#marion go round

[sunnyy-bunny]

offers you a small astral to carry around for emotional support

Thank you!

I love him very dearly :3

[afarcryfrommymain]

Far cry OC tournament Round 1b: Marion Scott Mitchell v Little Shit

Info and voting under the cut!

Marion Scott Mitchell (@simply-jason)

About: Marion (he/him) is a rookie deputy with the Hope County Sheriff's Department. He has a lot of prior experience with hunting, tracking, operating ATVs, and using crossbows due to growing up in the woodlands with his father. Likewise, he joined the force when he turned 19, and has only gotten just 2 years of experience under his belt before being sent in on the mission ever(tm).

Anything else we should know?: Here's some fun facts! • His voice claim is Orville Peck 😌 • He has a naturally strong paternal instinct. • He's a firm believer in "y'all means all", and has no qualms throwing hands with Hurk Sr. • He's known for line dancing! He used to line dance every Thursday at the 8-bit before it shut down. He *will* throw it down on the floor if the people at the Spread Eagle get a good song going.

Little Shit (@kbysh-kds)

About: They're a pirate employed by Vaas. Nobody really knows where they come from or who they really are. Little Shit doesn't talk, not because they're mute, simply because they don't want to. Instead they use a very simplistic version of sign language. The only person they actually talk to is a fellow pirate by the name of Dante ( an oc from @broken-balance-baby ). Little Shit has a special relationship with fire, getting enjoyment out of setting villages ablaze. They're most likely also immune to it...All in all, Little Shit is someone who enjoys the attrocities they have to commit.

[mewpangxin]

hi there! i heard it was your birthday so i wanted to say happy birthday!! i love your writing so much/gen i always look up to people with amazing writing!!

Aww ty ‎໒꒰ྀི∩˃ ᵕ ˂∩꒱ྀི১✨ you're very sweet.

[yanderestarangel]

⋆ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍!𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 ⋆

A/N: He's back bitches, DADDY MIGUEL O'HARA.

SYNOPSIS: Miguel is a 45-year-old man who works in a local library, also giving tutoring classes in literature to the local village community, you decide to go visit him after being on vacation, awakening a side of himself that Miguel didn't know.

TW: Yandere themes, age gap, afab anatomy, betrayal, dark themes, threats, manipulation, smut, au.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA -He leads a peaceful life, always opening the library at 9 am and closing at 9 pm, sometimes staying overtime to look at the landscape outside the large windows, to try to forget his failed marriage with his wife.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who has the same patterns every day, namely: taking both children to school by car, buying the same fruits to eat throughout the day - a few dates, an apple and a bottle of coffee aluminum portable, hot and sugar-free in the dark green side pouch he carries everything he needs for that day -

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - What you see in a boring life, everything was the same, he worked out, went for walks on the weekends, watched the same period films after 11pm, in the same leather armchair that got hot in the uncomfortable summer heat, drinking the same beer while the black and white images of the Hollywood film passed through the lens of his glasses, while he smelled the cold food made by his wife, who as always, had left the children with him and gone out.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who woke up late that day due to the hangover from the several beers he had on Sunday, rushing to drop his children off at school and avoid an argument with his wife early in the morning. He calmly went to the library, after all, there was no one there at that end of the world. But he was wrong. He soon saw you, sitting on the steps of the cold concrete stairs while waiting for someone to open the library, he had never seen you in the community, so it was a surprise for him to see someone so beautiful and different from the routine faces in the village. Miguel got out of the car, adjusting his round glasses, giving you a polite "good morning", his strong accent mixed with the smell of coffee coming from his lips, he opened the library while looking you up and down, he would casually ask you your name and what you do there. You spoke your reasons politely, while explaining that you were on vacation and decided to visit the tourist attractions of that village, such as the lighthouse and rough sea, as well as the large library, which, in addition to needing some literature classes, you two were taking Miguel O'Hara nods and gives a practically invisible sideways shy smile.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who gets excited like a young man when he sees you interested in literature, Miguel would make a point of giving you some books as a gift, explaining about each one, especially if you like gothic literature, such as: Bram Stocker, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stocker - or horror stories, he automatically falls in love if you, speaking excerpts from his favorite stories while pouring you some coffee, sitting in front of him while the two of you did a literary duo circle, the voices echoing through the ancient wood.

"-With a long scrutinizing look at the shadow, which frightens me, which haunts me, And I dream of what no mortal has ever dreamed of, But the vast and silent silence, silent remains; the quiet stillness." -O'Hara reads with a strong, hoarse accent, his voice was raw, reverberating his passion for each verse and word he spoke, holding the book in his thick fingers, now, with the abandonment of the wedding ring he wore, even though he was still married, you didn't need to know that detail.

"-Only you, unique and beloved word, Lenora, you, like a scarce sigh, leave my sad mouth; And the echo, which heard you, whispered to you in space; It was just that, nothing more." -You completed, reading your part in the tale of "The Crow" while feeling the older man's gauze on your body, while Salvatore's hands massaged your bare shoulder, lightly adjusting the clothes you wore, a long and possessive touch.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who offers you a ride home, turning on the radio while asking you everything about yourself, if you were dating, if you had traveled with someone, he expected you to be totally alone, totally for him. Miguel drops you off at home while he says a quick goodbye, but he actually just hides the car in the middle of some trees, looking out your windows, writing down your nighttime habits in a diary - he got home later that night, his wife noticed the delay, but he just made up an excuse, mostly lying that he had lost the ring in a library cleaning, which was a lie, he got rid of the ring in the sea, near the local town port -

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who studied everything about you on the days you two were alone in the library, becomes his refuge. Don't get him wrong, O'Hara loves his children, but he hates coming home and seeing that his marriage is a failure, and that the woman he was once so in love with, young days that passed through his life in long ago, Now she's just a strange and cold woman, but you? You are his treasure, always happy, smiling sweetly, asking if he is okay, or if he has eaten that day, if he needs help with something in his work as a librarian, you are so angelic, so beautiful, so his. You're totally his, aren't you?

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who lies to you about his private life, saying that his wife and he are divorced and he just lets her live close to the children, he lies so naturally that even he himself believes in the madness of his mind.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA- Who finds an excuse to leave you up late with him in the library, telling you about some more books, and giving you a letter, letters that were always sealed in luxurious black paper like an envelope, with a red coat of arms with an 'M' for Miguel, big in the center, he always asked you to open it at home, they were poems and poetry written by him, about you, but each time, with each letter given to you, they became darker, more intense, more... Intimate.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Which makes you sit on his muscular legs that night in the peace of the library, while his big, calloused hands lightly run over your thighs, while he praises you. "-Your skin is soft like the finest and purest silk, your lips are full and shiny with life, your smile is like the epitome of beauty, I look at you and see an angel, not even the richest kings who had harems with several women And men, none of them come close to your beauty, mi angelito, did you know that? Your heart is so pure and beautiful, your soul is practically eradicated from your carnal being." -Miguel spoke hoarsely, as he forced you to look at him, his eyes shone, not only with enlightenment but with love, a sick love for you.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA -He fingers you slowly and lightly, giving you kisses on the head, feeling the smell and softness of your hair, his fingers enter and curve slightly, he was an expert in that, he wanted to make you come, to make you see the stars in the sky pleasure he could give you. Miguel praises you even more when he sees you moaning so beautifully, writhing in his lap, while he whispers in your ear how well you do it, being such a good girl/boy for him, giving yourself to him like that, like you It's beautiful when your pussy tightens around his fingers, how perfect you are when you let your sweet saliva run down your lips like that, while he gives you all the pleasure, making you squirm on his arm full of veins and scars from the time he had, dirtying the papers and reports he signed, but he doesn't fight with you, no my sweet girl/boy, you are his, Miguel just applies a chaste kiss to your temple, salty with the sweat of sexual effort and the heat of lust from your body, while he just said everything was going to be okay.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who was worried when you didn't show up after a few days, so he left work early, seeing you at a local fair. He tried to talk to you, but you were disappointed in him, you had found out he was married, and you felt dirty for giving yourself to him. Miguel O'Hara froze immediately, but he soon recovered his posture, telling you in a serious and cold air that she didn't mean anything to him and you did, but you didn't want to listen, just saying how rubbish he was as a human being and leaving the room. running, hiding in the crowd, he didn't go after you, just walking away with a neutral and serious air, thinking about the next step he would take, and he knew exactly what it would be. He spent every day at your house, placing flowers, chocolates, teddy bears, gifts and books on your doorstep, even if you threw them in the trash, he bought more and more, even more expensive and extravagant. Miguel didn't leave you alone, going to your house every day, even trying to knock on the window, but you didn't pay attention to him, but he didn't care, he wasn't going to give up, he stopped the car every day after his shift from work to look at you,or look at the lighting in your house, where you were, what you were doing, and who you were with.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - That on your last day in the village, he left you a letter, in a red envelope, you didn't want to read it, but your curiosity got the better of you, with you finally reading the content of the man's letter.

My dear, (Y/N) This may sound strange, but I like it when you hide like a scared little bunny, running away from me like that, as if I were a predator? so I am offended my dear. Do you know how far I'm willing to go for you? Do you know exactly what things I can do to try? Do you know the dark thoughts I can carry out with your friends or family? If you gave in. We would be even more than perfect together, we were born to be each other's my love. Just as the sun rises day after day, just as the moon appears in the dead of night. Just as the stars shine in the black sky of the dark and cold night, void of voice. Just as birds spend their lungs in a melodious song, unable to be stopped by foolish men. Just like every natural phenomenon and incapable of being stopped, I will make you mine. just mine. You can try to scream, try to escape or even ignore me, like a mirror covered with a fine linen fabric, I'm still there, watching you, attentive to your smallest details, your flaws, your sins, your darkest, hidden fears. inside your mind, the intimate and core of your most secret suffering... I know everything, I know you more than you know yourself. We are destined to be one, drawn by a happy and unhappy destiny, a piece of the gods perhaps, who are we to question love? In fact, I'll ask you one more time, you love me, right? Just try to say you don't love me... Then I will destroy you... I k-

You didn't even finish reading the letter, hearing heavy footsteps coming from the back door, while you saw a tall figure standing in the dark shadow of the hallway, something dripping on the floor while those familiar and maddened brown eyes stared at you, deep in your soul, Miguel O'Hara.

"-And you know, (Y/N)... you shouldn't leave the door open."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[well-gosh-diddly-darnit-minyard]

forever going to believe in a version of the secret history where everything is fine in the end. a version where Bunny doesn’t find out about the murder, or maybe the murder never happens. maybe they all spend winter break at Francis’s house, and they eat grossly extravagant meals and drink too much wine and maybe Richard lets slip something about his real home and they all smother him with love like real friends do. maybe Bunny really does just die in a tragic hiking accident, or maybe he never dies at all. maybe Camilla says something so profound to Richard over a cup of wine sipped from teacups that he suddenly sees her as a person, as someone to cherish and not something to covet. maybe Henry and Richard become closer, maybe Charles and Camilla have a healthy sibling relationship. maybe Richard proposes, maybe Camilla says yes. and maybe, just maybe, when they’ve all graduated, they live happily. Bunny has married Marion and doesn’t contact the group anymore, except to send them Christmas cards full of photos of his children: all blond and round faced like he is, all cherub-faced angels like he never was. Francis doesn’t marry, but stays in his aunt’s house in the country; Richard and Camilla marry but never have children, they stay together and spend their days in Francis’s library and spend so much time with him they practically move in with him; Charles goes his own way, maybe he gets over his addiction and finds a sweet woman down south who promises that she’ll love him forever and no matter what; and Henry, he teaches at Hampden, in the same room Julian taught in before he passed, and he lets anyone study Greek if they want to because he longs more than anything to share the love of his life with anyone who will listen. little does he know that there have always been people listening, and a few in particular who still do.

[aprilthearcher]

lost the game of chance

[remus lupin x fem!reader] [platonic james potter x fem!reader] based on ‘How Did It End?’ and ‘So Long, London’ by Taylor Swift. warnings: angst, angst, not sure if it’s a happy ending, but perhaps an ambiguous one. curse words, smoking, mentions of the war. my poor knowledge of tarot. English is not my first language, and I tried to do sth fun with my writing style on this one. No instance of (Y/N).

The hushed whispers, gasps, and fingers that would follow me everywhere were not, in fact, any more subtle than screaming the question directly at my face. For all the harm it meant, I guess I still couldn’t blame them. They knew no better than to entertain themselves with meaningless gossip about people they barely knew. It was either amusement from the messy breakup of the month or finally facing the fact that a war was brewing. Sally and Annie’s fallout had been the most discussed topic just a fortnight ago. 

The twins' straightforwardness, although somewhat appreciated, had come as a surprise. I had heard the question being asked behind my back many times this week, in whispers and brimmed to the top with fake empathy. 

“We wanted to say we’re very sorry about what happened between you and…” I didn’t know if she hadn’t finished the sentence out of apprehension or some sort of ‘respect’ thing. 

“Remus” I said. Both of the twins visibly relaxed after I spoke his name out loud without bursting in tears. “You can say his name, I won’t crumble.” Liar.

“Yes, terribly sorry we are. We wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I am, thank you.”

I was leaving when I heard it. 

“How did it end?”

And there it was. Turning around, the sight that greeted me would’ve made me laugh under different circumstances. Marion, presumably the one who couldn’t contain herself and asked the question, had both of her hands covering her mouth and her eyes had never looked bigger. Her sister, Nora, had her eyes shut closed, face scrunched up in embarrassment while the tip of her ears turned red. 

Why don’t you ask him? Perhaps then I’ll know, too. Why don’t you go and find out for me? Why don’t you? Would you two be a dear and ask him why he called it all off? Because I can’t pretend like I understand how I got here, pretending to be composed as if I hadn’t been crying all weekend. 

“We won’t tell anyone.” (Except all of our friends, who will tell their friends, and they tell theirs…).

“I guess… I guess we didn’t work out anymore.”

Short and sweet. I could tell the twins were disappointed. Sally had definitely been more indulgent. 

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

“She said that? She said we didn’t work out?”

“Why are you so surprised, mate? You were the one to tell her that.” James’ tone was colder than the snow covering the courtyard. The boys were killing time in the Gryffindor Common Room, huddled in the burgundy sofas and armchairs, protected from the bitter November weather. Both of his best friends were hurt and the one moaning and complaining was the one to blame. 

“Well, yes, but…”

“But? You know, Remus, we wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t screwed it all up.”

Peter, concentrating on shuffling a deck of cards wandless, whistled softly. He might have seemed uninterested, but you could bet he had been listening to the entire interaction. “Unfortunately for you, James has a point.” 

“Sirius, you’re awfully quiet.” Remus mumbled while biting the skin around his nails. 

Sirius Black was, perhaps for the first time in his life, lost at words. He had been strolling round the room wondering when Remus had gone completely mental. Sirius knew his friend had always been somewhat loony – if you catch his drift – but this was on another level.

“I’m restraining myself from speaking because if not I’ll probably punch you in the face.” Honest as you could get from the eldest Black son.

“What has speaking got to do with you punching me in the face?” 

“You want to find out, Remmy?” Asked Sirius, staring at Remus from the window, where he had decided to finally sit down and unroll a cigarette. 

Peter’s squeaky laugh was cut short by a golden cushion landing on his nose.

“That shit will kill you,” Remus protested, chin lifted up to point at the cigarette on Sirius’ lips.

“Oh, cry me a fucking river, Remus.”

Remus felt like crying a river but not over Sirius’ disgusting habit.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Every corner of the castle was haunted, either by the memories created together or by her phantom-like figure wandering the halls aimlessly; an arrow being constantly thrown around by the wind, changing directions when she saw even a glimpse of him. 

The library was a bittersweet haven. Continually looking over her shoulder, methodically wiping away a tear from time to time; still, as much as it reminded her of Remus, it had been one of her favourite places before even meeting him. The fear of seeing him there couldn’t – wouldn’t – keep her frozen in her dorm forever. 

The smell of books, the sound of quills scribbling against pieces of parchments, and even the occasional screeches of the librarian were unparalleled comforting for her. 

Distracted by the illustrations on the spine of a large tome, she didn’t notice the person standing behind her.

“I read the book you lent me last month.”

A near heart attack later and with a hand on her chest, she turned around. The bulky teenager smiled sheepishly, fixing his glasses with one hand while the other held out the book. He was wearing the red and gold gloves she had knitted for him as a gift. A mini embroidered lion had been enchanted to run across the horizontal colourful lines. She smiled at the sight of it. James Potter was the greatest friend she had ever had. 

“Did you like it?”

“Loved it.”

Silently, he circled his arms around her, the book still in his hands was now a delicate weight on her back. She returned the hug immediately, her arms enclosing tightly around his frame. The lingering smell of chocolate brought tears to her eyes. 

“Don’t tell anyone but I think Snape is our own version of Mr Hyde.” James spoke softly on the shell of her ear. The chuckle she let out made James’ heart soared. She was the greatest friend he would always cheer up. 

“Thank you.”

“For making fun of Snape? You’d have to thank me daily, sweetheart.”

“I would say hourly.” A cheeky grin crept up on her face. 

“Now you’re catching on.” His hands abandoned their place at her back to gently grab her face. “Want to go to Hogsmeade and grab a butterbeer? It’s still early.”

She could never say no to him because James’ gentle smile reassured her, time and time again, that it would be alright.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

The war had left her short of friends and allies; short of hopes and dreams. 

With a heavy heart, she conjured a small bouquet of white flowers to lay on James and Lily’s grave. The soft autumn breeze did nothing to dry her tears. She would come to see them as often as she could, and as often as her grief would allow her. The worst part of it all was that she had lost Harry, as well.

She fought Dumbledore tooth and nail to at least be allowed to be part of his life. If raising him was too much, then she could surely visit him once or twice a month. He refused – though he kept quiet at the sight of the albatross he saw circling the house in Privet Drive the night  Lily and James died –. He knew she’d find some loophole in his restrictions. Nobody had said anything about a bird common to be seen on the ocean flying across Little Whinging. 

October 31st was a hazy memory, getting blurrier by the years. She had been shuffling her tarot cards – a branch of magic she’d wanted to take up since she was a little girl – when the entire deck burst from her hands. Suspended in the air, the only visible cards were the Tower, the Ten of Swords, and the Three of Swords. She didn’t need anyone to tell her what had happened.

A white-feathered bird was out of the window a few minutes later and in its journey, the albatross found a giant man flying a motorcycle with a bundle in his arms. 

The sound of the soft leaves being stepped on took her out of her memories. She turned around with a tight grip on her wand.

“Hey.”

Remus Lupin had changed over the years. More scars littered his face, the bags below his hazel eyes were more prominent, and he had done something to his hair. He was holding a bouquet of lilies in his right hand, the other one was hidden inside the pocket of his trousers. A tiny, apprehensive, yet handsome smile had formed in his lips.

She would always be under whatever spell that smile incited in her.

“Hi.”

For Remus, she was still stunning. His heart still leaps at the sight of her eyes.

[drconstellation]

Once and Future Royalty

Just, stay with me on this one. I know its going to look crazy at the start, but trust me, I know where I'm going.

It all started with the 537AD scene in Wessex in the opening montage of "Hard Times," S1E3. Yeah, the one where Aziraphale is supposed to be a knight of the Round Table and Crowley is role-playing the Black Knight, and they are both so super-squeaky shiny clean - not a speck of dirt or mud on them. wtf! It looks out of place, unrealistic, and was bugging the crap out of me, like a stone in your shoe. It just didn't fit. I mean, why put a myth, a legend, into that sequence? Oh, OK, yeah, the preceding stories from the Bible, like the Garden of Eden and the Flood, aren't "myths" as well, you say? Hmm. In the context of the Good Omens AU, being a biblical based story, they belong there far more than the legend of King Arthur.

King Arthur, who supposedly united Britain under his rule during the late 5th century and early 6th century, was shown to have the divine right to rule by wielding the mighty sword Excalibur. Some stories tell of Arthur pulling Excalibur from a stone. Some tell of him receiving Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake. Either way, it was bestowed upon him by divine grace. Despite his triumph in battle, he left no heirs, as his queen, the fair Guinevere, was barren. She had a long-running love affair with the greatest knight of the court, Sir Lancelot, but despite this being an open secret in court Arthur would not put her aside. The knights of the Round Table in the court of Camelot were near-paragons of Christian virtue, and there are many tales of their search for the Holy Grail, the cup from the Last Supper of Jesus Christ.

In the end, mortally wounded in battle, Arthur was taken away for healing, and never seen again. It was said he would return when Britain was at it most direst hour to save the day once more. A "messianic" return.

The Once and Future King.

Now, I'm no Arthurian novice; I drank up all of T. H. White as a teenager, read the Dark is Rising multiple times, Marion Zimmer Bradley's interpretation and what ever else I could lay my hands on for a good couple of decades. And there is LOTS of King Arthur stuff around. You are not left wanting for anything new to read or consume. And I'll bet there are a fair few of you also out there who know a quite bit about the legend as well. Oh, and I can't tell you how many times I have watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I still walk around quoting it day-to-day, like the good little Gen-Xer I am, having grown up on that stuff. So I really should have listened to my intuition when bits of Monty Python kept popping up in my brain in response to other parts of GO I was thinking about. (Staaay, I said, stay with me here....)

I kept chewing away furiously on the Wessex problem, growling in feral frustration at it, but also kept reading and sorting out some other ideas and metas at the same time. Eventually I found the key in a tiny little post, about a small detail in the 1941 Blitz episode S2E4, of all places. I wanted to slap myself with how much was staring me in the face so obviously once the door opened. And the damn beauty of it is, that I already written about some it, out of context, without knowing the why.

OK. Where to start this journey...hmmm, back to Monty Python, because, guess what - the Wessex scene is actually riffing off one the more famous skits out the the Holy Grail. The scene is a masterpiece of political satire, from start to finish, but the relevant part here is this sequence:

In case you missed the salient points: Arthur claims he is king by divine providence, because he was given Excalibur by the Lady of the Lake. Dennis the peasant protests this waterlogged method of determination, mentioning ponds, watery tarts and a moistened... well, I hope you get the idea about where this is going.

Meanwhile, in 537AD, Wessex, as the mist swirls around them:

"It is a bit damp," complains a shiny silver Aziraphale.

Yes, Excalibur would be a bit damp after it emerged from the Lake. (vidavalor! Get your mind out of the gutter! I'm trying to have a serious discussion here! Please! And I wasn't even going to go anywhere near what the sword in the stone is really meant to be referring to...it's not even relevant to the discussion at hand, I swear! Well, there is going to be sexual relations mentioned but - oh, never mind...)

Right. Where were we. Lets leave those super-clean elite pretendy knights to swim off through the swirling mist back to their dry homes to write and file reports to head office, along with Patsy and the hired Igors, and Dennis can keep playing in his lovely muddy filth after he finishes protesting being repressed by the divinely-deluded Arthur. I've got a bit more to say about what Aziraphale and Crowley might represent here later but you need some more context first, so lets move on. I just needed to show you the first bit so you can see the Arthurian theme stretches across both S1 and S2, and will likely appear in S3 as well. More about that towards the end.

Ah, before I forget...another ref from the Holy Grail we need to cover:

This GIF, unfortunately, doesn't have the full exchange between the peasants, which is this:

P1: "Who's that then?" P2: "I don't know. Must be a king." P1: "How can you tell?" P2: "Because he doesn't have any shit on him."

Ah. Er. OH!

Have you made the connection?

Who have I been emphasizing as being unusually clean in their Arthurian setting? That's right, Aziraphale and Crowley.

What's this implying? That they are royalty. Celestial royalty. Maybe not kings, but how about princes? You know how we've been discussing whether Crowley was a once at least an Archangel, and there is even a hint that he was a fallen prince of Heaven given during the replay of Gabriel's trial? (Not the prince, but a prince - a seraphim) And that Aziraphale may have once been Raphael, and may be again in the future? Once and future royalty. To me it adds weight to the past discussion, and helps to explain the assumed authority expressed in these two scenes here: On the left, Aziraphale takes control inside the book shop as the angels and demons argue who is going to punish Gabriel and Beelzebub (finally found it after several months!) and on the right, Crowley is shouting at the assembling demons in the street that they are "out of order."

Onward, Patsy. (I hope you're still with me.)

1941, the Blitz part 2, minisode.

We've found Excalibur! On to Camelot!

[Edit note: I've added a few GIFs and screen shots into the sequence of parallels above because I was thinking over a few things since I posted and felt this actually sat better. To try and explain, as they don't exactly match as I would like, in the Holy Grail movie, King Arthur and the knights he has gathered rock up at the foot of Camelot and gaze up in awe at it. "Camelot!" Arthur declares to the party. "Camelot!" Galahad echoes in excitement. And a third "Camelot!" comes from Lancelot. What do we get in GO? Aziraphale leaps out of the Bentley (Crowley's black horse) and declares "The theater! Sophocles! Shakespeare!" I swear, if you put the two side by side, they would match. It's not just a reminder of how much time Aziraphale has seen pass by, or that we are seeing a tragedy play out. But damn it, I could so just see Aziraphale attending a Sophocles performance in Athens back in the day...]

Camelot was King Arthur's castle and home of his court. In S2 of GO the Windmill Theater is established as our court of Camelot where our 1941 Blitz-era Arthurian drama is to play out, involving Furfur and the zombies.

Yes, poor old Furfur. Two's company, three's a crowd, as they say. Now we know we're in Camelot, we need to be reminded of the central tragedy of the Arthurian story, that ultimately led to the golden kingdom's fall. Lady Guinevere, Arthur's queen, famously loved Sir Lancelot, and the two were passionate lovers. It was essentially a love-triangle at the top, with Arthur being jilted, but he wouldn't/couldn't discard his queen. Where do we see this playing out in 1941?

Furfur, pleased with himself for catching an angel and a demon in the act of consorting together (with the help of the zombies,) barges into the backstage dressing room, and confronts the lovers with their crime. But who is playing who in the Arthurian love triangle? I would say Furfur is clearly caught in the role of Arthur here. Consider the following exchange:

FURFUR: Hmm, well, well, well… What have we here? AZIRAPHALE: Sorry, have we met? FURFUR: Oh, no, you never had the pleasure, but… we have, haven't we? CROWLEY: Have we? FURFUR: What do you mean "have we?" You know we have. We were in the same legion. Just before the Fall. Doing dubious battle on the plains of Heaven. Remember? CROWLEY: I remember going into battle, I don't remember being there with you. Sorry. FURFUR: I was right next to you. We did loads together. You use to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat. Anyway, whether you do or whether you don't, it doesn't matter. I'm here to inform you, as a representative of the Higher Powers of Hell, that you, Crowley, are in breach of the Infernal Code. Consulting and collaborating with an angel, Fell the Marvelous, aka… [opens book] Azirapalala. Azirapapap. Aziphapalala. AZIRAPHALE: [annoyed] Aziraphale

Furfur claims a past intimate relationship with Crowley, which Crowley spurns offhandedly. Crowley is playing Guinevere here, jilting Furfur/Arthur, which leaves the demon-smiting Aziraphale standing in for the handsome hero Lancelot (with his French connections, no less), and doesn't he make us weak at the knees when he drops his voice an octave in dominating disgust. (Is it suddenly getting hot in here...? Phew!)

Interestingly, looking back in S1 at 537AD Wessex, though, I would say that Crowley was Lancelot as the Black Knight, a role that Lancelot sometimes played in the legends, and Aziraphale would then be the fair maiden Guinevere. It certainly plays into Crowley's long term role of playing the knight who comes to the rescue of Aziraphale's princess in distress. Excalibur was no where in sight, perhaps still beneath the waters of the lake. Nor Arthur. Perhaps it was still too early in the story then...

I had originally suggested in my very first post that Furfur was given a stag as his demon avatar because he was wearing horns for being cuckolded by Crowley. But I wasn't quite thinking about it in context with the Arthurian legend! The stag is also often associated with royalty, plus while wandering around the medieval bestiary website that someone linked to, it interestingly notes that the enemy of the snake is the stag and the stork (Shax's avatar.) Ah ha!

So how can we extrapolate this knowledge into a possible appearance of the Arthurian theme in S3?

Will we see the love triangle of Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot come back into play and cause more chaos? I'm wondering if it might have something to do with the Fall.

Or will our lovers bring down a divinely-appointed ruler via their committed behind-the-back defiance of expected propriety?

Will Excalibur appear from beneath the waters, perhaps in another form, to declare a new king?

Could it even be a combination Jesus/Arthur, King of the World, returned? And they turn out to be a very naughty boy, disappearing into the night clubs of Times Square, New York, and that's how they lose him? (Social media viral sensation, anyone?)

I wouldn't be half-surprised if Greasy Johnson's name turns out to be Arthur, actually.

And no, I haven't forgotten that Adam's dad was named Arthur as well.

Bring on S3!

**Bonus**

If you've made it this far and you're thinking:

Let me leave you with this last connection.

In the back stage change room, remember Furfur delivers these lines:

FURFUR: What do you mean "have we?" You know we have. We were in the same legion. Just before the Fall. Doing dubious battle on the plains of Heaven. Remember?

On the first level, he is referring the Great War in the Good Omens AU.

On the second level, Furfur is paraphrasing Milton's Paradise Lost.

On a third level, I can (and will in a future meta) connect this back to the training initiative paintball fight at Tadfield Manor in S1.

And even deeper on a fourth level, if you do know the Holy Grail movie well, you'll remember there is an odd little subplot in it, that infers that the whole King Arthur and his knights thing is merely a full-on violent cosplay that is murderously rampaging across the countryside in the present day with the police in hot pursuit. It's a strange juxtaposition between reality and dream, and you aren't quite sure what it is real or not. The ending is bizarrely and abruptly surreal as the two story lines collide in the heat of battle, as the police turn up and arrest the combatants. A bit like this:

[billboard-hotties-tourney]

Okay, folks, the mini-tourney is inching closer to the finals, so I'm going to give a list of the competitors in the Miss Billboard Tourney in order to give everyone a chance to submit more propaganda. The nominees are:

Lale Andersen

Marian Anderson

Signe Toly Anderson

Julie Andrews

LaVerne Andrews

Maxene Andrews

Patty Andrews

Ann-Margret

Joan Armatrading

Dorothy Ashby

Joan Baez

Pearl Bailey

Belle Baker

Josephine Baker

LaVern Baker

Florence Ballard

Brigitte Bardot

Eileen Barton

Fontella Bass

Shirley Bassey

Maggie Bell

Lola Beltran

Ivy Benson

Gladys Bentley

Jane Birkin

Cilla Black

Ronee Blakley

Teresa Brewer

Anne Briggs

Ruth Brown

Joyce Bryant

Vashti Bunyan

Kate Bush

Montserrat Caballe

Maria Callas

Blanche Calloway

Wendy Carlos

Cathy Carr

Raffaella Carra

Diahann Carroll

Karen Carpenter

June Carter Cash

Charo

Cher

Meg Christian

Gigliola Cinquetti

Petula Clark

Merry Clayton

Patsy Cline

Rosemary Clooney

Natalie Cole

Judy Collins

Alice Coltrane

Betty Comden

Barbara Cook

Rita Coolidge

Gal Costa

Ida Cox

Karen Dalton

Marie-Louise Damien

Betty Davis

Jinx Dawson

Doris Day

Blossom Dearie

Kiki Dee

Lucienne Delyle

Sandy Denny

Jackie DeShannon

Gwen Dickey

Marlene Dietrich

Marie-France Dufour

Julie Driscoll

Yvonne Elliman

Cass Elliot

Maureen Evans

Agnetha Faeltskog

Marianne Faithfull

Mimi Farina

Max Feldman

Gracie Fields

Ella Fitzgerald

Roberta Flack

Lita Ford

Connie Francis

Aretha Franklin

France Gall

Judy Garland

Crystal Gayle

Gloria Gaynor

Bobbie Gentry

Astrud Gilberto

Donna Jean Godchaux

Lesley Gore

Eydie Gorme

Margo Guryan

Sheila Guyse

Nina Hagen

Francoise Hardy

Emmylou Harris

Debbie Harry

Annie Haslam

Billie Holiday

Mary Hopkin

Lena Horne

Helen Humes

Betty Hutton

Janis Ian

Mahalia Jackson

Wanda Jackson

Etta James

Joan Jett

Bessie Jones

Etta Jones

Gloria Jones

Grace Jones

Shirley Jones

Tamiko Jones

Janis Joplin

Barbara Keith

Carole King

Eartha Kitt

Chaka Khan

Hildegard Knef

Gladys Knight

Sonja Kristina

Patti Labelle

Cleo Laine

Nicolette Larson

Daliah Lavi

Vicky Leandros

Peggy Lee

Rita Lee

Alis Lesley

Barbara Lewis

Abbey Lincoln

Melba Liston

Julie London

Darlene Love

Lulu

Anni-Frid Lyngstad

Barbara Lynn

Loretta Lynn

Vera Lynn

Siw Malmkvist

Lata Mangeshkar

Linda McCartney

Kate McGarrigle

Christie McVie

Bette Midler

Jean Millington

June Millington

Liza Minnelli

Carmen Miranda

Joni Mitchell

Liz Mitchell

Marion Montgomery

Lee Morse

Nana Mouskouri

Anne Murray

Wenche Myhre

Holly Near

Olivia Newton-John

Stevie Nicks

Nico

Laura Nyro

Virginia O’Brien

Odetta

Yoko Ono

Shirley Owens

Patti Page

Dolly Parton

Freda Payne

Michelle Phillips

Edith Piaf

Ruth Pointer

Leontyne Price

Suzi Quatro

Gertrude Rainey

Bonnie Raitt

Carline Ray

Helen Reddy

Della Reese

Martha Reeves

June Richmond

Jeannie C. Riley

Minnie Riperton

Jean Ritchie

Chita Rivera

Clara Rockmore

Linda Ronstadt

Marianne Rosenberg

Diana Ross

Anna Russell

Melanie Safka

Buffy Sainte-Marie

Samantha Sang

Pattie Santos

Hazel Scott

Doreen Shaffer

Jackie Shane

Marlena Shaw

Sandie Shaw

Dinah Shore

Judee Sill

Carly Simon

Nina Simone

Nancy Sinatra

Siouxsie Sioux

Grace Slick

Bessie Smith

Mamie Smith

Patti Smith

Ethel Smyth

Mercedes Sosa

Ronnie Spector

Dusty Springfield

Mavis Staples

Candi Staton

Barbra Streisand

Poly Styrene

Maxine Sullivan

Donna Summer

Pat Suzuki

Norma Tanega

Tammi Terrell

Sister Rosetta Tharpe

Big Mama Thornton

Mary Travers

Moe Tucker

Tina Turner

Twiggy

Bonnie Tyler

Sylvia Tyson

Sarah Vaughan

Sylvie Vartan

Mariska Veres

Akiko Wada

Claire Waldoff

Jennifer Warnes

Dee Dee Warwick

Dionne Warwick

Dinah Washington

Ethel Waters

Elisabeth Welch

Kitty Wells

Mary Wells

Juliane Werding

Tina Weymouth

Cris Williamson

Ann Wilson

Mary Wilson

Nancy Wilson

Anna Mae Winburn

Syreeta Wright

Tammy Wynette

Nan Wynn

Those in italics have five or more pieces of usable visual, written, or audio propaganda already. If you have any visuals like photos or videos, or if you have something to say in words, submit it to this blog before round one begins on June 25th!

If you don't see a name you submitted here, it's because most or all of their career was as a child/they were too young for the cutoff, their career was almost entirely after 1979, or music was something they only dabbled in and are hardly known for. There are quite a few ladies on the list whose primary career wasn't "recording artist" or "live musician," but released several albums or were in musical theater, so they've been accepted.

[novacorpsrecruit]

The Missing Poster

This image is making rounds on Twitter and having people arguing Eddie’s age again so I want to throw my head canon out

This is ignoring flight of Icarus because I haven’t read it.

T | wc 1,903 | tw: death/murder, abuse

Wayne had prayed he’d never have to make another missing poster again.

In 1984, Eddie went off on a bender. It was a series of unfortunate phone calls that fell like dominoes.

First, the school.

His grades were low. He’s failed too many classes. He wasn’t going to graduate.

Then, Eddie’s dad, Ricky.

He was in the Marion County jail. Waiting to be processed. He had two charges: manslaughter and second-degree murder. He had no bond. He was to be kept at Marion County until his court proceedings take place.

Then, the coroner’s office.

Ricky failed to mention to Wayne who was dead. Who he killed. If Wayne knew Ricky had strangled Elizabeth, he would’ve told Eddie not to answer anymore phone calls.

But the third call came, Eddie already on his breaking point. He picked it up, and was met with the terrible news, given to him by someone so mechanical with their words. As if they were telling him that there was a coupon for milk in the grocery’s ads.

His mom was dead.

The coroner’s office needed to know which funeral home to send the body to. Not her body. The body.

Eddie dropped the phone, taking off outside. Wayne was quick on his heels for someone who complained about how his knee ached.

“Eddie! Eddie!” Wayne called, following after him. “Eddie, boy! C’mon home.” Wayne reached out, gently touching Eddie’s arm to lead him back to the house. Eddie snatched his arm away, as if Wayne’s touch was hot like fire, turning around tears streaming down his face.

“She was supposed to be okay!” Eddie shouted. “She wasn’t supposed to be around him! She was supposed to get clean! She promised! She promised!”

“Eds —“ Wayne started, a soft sigh and he reached back out. Eddie took a step back, shaking his head.

“No — no, I —“ he shook his head again, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck this. I gotta — I gotta go.”

“Go where?” Wayne asked, taking a step towards Eddie like a baby deer. Eddie shook his head, taking two steps back.

“I gotta get out of here —“

Gravel crunching under tires pulled both their attentions back to the trailer house. Wayne recognized the Chevy Blazer immediately. Chief Hopper has made stops to the Munson home a few times since Eddie moved in with Wayne in ‘79. Eddie always seemed to find trouble. Or trouble always seems to find the Munson’s.

“Eds, we should —“ Wayne turned to look back at Eddie, already taken off into the woods. Wayne sighed and approached Chief Hopper.

“Wayne,” Hopper said, taking off his hat and holding it to his chest. He nodded at where Eddie once stood. “I’m guessing Marion County called.”

“My boy answered the phone,” Wayne supplied. “So I’m not sure what was said, but the way he was talking ‘bout his momma, I can assume the earlier call from his daddy was related.”

Hopper nodded, glancing towards the forest where Eddie disappeared. “You know where he took off to?”

“Nope,” Wayne said. “He’s got friends in town, and a few spots near the lake ‘nd the quarry.”

“He take off like this before?”

Wayne let out a half laugh. “A few times. Usually back in the middle of the night or by mornin’. Never gone for a full day.”

Hopper let out a hum. “He ain’t back by sunset tomorrow, give me a call.”

Wayne gave a nod, looking out towards the forest. “He’ll be back by mornin’.”

Hopper nodded. “Sorry about Elizabeth. She was a kind soul.”

“Just kept findin’ that trouble named Ricky,” Wayne sighed. “Thanks, Jim.”

Hopper started back towards his car, stopping in his place. “Hey, uh, I wouldn’t … be surprised if they called your boy to testify.”

Wayne wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean? He was here.”

“Character witness,” Hopper supplied. “He — I remember those bruises and cuts he had when we dropped him off on your porch a few years back. The prosecutor might call ‘im up to recount Ricky’s abuse.”

Wayne let out a deep sigh. He remembered that night all too well. Eddie had always been tall for his age, even at 13. But scrawny teen looked small with his arms crossed over his chest, more purple bruising on his body than his pale skin, standing behind Jim Hopper. It didn’t take much for Wayne to connect the dots, and it didn’t take much convincing when he called Ricky a week later to let Eddie stay with him in Hawkins permanently. He watched that buzz cut kid grow into his larger than life personality, leaving his hard edges back in Indianapolis with his father. But now, Ricky came crashing back into Eddie’s life, knocking the walls of security down.

“Thanks Jim,” Wayne said. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

Hopper gave one more nod before climbing into the Blazer and driving off. Wayne sighed, walking back to the house and sitting on the couch outside. He pulled out his cigarette pack from his shirt pocket and lit a cigarette between his lips.

Wayne wasn’t sure how long he waited outside for Eddie. Longer than he should’ve. He finally moved inside when the sun started to blush the sky. He crashed on the couch, hardly sleeping as he waited for the sound of the trailer creaking with Eddie’s heavy footsteps.

But it never came.

The day came and went, and Eddie was no where to be found.

Wayne tried his friends, calling down the list of the guys who played Eddie’s dragons game with him. No one had seen him since yesterday. He tried the Library and the Hideout. No luck. Wayne went through Eddie’s little black book of phone numbers. Hell, he even tried a few places in Indy. The more numbers he called, the more he grew wary.

What felt like hours later, he called Hopper.

He told him to come down to the station, bring a recent photo. So Wayne grabbed the one off the fridge — the one he took at the beginning of the school year. It was way too hot for Eddie to be wearing his long sleeve under the t-shirt, but arguing with Eddie on what to wear was like arguing with a wall. The sun was in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie barely wanted to take the photo in the first place. Wayne made him. Said they would send the photo to his momma. To remember senior year.

Fucking hell.

When he got to the station, he was directed to one of the administrative ladies. She took the photo and took information about Eddie. His height. His weight. His age.

Shit.

He was turning 18 next week.

The woman finished making the flyer, using the Xerox in the back to add Eddie’s photo to it. She handed him a stack of copies and the photo back.

“What now?” Wayne asked.

“We wait,” she said. “He’s officially a missing person. Officers know to keep a look out. We’ll let other stations know as well.”

Wayne nodded, taking a step back. Her words echoed in his head. We wait.

He took the flyers and hung them around town. Taking them to every business, every office, posting them on telephone poles. A few passbyers took it out of politeness, barely looking at Eddie’s photo as they walked by. At least, the woman at Melvard’s was kind, looking at him with sympathy and promising him he would turn up. Her own boy turned up last year, even after he was pronounced dead. Maybe she had enough hope to bring Eddie back safe as well.

But days past and nobody heard from Eddie. Wayne grew more and more worried, feeling like his all efforts of searching were going to waste. Wayne found it harder and harder to sleep at night, worried about his boy.

It wasn’t until he got that faithful call from Hopper.

“They found him.”

Wayne can’t recall the details or where they found him or what drugs was in his system. All Wayne could remember was Eddie lying in that hospital bed, paler than the sheets looking at Wayne like Wayne was Ricky.

Wayne sat in the chair next to Eddie, slowly and gently placing his hand on top of Eddie’s, running his thumb against his skin. “What a way to spend your birthday, huh?”

Eddie let out a wet laugh, relaxing against Wayne’s touch. “Sorry, Wayne, didn’t mean t’scare ya.”

“Don’t do it again,” Wayne said, leaning up to press a kiss against Eddie’s hair. “Please.”

Wayne doesn’t blame Eddie for this time.

It’s that Munson trouble that found him. He knew Eddie didn’t kill that girl. It wasn’t his nature. He’s not like Ricky.

Eddie isn’t like his father.

It’s been almost a week since he heard from Eddie. A few days since the teens were around the trailer park asking about him. Nobody has heard from Eddie. He knows the police are looking for him, placing him at that girl’s murder.

But it wasn’t Eddie.

Wayne had just hung up that missing poster this morning at the gym, where the City had called for a shelter. He went to the library and Xeroxed a couple of copies of the missing poster he kept folded up in his wallet. There wasn’t enough resources or time to make another. A quick change to the missing date, thanks to the type writer at the front desk. Wayne folded up the original, placing it back in his wallet. It served as a reminder of to keep his boy close. To make sure he felt loved.

And someone took a damn marker to it, vandalizing his boy to hell. Wayne pulled down the destroyed flyer, trashing it. He replaced it with the new one, feeling his heart ache as he looked at young Eddie, beginning of his first senior year.

Now, he didn’t know where he was.

“Mr. Munson?”

Wayne turned around to see a boy with curly hair, the same boy who stopped by the trailer park with the other teens, now sporting crutches. Another boy, about Eddie’s age stood behind him, with a red ring around his neck. He stood strong, almost like a soldier, holding something gently in his hand, as if he was afraid he would crush it.

The younger boy leaned forward, the older boy nearly shot out his free hand, grabbing the other to stabilize him. The younger boy lowered his voice. “We know where Eddie is.”

The older boy extended his bandaged hand, opening it to reveal Eddie’s guitar pick necklace.

And that’s all it took for Wayne to follow them to the old Hawkins lab. Wayne nearly jumped out of his truck as he followed the boys into the lab, down the hall and into a makeshift hospital room.

There laid Eddie, like he did not even two years before. His hair matted and dirty, his face and arms bandaged like he went through hell and back. He looked up at Wayne, his eyes watered. “Wayne —“

Wayne leaned down and buried a kiss into Eddie’s hair. “You’re safe, son,” Wayne whispered. “You’re safe.”

“I didn’t — I didn’t mean t’scare ya,” Eddie said with a lopsided smile. Wayne let out a soft laugh, relieved his boy was alive.

“Don’t do it again,” Wayne whispered into his hair. “I mean it this time.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 18

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You sit on the couch with a few too many pillows and layers of blankets around you. There’s a bright smoothie and a tray of snacks courtesy of Dottie. As you flip to a reality show about single people on an island, Harlan appears, almost like a ghost, and sits in one of the cushioned chairs. You watch him lean an elbow on the armrest.

“I can change this,” you offer, embarrassed.

“No, darlin’, I’m just fine,” he waves you off, “just restin’ my old legs.”

You leave the show on and reach for a cracker. You haven’t seen Lloyd since the hospital and you’re happy for it. He wasn’t in a good mood, not since he found you outside, but his parents did little to help that. You hear Dottie’s distant singing, an Elvis song you vaguely recognise.

“She don’t look like it, but my wife is a ball of energy,” Harlan chuckles to himself, “she’s so excited for ya, kid. Me too, no doubt, me too.”

“Oh, well, uh… it’s a big deal. A baby and all that,” you say evasively. “I appreciate all your help and sorry for putting you two out.”

“Not at all,” he tilts his head at the TV, going quiet as he listens to the confessional, “you know, I don’t trust this one. He’s got skittery eyes. Like a bug.”

You almost laugh. You’re hardly paying attention but he seems to pick up every word, even as he talks to you. You chew the cracker, nearly choking on a crumb as Dottie sweeps in. She leans on the back of the couch.

“Dearie, I was just scoutin’ out a place to put the nursery and I noticed, you ain’t got no photos with Marion,” she reaches to touch your shoulder, “this ain’t no home, y’all need to warm it up. Never you worry, I’ll be talkin’ to my son.”

“Dot, really, it’s–” you begin to protest.

“Oh, if I don’t got some pictures of Marion as a boy,” she chirps, “Harlan, would you fetch my iPad thingie?”

“Yes, honey,” Harlan stands and obediently strides out of the room.

He returns as Dottie flits around the couch and you make space for her as you turn your legs over the edge of the couch. You can’t protest. You can’t bring yourself to be rude to either of them. Funny how their son drives you to the worst rage you’ve ever felt, meanwhile they can calm you with a single word.

Harlan hands over the tablet and bends to kiss his wife’s forehead, “there ya go, sweetness.”

“Thanks, handsome,” she smirks and taps her acrylic on the screen, “my hubby, genius that he is, put all my old photo albums on here. I couldn’t figure it out, ya know, I’m new and all that to this fancy interweb stuff.”

She brings down the menu and searches until she finds her files. She squints and holds the tablet closer to her eyes.

“Dot, you should get your glasses, like the doc said,” Harlan girds.

“My eyes are just fine, bubby,” she insists, “here we are.”

She brings up a picture of a young boy. A posed photo, likely from school. You barely recognise the blonde with the strawish shanks of blond hair in faded overalls. A goofy smile slants his lips as the camera flash gleams in his blue eyes.

“Oh, he was a cutie, huh?” Dottie swipes through the photos, “and look!” She stops on a photo of Lloyd in a pair of those plastic glasses with the nose and mustache attached, “seems he found his look early… now I never know why he went with the look, but he likes it, I s’pose. But he’s so handsome without.”

You hum indecisively as you watch her flip through the pictures. You peek over at her, her cheeks round as she smiles at her son’s likeness. You feel better to know she’ll be around. She’s got all the love you feel like you’re missing. She’ll make up for what you can’t give.

“I hated that suit,” Lloyd’s voice startles you as he bends over the back of the couch, peering down at the image of his in a too tight three-piece. Likely a borrowed outfit from Harlan that was too slender for his growing adolescent figure, “ma, why you gotta show her all this?”

“You were a good kid once, ya know, Mar?” She twists her head around and reaches you pinch his cheek.

He grumbles and his eyes nearly roll back. He stops himself and kisses his mother’s temple, “thanks for comin’, ma.”

“Yes, yes,” she turns and puts the tablet down, “you should be thankin’ me, boy,” she stands and puts her hands on her wide hips as she faces him, “we gotta find some paints for the nursery. And a crib, change table, a nice cozy rockin’ chair for mama, and let me tell you, you’ll be changin’ the little darlin’ too, so you start practicing–”

“Ma,” Lloyd crosses his arms, “are you done?”

“No, not even close. This is real, Marion, you can’t just throw money at a child,” she tuts as she marches around the couch, “or me.” She points her long nail under his chin, a comical vision as she’s at least a foot shorter, “I ain’t goin’ nowhere til you get it sorted. And start treatin’ your babe the way she deserves.” 

She pokes his chest harshly then grabs him by the front of his shirt. She pulls him down and whispers in his ear, a scratchy hiss you can’t decipher. Lloyd’s nostrils flare and she lets him go. He stands and lets out a long sigh that shows in his chest.

He slinks towards you, shoulders slumped, and chews his lip. He looks at his mother as she remains behind the couch, glaring at him. He juts his chin out and slowly lets himself down to his knees before you. His eyes meet yours, your forehead lined with confusion as he takes your hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” he says bluntly. Dottie growls, a warning. He nods and his cheek twitches, “Peaches, look, I’m… a jackass and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… chased you out and I should’ve stayed at the hospital. You don’t deserve that–” his words are stunted as he peeks over you at his mother, “and I… I’m very sorry.”

He leans forward, making you flinch, as he kisses your cheek, “please forgive me.”

“Nah, don’t,” Dottie steps forward and claps her hand on the back of the couch, “he ain’t earned it yet, but it’s a start.”

You stare at Lloyd, barely able to keep a triumphant smile from dimpling your cheeks. His blue eyes spark and you sense the threat in his grip. Don’t enjoy it too much. Still, it feels good to have some back up.

“I appreciate the apology,” you let the smile break through, “I’ll think about it.”

“Good girl,” Dottie praises, “son, you could work on that a bit longer.”

“Wha–” Lloyd lets you go and stands, “I said sorry–”

“You needa think,” she points to her own head, “I’m a bout to send ya to your room like the child you’re bein’.”

“Ma’s right, boy,” Harlan says without looking away from the television, “lady deserves better than you.”

“Huh, you–” Lloyd sputters, “this isn’t fair. It’s three against one.”

“It’s right against wrong,” Harlan retorts coolly, not missing a beat, “you know you done wrong and you gotta take the flak.”

Lloyd scowls and crosses his arms like a spoiled child. He pouts in his mother’s direction as she smirks at him. She nears him slowly and pats his chest gently, “now, I’m gonna need a budget for the nursery, and your card.”

Lloyd stares at her and drops his arms, easing his stature as he reaches back into his pants pocket. He slides out his wallet and pulls out the gold card. Dottie flicks her fingers at him and grabs the wallet herself, wiggling out the black one. He doesn’t stop her as she shoves the leather back into his hands.

“We’ll go tomorrow when mama is feelin’ better,” she declares as she tucks the card into her bra, “I’m sure she could use some time outside, and away from you.”

“Ma,” Lloyd whines.

“Don’t ma me,” she warns as she comes back to you and plucks a chip up from the tray, “you can do me a favour by clearin’ out the room next to the master. That’s the one.”

“My office?” He stammers.

“You got a dozen more rooms,” she chides, “now be a doll and go make yourself useful. You got strong arms, you can manage.”

He huffs as you try not to gloat. You watch the television as his silhouette slumps away, dragging his feet out of the room. Dottie chuckles through her mouthful, “He always was a drama queen.”

[angellayercake]

Ghost Fandom Fic Recs

This is such a great idea @ghuleh-recs thank you so much tagging me in yours and saying such lovely things about Banchetto!

I must say this is by no means an exhaustive list of the writers I admire but on digging through my tags and my AO3 bookmarks these are the ones that had my giggling and kicking my feet all over again

And this is getting really long so I'm am going to try to limit myself to one fic per amazing person 💜 haha I failed so hard at that you are all too talented.

@ghostchems I actually gobble up everything chems writes like a greedy little gremlin and I love her OCs as much as I love the Papas. But as I recently admitted I have been fangirling about her since before I was lucky enough to be her friend so Black Light Guides You is my go to for many reasons. It's got the signature horny/horror Chems blend as well as our boy getting resurrected and taking back his rightful position. I love how Terzo and Marion's relationship develops and I am so excited about where they are headed in the ongoing sequel A Perpetual Rise. And then Burn with me!!!! I came for Dracopia and stayed for Mia.

@ramblingoak The Queen of AUs if you want a Papa in any kind of situation Oak is the person you need. If I start talking about The Cardinal's Bride I will actually never shut up and Oak suffers enough word vomit about it from me so I will stop there. But I will say Oak is an incredible all rounder. Every thing she writes it is great and there is something fantastic for everyone. Sexy Cardinals, Mary Goore, Vibrating Pants, Ghaseball, Rat Birthday Parties or Zombies have at it!!

@the-hole-in-terzos-shoe No matter what the scenario Shoe writes the most romantic, charming Terzo you will ever read. I was going to rec the incredible My Dirty Little Secret and Let's get these heels off... which was inspired by our mutual love of Vita deVoid's Terzo but then she dropped Intro to Romantic Literature yesterday and I haven't been able to stop thinking about Professor Terzo so just go read both.

@sucharide If you want to read about some of the darkest depravity written in the most beautiful poetic way you could ever imagine then Roach is the writer for you and A Problem of Mind and Body is the perfect example. But my personal favourite and the first I read I think is Ritual and Ruination a silly and sexy look at the consequences of rituals gone wrong. And who am I kidding I can't not put Poor Beast in the Catacombs on here.

@zombiequeenblog I tell everyone who will listen to me about Cardinal Copia: A Sadistic and Glorious Bastard. It was my first Dark Copia fic and still to this day my favourite Copia characterisation. He is such a well rounded full character in this and I can't get enough. It's hot, it's emotional, it's scary at times but I can count on my hand how many couples I am as invested in and these two are at the top of my list. The world building is incredible, this version of The Abbey is so vibrant and all the side characters are so fleshed out. I have an especially large soft spot for Terzo in this fic he is the perfect dramatic flirt and I would give anything to be one of his girls.

@honeyynymphh Reading anything by Missy is like reading a gothic horror classic. The way she builds atmosphere is second to none a little nightmarish, a little maudlin (good golly go get this kid some laudanum!) is such a great example. And another one of my favourite Copia characterizations especially in The Mark of the Beast, Freshly Squeezed and my personal favourite there’s total depravity (standing right in front of me) he is so mean and I love it so much.

@kissingghouls SUCK CLUB!! I can't possibly decide which one of these is my favourite. I love this whole universe. There is so much going on and I can't wait to get to the bottom of the ongoing vampire mystery. I love how they all interact and I love that the all read The Cardinal's Bride! The Count, The King, and The Prince and I just love them all!

@xfilesinamajor With Wandering Steps and Slow This Terzo!!! This one right here is my favourite, god this fic breaks my heart but it is so so so perfect. His self esteem, his natural charm as a defense mechanism god I am obsessed with it. Also The Peach is one of the hottest ghost fics I have ever read. The ghoullettes really need to get more action, especially if it's like this

@writingjourney Everything Ibi writes is just so perfect. The slow burn of Honey and Venom and Unprecedented have me on the edge of my seat. But I have to especially urge everyone to read Friday Nights at the Cinema Club because if you aren't a Primo fan you are wrong and this will show you exactly why. Like I said, perfect!

@sweatandwoe I am always impressed with the ideas that sweaty comes up with. Really fun and original and hot. These assorted drabbles and headcanons are an excellent place to start. Study Break is so incredibly hot and The Sacrifice was a real highlight from petrifying papas. I also can't rec sweaty without mentioning the Saren fics because WOW. If you have any interest in Mass Effect and Turians then you have to read Overflow and Melting Point

@inkstainedrat Lacrimis et Memorias This fic broke my heart and put it back together again. It is the definition of bittersweet and yeah. I have a lot of feelings about Terzo and this story pokes every single one of them and is another one that stays with me.

@violet-lazer Another one of my favourite Terzo writers, in Pride, Incumbent and Astronomy he is so charming and lovely. Also Terms of Engagement Copia is such a cutie

@whatawonderfulexistence--blog Distractions is a lovely first date with Terzo and then Strawberries because i do love when he is being all seductive. Also I'm not fully caught up with Powerwolf yet but Atone was so HOT

@hallowed-be-thy-username Kissing the Obscene was the Terzo fic I ever read and Please Papa was the second and I just keep going back to them. I had started to fall in love with Terzo already but reading these and all the others really sealed the deal. And also coincidentally one of my favourite papa cosplayers!!

[sunnyy-bunny]

i pray you see your family soon 🙏

Thank you :(

[websterss]

THE HADDONFIELD BOOGEYMAN — EVAN BUCKLEY

SUMMARY: Halloween can be scary, especially with a pyscho killer running around town.

WARNING(S): Angst, fluff, mentions of blood, mentions of massacre and dying

WORD COUNT: 2,523

PAIRING: Evan Buckley x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

2018, Haddonfield, Illinois

Travesty broke through the town of Haddonfield again. It appeared that nothing could kill the man named Michael Myers. Yet man seemed like an oversimplification. Someone who could take hit after hit. That wasn’t a man, he was the eternal of evil, and he was wreaking havoc on Halloween night again.

And what better way than for you to spend your Halloween. Slumping it with a nice cold beer at Mic’s Bar. Watching the oh so talent your neighbors and friends possess. You raised your beer to the previous girl group who finished up. Applause rumbled up the bar. You took another sip of your beer then checked your phone. No messages from Buck yet. He usually checked up at this hour of the night, but you wouldn’t hold it against him. His job required his full attention. “Another round Y/n?” The bartender caught your attention. You sighed and put your phone down.

“Keep them coming!”

“Ladies and gentleman, I’d like to introduce our next Thespian, now I used to bust this guy’s balls when we were kids, but he is all grown up now, and he’s become the most captivating…bird whistler.” Lonnie Elam ran off stage and then walked on, Tommy Doyle. 

“Hey everybody.”

You turn around on the stool and rest your back against the counter. If you were gonna stay here, then you were gonna enjoy the most of it.

“Uhh Lonnie put me up to this shit.” Tommy adjusted the mic stand to his liking. “I’m not gonna whistle for ya…instead I’m gonna tell you a story.”

“Ghost and Goblins!”

You chuckled at the girl who shouted out. That got everyone to laugh.

“Any of you know the story about Haddonfield’s Boogeyman?” When he got no reply he continued. “Too young to give a shit, too drunk to remember?”

It was silent. Yet he kept going.

“Forty years ago, a madman escaped from a mental hospital. It was the night before Halloween and three teenage girls were walking home from Haddonfield High. They had sightings of…a ghost-like figure creeping right through our town. A man in a white mask, or was it more than a man…” A shiver ran down your spine as you pulled down your long sleeve shirt. “He was watching them. Before the night was over, three people would be murdered. And the house next door, there was a babysitter, and a young boy and a young girl, and they were brutally attacked by this stalker. Who had a power, beyond any mortal man.” Whispers and chatter arose amongst everyone. “My name is Tommy Doyle…and I was that young boy.” Gasp of disbelief could be heard in the crowd. “So please join me in commemorating the victims and the survivors of Michael Myers.” You brought your hands together to clap along with everyone. It was touching. “Now we have the lovely Miss Lindsey Wallace, her babysitter Amy Brackett was executed that night. Now we have Miss Marion Chambers, she survived an assault. We have Lonnie Elam.” Tommy took the big spotlight and shined it down on each three of them. “Lonnie survived a face to face encounter.” Your eyes grew big. Your parents and friends always told you it was a myth. You were one of those “I gotta see it to believe it” types. Safe to say you’ve never encountered Michael Myers. Not really sure what you’d do or how’d you react if you did, but hearing other people survive him, it scared you half to death.

Yet you wouldn’t know that the only reason they survived was because they were children at the time, and Michael Myers never killed children.

“It’s Halloween night in Haddonfield, when terror is supposed to be fun…” Tommy stared into the crowd. “When we hide behind masks, and we pretend we aren’t who we are. Is he real…who knows? Who’s next? Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but the Boogeyman is coming for me, and he’s coming for you, but he’s not gonna get us. Not this time! Because we will never succumb to fear. This is for your Laurie! Wherever you are!”

You grabbed your drink and raised it up in salute to this Laurie chick. You gulped down the rest of your drink and asked Brian for another one. “Brian can I have one more?” You raised your pointer finger.

“That makes three now…and you drove here right?” He asked you. 

“Mhmm.”

He scoffed and came back with-

“Water? I asked for a beer…”

“And I need a raise for taking care of you careless drinkers, but you know what…” 

“What?” You laughed rolling your eyes.

“Life’s a bitch like that.” You pouted and traced the rim of the glass. “Drink your water!” He gestured to the glass in front of you.

“Alright, alright.” 

-

“Copy that. Utilities are being shut down!”

Buck slammed his shoulder into a door of the house looking around and calling out for any survivors.

“We got a gas fed fire in here!” Buck spoke into his walkie.

His partner that was with him gestured to him to continue moving forward. “Ten-four. Stand by!”

“Copy!” Buck dragged the heavy hose then released the water. Hoping to reduce the amount of fire that was spreading like crazy.

“Assignment complete! Utilities are disengaged.”

“Copy! Eyes on the roof. Watch out.” Buck warned as some of the wood from the floor was starting to break. “With me!”

“Command ladder 13, do you copy?”

As he kept walking further into the house the radio chatter became indistinctive. He was worried he was missing something.

“This is Buck with Engine 118, I didn’t quite catch that!”

Nothing could be heard but the loud crashing that came from behind him. He whipped around and walked closer to the edge.

“Mayday, mayday, mayday, we have a firefighter down. There’s been a structural collapse. We have a firefighter that fell through. I repeat we have a firefighter down, over!” He peered down. “Brenton you okay?”

“M-My air supply is busted.” He then pulled his emergency alert button on his portable radio. 

“Radio silence, we have a mayday alert!”

“I’m gonna get you out of there, okay? Just hang tight alright.” Buck called out to him. Brenton called out to his radio. “This is Brenton with Engine 8. There’s been a structural collapse. M-My air supply is compromised. PASS alarm has been activated…Oh shit!” Brenton’s eyes widened as he saw a masked figure standing not more than a few feet away from where he lay.

“Come in, Engine 13, Engine 118.”

“There’s somebody else down here!” Brentom exclaimed as the man walked over to him. He was then kicked in the face making him head his head against the ground.

“Brenton!” Buck watched with wide eyes as the man started beating the shit out of him. “Do you copy?”

Brenton felt his world stop as finally realized who hovered over him. It was Michael Myers. He cried out as he saw the pick ax being raised. “Buck run!”

“No!” Buck cried out for the man, but stumbled back as Michael turned around to look up at him. Buck didn’t think for a second to get the hell out of there.

-

It had been some time late in the evening when every phone in that damn bar started going off and chimming.

“Oh my god!” Marion gasped. “Tommy look, hey turn it up!”

Brian turned the Tv on, and what popped up on the screen had turned out to be your worst nightmare yet.

“…at the service station earlier today. This evening four bodies were discovered in three homes along the same residential street. Residents of North Haddonfield are on high alert. Officials are investigating.” The newsported announced. The man followed up with a report about a house fire, but what was said about a huge massacre of firefighters made your heart plummet to your feet.

“Hey isn’t Buck on that call?” Brian pointed out to you.

Your glass shattered to the floor as you stood up grabbing your coat and keys. “Oh my god!” You felt like you were gonna throw up.

“Hey it’s not safe out there.” The man Tommy called after you. “Y/n!”

“It’s not safe anywhere!” You pushed your way through people to get to the door. 

“Y/n, be careful!” Brian called out after you.

-

“Got a goddamn massacre on our hands.” Sheriff Baker stood up from peering inside of the car with a decapitated head inside. “Graham.”

“Yes sir!”

“Establish a perimeter.” 

“Copy that!”

Sheriff Bakker walked around the car to fully inspect the blood shed before him. Firefighters dropped dead on the lawn. Heads bashed into, you could hardly even recognize them anymore. “Motherfucker!”

When you got to the location you had quickly put the car in park. The car rolled a centimeter as you got out. You looked at all the chaos, mostly seeing officers, and…

“S-Sheriff Barker!” You ducked under the ‘do not cross’ tape line and ran towards the tragic scene before you.

“Attention, all responders. Be advised we have a violent criminal at large, armed and dangerous.” Graham spoke into his megaphone. “We will deploy all units of frontline and tactical officers to search the area. This fugitive is on foot…and his name is Michael Myers!”

You stumbled back seeing the mess Michael left behind. All what once was the boogeyman used to scare children to go sleep or eat their veggies was now a reality. None of the firefighters were spared, and if that were the truth then that meant….You were pulled out of your daze feeling hands lightly push you away from the scene.

“Y/n, I’m gonna need you to step back, you can’t be here right now.”

“Is my fiance here? I need to know if Buck’s here?” You brushed past him trying to look for him. 

“Y/n please-”

“H-Has anyone seen Evan Buckley? First responder Evan Buckley! He’s with Engine 118. Please, has anyone seen my fiancé!” You frantically looked around, shouting and trying to get the attention of any of the officers around you. Your breathing was growing uneven with every swivel of a turn and whip of your head you did.

“Evan!” You cupped your mouth glancing over at the dead first responders. “Oh g-god…” You almost threw up at the scene. Dead wasn’t even the correct term to describe the horrid scene before you. You didn’t even want to imagine that Evan could be amongst the bodies. “Evan!” You shouted out again. “Evan-“

“Y-Y/n?”

You turned around and let out a broken sob. There he was. He wasn’t dead, he wasn’t dead. You kept repeating to yourself. The love of your life wasn’t dead. You ran over to him. When you reached him, you didn’t know how to grab him, whether or not to tighten your grip on him or wrap your legs around him like your life depended on it. You didn’t know. You pulled him in close. Your hand curling around the back of his head of hair. His face falling into the crook of your neck.

“Oh my god!” You thanked whoever the hell was listening to you. “I thought you were dead. I thought he killed you. A-Are you hurt?” You examined him for any injuries. Buck shook his head no.

“I’m okay, I promise. I hid in the woods as soon as he killed the captain.” He whimpered into your neck. “I-I didn’t do anything, I didn’t help anyone. I just ran like a coward…” It was your turn to shake your head.

“No, Evan no. You’re human okay, those were just your instincts kicking in. I think anyone would have ran. But if I’m thinking selfishly…” A tear fell down your cheek. “I’m glad you did, I’m glad you didn’t stay rooted to one place.” You nodded furiously. “I’m glad you’re right here in front of me. I’m so glad!”

“I was scared.” He shook his head sitting at the back of the ambulance. “I couldn’t breathe, and then he came out of the burning house…picking us off one by one. I didn’t think I was going to see you again.” You reached forward and cupped his face. He looked exhausted. You turned your hand and placed the back of it against his forehead. He was sweaty and warm. 

“Let’s go home.” Buck sighed his head falling forward against your chest. “Please.”

“W-We can’t.” Your voice cracked. “He’s still out there.” You were trying to stay calm for you and for him. Yet your heart that was practically beating out your chest told you otherwise.

“Five years.” Buck said out of the blue. He scoffed then chuckled, shaking his head. 

“What?”

“I’ve never seen him in Haddonfield for five years. Each year on Halloween for five years, he’s shown up and killed people.” He looked down at his lap. “You don’t really start believing the stories they tell you until you see the blood and the bodies on the ground and when you finally do. You start realizing there’s a pattern. One after the other, bodies start dropping, people go missing from a party….and there’s nothing you can do. I’m supposed to save people, but lately…there hasn’t been a whole lot of that.” A tear fell down his head.

“You’re not invincible, Evan Buckley.” You half-heartedly laughed as you caressed his birthmark on his left eye. “A firefighter, yes, but you act like you have more than nine lives. You can’t keep over exerting yourself because one day you’re gonna push too far, and something is gonna shove back. I’m scared of what that day will feel like. I am. I adore how much you love this job, and I love you for being the caring and loving person you are.”

“But?” He looked up at you, frowning a bit.

“I can’t stop you from running into a burning building…I knew the minute that I met you what I was signing up for. I can’t stop you, but I can tell you I can’t bear to lose you. You’re too important to me.” You pressed your head against his.

“I can’t lose you either.” He turned his head and pressed his lips against yours. You placed your hands on his cheeks trying to cherish the moment while it lasted since tonight was still going on, and Michael was on a killing spree. “We can’t stay here, we have to go somewhere safe.” 

“Where else would we even go?” You looked back at the blood bash. Covers being draped over the dead firefighters. You shivered and focused on Buck’s touch.

Buck stopped for a second and thought about it. Then it looked like a lightbulb went off inside his head.

“There’s always the fire station. He’s never really gone there over the time I’ve lived here. We can try there.”

“As long as I don’t look like them…I’m all in.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you, not on my watch okay?”

“I trust you.” You nodded and took his hand. He got up and you guys walked over to your car. 

[thunderbirds-showdown]

Which Thunderbirds Are Go episode is better?

Vote on which episode you think is better. Episode synopses below the cut.

The Man from TB5: Lady Penelope brings John as her guest to a charity event while Gordon and Alan take watch aboard Thunderbird 5. John is out of his element in the large social setting, but his obscurity pays off when The Hood crashes the party.

Chain Reaction: A young man gets trapped inside a dangerous nuclear facility on the verge of a meltdown and cannot escape. Scott takes Thunderbird 1 in to assist, along with help from GDF Lieutenant Marion Van Arkel. Can they rescue the man before it’s too late?

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

“Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny” review:

Short review

“Uncharted 4” hit the same story beats, but better. I’ll give the movie a 6/10.

Long review

As the final chapter in Indiana Jones’ life, I have mixed thoughts. Is it because of the time travel? No, I was actually fine with that. Indiana Jones has always had some element of weirdness, ranging from the supernatural to literal aliens. My issue with this movie is that, as the final chapter in the series, it felt…underwhelming.

It’s strange because the movie was sorta hitting all the points it needed to hit. They had the emphasis on Indy being old, the passing of the torch to Wombat, the return of other classic characters like Sallah and Marion, bringing the Nazis back as the villains, and so on. James Mangold was hitting the points he needed to hit, which makes sense since this is the guy who gave us “Logan”.

But the problem is, Indiana Jones isn’t Wolverine. I think Indiana Jones, as a character, is unsuitable for the type of somber, deep character study that the movie was trying to do. This is a character who was made to represent light-hearted escapism, and you could see that by how the first three movies never went too deep or too serious with Indy. Even “Crystal Skull”, with all its flaws, didn’t do that. So now we have “Dial of Destiny” trying to shift gears into darker, more dramatic territory and it just doesn’t hit.

For example, the reveal that Mutt Williams got killed in the Vietnam War. It’s a reveal that’s too dark and sudden to really leave a lasting impact, especially since the next scene afterwards is a thrilling dive to a shipwreck. You just want the movie to slow down and let these moments sink in. But the problem is, if the movie slows down, it stops being a fun Indiana Jones movie.

So, we got a problem here. Was there ever a way that the writers could’ve solved this clash of conflicting tones?

Now I will say, I think there’s a version of this story that COULD HAVE worked. Like I wrote, James Mangold was hitting all the story beats he needed to hit. It’s just that the story needed:

Yup. I’m gonna say this with full sincerity; “Dial of Destiny” would’ve worked if it was centered on Indiana Jones and Marion Ravenwood going on one last adventure. You can keep Mutt Williams dying, because that would mean the story would be about Indy and Marion reconciling with each other. Going back to my short review, the more I thought about it, the more that “Dial of Destiny” felt like James Mangold’s attempt at making an “Uncharted 4” movie.

Just like “Dial”, the fourth “Uncharted” game centered on an aging Nathan Drake getting pulled out of retirement for one last adventure. That game managed to actually be BOTH somber and lighthearted. You’d have scenes where Nathan is riding around a motorcycle and spewing one-liners, followed up by Nathan having a deep conversation with Elena.

But here’s why I feel “Uncharted 4” worked while “Dial” didn’t. Naughty Dog knew that in order to bring Nathan’s story to a proper close, they needed to center it on the main cast. In fact, one of the best sequences in the entire game is literally just Nathan and Elena driving around the jungle talking about their lives.

“Dial” doesn’t work because the story is centered on Indy, his goddaughter who we’ve never seen before (and whose father is a new character), and this random kid who was pretty much Short Round 2.0. And it’s frustrating because the BIGGEST dramatic reveal of the movie was Indy talking about his dead son and his divorce. Sorry to Phoebe Waller-Bridge but that scene should’ve had Marion as the focus. In fact, it gets even more frustrating since Mutt’s death means little to Wombat as a character. She didn’t know the guy, the most she could’ve felt in that scene was, “Sorry for your loss, goddad”.

Even the presence of Wombat and Teddy are frustrating. Wombat could’ve easily been rewritten as Marcus Brody’s daughter (or if you wanna be spicy, she was Willie Scott’s daughter with Indy, making her Mutt Williams’ half-sister). Teddy could’ve been Sallah’s son. These may seem like small changes, but at least there’d be a stronger connection to the past. Since it’s Indiana Jones’ last journey, this movie should’ve been more rooted in Indy’s past adventures, even if the connections are more with legacy characters.

So, yeah, it’s a mixed bag. “Dial” is a movie that is supposed to be closing the door on Indiana Jones as a character, but doesn’t really accomplish that due to its detachment from the past movies. It’s a movie that’s too somber to be a lighthearted adventure, but too lighthearted to be a somber character study. And what does that mean for the end result? A movie that’s just okay, but doesn’t really justify its existence. Could’ve been worse, but you wish it was better.

[fibula-rasa]

Stunting Into Stardom

WINNIE BROWN, nameless and unknown, has doubled for all the stars, but now she’s to be a star herself

By Adela Rogers St. Johns

——— ——— ———

from Photoplay, December 1922 

Originally, I had planned for this short article by Adela Rogers St. Johns to be the basis of my recent “How’d They Do That” piece. But, once I started researching Winnie/Winna Brown, I realized that the films I was able to find evidence she worked on are either presumed lost or are inaccessible—so, her stunts are un-gif-able! 

To compound the lack of gif-ability, the Frances Marion project discussed in this article never came to fruition AND assertions that Rogers St. Johns made about Brown’s “discovery” are incorrect.

You can probably understand why I chose a different article about silent stunt performers to analyze!

Despite all that mess, Brown seemed like such an interesting character, I wanted to profile her anyway. My commentary on the article will be highlighted like so and following the article you’ll find a working filmography that I’ve compiled and annotated citations.

Let’s learn about one more of those overlooked, underappreciated dare-devils of silent cinema!

——— ——— ———

WINNIE BROWN!

——— ——— ———

First things first: Winnie Brown was also known as Winna Brown. Over the course of Brown’s career, which started sometime around 1913, she was variously referred to as Winna and Winnie (possibly shortened from Winona).

——— ——— ———

Maybe you never heard tell o’ Winnie Brown.

Maybe that name doesn’t come inside your recollection at all.

But I want you to know about Winnie Brown. For the days of the old west, the picturesque old west that held more color and more fascination than any part of this country has ever held, is disappearing.  And Winnie Brown is one of the last of its real inhabitants.

Winnie Brown, the greatest living cowgirl. The best stunt rider and broncho buster and horse wrangler that ever put on chaps. The idol of the real cowboys. The winner of rodeos and exhibitions from Cheyenne to Oklahoma.

READ on BELOW the JUMP!

——— ——— ———

I don’t know Brown’s rodeo record, but I do know that she competed in or performed at rodeos in New Mexico, Arizona, and California. One of which, in Los Angeles, was committed to film for When Quality Meets (1915). Yes, they did actually “shoot the rodeo.”

——— ——— ———

Winnie Brown, to whom the motion picture fans owe so many thrills and whose face has never been seen before a camera. Who has done some of the most daring and difficult scenes the silversheet has ever recorded but whose name has never appeared on the screen.

——— ——— ———

Brown’s film career may have begun in New Mexico or California—she was an active part of both rodeo scenes by 1913. Later in this article, Rogers St. Johns claims that Frances Marion “discovered” Brown. However, it was another woman film pioneer, Dot Farley, who most likely gave Brown her first break.

Sometime round about 1913, a film unit was formed by Farley and Gilbert P. Hamilton called The Albuquerque Film Company, associated with Warner. They produced shorts and features—most of them starring Farley and based on her original scenarios. From contemporary news items, it seems like Brown was part of the crew from the start—not solely as a stunt performer, but also as an actor and prop master.

In fact, in one of their 1914 releases, Reuben’s Busy Day, Brown is the feminine lead:

Production still featuring Brown in Reuben's Busy Day from Moving Picture World, 14 November 1914

It’s no great mystery why, if you were printing a puff piece repackaging a reliable woman stunter as a fresh, new star, you wouldn’t want to talk about how she had already been a featured player nearly a decade prior!

——— ——— ———

But who at last is to come into her own and play not only the “stunt scenes” but the whole star part of a real cowgirl in a real western story.

You remember, maybe, times when you’ve seen the serial star race her horse alongside a train going 40 miles an hour and then leap from her saddle to the rear rail of the observation car—or maybe jump her pony down a 100-foot cliff. 

Ten chances to one, that was Winnie Brown.

Perhaps you have sat in your comfortable theater seat and seen the persecuted ingenue jump from the ninth story of a burning building—actually jump right out into space where no net was visible.

Winnie Brown!

And the lovely star who rode, perhaps, a whirling, threatening jam of logs down the dark and dangerous rapids of a great river—

That, too, was Winnie Brown.

Photo caption: Frances Marion, who discovered Winnie Brown, is shown at the right, discussing stardom with the stunt girl. Miss Marion is now making the first Winnie Brown picture

The most daring, reckless, skillful double, the movie game has ever known, that’s what, Winnie Brown has been.

There’s hardly a great star in the game today for whom Winnie Brown hasn’t doubled. There’s hardly a piece of wild and death-defying business that Winnie hasn’t performed.

Yet to her audiences she has been nameless, faceless, unknown.

When she has gone to see herself upon the screen it has been in the clothes and under the name and mask of some other woman. The credit for her work has gone elsewhere.

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There’s a charming news item that floated around in 1923 of Brown being an unexpected double for the uber-glamorous Pola Negri in Bella Donna (1923). While Brown was very well-suited to perform the horse stunts, she struggled with the fancy costume. She supposedly remarked:

“I’m more scared o’ them dresses ‘n I ever was o’ any stunt.” from Photoplay, May 1923

Pola Negri in a production still for Bella Donna

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“That don’t matter none,” said Winnie Brown, turning her fine, dark eyes on me, “I got the mazuma. An’ don’t say too much about the doublin’ part. Most o’ these here stars don’t like for folks to know they use a double. An’ o’ course it ain’t their fault most o’ the time they do—it’s the company makes ’em. If I bust a coupla o’ ribs or a laig or two, it don’t make no difference. I got a swell doctor and he fixes me up cheap. But if one o’ them fancy stars gits mashed up or her face scratched, it costs the company a whole wad o’ spondolicks.

“Most o’ the girls I’ve doubled for would have been willin’ to tackle it themselves all right, only the company wouldn’t hear to it, and besides, those skirts ain’t got the trainin’.”

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Some of the stars Brown was reported as doubling for in addition to Negri are Priscilla Dean (in Siren of Seville (1924)), Norma Talmadge, Lois Wilson, Colleen Moore, Bebe Daniels, Corinne Griffith, and Marie Prevost. So far, which films starring most of these women Brown doubled for are still a question mark for me. Horses were Brown’s obvious specialty, but she also performed automobile and train stunts as well as the odd aquatic bit. That cowpoke had the range!

Siren of Seville is extant but not easily accessible at the moment, but these production photos on alamy caught my eye. Unfortunately, Brown and Dean actually resembled each other, so you add that with the fact that Brown would be made up as Dean to double for her, and it’s honestly kind of hard to tell if it’s Dean or Brown in these photos. So, Imma include them nonetheless.

Behind the scenes photos from Siren of Seville

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Winnie has donned the grease-paint and become a western leading lady. 

Winnie is going to play the leading role in a real western picture, written specially for her. You are going to see a real cowgirl in action. And there are more real stunts in this picture than were ever written into one script before. 

“Reckon she’ll have to have a double herself, ‘fore she gits through,” said Soupstrainer gravely.

Frances Marion is the discoverer of Winnie Brown. Miss Marion, for a number of years scenario writer and director for Mary Pickford, and now scenarioist for Norma and Constance Talmadge, discovered Winnie when she went to look at some horses. And she decided to give her a chance on the screen.

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As I mentioned earlier, it was more likely Dot Farley who “discovered” Brown, so this doesn’t necessarily have the ring of truth to it. Marion’s husband was Fred Thomson, who was also a cowboy stunter. It’s likely Brown and Thomson worked together before 1922. Marion herself had given Thomson the boost to stardom while she was collaborating closely with Mary Pickford in 1921. The project hyped in this article was intended to co-star Brown with Thomson. It was to be titled “The Law of Life” and was initially slated to be directed by George Hill.

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So Winnie Brown has become a motion picture actress.

“Do you like it?” I asked, when I had climbed to a seat beside her on the rail fence.

“Reckon I do. Course I’m scared plumb to death. Long’s I can stay by a hoss, I’ll git by all right. I’ve always wanted to take a chance on actin’.” 

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☕ Appreciate my work? Buy me a coffee! ☕

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Working Filmography for Winna/Winnie Brown:

The Prairie Trail (1913, short) [source(s): Variety, 31 October 1913]

Campaigning with Custer (1913, short) [source(s): Motion Picture Story, December 1913]

Reuben’s Busy Day (1914, featured role) [source(s): Moving Picture World, 14 November 1914]

Captain Courtesy (1915, character role: “Indian Servant”) [source(s): The Billboard, 10 April 1915; Variety, 16 April 1915; Moving Picture World, 17 April 1915; Motography, 24 April 1915; Moving Picture World, 25 January 1919; Motion Picture News, 1 February 1919]  

Aunt Matilda Outwitted (1915, possible character role) [source(s): Moving Picture World, 5 June 1915]  

When Quality Meets (1915, character part) [source(s): Motion Picture News, 5 June 1915; Motion Picture News, 19 June 1915; Moving Picture World, 10 July 1915]

The Law of Life (1923, unfinished) [uncompleted Frances Marion, Fred Thomson, George Hill production. source(s): Motion Picture News, 5 August 1922; Photoplay, May 1923]

Bella Donna (1923, double for Pola Negri) [Photoplay, May 1923; Pictures and the Picturegoer, June 1923; Picture-Play Magazine, September 1923]

The Eagle’s Feather (1923, character role) [Camera, 23 June 1923]

The Siren of Seville (1924, double for Priscilla Dean) [Le Film, April 1926]

Maybes:

Even Unto Death (1914)

Any of the films made by the Albuquerque Film Company involving Dot Farley between 1913 and 1916 likely featured work from Brown in some capacity. While this film  is noted on Brown’s imdb page, I couldn’t locate a contemporary source that named Brown or described a feminine role of Brown’s type.

Hearts and Saddles (1917) and/or A Roman Cowboy (1917)

When Tom Mix left Selig and signed a contract with Foxfilm in 1917, some of his first films there were reportedly shot at Brown’s ranch in Silver Lake, California. These were Mix’s first two films for Foxfilm and may have been fully or partially shot on her property. Whether or not Brown contributed to the films beyond leasing her property to Fox remains to be seen, but it’s probable. Brown is quoted in an article in Photoplay from November 1927 stating that she stunted for Mix in the past, though the stunt she mentioned involved a train trestle and neither of these films contain train stunts (based on their copyright descriptions preserved by The Library of Congress).

Also potentially filmed on Brown’s ranch:

One Touch of Sin (1917) Moving Picture World, 20 January 1917 [implies this was shot at one of Fox’s “west coast studios,” followed by the news item about Mix moving in]

Fires of Conscience (1916) Motography, 23 September 1916 [mentions Silver Lake locale]

As yet unidentified work:

A Tom Mix film where a woman performs a stunt on a train (potentially jumping from a horse onto a moving train). Since Brown previously worked in New Mexico and Mix was working all over the west (including NM) before 1917, there are a lot of possibilities here. [Photoplay, November 1927]

Double work for Norma Talmadge, Lois Wilson, Colleen Moore, Bebe Daniels, Corinne Griffith, and Marie Prevost

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Citations Chronologically (with minor annotations):

“Film Flashes” in Variety, 31 October 1913 (The Prairie Trail)

Motion Picture Story Magazine, December 1913 (Campaigning with Custer)

“Warner’s to Inaugurate New Service” in Moving Picture World, 14 November 1914 (Reuben’s Busy Day)

“United Film Service Is Now Well Under Way” in Motion Picture News, 12 December 1914

“New Combination of Producers” in Motography, 12 December 1914

“The Albuquerque Company” in Moving Picture World, 10 July 1915

Moving Picture World, 13 February 1915 (listed as part of United Film Service’s roster)

“Farnum in Capt. Courtesy” in The Billboard, 10 April 1915 (Captain Courtesy)

“Dustin Farnum in Captain Courtesy” in Moving Picture World, 17 April 1915 (Captain Courtesy)

“United Film Service” in Moving Picture World, 5 June 1915 (Aunt Matilda Outwitted)

Motion Picture News, 5 June 1915 (When Quality Meets, shot the rodeo)

“One-Reeler Features Messenger Boy” in Motion Picture News, 19 June 1915 (When Quality Meets)

“The Albuquerque Company” Moving Picture World, 10 July 1915 (When Quality Meets)

Motography, 23 September 1916 (Silver Lake ranch mentioned)

“Tom Mix Will Make Foxfilm Comedies” in Motography, 6 January 1917

“Tom Mix Joins Fox Films” in Moving Picture World, 6 January 1917

“Tom Mix Is With Fox Comedy Company” in Motion Picture News, 13 January 1917

Moving Picture World, 17 January 1917 (also Tom Mix)

Moving Picture World, 20 January 1917 (Tom Mix and Gladys Brockwell films on her ranch)

“The Corral” in Billboard, 1 March 1919 (short news item about relocating to Nogales, Arizona)

“United” in Motion Picture News, 5 August 1922 (“The Law of Life”)

“Stunting Into Stardom” in Photoplay, December 1922

“Questions and Answers” in Photoplay, May 1923 (“The Law of Life”)

Photoplay, May 1923 (news item about doubling in Bella Donna)

Pictures and the Picturegoer, June 1923 (Bella Donna) 

“Who’s Who and What’s What in Filmland This Week” in Camera, 23 June 1923 (The Eagle’s Feather)

Picture-Play Magazine, September 1923 (Bella Donna)

“Girls Who Risk Their Lives” in Picture-Play Magazine, March 1925 (article about women stunters, does not cite specific Brown films)

Le Film, April 1926 (article about prominent stunt doubles)

“Risking Life and Limb for $25” in Photoplay, November 1927 (Tom Mix anecdote)