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starry-skies-116 · 3 years ago

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Michael Afton/Glamrock Freddy Playing Fire Emblem Three Houses:

“Hilda, Hilda, Hilda!”

Actually sucks ass at strategy and just does what he can impulsively by trusting his judgement (few times it works, most of the time he screws himself over)

Can’t move units properly and sometimes moves wrong units or swaps combat arts/items/weapons between units when he doesn’t intend to due to his BIG HANDS LOL-

“FEAR THE DEER”

Enjoys fishing, cooking, and exploring the monastery and talking to the students and hanging out with them. WAY more than he should.

Remixes Fodlan Winds with the rest of the Glamrocks and it sounds banger ofc

Wants to adopt Flayn kinda

“THERE’S A TEATIME OPTION THIS IS THE BEST GAME”

“It’s been two seconds and I’m out of gold”

“HOW IS GREGORY SO GOOD AT THIS GAME”

“Lmfao time for my Hilda to destroy in arena”

“WHY ARE NONE OF THESE LOST ITEMS YOURS WHAT IS GOING ON HERE”

“Oh no wonder Gregory’s second favorite character is Rhea she’s so nice lol”

Invests all his resources into Hilda, Claude and Lysithea and builds none of them as tanks, dancers, healers or anything of the sort that could’ve saved him so much time-

Constantly gets stat screwed because he doesn’t know how to manipulate RNG in strategy games

Spams Helmsplitter and Gambits and prays to god that it works

“Why does Gregory enjoy this game so much this is nothing but a pure anxiety machine”

“Lorenz, in the most respectful way possible, hush”

“Caspar join my house. Please I’ll marry you I’ll do anything please”

“THE ARMOR KNIGHT WAS LIKE TWO TILES IN FRONT OF YOU IGNATZ COME ON”

“FREE MOVEMENT FOR DAYS BABYYYY FLYING UNITS SUPREMACY-” *instantly gets one-hit KO’d by enemy archer*

“No inventory space again? Man I love this game”

Parks units in the least safe space possible during the Fog of War Map, abuses terrain bonuses and wyvern/pegasus units afterwards due to trauma lol

“Kronya gets yeeted colorized 2038 lol”

“Leonie please Byleth’s father just died right in front of us”

“Damn no Str. gain? Unlucky…”

“Thyrsus is fun except +1 Black Magic Attack Range isn’t included with my A+ rank in reason”

“So no dark seals? Cool”

“H I L D A”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN’T RECRUIT DEDUE I DONT LIKE THIS GAME ANYMORE”

Has a panic attack at the Throne of Knowledge/Conflict in the Holy Tomb map because of the “protect the Crest Stones” objective: “crap (x1342567823990)

“Dimitri snapped haha *actually kinda scared*”

“I don’t have a tank *cries*”

“I sure do love reinforcements ahahahahah”

“I had 90% hit and I still missed…”

Gets mildly frustrated and embarrassed when he realizes he could’ve learned warp and just abused that controversial af magic to basically one-turn nearly all of the maps towards the timeskip (he’s so adorable when embarrassed lol)

“Have you heard of our lord and savior Skillrex and ICBMs haha”

“Spare the Shambhala DJ and pay my respects to him guys”

“HAHAHAHA NEMESIS GET 360 NO SCOPED”

“I CAN S-SUPPORT HILDA LATER LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”

“STAT SCREWED ONCE AGAIN OH BOY”

“I’ve no inventory space again I hate this game lol”

*internally cries*

_____________

And it gets even worse with the Cindered Shadows DLC:

“Yes, great, more waves of reinforcements, just what I need!”

“It’s only been a whole eternity since I’ve started the ambush map but we’re done- we’re staring off this DLC absolutely splendidly! :’D”

“I missed again haha”

“How did Gregory beat this map again”

Gets major anxiety on the “ten turns until gate closes” objective… internal panic levels skyrockets to infinity and beyond as his circuitry begins to spark-

*approaches death knight meancingly with Dark Spikes T in tow* “greetings, I shall defeat you with the power of love and companionship”

“Golems everywhere oh boy we love to see it”

*regrets not recruiting Ferdinand*

“Aelfric this is why unrequited love is bad for you lol”

“More golems.”

*looks at Umbral Beast* “it’s some kind of demonic zebra unicorn monster… seriously what is that I’ll be seeing that thing in my sleep from now on I’m pretty sure”

"I've only lost like nine units but WE DID IT HOORAY"

#Glamrock Freddy #Michael Afton #Glammike #FNAF Security Breach #FE3H #Michael Afton is bad at strategy #GregEvan/GregBot/GregVessel #reincarnated vessel gregory #Evan Afton (CC/BV)#crying child #crying child fnaf #fnaf project samsara au #fnaf gregory #Michael Afton sucks at strategy part 1 <3 #fnaf #Cindered Shadows DLC #Golden deer fe3h

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glygriffe · 2 years ago

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Dead-end job: A rock and a hard place

Characters - Billie (Reaper), Death, Lucifer

Summary - Behind the scene of 5 x 15 Dead men don't wear plaid: Death and his right-hand reaper, Billie, negotiate the rising of the deads in Sioux Falls.

Word Count - 3 236

Warnings - None really, zombies mentioned

A note - Most recent installation in my Dead-end job Series (the working relationship of Death and Billie thru Supernatural) on AO3.

Chapter 1: Lucifer's Plan

« I think I've come up with a great plan to help Sam say yes », said Lucifer.

« I thought you were already certain he would say yes. »

Death raised an eyebrow making the statement. He didn't want to show his exasperation at the bratty child of God's antics; the eyebrow was a compromise to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

« Yes, yes, but I want to speed things a bit », answered Lucifer, making a swirling gesture with his indexes. Then, with a swiping movement up and down his vessel's body: « Good ol' Nick here is like a suit that is too tight. I'm eager to get my true vessel as fast as possible. »

Death took in the skin problems that Lucifer's vessel was exhibiting. He knew that the archangel drank the blood of, on average, 10 demons a week to keep his vessel (barely) strong enough to contain his essence. That was not that much, considering he had access to Hell. But, maybe Hell was not as well stocked in demons as the horseman thought.

It usually took a hundred years of torture, more or less, to twist a soul into black smoke in Hell. Princes and knights of that particular kingdom were sometimes speeding up the process by putting the soul in limbo, where time moved differently, and assigning their best men on a case, like it happened with the soul of one Dean Winchester, not so long ago. If the state of Lucifer's vessel was any indication, the limbo-torture fast track was not fast enough.

Judging by the poor condition of the cavern they were using to have their meeting, maybe the death of the demon Azazel had left Hell in disarray when Lucifer had finally broken out of his cage. Maybe too many demons escaped top-side when the Devil's gates opened in Wyoming. Maybe Lucifer was killing too many of his minions just for fun. Or to bind me to him, forcing me rise to this plane of existence and to walk the earth, thought the horseman, somewhat bitterly.

« Why are you telling me about Sam Winchester? Don't you have a plethora of demons and other worshipers to act as sounding boards? »

Lucifer's eyes went deadly and he tugged violently at the bounding spell, making Death lose his balance. Apparently, his exasperation was showing more than he thought, after all, and the fallen archangel was not please. To make matters worse, he could almost feel Billie harrumphed, just out of sight, which it did not help him keep his aloofness or his dignity.

Thankfully for the horseman ego, Lucifer's attention-span was short; he let go of his traction on Death's leash, and was already rubbing his hands together and pacing back and forth as he thought of the next step in his scheme.

« Since it would be much easier to get Sam to see my point if his support system was weaker – Ruby could attest to the veracity of that if she was still alive –, I think I'll send you to Sioux Fall to kill that salty crippled old hunter. I'm told that without their father figure, the boys could be at each other's throat, as they were under Ruby's influence. Maybe you could maim Michael's vessel while you're at it. Two birds, one rock kind of deal. »

Death stared at the fallen archangel. Maiming a vessel was not against his Prime directive of maintaining cosmic balance, even if he didn't like to intervene in that way. But he found the Winchester brothers fascinating, notwithstanding God's almost obsessive interest in them. Watching them more closely since the rise of Lucifer in Ilchester, Maryland, he could almost understand the divine obsession with them and he wasn't thrill at the idea of desecrated one of them. Not to mention the fact that it was repulsive to stoop to brutalizing a human to begin with.

A few moments passed in complete silence, during which Lucifer seemed to lose some of his composure.

In the shadows, Billie could feel Lucifer's uneasiness and the horseman contempt filling the space between them. She found a good amount of pleasure at seeing the Archangel backtrack a little.

« Nah. You're right. It would be more fun to beat Michael in the Apocalypse if he is at full power. Forget the Dean thing. Getting Bobby Singer out of the picture will be enough. »

She could almost see the snake squirming to emerge from the fallen archangel and rig the game in his favor, even as his words claimed otherwise. She also could feel quite distinctly that her boss wanted nothing to do with the part of the plan about Bobby Singer, either.

He did not say it out loud, though; he was taciturn by nature and the reaper thought he would do a lot to avoid having to plea with the Devil. That would be demeaning, for sure.

She still could not believe Death had not been able prevent the bounding spell. Even she had seen it coming for a long time before it happened. Wasn't he a cosmic entity as old as God himself? Now, he didn't have much choice in the matter. He was Lucifer's servant, to put it bluntly. Billie would never had let that happen to her, if she had his powers and standing.

Not that Billie herself had any standing, in the grand scheme of things. But she had a little freedom and she wanted to use it to keep the balance in the universe, as Death did. She chose to be here, to assist her boss if he needed anything. She didn't have to be in Lucifer's presence; not like Death had to be while the Light Bringer kept him on such a short leash, literally. But it was interesting to observe him while keeping out of sight. A reaper with ambition, as she was, could learn a lot in the presence of archangels. And Lucifer was the only one she had access to.

Billie receded even more in the shadows to observe, cloaking her presence behind the powerful aura of the Pale horseman. The archangel was not paying any attention to her. His mind had already changed track, his body pacing again the rocky floor, unease completely forgotten.

« I want you to show some showmanship while getting rid of Signer. I'm bored. I need entertainment. Kill the whole town for some flair. You can sort of replicate what I did in Carthage; I won't slap you with copyrights », he added with a smile. He even winked at Death while saying this, and both the horseman and the reaper recoiled a little, involuntarily.

« And make sure to kill Singer in front of Sam, for more pathos; it is the details that reveal a job well done. »

The reaper listened to her boss remind the archangel about the natural order of things that needs to be preserved in the way souls depart this Earth, even in the mist of an Apocalypse. She smiled; he was doing a good job of getting out of the task without outright refusing it. It was easy to tell he was successful by the way Lucifer paced the floor in a different rhythm, looking more and more like a spoiled child about to throw a tantrum. She admired Death's persuasion skills and strict values at that moment.

« Then what CAN you do? », roared the archangel, his modicum amount of patience down right exhausted. « I thought you were the most powerful horseman, but maybe I should send for Pestilence instead; he seems to have a better understanding of my needs. »

Hearing such a lack of respect made Billie's blood boil, even if she doesn't have technically a body here. She calmed herself down when she realized that Lucifer might discover her if she let her emotions get the better of her, and THAT would not be a great thing for her.

After a couple of minutes of looking around the cavern as if he missed something (Billie's presence, in that case), Lucifer stopped fidgeting around and slapped his hand merrily on his thigh. Billie almost got whiplash from the fast change in his humor. « Oh! I know: you will rise the undead! That is the perfect apocalypse scenario, and since we are talking bodies, not ensouled people, there won't be any of that 'souls leaving in the natural order' nonsense. »

« Very well », conceded Death after a beat. He could feel Billie shake her head, but she didn't understand that this new scenario was a small victory.

Since Death took an interest in the Winchester brothers, he knew that when they fought monsters, they won more often then they lose. In this new zombie scenario, Bobby Singer would have a better chance to live until the moment the Fates have chosen to cut his thread. And Death was fairly sure he could get one of the zombies to give a message to Bobby that may thwart the plan of the impudent that enslaved him. Or he could even go himself (and grab some chislic while in South Dakota). The message should by cryptic, though, to avoid drawing Lucifer's attention unnecessary on his intervention.

///

Later, when made aware of the plan, Billie mumbled under her breath that he should not intervene at all: « The natural order should not be tampered with, you taught me that. But if you are forced to do so, do it as little as possible. And that means no message that could influence a life or death situation in one way or the other. The zombie mess will be bad enough. »

Death refrained from rolling his eyes again. Sometimes, Billie could be as tiresome as Lucifer.

Chapter 2

#spn fanfic #Death (supernatural)#billie the reaper #supernatural fanfiction #spn gen fic #gen fanfic

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themadamespod · 4 years ago

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The Great White Gripe

A lot has been said about the “social commentary” within The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

“Since when is Marvel a bunch of SJWs? I don’t need this shit.”

“All this race stuff feels SUPER forced.”

“Oh here we go Marvel tryin to be all woke to get the libs on board.”

If you personally know anyone who spews this brand of ignorance, we’re sorry.

Let’s make one thing perfectly clear: there is no social commentary on TFATWS. Showrunner Malcolm Spellman and director Kari Skogland simply show the reality of life in America. It’s not their fault that so many (white) people (men) don’t like looking in the mirror.

And some people claim they have no problem with film and television addressing politics and social change.

“Just keep it out of my comic book movies. It doesn’t belong there.”

They could not be anymore wrong, even if Chandler Bing himself was lecturing them.

If you asked 100 people to name the top ten movies of all time, you’d get 100 different lists. But one thing we can all agree on is that film has power. It has the power to move us, to divide us, to unite us. Entertainment can lead to the kind of discourse that prompts action and positive change.

And that’s why The Falcon and the Winter Soldier and the conversations it’s sparking are so important.

One World, One Reality

“Marvel has always been and always will be a reflection of the world right outside our window.” - Stan Lee

There are two takeaways from that statement:

One: Stan Lee didn’t say that in the 1960s, 1970s, or even the 1980s. He said it in 2017.

Two: Our window, not your window, is a subtle but important distinction, particularly as it relates to TFATWS. The Flag Smashers, led by Karli Morgenthau, live by a simple creed: “One world, One people.” The core message of the show is that white Americans and Black Americans experience the world very differently, but there’s still only one world, one reality.

It’s just a matter of people opening their eyes and seeing it.

TFATWS is an extension of Marvel’s early support of the Civil Rights Movement. In 1963, Stan Lee created the X-Men as an allegory for the ongoing struggles of the African-American community. Though he didn’t explicitly base Professor X and Magneto on Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X, there are ideological similarities.

Five years later, following the assassinations of Dr. King and Robert Kennedy, Stan wrote the following:

“Bigotry and racism are among the deadliest social ills plaguing the world today. It’s totally irrational, patently insane to condemn an entire race—to despise an entire nation—to vilify an entire religion. Sooner or later, we must learn to judge each other on our own merits. Sooner or later, if a man is ever to be worthy of his destiny, we must fill our hearts with tolerance.”

In 2021, Stan’s words still resonate. Racism in the United States is as virulent and damaging as it’s ever been. Black Americans are facing deadly policing, Jim Crow 2.0 voting laws, mass incarceration, and countless other roadblocks to mobility that most white people have never encountered.

Through the journeys of Sam and Sarah Wilson, Lemar Hoskins, and the heartbreaking Isaiah Bradley, TFATWS shows the unvarnished truth of what Ira Glass might call Black American Life. And through John Walker, the writers nail home the message that’s really making certain people squirm:

White men are the greatest threat not just to Black Americans, but all Americans, because TFATWS is as much an indictment of toxic masculinity as it is of bigotry.

As aggressive racism has spread like wildfire since 2016, so has hostile sexism towards women of all colors. John Walker is the embodiment of the hyper aggression that the Proud Boys applaud. The clearest example of this comes when Walker dares to clap the shoulder of Ayo, one of Wakanda’s Dora Milaje.

Her swift and, ahem, pointed response had women the world over screaming like they’d just won the lottery.

One could also argue that Walker’s dogged pursuit of Karli and displaced peoples supporting the Flag Smasher cause mirrors the Trump administration’s war on immigrants.

There are plenty of parallels to draw. The point is, none of them are forced or manufactured or exaggerated. And whether we’re talking about a fictional road in Latvia or a real street in Minnesota, white Americans need to stop avoiding conversations that make them uncomfortable.

The Politics of Comics

In 1938, Americans were still reeling from the Great Depression. Enter Superman, the everyman hero, who made his comic debut while the nation was facing widespread unemployment, rampant poverty, and blatant corruption at every level of government.

Superman could have faced off against any number of supernatural villains. But Siegel and Shuster went a different route, setting a precedent for comic books that has prevailed to this day:

They got political.

Throughout Superman’s earliest adventures, he fought against evil politicians, apathetic bureaucrats, aggressive police officers, greedy businessmen, and even a Washington lobbyist.

Then in 1941, Joe Simon & Jack Kirby introduced Captain America just in time to fight the nazis and free the world from fascism. A couple decades later, Kirby and Stan Lee would tell the tale of the aforementioned Erik Lehnsherr, who survived the horrors of Auschwitz. These comics endured because their passion and nuance transcended entertainment. So what was the secret sauce?

Like Siegel and Shuster, Simon, Kirby, and Stan Lee were Jewish. Representation matters, folks.

Later on, the X-Men weren’t the only conduit through which Marvel supported Civil Rights. In 1966, on the heels of the “March Against Fear” from Memphis, TN to Jackson, MS, Stan Lee & Jack Kirby unveiled Black Panther. When African-Americans were fighting harder than ever, Black children could suddenly read a comic book about T’Challa, the noble warrior king of a highly advanced African nation.

Marvel has never been shy about critiquing foreign policy either. Tony Stark and Iron Man debuted in 1968 as the conflict in Vietnam was escalating. And let’s not forget, Tony made his MCU debut in a film that is a clear indictment of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

We could do this all day, but you get the idea.

Comic books have always reflected the politics of our times, and so has the MCU. Fanboys can’t start crying now just because they’re on the wrong side of history. And when they do, we defer to the great Jon Bernthal when asked about alt-righters appropriating the Punisher symbol:

“Fuck them.”

Life Imitates Art

In 1986, American men felt the need for speed. After Top Gun was released, applications to U.S. aviation forces increased by a staggering 500%.

Two years later, Errol Morris exposed police corruption in his film The Thin Blue Line. The documentary prompted a new investigation that eventually exonerated death row inmate Randall Adams for the murder of a police officer.

That same year, the Polish government ceased all executions after leaders were swayed to do so by A Short Film about Killing.

Following the release of Michael Moore’s Bowling for Columbine in 1999, Kmart bowed to public pressure and stopped selling handgun ammunition.

And 5 years ago, Pakistani Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif changed the law on honor killings in response to the critically-acclaimed film A Girl in the River.

Like we said earlier, film has the power to spur social change. Even if the effects aren’t always so direct and immediate, television and movies have always contributed to the process in America.

Seeing the Ricardos sharing a bed allowed some Americans to start relaxing their prudish ways.

The Mary Tyler Moore Show and Maude empowered women as they fought for reproductive rights.

The Jeffersons and Good Times facilitated calmer discussions about race relations.

And The Ellen Show led to greater representation of queer people on screen and greater acceptance of queer people in society. Though Ellen herself has become a problematic figure in the last year, that legacy still remains.

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is hardly the first show of its kind. And given the impact film has on society, we believe Hollywood has a moral obligation to produce content that exposes society’s ills and fosters productive debate.

Stan Lee would be very proud of the team behind TFATWS for bringing the stark reality of American life into people’s living rooms. The next time you see someone bitching about it, remind them what Stan himself said just a few years ago:

“Those stories have room for everyone, regardless of their race, gender, religion, or color of their skin. The only things we don't have room for are hatred, intolerance, and bigotry.”

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years ago

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It's Just a Movie: Part 13 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warning: slight nsfw, cursing

Word count: 1944

You couldn't believe it, but you supposed, if you had been watching this on a screen or something, you would've already assumed this. Made jokes about it. Probably have made jokes about how obvious the boys were being. Letting you stay at the cave, the constant gifts, the flirty comments, the affection- You could go on. Really, you were cursing yourself for being so oblivious. Seriously, the boys were already trying to have Michael stay with them for eternity after one night it was no surprise that they'd like you after two weeks. Though, one thing puzzled you, and it led you to asking,

"Is David, like, purposely mean to the people he has crushes on?" And it made the boy next to you laugh. He waved his hand, but he didn't try to argue with your suspicion. After a moment he said,

"He's," He paused for a moment. You guessed that, even though Dwayne was probably one of the people who knew him best, it was for him to find a way to describe the blonde. Finally, he finished with, "He's complicated. He doesn't like showing weakness and…" He left the rest for you to guess. You supposed it made sense. If David really did have a crush on Michael, it had made him weak enough to let him get killed by Michael. Or, at least, you were sure that was how David saw it. You imagined he wasn't excited to have one on you.

Though, the more you thought about it, the more the previous conversation made sense. While Dwayne was the only one that made a move, you now knew that all of them liked you. You didn't necessarily know how you felt about that, other than that if you didn't take this opportunity your friends would be screaming at you. You supposed that, to avoid arguments, perhaps David had the right idea. You didn't need them to get jealous, especially when they were blood-thirsty creatures of the night who could decide you weren't worth the trouble. But, you quickly swatted that thought away. If they liked you, really liked you, you had to stop thinking that way. You had to accept that, on some level, you could trust them not to hurt you. Not if it would lead to all of them getting pissed, at least. You sighed, and then said,

"So...how likely is it that Paul will have forgotten to tell David what I said?" You asked the brunette besides you. Dwayne sat back, using his arms to support him from falling back into the sand. He gave you a look, and said,

"While Paul is a dumbass, I'm pretty sure the others are gonna ask why you aren't with him." And you groaned. You knew that there was no point in hoping that he had forgotten, even if his mind was usually going a mile a minute. You and Dwayne decided that, after a few more minutes on the beach, it was better to face whatever was waiting for you as soon as possible.

When you got back to the cave, you could only describe it as awkward. Whether it was because of the fight you'd had with David the night before or because you knew that they liked you, you couldn't tell.

Marko was sitting on the couch, browsing through some comics. He refused to look up, so you barely paid him a glance. Paul had been messing with his guitar, but you could tell from the lack of headphones that he wasn't really focusing on it. He did his best to avoid eye-contact, but his baby blues flicked to yours for just a moment before retreating back to the instrument in his hands. David, however, didn't avoid making eye contact like the other two. If there was one thing you had learned about David, it was that he loved confrontation. He didn't even have to stand to make it clear that, if you were going to talk to one of them, it was going to be him. He blew a stream of smoke into the air and then asked,

"Have fun?" But the question had just the slightest edge to it. A bit of venom laced within. If you had been more naive, you might've not even noticed it. Dwayne gave your hand a small squeeze, but, to some degree, you knew you were alone on this. David was the judge, jury, and executioner. You knew there was only one way to win with him. At least, for now.

"Yeah, you?" You were going to approach the situation slowly. You watched the way a smile grew over his face, but it seemed to look more like a predator baring its teeth. But his voice was as charming as ever as he said,

"Oh, the boys and I had a great time picking off a bonfire. Shame Dwayne missed it." He said, and you didn't even have to guess what he was implying. Dwayne would have to leave that evening, at some point. It was a threat of even more confrontation, and this time without the comfort of the brunette. Even if you knew this conversation was between just you and David, you couldn't deny that the brunette was acting as your crutch. Without him, you didn't doubt that you'd crumble. In a second, you decided that perhaps slow wasn't the way to go with him.

"I'm sorry, David. I didn't- I didn't know." And you watched him pause. For just a moment, he seemed confused. You supposed he hadn't expected you to apologize. He probably expected another fight, especially after the words you'd given Paul to deliver. You didn't dare to continue. You placed the ball in his court, and you were going to give him a taste of his own medicine by waiting for him to reply. Even if the silence that stretched between you begged you to fill it. You watched how his eyes flicked to Dwayne, and you barely had to glance back to see the silent conversation floating between them. It was simple confirmation. Dwayne had told you, and, when you turned back, you watched David's face turn neutral. For a moment, you liked to think it was covering any possibility for embarrassment to peak through. Finally, after a moment, he stood. He walked closer, his coat fluttering behind him until he stopped just in front of you. You didn't know what to expect, though, with David, you hardly did.

"Does that change anything?" He asked, and, now, it was your turn to be momentarily confused. It took you a second to get what he was asking, but then last night's conversation flicked through your mind. You stared at him, weighing your options. Really, it hadn't changed much. You still couldn't control when or if you'd suddenly disappear one day. Even if you decided to pursue any of the boys. Though, you saw the way David was staring at you, like he was willing you to say that it did. You couldn't promise anything, so, instead, you said,

"We'll see." And, surprisingly, that seemed good enough for now. You didn't have a chance to dig into why he was letting it go before Paul was jumping up from his spot on the floor.

You would've liked to have some big apology from the blonde, and perhaps from the others, but you weren't surprised to say that the best you had gotten was a,

"We cool, babe?" From Paul before he was excitedly showing you the latest solo he had learned on his guitar. There was a silent agreement between the five of you. They wouldn't mention you staying if you didn't mention leaving. Dwayne was able to leave to feed with a peace of mind that night, and he returned to see that Paul was even quicker to pull moves than he was. The long-haired blonde seemed to still want to make the best of what he had thought was going to be his night with you, and he had wrapped himself around you as he showed you how to play a few chords to a song he had learned. You tried not to think about his breath on your neck, or how he leaned forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. When he pulled his hands away to let you play, his arms wrapped around your waist as he watched. You knew that when Dwayne appeared there was no chance in hell he was going to be able to pry Paul's arms off of you. Especially when he made a show of nosing at your neck. When dawn approached, you could feel tiredness pulling at your eyelids. You noticed it seemed to affect all of the boys the same, though instead of simply being awake for too long you knew it was the encroaching sunlight. Paul's movements stuttered and slowed, his energetic behavior slowly edging away as he became more and more tired. You caught him yawning, even if he insisted that he wasn't ready to go to bed. Finally, you offered,

"Paul, can you walk me to my room?" And, for a moment, the suggestion seemed to wake him up completely. He was quick to pull both of you up, and even quicker to ditch the others. Low-light filtered into the cave, and cast slivers of pale light into the darkness of the caves. He was practically back to his non-tired self when you got to your room, and he seemed even more jittery than usual. You couldn't help the smile that creeped on your face, and he even seemed to be hesitating. With your earlier reaction to him that night, you could easily guess why. He opened his mouth, and you knew either a flirty comment or a ramble was to leave his lips. So, instead, you stood on your tip-toes and pulled him down to plant a kiss on his lips. You had meant it to be a small peck, but the second your lips were on his it seemed that all the hesitation had slipped away from him.

You gasped when your back hit the cave wall, and his tongue was quick to flick against yours. You barely had a moment to process, or even kiss back, before his lips were leaving yours to favor your neck. His hands were quick to move down your sides, to your hips, and then to your legs. You tugged on his hair, listening to the growl that left his throat, as he kissed his way up your neck and then back to your lips. It was a flurry, and you found that it was hard to keep up. You barely had room to breathe, and you were pulling away to do just that when you heard footsteps down the hall. It seemed that, apparently, the sun had finally risen and the other three were coming to seek shelter in the darkness. Paul glanced over, and stole another kiss before he was pulling away and standing at his full height.

"Need me to tuck you in?" He teased, and you gave his arm a small slap. He laughed, leaning down once more to steal another. He pressed you against the wall again, his hands gripping your hips, before he finally pulled away for good. You whispered a quiet,

"Goodnight Paul." As he hesitated to pull away. He walked away a few steps, holding onto your hand, before he finally let it drop. You watched as his figure blended back into the darkness, how he side-stepped certain pools of light, and you slipped back into your room for the day.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys marko #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys

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reidgraygubler · 4 years ago

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play date (jennifer jareau/reader)

Title: Play Date

Request: no

Couple: Jennifer Jareau/Gender-Neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warning: allusions to parents death, mentions of a parent walking out, swearing (if any), single parenthood, tbh i don’t really know what else to tag. It’s just straight (or gay) fluff.

Word Count: 3,028

Summary: JJ brings her kids to the park where she meets Reader, who brought her kids to play. The pair’s kids become fast friends, as for Reader and JJ? That’s a whole different story.

A/N: this is my first time writing for jj. please enjoy it bc im big soft for her rn (i will also say that about luke too)... this is day four of my 7fics 7days event for 1.2k followers ! Here is the masterlist for that! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support!

also, thank you to @reidetic for proof reading this :)))

{***}{***}{***}

It was a normal day, right? I mean, that’s what I thought. My kids and I walked to the park after some chores, and after lunch. Nice fresh air, playing in the park, talking to other parents. Do people actually do that? Talking to other parents in the park? It’s been a while since I’ve actually gone to the park with my kids…

"Make sure you’re safe. And, if you need me, I’ll be sitting here," I pointed to the bench that held my backpack. My daughter looked up at me and nodded before running off. My son on the other hand was a little bit more apprehensive of leaving my side to go play. Part of me wondered if it had to do with all the other kids running around, playing with one another.

"What’s up, Buddy? Didn’t you want to come to the park?" I looked at him as I squatted to his height. He looked up at me and shrugged, not really telling me what was wrong. "Oh, c’mon, we’ve been to this park before." I sighed and looked at him while I gently ruffled his hair.

"Your sister wants to play with you, go on." I looked towards the park where my daughter was currently playing. It was a relief seeing her playing with the other kids, not by herself. But she was always quick to make new friends and play with new people. So it wasn’t that big of a surprise.

"Your son can play with my boys if he wants," a woman looked at me with a smile. I looked away from my child and towards a blonde woman who had two boys standing beside her. They looked to be about my son's age.

"You wanna play with them?" I looked back at my boy, resting a hand on his shoulder. I watched as he looked over at the two new boys, his little eyebrows furrowed together as his lips pouted out a bit. "C’mon they won’t bite."

"Well, Michael might…" the woman laughed as she looked between me and my boy. I looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "They like playing superheroes," she was quick to add, clearly realizing her mistake.

"You love superheroes! You could be X-Men!" I clapped my hands together. My son looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows and shook his head. Over by the blonde woman I could hear her boys talking about something. I looked over at the three and raised an eyebrow. "Did I say something wrong?" I looked back at my son. He just looked at me, his eyes just staring at me like I did, indeed, say something wrong.

"How about," the woman spoke, looking between my boy and I, and then down at her boys, "You three go play superheroes, and when you’re all done, come back to us," she folded her arms over her chest as she looked down at the 3 boys. My son looked up at me with a cocked eyebrow, silently asking if I was totally fine with him going with 2 strangers.

"It’s okay, go on. I’ll be here. Have fun," I winked at him before standing upright myself. He looked over at the two other boys before running off with them.

"That was easier than I thought it would be," I laughed as I moved my backpack to the ground, before I sat on the bench.

"They love making new friends. But they can be a little… shy," she laughed as she stepped closer to the bench, "I would do anything for them," she smiled and nodded.

"Please, you can sit beside me." I chuckled as I gestured towards the empty space beside me.

"Jennifer… Jennifer Jareau," she smiled at me as she sat down beside each other on the park bench. I looked at her and nodded. "But you can call me JJ,"

"It’s nice meeting you, JJ," I smiled before giving her my name, "How old are your boys?" I looked over at the playground and spotted our boys playing together. It didn’t look like they were playing superheroes like JJ and I had both thought. It looked like they were playing pirates or something else.

"Henry is 9 and Michael just turned 6," JJ smiled at me as I looked back at her. "What about yours? How old is he?" she asked, looking out at all the kids.

"He just turned 5 a few months ago. And my daughter is 10," I smiled and nodded. I looked back out at the playground, looking for my daughter. She was by the slide, talking with one of the other girls.

"Oh, and you have a daughter?" JJ asked as she followed my gaze to the girl in question. "Well, they both look just like you."

"Well, they definitely don’t have my eyes and nose," I laughed and shook my head. JJ looked back at me with a cocked eyebrow. "And I swear my little boy has their personality too."

"He certainly is adorable," JJ laughed as she looked around at the playground. She laughed once she looked at our boys. I was impressed that my son was actually playing instead of just sitting to the side by himself. To be honest, I don’t remember the last time he played with other kids his age. It was a nice change to see for him. He looked like he was having fun, and that’s all that mattered.

"My little king," I laughed lightly as I looked back at JJ. I noticed she was looking between me and our kids. "Do you come to this park often?"

"Not as often as I’d like. Work can get busy, and then school gets busy," I relaxed my body as I sat back more on the bench.

"Amen to that," JJ raised her eyebrows as she spoke. Her smile was genuine, and I enjoyed looking at it. It gave me a certain joy I hadn’t had in a while. It made me smile.

"What is it you do for a living? Surely it can’t be too bad," I laughed as I turned to face her more. She copied my movement and faced me too.

"I… I actually work for the FBI," she kept her voice low so no one around could hear our conversation. I looked at her with wide eyes. And suddenly every little bad thing I’ve ever done came to my mind. The one time I ran a red light because I didn’t want to be late. Or, the one time I stole a chocolate bar when I was a teenager. Or, when I cut someone off on the freeway.

"The-the FBI… Great," I nodded as I looked down at my hands. "Beats my media manager job," I laughed again as I looked up at her.

"Don’t worry. Media manager sounds like a great job," JJ smiled at me, reaching over to hold my hand. I looked at her and nodded.

"FBI sounds even cooler. I bet it’s terrifying," I swallowed roughly as I looked at her.

"Sometimes it can be. It’s the thrill of the chase that keeps me going." Her laughter was like cotton candy: sweet and light and fluffy. I couldn’t help but smile again.

"I would have guessed it was the boys that kept you going. But, I supposed the FBI does do that to someone," I looked down at her hand, which was still holding mine. I could feel my heart rate pick up slightly as I looked down at our hands. I wonder if she knew she was still holding mine.

"Yeah, I suppose I do have to try to keep up with those boys," she laughed, again, before looking over at our kids. I furrowed my eyebrows before nodding slowly.

"Surely their dad must be a load of help, while you’re at work," I asked about her husband/partner without actually asking about him. She looked back at me and cringed slightly. "Oh… I’m so sorry," I whispered before dropping my gaze from her face.

"It’s okay. Really, it's fine," she pulled her hand from mine and waved it off. Part of me sensed that she didn't want to talk about it. And, that was okay.

If it was the same situation as me, if they just walked out? Or if he was ever a part of his kids lives… Did he die? And, if so how? Was he a police officer who got killed on duty? Or was he incredibly sick? It was a bit of a touchy subject. That was until she asked...

"What happened to their…” she started as she looked over at me. “If you don’t mind me asking?" JJ looked at me. And I could feel her big blue doe eyes starting into my spoiler soul. I looked at her and shrugged.

"Oh, uh, not in their lives anymore," I sighed before looking towards the playground, "It was just after our son was born too..." I shrugged, leaving my statement as vague as possible so I wouldn’t have to explain that we were left for another person.

"Oh goodness, I’m sorry," she looked at me, gently resting a hand on my lap. I looked down at her hand and felt my heart rate spike again.

I think she was able to figure out what happened without me saying anything about him. I mean, I figured out what happened to her husband. If I didn't have to explain what happened, then I think that would be best….

"Anyways, I've been a single parent ever since," I smiled as I looked over at her, “I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Those two are my world,” I locked eyes with her.

“I can agree. Michael and Henry… I’d be lost without them,” she smiled at me as she spoke. With that, we both fell into an odd and slightly uncomfortable silence. We both just turned and looked at our kids playing with each other. I wish it wasn’t so awkward….

“So, the… FBI?” I started as I turned back to face her.

“The FBI,” she laughed and nodded, “I work in the BAU,” she looked over at me.

“What would that be, exactly?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh! Yeah! Right, I forget that people don’t know about all the different sections within the actual FBI,” JJ laughed again, and I couldn’t help but let my heart swell again. “So, there’s a bunch of different branches in the FBI, right. I work in the BAU, which is the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” she explained, looking at me like I already knew what that was. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at her.

“Okay, so… What do you do?”

“Essentially, we read the behaviors of criminals… Like, serial killers, kidnappers… Stuff like that.”

“Like, Ted Bundy?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Yeah! Kinda. We’ve been all over the country, solving cases, some unsolved ones. It’s a wild world we live in,” JJ swallowed roughly as she looked down at the bench.

“Do you know how many cases you’ve solved? Must be a lot,” I asked, feeling a certain excitement take over. I felt a little embarrassed by the excitement I felt. JJ could sense that too. But I could see how happy she got with my joy.

“Too many to count, honestly. I’ve been on the team for… 15 years,” JJ’s tone was mildly confused. Like, she wasn’t too sure.

“Well, if you’ve been in that line of work for nearly two decades, it’s okay if you don’t remember,” I laughed as I reached over and rested my hand on her leg. It was her turn to blush up at my touch. “Media manager isn’t anything cool. Not like travelling the country like an FBI Agent. That’s super cool,” I looked up at her.

“It is till it keeps you away from home for long periods of time,” she frowned as she looked down at where my hand was resting on her leg. I returned the frown as I retracted my hand.

“I understand being away from home for a while. Although, I think I only go on work trips every six months,” I laughed, trying to cheer her up a bit.

“Anyways, enough about work,” JJ laughed as she looked back at me.

I was more than happy when we fell into a comfortable conversation. Better than before, when we fell into the complete opposite, uncomfortable silence. The conversations moved so swiftly from hobbies, to when our kids were younger, to what we do in our free time. Although, our conversations were cut short by a cry from a little boy in the playground.

I instantly shot up to my feet, looking around the playground for my son. JJ was instantly on her feet too, looking for her sons too. The second I saw my son on the ground, in tears and holding his knee close to his body. I sprinted across the playground and right to him.

“Hey, hey, baby,” I knelt to the ground to help him, “It’s okay,” I whispered as I brushed the tears off his face.

“He… He just fell off the playground,” one of JJ’s sons appeared by me. I looked over at him and nodded with an exaggerated pout.

“That’s okay! Accidents happen!” I looked back down at my son before picking him up and resting him on my hip. He sniffled his nose before pressing his face into my shoulder. “Ohh, is it time to go home?” I frowned as I walked back over to JJ and the bench.

“Oh no! Did we have a fall?” JJ looked at me as I got closer to her. I frowned and nodded. “I have a first aid kit in the van if you need." She watched as I sat back down. She sat beside me and looked at my son. “Oh, that looks like a rough owie,” she looked at the scrape on his knees.

“You should see his hands,” I looked back at her. JJ looked back at me before standing up.

“I’ll be right back,” she rested a hand on my son’s head and then mine before leaving us for a moment.

“Should we go home and take a nap?” I asked, resting my hand on his back. He took a shaky breath and nodded before pressing his head into body. I looked up just as JJ returned with a small first aid kit and a stuffed animal.

“I have X-Men and Batman band aids,” JJ whispered as she sat back down beside me. I turned my son around so he was facing JJ. “Do you want… Wolverine or Batman?” She looked at him with a small smile on her lips.

“B-batman,” he whispered, looking cautiously at JJ. I watched as she pulled out a wipe, ointment and some Batman band aids. My son looked up at me, tears still fresh in his eyes.

“This might sting… Do you want to hold Arlo? He’s Michael’s dinosaur,” JJ looked at my son as she offered the bright blue and yellow stuffed animal. I looked down at him as he held out his hands to take the dinosaur from JJ’s hands.

“You can be a big boy, for JJ?” I asked, brushing more tears off his cheeks. He looked up at me and nodded. I looked back at JJ and nodded lightly so she would just hurry and clean his injuries.

“Owie,” he cried as he began squirming around. I held him close as JJ tried to be quick.

“Look! Look! I’m all done!” she lifted her hands to show him that she was truly finished. “You got some pretty cool Batman’s band aids on your knees now,” she pointed at his knees, causing him to look down at them.

“What do you say to JJ,” I whispered, looking at my son’s face. She looked at me, then down at the boy on my knee with a smile.

“Thanks, JJ,” he mumbled before turning to hide into my body. JJ laughed, and looked back at me.

“You’re welcome, Buddy,” she looked down at him again.

“And, on that note… I should probably collect my other kid and go home. It’s nap time,” I looked at JJ as I handed her the stuffed Dinosaur. I really didn’t want to bid farewell to her. But, it was time to go. Time had flown by quickly, it was well past nap time and almost dinner time.

“I agree,” JJ frowned as she stood up. I sighed as I stood up beside her. We both called for our kids, waiting for them to run over to us. “Oh, we should exchange numbers… It was nice talking with you, and it’s nice to have friends outside of work,” she laughed as she turned to me again. I smiled and nodded before pulling out my phone.

"We’ll have to set up another playdate soon. I’m sure they all had fun together," I smiled, looking down at my kid. JJ looked at her kids, then over at mine, "Now that we’ve exchanged numbers and all. How would you guys feel about that?" I couldn’t help but let the smile grow across my lips. My cheeks started to hurt a little bit from how happy I was feeling. I honestly don’t remember the last time I was this happy.

"I think that’s a great idea," JJ smiled before looking back at me. I looked back at her and nodded. "And, maybe we can… have a date our… ourselves?" she asked, raising an eyebrow slightly, "Only if you want! I won’t press-"

"That would be… nice," I smiled and nodded, "I’ll call you?"

"Sounds good! Have a nice night you three," JJ smiled at each of us before corralling her kids towards her van.

"Who was that?" My daughter looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled as I watched JJ drive off.

"A new friend," I answered, looking down at her with a smile.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

#shadow writes stuff #shadow posts stuff #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau fanfiction

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

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Callisto (Voyage - Bit 2)

Prologue Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2

As I continue to write the Prologue, have a little Lee Taylor and Jeff with some Johnny and Scott on the side.

As always, many, many thanks to @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 and @janetm74 for the ongoing support, as well as my technical advisor @onereyofstarlight for the geek out fest on the weekend ::hugs you all::

I hope you enjoy this. I’m certainly enjoying the challenge :D

-o-o-o-

Jeff stared after his son for a long moment. Emotion swirled in his head and tangled with his stomach. That lightspeed jump did mess with his innards more than he would admit.

But Virgil’s words messed him up even more.

What weren’t they telling him? What had happened to Scott while he was gone?

He had read a good percentage of the mission reports and backtracked through Tracy Industries’ history over that eight years. Scott’s conduct was exemplary. He couldn’t be prouder. Both organisations had flourished under his sons’ management, Scott being the major driving force, but his younger sons stepping in where needed.

Hell, even Gordon had dabbled in aquaculture and Tracy Industries was now a major player on that front.

Something soured in his gut that had nothing to do with lightspeed travel. Perhaps he needed to be a little more honest with himself. Maybe things had gone so well, that in truth, his return wasn’t really needed.

Scott was brilliant, his brothers…hell, Jeff was ever so proud. His sons were everything. They had accomplished so much.

But what did that leave for Jeff?

He cursed under his breath, disgusted with himself. His natural competitive tendencies did not need to be deployed against his own children.

But that vacant feeling of loss and lack of purpose swelled. He hadn’t even thought about not going on this mission. He had grabbed it like a lifeline and now, somehow, he had managed to alienate those brilliant young sons and caused pain and worry where he had no intention.

“Jeff? Where the hell are you?”

Lee.

Despite himself, Jeff smiled.

Pushing off from the bed, he floated through the door and into the corridor. Lee was expertly manoeuvring down one wall, his experience showing in every movement. “I have to say that this baby of yours definitely hits the spot. I’ll have two for the Mars colony, please.”

Jeff snorted. “Get in line. The GDF are already on my back.”

Lee pulled up alongside. “You gonna give them one?”

“I doubt it.” He sighed. “Val is ready to vouch, but from what I’ve read from the last eight years…I don’t think they can be trusted.”

“Then what are you going to do?” They drifted down the corridor towards the mess. “This technology is a great step forward.”

“Yeah. So much power, Lee. I’ve worried about the Thunderbirds getting into the wrong hands. This….hell…Brains and Michael make a formidable team.”

“Your boys make a formidable team, Jeff. You should be proud.”

“I am.”

Lee pulled him to a halt with a hand. “Then what the hell are you doing out here, Jeff? Gerry had me on the pipeline frantic.”

Jeff blinked. “Gerry?”

“The swimming one.”

“Oh, Gordon?”

Lee waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, whatever. But he was upset. Said you were trying to kill yourself.”

“What?!”

“Said your health wasn’t up to a long space flight. I know you know better than that, Colonel.” Blue eyes pinned him.

Oh, for the love of-

“I’m fine, Lee.”

“Bullshit. You may not be using that cane of yours, but I saw your medical charts when you got back. You fried your bones good, and your circulation has seen better days. Don’t think I’m an idiot. Gerry may be the excitable one, but he’s not dumb. Hell, even I can see Vinnie and Steve ain’t happy either.”

Jeff stared at him, caught between outrage that his best friend still couldn’t remember his sons’ names and the thought that Lee was also ganging up on him along with those sons.

“I am perfectly capable of handling this voyage. It is short. It is safe.”

Lee snorted with derision. “I know you know that there is nothing ‘safe’ about any space voyage, Jeff. Hell, you’re the one who taught me that. What are you playing at?”

That got his back up. “What am I playing at? Berry and Ju are missing, Lee.”

“Don’t you trust your boys?”

“I trust them!”

“Then let them do their jobs. You’ve done enough.”

Jeff glared at him. “I don’t see you retiring your space legs.”

“I didn’t go missing for eight years and fry my bones. You don’t have to do this. Your boys will find Berry and Ju. I’ve seen them in action. You should trust them.”

Jeff’s shoulders dropped. “I do.” It was an exhale. But... “Lee, I have to. I can’t sit on the sidelines anymore.”

Blue eyes stared at him, appraising. They weren’t unlike his eldest son’s eyes and probably shared the gene through Lucille.

The thought of his wife clenched his heart like it always did. Lee didn’t look much like his sister, but there were traces.

“Well, you’ve argued your ass out here. Looks like you’ve pissed half your family off in the process. I’d tread carefully. That eldest of yours looks ready to chew iron.”

Jeff grunted.

Lee reached out and grabbed an arm. “They’re good boys.” A swallow. “Lucy would be very, very proud.”

It was targeted and it hit perfectly. His throat tightened just a little. “I know.”

No more than breath. “I know.”

-o-o-o-

“I want to know why.”

John looked up from his tablet to see Scott floating in the doorway.

The astronaut knew this was coming. Hence his retreat to Thunderbird Five for a ‘systems check’.

“Because Dad needs this.” He turned back to his tablet, poked the device and shut down the scan he was running.

Scott pushed off the door frame and pivoted to a vertical stance - as a commanding posture as he could get in zero-g.

John raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment, forcing himself to relax in his partially seated position. He knew his brother was unhappy with him and he understood why. So, the question was a pertinent one.

“Dad does not need more illness and that is exactly where this is leading.”

“We won’t be out here that long.”

“How do you know? We don’t know what has happened? We won’t know fully until we are on site.”

John let his brother’s ire wash over him. “Scott, what are you going to do the day they say you can no longer fly?”

Blue eyes stared at him a moment. “What has that got to do with anything?”

John’s lips thinned. “Deny it all you want, but you know exactly what I mean.” He held his brother’s glare. “Dad has been grounded for nearly two years. Put yourself in his place. How do you think you would feel?”

He could see the inner turmoil on his big brother’s face. He hated going against Scott. It didn’t happen often, but it did happen and each time it hurt because it felt so wrong. Someone had to stand up for Dad in this and John feared the day he would be in his father’s place. To not be able to go into space. To never be able to see the stars unfettered by atmosphere again…he dreaded it. Just like he knew Scott dreaded losing his wings.

It was inevitable and they would both fight it as long as they could.

Just like their father.

But understanding didn’t make it any easier from a son’s perspective either. John knew in intimate detail exactly what his father’s health issues were. He empathised with him in ways that perhaps only Alan amongst his brothers could possibly understand. If he wasn’t careful, this was his future, too. Perhaps not as severe, perhaps not quite the same, but the risks were there.

His father’s cane reminded him every time he saw it.

Scott had already changed his rota on Five, Alan standing in more often, John on solid ground enough for cursed gravity to keep his systems running as they should.

Virgil had become hypervigilant as well, medical checks increased. He had once caught Dad’s chart up on display right next to his own, Virgil’s eyes comparing symptoms, obviously worried towards preventing issues before they happened in his little brother.

It had been a taxing couple of years.

“Okay, you’ve made your point.” It was grudging. “But it doesn’t remove the fact that his health is at risk. After all he’s been through…he’s been hurt enough.”

“Him or us?”

“Excuse me?”

“We have all been through hell and back. This isn’t just about Dad, Scott. I know. I’m just as scared as you.” He was, but he was shunting it away. He couldn’t afford it. “But this is who he is. You know that. He’s not going to wrap himself in a blanket, sit in a chair and rock his life away. If he did, he wouldn’t be Dad.” He blinked. “How do you see your twilight years? Are you going to slow down any time soon?”

“John-“

“He’s got all of us. He’s not alone out here. We’ll keep him safe.”

Blue eyes continued to stare at him, but there were no more words for a long time.

John simply stared back, calm and waiting.

“I am so angry at you.” The words slipped from his brother’s lips in frustration.

“I know.” John tilted his head just slightly. “Because you know I’m right.”

Scott got angry a lot, but he was rarely blinded by it. He couldn’t afford to be. And while Virgil tackled their big brother in his own way, John, in the few times Scott turned to him in this kind of situation, found that waiting him out with calm words usually worked. Not always, sometimes his brother just exploded more. But this time, this time John knew he was right and that Scott would understand, if he would listen.

His brother’s lips thinned, obviously with reluctance. “I want a medical monitor on him at all times. I want Five trained on him at all times.”

John arched an eyebrow, reached over and thumbed a switch. Their father’s vitals flickered into all their holographic glory. “Virgil already beat you to it. Wouldn’t let him on board without it.”

Those eyes tracked the readouts but Scott didn’t comment. “Keep an eye on him.”

John sighed and picked up his tablet again. As if he would do anything else. “Just like I do with all of you. They don’t call me the ‘Eye in the Sky’ for nothing.”

A grunt and Scott moved back towards the door. John poked at his tablet and resumed the scan he had been running. It wasn’t often humans were in this chunk of space and he planned to record everything he could.

If he was non-verbally dismissing his brother, it was on purpose. Scott needed to process and John was not needed for that.

And John had work to do before they jumped again.

He didn’t notice his brother leave.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Jeff Tracy #Lee Taylor #John Tracy #Scott Tracy #callisto

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scotianostra · 2 years ago

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Happy Birthday Scottish actor Ewen Bremner, born January 23rd 1972 in Edinburgh.

Bremner has worked with many of the most respected directors in world cinema, including Danny Boyle, Mike Leigh, Ridley Scott, Joon-Ho Bong, Werner Herzog and Woody Allen. Hen has established himself by creating unique characters in critically acclaimed films, as well as going toe to toe with many of Hollywood's biggest stars.

Ewen had worked widely in theatre, television, and film for years before being cast in his breakout role in Trainspotting, by Oscar-winning director Danny Boyle. He was the first to be cast in the role of Mark Renton in Edinburgh's Traverse Theatre production but lost out to Ewan McGregor in the film version, instead he was handed the role of Spud Murphy and earned screen immortality with his character's infamous "speed fuelled" job interview scene.

Prior to Trainspotting, Bremner gave a striking performance in Mike Leigh's Naked, fellow Scot Susan Vidler played his girlfriend Maggie in this excellent film.

In 1999, Bremner received critical acclaim for his portrayal of a schizophrenic man living with his dysfunctional family in Harmony Korine's Julien, Donkey-Boy. Filmed strictly in accordance with the ultra-realist tenants of Lars Von Trier's Dogma 95 movement and starring opposite Werner Herzog, Bremner played Julien its eponymous hero, requiring him to assume an American accent. He then worked with director Michael Bay in his high-profile 2001 war film Pearl Harbor, proving his versatility once again by portraying the role of a wholeheartedly patriotic American soldier fighting in WWII. The following year, he stepped back into fatigues for a supporting role in Ridley Scott's Black Hawk Down, while rounding out the next several years with roles in high-profile Hollywood releases such as The Rundown, Disney's Around the World in 80 Days), AVP: Alien vs. Predator, Woody Allen's Match Point, the comedy Death at a Funeral directed by Frank Oz, and Fool's Gold starring Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson.

This past few of years proved to be a busy when Bremner was invited to join the DC Universe in the Zack Snyder-produced feature Wonder Woman, directed by Patty Jenkins, co-starring Gal Gadot and Chris Pine. Ewen also reprised his unforgettable role as Spud in the highly-anticipated sequel to Danny Boyle's cult classic, T2: Trainspotting

Bremner appeared in the TNT Drama Series Will with Shekhar Kapur. The series told the story of the lost years of young William Shakespeare after his arrival to London in 1589 but only lasted one season. Other notable film credits include Woody Allen's You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger, Perfect Sense starring again alongside Ewan McGregor, Great Expectations, Jack the Giant Slayer, and Snowpiercer starring alongside Chris Evans and Tilda Swinton. Further credits include Exodus: Gods and Kings, Wide Open Spaces, Mojo, Mediator, Faintheart, Hallam Foe, Sixteen Years of Alcohol, and Snatch.

In television, Ewen has worked on many acclaimed productions including David Hare's Worriker trilogy starring Bill Nighy for BBC, Jimmy McGovern's Moving On and also his Australian mini-series Banished, Strike Back for Sky TV, Dominic Savage's Dive, the Dylan Thomas biopic, A Poet In New York and the adaptation of Day of the Triffids for the BBC. Other noteworthy series appearances include portraying legendary surrealist Salvador Dali in the U.K. television drama Surrealissimo: The Trial of Salvador Dali, and a guest spot on the successful NBC series, My Name is Earl, not to forget an early appearance in Taggart way back in 1990.

More recently Ewen has been in the, in my opinion, very funny series Our Flag Means Death, the film Canyon Del Muerto about the worlds first female archaeologist and the highly rated Freedom's Path, set in the US Civil War, it is due out soon.

#scotland #scottish #actor #trainspotting #happy birhtday

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kabira · 4 years ago

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09 | scientific inspiration

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 3.6k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none.

note — so here it is, the big Science Dump that will form the basis for one of the major arcs of the story. now, i don’t pretend to know too much of what i’m talking about, but hopefully all the hours of scrolling through obscure genetics articles will hold up. hell, they probably won’t, but this is superhero fiction about a sixteen-year-old man-spider vigilante, so please excuse it !!! a lot of this is borrowed from the ultimate spider-man comics lore by brian michael bendis.

Vernon was still thinking about Luce’s offer when he got to work later that day.

Normally, he would have tried to keep his head clear during his work, but since all he had to do that day was log data entries, it didn’t really matter. Doc hadn’t come back to the lab yet, so it was just him and the janitor, but from the open holograph display on his table, Vernon figured he’d be back pretty soon. Despite the state of his office, the doctor didn’t like messes, especially not in his workplace.

He hadn’t expected Luce to even consider inviting the others, even though she had been friendly with them. Movie night was something that belonged to just the four—three—of them, something sacred and untouched by outsiders. The thing that had surprised him even more was his own willingness. For someone who had been so acutely ticked off by their unannounced arrival, he sure had warmed up to his new teammates quickly.

Vernon was only a few entries in when Dr. Connors entered the lab, holding a cup of steaming coffee from the cafeteria. He smiled at Vernon when he came in, not bothering to glance at the screen to check what he was doing before making his way over to the work table. One of the things Vernon liked the most about this place was that despite being nothing more than a research assistant, he was still allowed to help out in more impactful ways than simply entering and saving data.

“You’re here early,” Dr. Connors said, setting down the Styrofoam cup on his table. He looked tired, Vernon noticed, probably why he had bought that cafeteria coffee despite it being a thick, dark color and tasting like tar. There were dark circles under his blue eyes, and his usually neatly combed brown hair was slightly disheveled.

“I came here directly after school was over,” Vernon said. “Figured I’d save a lot more time that way, and I don’t really have much left to do.”

“Hm?” The scientist faced the holographic model, hitting a few keys on the pad below it. His movements were listless, but his shoulders were still tense. Reminds me of seniors before finals, Vernon thought. It wasn’t exhaustion like he had assumed, but stress. “Then perhaps you’d like to help me out here.”

“Really?” Vernon tried to keep the excitement out of his voice, but failed. Probably for the better, because it sparked a small smile on Dr. Connors’s face. “What are you working on right now?”

He didn’t get an answer for a long moment. Vernon spun in his chair and pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the remains of exhaustion weighing his body down as he made his way over to the doctor’s table.

“It’s something your father and I were working on before…before this project was abandoned, almost a decade ago,” Dr. Connors said. He was looking at the display with a different kind of intensity in his eyes, like it was something to be defeated rather than discovered. “When I lost your father, I gave up all hope of ever getting back to it, but after all my recent failures, I think I need to revisit my roots.”

Vernon pursed his lips at failures, but said nothing. The hologram looked like a DNA strand—a double helix blown to the size of a poster tube. It shone with a dull blue light, lighting up Dr. Connor’s features, illuminating the creases around his mouth and eyes that Vernon wasn’t sure had been there before. Standing next to him made his own tiredness feel like a minor inconvenience.

“This was your father’s brainchild, after all,” the man said, still staring at the display. “A completely independent protoplasmic model based on the body’s own genetic edifice built to fortify the weaker structure of a sick body.”

“A protoplasmic model?” Vernon’s eyes widened. “I thought it was supposed to be controlled AI, like nanobots or something.”

“Imagine that, except a sentient being with the ability to detect and eradicate weaknesses in the body on its own, without any direction,” Dr. Connors said. “Something to cure everything—the right combinations of proteins able to use the body’s own natural resources to fight any infection, overcoming the problem of grafting and able to treat everything from neural atrophy to genetic diseases to cancer, contained in a small tubule.” His eyes shone. “The perfect cure.”

The perfect cure. Vernon glanced back at the holographic model, now seeing the inconsistencies in its structure when compared to normal human DNA. The idea was intoxicating and exhilarating, made even more amazing by the fact that it had been proposed by his father. It made his chest ache with longing, thinking of the possibilities of fulfillment if his father had been alive still—not just for the experiment, but for Vernon himself.

“He was way ahead of his time, Richard Parker—in that sense, you are a lot like him,” Dr. Connors murmured in a low, wistful voice, as if speaking to himself. “It had become almost impossible for us to receive any support or funding for our project, because of how wildly imaginative it was. We were ridiculed, discredited, called mad for our ideas before we finally got the deal with Oscorp. We had worked on the cure for so long, and just a couple of days before the deal’s signing, your father called me one night, sounding excited about a fresh prospect.” He shook his head. “But then…”

He didn’t need to complete his sentence. Vernon caught the drift of it, and turned away to hide the pained expression brought onto his face by the flood of emotions. He didn’t know if he felt good about being so close to his father’s work, or bad about being so far away from his father himself. Even the mere presence of his old colleague, still alive while he wasn’t, seemed to taunt Vernon.

Snap out of it, he told himself firmly. His father’s death hadn’t been Dr. Connors’s fault—he knew that, but still had to avoid even thinking of that idea, because once the seeds had been planted in his brain, Vernon knew he wouldn’t be able to work with Dr. Connors in harmony. Plus, watching him talk about the work he and his dad had done together, no one could say that the scientist didn’t care about his former partner.

“What did he discover?” Vernon prompted.

Dr. Connors’s eyes turned sad. “I never did get to find out,” he said. “Just two days after the call, he was finally going to come back to the state to share his discoveries with me, so we could compare notes and build on what was lacking. The first step to phase two, he called it.” His jaw tightened. “And just when we thought something was going to go right for once…”

Vernon hung his head. Maybe knowing his father had been on the verge of a breakthrough should have made him feel better about his achievements, but he only thing that Vernon could think about was what all the world had lost when he had lost his dad. A revolution in medicine. A father. He was almost a little uneasy thinking about which kind of loss affected him more. The world could have been a much better place, but all Vernon wanted was his dad back.

“I’ve been unfair to you, Vernon,” Dr. Connors said, breaking him out of his reverie. He straightened while keeping his eyes fixed on the DNA hologram, then faced Vernon with a sad look. “You should have had someone to help you come to terms with your father’s death, someone who could have told you about his great ideas and even greater work. I shouldn’t have left you alone to deal with everything, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to…”

His voice had lowered with every syllable until he trailed off, making Vernon think that his voice had finally become too small for anyone to hear. Vernon swallowed, unable to think of anything to say. He was usually good at talking to people, even heart-to-hearts, but when the subject touched his obscure past, words failed him.

“I understand,” he said, the first words that came to his blank mind. He tried for a reassuring smile, unsure of what the result actually looked like. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for it. And anyway, I am here now.”

Dr. Connors smiled a little. “That, you are,” he said. “I feel like I’ve been doing your genius intellect a great injustice by assigning you all these menial tasks.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta do the menial tasks, right?” He smiled back. “My experience with research is next to nothing compared to that of the other people in this lab, so I’m fine with where I am. And not all the tasks are exactly menial.”

“Still.” The man sighed. “Since it was your father’s genius that came up with this idea, it feels only right to have you develop it further—or at least play a role in its creation.”

“I’m here whenever you need me,” Vernon said, glad about the lightening of the atmosphere. He wasn’t sure how much more of that weight he could have taken. He cocked his head, studying the listed proteins. “What made you want to work on this ‘cure’ again after so long?”

“A lot of different reasons,” the scientist said. “I think I had been avoiding this project for so long because I couldn’t bear to continue it without Richard by my side, but meeting you, his son, and having you take up a position in my lab felt like a sign.” He gave the boy a sideways smile. “And from a scientific viewpoint—before this, I’d been working on a different kind of cure, a serum with a principle based in cross-species genetics. It was supposed to be give a person the ability to regenerate lost limbs like a lizard, but the premature human trials went off the rails.”

Vernon nodded, keeping his mouth clamped shut. “I see,” he said, not wanting to bring up the Lizard incident unless he was sure Dr. Connors was ready to address it.

“However, after someone helped…fix the problem by making an anti-serum, the new formula for it gave me an idea,” the man continued. “Scientific inspiration, I guess you could call it. There’s a lot to be done, but I still have the anti-serum here in the lab, and have been studying it for over a month now.”

The gears had already begun turning in Vernon’s head. He had been the one to create the anti-serum as Spider-Man, and no one knew the methodology better than the original creator. Most of it had stemmed from the original Lizard formula, and with a bit of recalibration and measured reversal, the formula had worked. That makes me wonder…

“Hey, doc,” he murmured, brow pinched into a thoughtful frown, “if you had a sample of perfectly bonded human and non-human cell structure, do you think you would be able to mimic it and engineer a matching structure for the cure?”

The man frowned. “How do you mean?”

“I mean…” Vernon hesitated. Because of the OZ formula transferred into his blood by the spider bite, his DNA was perfectly bonded to spider DNA, which gave him what they called in post-human-speak a ‘healing factor’. It wasn’t as effective as Wolverine’s, but it was still something—and it was based on the same principle as the cure. Like the OZ formula helped his body develop a natural cure for anything he could be hit by—be it a paper cut or a head wound—by using its own resources.

The only difference was that it heightened his facilities by combining human abilities with spider abilities, which gave him things like his spider sense. However, if Vernon could use his own blood to develop a kind of skeletal structure for the cure. If it did work, it would only work on enhanced spider/human DNA, but at least then he’d have a start. The possibilities after that were endless.

“If there already existed a perfect sample of blood which had an in-built system like the cure,” Vernon said, trying not to give away too many details.

“Like mutant DNA?” Dr. Connors asked. “They have a completely different genetic structure in place, though, Vernon. They have the X-Gene. Their nucleotide sequence itself is mutated.”

“No, not like that,” Vernon said. “Like human DNA, just…enhanced. Bonded with something like the cure, just not—not living.”

Dr. Connors raised his eyebrows. “Well, having a perfect sample would reduce the needed brainwork to a tenth,” he said. “But you couldn’t acquire a sample like that, because, well, it exists only in theory.”

“Right,” Vernon muttered, but already the beginnings of a smile had started to curve his lips. “Only in theory.”

Vernon’s mind was buzzing with so much excitement from his idea for the cure that even web-slinging hadn’t been able to distract him from it.

He and the rest of the S.H.I.E.L.D. team had spent the evening scouring the city for any signs of something that could substantiate Vernon’s theory, but had come up with nothing except a few petty criminals, who had been easily stopped. The other three had left early, telling him to use their new communication devices (which looked an awful lot like kitschy wrist bands, except for the fact that they could turn invisible) if anything came up.

Nothing did.

It was nine p.m. and Vernon had still not changed out of his Spidey suit, spending the free hour to swing around the city and try and clear his head. Too much had happened in one day, and his mood was seesawing between elation at his new project and trepidation because of the dreaded return of movie night. Funny that a high school hangout was a source of more nervousness for him than trying to imitate his own radioactive blood sample to finish his dad’s decades old design.

When I put it like that, it sounds even more absurd, he thought, scrolling through the usual evening homework-help texts on his phone as he waited in line to buy eggs and a carton of milk at the not-so-local grocery store. Even Spider-Man had to obey queues when he was out doing chores for Aunt May.

He paid for the eggs and milk without the tattooed cashier giving him a second glance, and stepped out into the street with the bags. Aunt May wouldn’t be back until ten; he had about an hour to kill until curfew, but he wanted to get home early to talk to her about movie night (yet another reaction to dread) and hopefully study his spidery OZ-bonded radioactive blood under the lens of his old microscope that Uncle Ben had gotten him over a year ago.

“Yo, Spidey!”

Vernon looked up to see a chubby, tanned guy in his late twenties beaming at him like an old friend as he jogged up to meet him. “Hey, I remember you,” he said, pointing at the guy. “You’re uhhh…” He squinted at him, trying to remember when he’d last seen him. “That pizza delivery guy who almost got abducted by aliens!”

“That’s me! Paulo!” the guy exclaimed, his wide smile widening even more upon being recognized. “You saved me from those killer robot aliens last month, remember? And I promised you free pizza in case you ever needed it,” he added. “How’s it going?”

“As usual.” He raised the bag containing the groceries he’d just bought.

“Running errands when you get a break from crime-fighting, eh?” Paulo asked, giving his thick dark curls a shake. His smile refused to dim even a bit, like someone had switched on a light bulb with a permanent power source. “Keeps the superheroes humble.”

“Tell that to Captain America.” Vernon checked the comm device on his wrist, almost groaning out loud when he saw it was almost half past nine already. “Great. Uh, Paulo, I’ll have to catch you later. It’s late, and I gotta get back well before curfew in case there are delays on the way.”

“Of course! Go do your Spider-Man thing.” Paulo lifted his hands, mimicking the thwip-thwip gesture of shooting webs, and grinned. “See you later, Spidey!” he called out from behind him as Vernon swung himself up to a lamppost before launching himself into the air. “Remember the offer with the free pizzas still stands!”

“I will!” Vernon yelled back as he swung away. And he wasn’t just saying that, either—free pizzas were free pizzas.

He had to change in an alleyway again, but thankfully this time it didn’t have an open dumpster or smell like someone had thrown out a decayed cheese slab in the trash. By the time he got back home, Aunt May was already back, as indicated by the lights in the kitchen. Just perfect, he thought miserably, as he unlocked the front door with his spare key and trudged into the hallway.

“Vernon! You’re back early,” a voice yelled from the kitchen when she heard the door shut behind him. A woman with short silver hair, clad in a comfortable t-shirt and yoga pants came out into the living room as he entered it, wiping her hands with a hand towel. “Did you get the milk and eggs like I asked you to?” Aunt May asked.

For an older lady, she sure has great hearing. “Yep,” he said, swinging his bag off his shoulders and unzipping it, internally praying he hadn’t squashed the milk carton from all his swinging like last time. Thankfully, they were undamaged. “Did you come back from yoga classes early?”

“Oh, Denise pulled a muscle in her back, poor thing,” May said. “I offered to bring her back home, but she refused to let me ice it for her, saying she’d get Mac to do it instead.” She disappeared into the kitchen once again, coming out without the hand towel this time. “Put the groceries in the fridge, won’t you?”

For an older lady, Aunt May also had a lot of things going for her. Yoga classes on Monday-alternating weekdays, squash sessions over the weekend, classes for baking and music and whatnot—she might even have been busier than Vernon himself.

“Will do,” he said, obeying. His mind was still swimming with all the older thoughts, but now that he was standing right in front of Aunt May, the worry about movie night had pushed itself to the forefront, demanding all of his nervous attention.

He stood at the fridge even after closing the door, chewing his lip and wondering how to bring it up. Words really had failed him today. “Aunt May?” he ventured, unable to keep the hint of nerves from his voice. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What is it, honey?” she asked, poking her head out of the kitchen. Around her waist was an apron that said Don’t Kiss the Cook. “Vernon?”

He kissed his teeth, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet. “It’s about movie night.”

She stilled. “What about movie night?”

Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, Vernon thought, pursing his lips. Aunt May hadn’t exactly been close with the Osborns, but he knew she had cared about Harry in her own way, the same way she cared about any neglected kid that Vernon brought home like an abandoned cat. She gave them as much comfort as she could, tried to give them the family they never really had, even if she knew she couldn’t completely replace them. It had happened before: Harry, and Luce—and now, Vernon thought with a little sigh, maybe even the team.

“Luce asked me to ask you if you were okay with us doing movie night this weekend,” he said slowly. “And there are these new kids, and she told me to ask them too, but if you’re busy we can always—”

“Vernon!” Aunt May smiled widely, coming out of the kitchen to rest her hands on his shoulders and give them a big squeeze. “Of course I’m okay with it! Oh, you don’t know how I wished you kids would do one of those again, I’m sure that’s what Harry would have wanted too.” She gave him a motherly smile, one that was soft and sad at the same time. “I’ll leave the house to you kids that day.”

“Oh, no, Aunt May, that’s not necessary—” he started, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t be so formal with me, kiddo,” she said. “I know movie night means a lot to you, and if you have new friends coming over, I’m sure you don’t want a chaperone around.” She raised her eyebrows. “Although I would like to meet them before I go out.”

Vernon sighed, but there was a tiny smile on his face. “God, you’re the best.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She winked. “Besides, even an old woman like me needs to go out with her friends every once in a while, too. This might just turn out to be a good break for both of us.”

He nodded, feeling a welling of emotion in his chest that wouldn’t go down no matter how much he tried to push it away. One less thing to worry about, he thought half-heartedly, trying not to think about how Aunt May’s agreement meant movie night was on, which had the potential to be an even more worrying prospect. “I hope so.”

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cordonian-literature · 4 years ago

Text

Forever Mine

chapter one

❦ summary — The time for Princess Riley to step into her role as queen fast approaches and finding the future king is Cordonia’s top priority. Commander Liam is aware of that, and has plans to make sure the princess ends up with someone suitable.

➺ a/n: most of this story will be told in third person POV, unless stated otherwise

❦ chapter warnings: mild language

➺ catch up here!

❦ word count: (+/-) 1750

*all characters belong to Pixelberry, except those unique to my story*

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Hidden in the midst of lively chatter and music, Leo watches as different members of the nobility enter the ballroom. It wasn’t difficult to see who was who under all the masks, and Leo notices many of Riley’s suitors.

Leo turns his head slightly when Maxwell Beaumont and another childhood friend of Riley’s, Hana Lee, are announced by the herald. Lady Hana hadn’t visited Cordonia in ages. Riley would be glad to see her.

Leo remembers that Maxwell’s father had been close friends with Constantine before Riley's mother’s death. Maxwell was probably a favorable choice for Riley in the king’s eyes. More than that, Leo trusted Maxwell, remembering when the boy had confessed to having a crush on the princess when they were still children. Leo wonders if those feelings had gone away or resurfaced.

There was also Ezekiel Theron. Even though he was the son of a diplomat, Leo had rarely seen Ezekiel at political summits and had never heard of his involvement or concern for any issue. Maybe Leo was looking too much into it. If Ezekiel didn’t particularly care for being king, then all the better: Riley would be allowed to rule by her own accord without a power-hungry man breathing down her neck.

A familiar scent wafts past Leo; he recognizes it as Madeleine’s perfume. She has her arm linked with a distant cousin, Michael. Leo doesn’t know much about him, and he suspects that was purposeful. Madeleine has chosen someone whose image she can mold herself.

Leo’s shoulders relax once he sees Rashad entering the ballroom. A gentleman well versed in politics, but a businessman as well. If he had the chance to become king, would he abandon his business to rule by Riley’s side? Leo thinks it's unlikely.

But Leo’s shoulders tense up again when Neville is announced. There was nothing wrong with him that Leo could physically point out, but the way Neville looked at women made Leo uncomfortable; Madeleine had once pointed it out to him early in their engagement.

Moving away from his spot, Leo makes his way through the crowd, looking for a silent way to enter the ballroom.

Behind him, people’s conversations quiet into whispers once Prince Alexander of Hidar is announced. Leo doesn’t think Constantine would go through with using Riley’s hand in marriage as a peace treaty. But Hidar and Cordonia are dangerously close to war. Leo wonders if Liam would support the option if it were the best for the country.

Are those all of the suitors? Did I miss anyone? Leo wonders. Some of the Great Houses had not sponsored any young men for the season. The less men the better, Leo thinks to himself. Only six men he has to keep an eye on.

He enters the ballroom, the shine of jewels and glass and smiles consuming him. Leo lets out a gentle sigh, revealed no one noticed him, then promptly runs into Drake who is visibly shocked at the sight of Leo.

After an awkward laugh, Drake gives him a pat on the back as a greeting.

“She’s about to be introduced to the suitors,” Drake tells him. Both men look towards the front of the ballroom, where the men vying for Riley’s hand have lined up.

Constantine sits on his throne with Commander Liam to his left and Riley next to Liam. The princess’ and Commander’s heads are tilted in each other’s direction. The man whispers into Riley’s ear, making her blush and giggle.

Drake frowns at the sight. Sure, Liam had given Drake every reason to trust him, but that trust would disappear whenever Riley came into the picture; the man was too frank with her.

Leo admits to himself that Riley being so close to the Commander didn’t seem very proper, but they were close friends and Leo trusted his sister to know her limits.

From their spot on the sidelines, Drake and Leo watch as Riley fully turns to face Liam. The princess stands on her toes, her elaborate gown shifting with every movement, and whispers something into the Commander’s ear. Leo notices a new piece of jewelry hanging from her neck; it shines like the crystals in the chandeliers. Liam’s hand goes to her hip as he tilts his head down. Once she leans back, they make eye contact and gently giggle.

“Is she serious? Does her father not see her acting like that?” comes a comment from a small group of nobles to Drake’s left.

“Maybe they should keep their distance,” Drake comments under his breath. “If you forget that they’re close friends, you could think—”

“There’s no reason to speculate,” Leo interrupts him forcefully. “Look, Connie’s part of the conversation, too.”

They watch as Constantine shares a laugh with the Commander and the princess.

Once he stops laughing, Constantine waves his finger, and Liam kneels down to hear something the King says. When he stands up again, the friendly expression is gone and the Commander’s face yields no emotion.

Once the suitors start greeting the King and Riley, Drake and Leo watch Liam intently, neither of them completely comfortable with how close he seemed with Riley.

The Commander maintains a stoic expression as the suitors kiss Riley’s hand and give short introductions: Michael is the most charming, Liam admits to himself, Maxwell seems the friendliest, with Ezekiel the most nervous. Rashad was the embodiment of the perfect gentleman, and from the corner of his eye Liam sees Riley blush at the compliment the man hands her. Prince Alexander and Neville seem the most arrogant, but Liam is willing to let them change his mind.

Once they all walk away, music fills the room. Riley turns to look at Liam, but Neville is in front of her again, asking for a dance. As they walk away, Riley gives Liam a playful frown. He gives her a small smile, and watches as Neville leads her to the middle of the dance floor.

Liam stares at Neville intently, his gaze darkening once he notices that the man’s hands were a bit too low on Riley’s torso, that Neville had glanced towards her chest one time too many, and that he’s standing too close to her.

“Hey, man,” Leo’s voice makes Liam’s attention falter. He has to pry his eyes off of Riley and Neville.

“Your Highness,” Liam greets, bowing his head respectfully.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop with that?” Leo pulls Liam into a quick embrace, giving him a brotherly pat on the back. Once they part, Leo asks, “What were you and Connie talking about?”

With a sigh, Liam tells him. “He’s declaring war against Monterisso tomorrow morning.”

Leo raises his eyebrows. “Nothing on Hidar?”

“It wouldn’t be very practical to be hostile with them while their prince is sleeping under our roof.”

A rough chuckle escapes Leo. “Guess that means more paperwork for you.”

Liam scoffs, having now fully turned back to face Riley and her dance partner. “Nothing too difficult,” the Commander comments. “I’ll maybe miss a few events here and there, nothing more.”

Leo follows Liam’s gaze back to Riley. He wanted to ask the Commander about the princess, slightly itching to know Liam’s reason for being so close to Riley. But before Leo can form a sentence, Liam speaks up, still staring at Riley.

“Will you remain in Cordonia for the season?”

A waiter passes by them and Leo grabs a glass of champagne. Liam refuses the offered glass, putting up a hand when the waiter stops in front of him.

After a few sips, Leo musters an answer. “I’ll probably stay for the whole thing. I actually was planning on being far away when the season started, but figured that being here to support Riley couldn’t hurt.”

Liam gives a low laugh. “I’m sure she’ll be thankful for it. She hasn’t been doing too well these past few days.”

“Anything serious?”

“No, I’m assuming it’s just anxiety.” Liam remembers the anxiety that he had during his first military ball. That had been long before he met his darling. “I hope I’m enough of a shoulder for her to cry on. I’d hate for her to be alone when she feels like this.”

Leo feels the grip on his heart loosen; clearly there was nothing between Liam and Riley. The Commander was just concerned for his friend, and Riley had taken the only outlet she had been presented with.

The rest of the evening passes by in a tense blur. Liam, Leo, and Drake discuss each of the suitors and their behaviors with Riley, and when Duchess Olivia finally arrives, she gave her opinions about each of the men as well. Prince Alexander had approached Liam and Leo separately, and both men found the prince to be as arrogant as they had assumed.

Leo and Drake were also visibly more at ease around Liam compared to how they had been in the beginning of the evening. It was clear that Liam was just being a good friend, and by the way he spoke about Riley, Leo and Drake were convinced that the Commander’s affections were anything but romantic.

And plus, the declaration of war would keep Liam cooped up in his office and away from Riley. Leo tells himself that there’s nothing to worry about.

The Commander, on the other hand, had taken note of the odd questions Leo and Drake asked. As he retired for the evening and walked back to his office, Liam reminds himself that there will be a time when he can present his love for his darling for the entire world to see, but that will have to wait. He had to be more careful around Leo and Drake. Or maybe Leo and Drake should be more careful around him.

When Liam reaches his office, the room in a dark hue, he grabs the new pile of papers and smacks them down on his desk. Through the window, he can see drunk party-goers singing into the night with wild abandon. After turning on a light and taking a seat, the Commander glances over at the sealed pink box on the corner off his desk, filled with the letters he had written to Riley but never dared send. One day, he told himself, he’d be able to recite each letter’s contents to her.

He pries his thoughts away from her and focuses on trying to finish some of his paperwork. Otherwise he won’t be able to attend the Derby tomorrow.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tags :)

tags: @twinkleallnight @gkittylove99 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kingliam2019 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @queenrileyrose @royalromancer @princess-geek @mom2000aggie

#the royal romance #trr #the royal romance fanfic #trr fanfic #drake walker #liam x mc #liam x riley #trr liam #choices trr fanfic #choices trr au #trr au fanfic #trr au #choices fanfiction #evil liam #trr leo

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evanoracronwell · 4 years ago

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Kaus Australis

Michael Guerin doesn't know how to deal with the absence of Alex Manes in his life.

Also on ao3

2009

Michael was ... content.

It had been a long time since a real smile appeared on his lips. But finally, today he had a sincere smile and a feeling of happiness.

Finally, he managed to buy his long-awaited Airstream and after all the necessary renovations, it was official. Michael Guerin had a home!

With a sigh of contentment, he took a sip of beer and then played with the bottle between his fingers, right in front of the Airstream he had placed some old chairs he bought in the old Junkyard, and with a barrel cut in half, he had a bonfire to help keep him warm on the cold desert nights.

Alex used to do this ... keep him warm ...

Don't.

Michael shouted in his head. Don't go there, Guerin.

Just don't. Because if he does, if he allows himself to think about Alex, then that suffocating pain will come to the surface and Michael doesn’t know how to deal with it, he doesn’t know how to deal with the emptiness he feels inside his own chest, he doesn't know how to deal with the shortness of breath that sometimes makes him dizzy, he doesn't know how to deal with the urge to scream and cry every time he passes in front of the museum.

Michael Guerin doesn't know how to deal with the absence of Alex Manes in his life.

It hurts, physically and emotionally.

A pain like no other he had ever felt in his life, and that coming from a boy who had gone through sessions of exorcisms and a hand smashed by a hammer.

So no, he wouldn't think about Alex Manes, not tonight. He would just sit there in his chair, enjoying a good beer, snuggling up in the plushy jacket he had gotten at Goodwill, and warming up by the fire. Yes, that was exactly what he would do.

Michael looked up at the sky for a few seconds and smiled as soon as his eyes found his constellation.

"Sagittarius is the fifteenth largest constellation in the sky, and it is quite easy to find because it is in the Milky Way and its brightest stars form an asterism known as the Teapot."

Michael looked up a little scared and stared at Alex who was lying on his chest, it was past midnight and they should have left hours ago, but instead, they were here, lying naked in each other's arms on the makeshift bed in the back of the truck, wrapped in blankets to protect them from the cold desert. In silence, just enjoying each other's presence when Alex murmured those facts about stars and constellations.

"Since when do you understand about this?"

"What ?! You are always so fascinated by everything related to space and I love to hear you talk about it. So I thought about giving it a try."

"And you choose to learn about the constellation of my zodiac sign?" he asked and smiled when Alex just shrugged his shoulders against his body.

"Okay, then, tell me more about the Sagittarius constellation."

"Fuck"

He growls as he takes another sip of beer, avoiding thinking about Alex is useless and he doesn't know why he still insists on deceiving himself that he is capable of it. That damn man had filled Michael's life with hope and a feeling so good and warm that for the first time he had dared to think that he could really be happy, even build a family for himself someday.

Then all hell broke loose.

First Jesse, then Rosa.

The guilt was consuming him every day, every time he saw the Crashdown, every time he heard someone talking about the drugged and troubled Mexican girl who killed two poor innocent girls, every time he saw the pain of losing a great friend in Alex's eyes.

Then he pushed Alex away, pushed him away when all he wanted to do was pull him close. Wrap Alex in his arms with all the strength he possessed and never let go.

Michael knows that it is only his fault, that Alex's leaving is his responsibility. But fuck, if he could, if Michael could just go back in time. He would never have let Alex go, he would have kissed him with all the love in the world, he would have touched him on every piece of skin on his body and he would have said that he loved him, a thousand times, a million times. He would have left Roswell with Alex, far away, where no one could find them. They would build a life, a family.

And screw Jesse Manes. Isobel. Max.

And all the rest of this fucked up world.

"... in Greek mythology, Sagittarius represents a centaur ..."

Alex, who helped him without expecting anything in return.

Alex, who showed him that there could be kindness in the world.

Alex, who carried his heart on his sleeve and had the most beautiful smile Michael had ever seen in his life.

Alex, who taught Michael what true love is.

"... the centaur is depicted holding a bow and arrow ..."

Alex murmured smiling sensuously as he wrapped his leg around Michael's waist, getting an impulse to sit on his lap, his ass dangerously close to Michael's cock that immediately went hard.

"The centaur appears to be aiming an arrow towards the heart of the neighboring constellation of Scorpio"

He continued, the same smile on his lips knowing exactly the effect he was having on Michael. Supporting one hand on Michael's chest, exactly where his heart rested, Alex slid the other behind his back until he reached Michael's cock, touching it slowly making Michael moan and hold Alex's waist.

"... in Sumerian mythology, he is associated with Crotus, the satyr who was the nurse of the nine muses, daughters of Zeus, on Mount Helicon."

Alex lifted his body high enough to place the head of Michael's cock against his hole and went down just an inch on it, still wet and stretched from all the previous activity. They moaned without worrying about anyone hearing them in the middle of the desert and Michael sank his fingers against Alex's hips so hard that he didn't doubt that it would bruise. Alex rested his other hand against Michael's chest as well and stared at him as he lowered his body so slowly that it felt like torture - delicious torture - for both of them. When he reached the base, feeling the fullness of having Michael completely inside him, he rolled his hips gently, just enough to cause a loud groan in Michael that held him even tighter and pulled him closer against his dick. As if he was never deep enough.

And fuck, Alex agreed with him. It never seemed to be deep enough.

"The constellation has thirty-two stars ..." he murmured again as he started to move, slowly, smoothly.

"Alex ... fuck ..."

Lifting his own hips, trying to speed up the movements, Michael moaned as he tried to keep his eyes open so that he could look at Alex, refusing to lose the dazzling sight that boy was. Completely naked, with a line of sweat running down his neck until reach his navel even in the cold desert wind, his messy hair, his eyeliner a little smudged, his lips red and swollen from the kisses, and the way he was biting them right now. The movement in his waist as he rolled, using Michael's body, Michael's cock for his own pleasure.

Damn, if that wasn't the most beautiful sight in the entire universe, Michael didn't know what it was.

"Babe, please ..." he pleaded.

"The brightest star in Sagittarius is Kaus Australis ..."

He kept muttering with his voice cracking, and Michael couldn't understand how that could be so fucking sexy, but damn if it wasn't. Feeling Alex sunk in his cock taking him so deeply as he murmured about stars and constellations was by far the most sensual thing Michael had ever had in his life. And when he started to move faster and faster until he reached the rhythm where it was possible to hear the sound of his ass hitting Michael's thighs, they moaned wildly and Michael lifted his back until he sat down, his chest pressed against Alex's chest, his hands hugging his boyfriend's waist while Alex grabbed him by the shoulder, his other hand curling up in Michael's curls, pulling the hair on the back of his neck.

"... which is also the thirty-sixth brightest star in the sky ..."

He whispered against Michael's lips and it was the breaking point for both of them, their bodies convulsed and found the release they were looking for ...

"Stop ... just ... stop!"

Michael pleaded to himself tossing the bear far away angrily, then he propped his elbows against his knees, sinking his head between his hands. Those memories were the most precious things Michael had in his life, but they were also the most painful. Memories of a life he no longer had. Memories of a happiness which he was no longer allowed.

Of a body that he could no longer touch.

Of a mouth that he couldn't kiss anymore.

"Come back ... Lex ... please ..."

Sobbing, he pleaded, please, to any God who might exist, for Alex to return, to forgive him, to love him.

"... you are my brightest star, Michael."

#malex #malex fanfic #malex fic #malex angst #angst #stargazing #michael guerin #alex manes #roswellnm #constellations #English is not my native language #so please be kind with my mistakes

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ryttu3k · 4 years ago

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Had the Realisation that my oldest vampire character is literally only 41, so. Some actual older vampires! Below the cut - a thousand-year-old Banu Haqim nerd and a two-hundred-year-old Tzimisce who wants to be a cryptid.

Ezra ben Natan, 8th generation Banu Haqim (vizier caste)

Ezra was born in the tiny Jewish Quarter of Constantinople in 981, in a time where the Jewish population was beginning to come under pressure from both the Christian and Muslim communities. Within this instability, Ezra tried to keep up with the studies that fascinated them, eventually catching the eye of a visiting Banu Haqim vizier (a grandchilde of Tegyrius), who saw great potential for learning within the young Ezra. They were Embraced in 1006, initially refusing to return to Alamut with their sire in order to remain with their community. Eventually, their sire persuaded them to at least visit, and with some reluctance (albeit with the rapidly fraying stability of Michael the Patriarch as a fairly potent incentive to leave!), Ezra left their community in 1015.

They found they did actually fit in remarkably well in Alamut, meeting other Jewish Banu Haqim and embracing the Persian Jewish communities near the fortress, thriving amongst their fellow viziers and learning all they could, not only about the Banu Haqim but about the wider world amidst the Islamic Golden Age (while there were certainly Jewish-Islamic clashes outside of Alamut, within, they would largely consider themselves Banu Haqim first, Jewish or Muslim second). During their studies on the Baali Wars, they befriended many of the local Salubri, fascinated by their healing arts and admiring their political stance. They also became a follower of Derech Chaim, part of the Road of Heaven. When the Tremere began their persecution of the Salubri, they were appalled, and successfully petitioned for many of the local Salubri to be protected by groups of Banu Haqim warriors. This was not to last, although, for a time, they were still able to give some protection.

Following the violence of the Crusades and shortly after the condemnation of the Tremere blood curse after the Convention of Thorns and the Treaty of Tyre, Ezra, despairing at the state of their clan and the world, retreated into torpor for several centuries, eventually waking again in the early 19th century. Deciding to leave Alamut, they departed for London, a centre of great industry and change; there would be much to learn, especially everything they had missed over the past 300-odd years they had been in torpor for, and when they eventually paid a return visit to Alamut around the turn of the 20th century, they were granted the title of Distinguished Master (specialising in Jewish Banu Haqim history and with a secondary focus on the Baali Wars). They remained in England until the first World War, when they departed for the United States, settling in New York City, which was nominally Camarilla but never really siding one way or another with a specific sect and so making it relatively ideal for a member of an Independent clan to survive. Residing in Brooklyn, Ezra became the self-proclaimed protector of the Jewish community there, along with a handful of other Jewish Cainites from various clans, and were largely able to insulate them from the eventual Sabbat domination, the Battle of New York, and the Camarilla reclamation.

In modern nights, they have joined their great-grandsire Tegyrius and are nominally a part of the Camarilla (although they consider themself Jewish first, Banu Haqim second, Cainite third, and Camarilla fourth at best). Along with their studies of history and society, they have picked up an interest in technology and strive to keep up with it, and has also delighted in discovering the concept of being nonbinary, which has answered quite a few questions they've had regarding themself over the past millennium!

Personality: Studious and inquisitive, with a strong sense of duty and protection. A strong supporter of the concept of tikkun olam (lit. 'repair of the world'), which they interpret as a directive to protect and heal as much as possible, and they try to be compassionate in all they do. They do, however, have a dislike verging on hatred for the Tremere, not just for the injustices they've inflicted upon their own clan, but for their actions against the Salubri.

Disciplines: Auspex 5, Presence 3, Quietus (Minhit Dume/Hematus) 5, Obfuscate 4, Celerity 2. Possesses True Faith 1

Wish, 10th generation Tzimisce

Wish hails from Tennessee, born Louetta Patterson in the then-new town of Knoxville in 1804. Forever drawn to the Great Smoky Mountains, they spent a wild childhood roaming the forests and foothills, delighting in the freedom from being a girl, from being human, in the early nineteenth century. When their parents tried to reign in the borderline feral child by arranging a marriage between them and the older son of a neighbouring farmer (they were fifteen, he was in his late twenties), they ran, first to their beloved mountains, then further on, following the Appalachians all the way into Ohio, passing themself off as a boy named Louis. While trying to eke out a survival in Columbus, they had an encounter that would change - or rather end - their life, accepting an errand to deliver a parcel to a strange foreign gentleman, surprisingly late at night for visitors.

This gentleman was a Tzimisce, originally from Eastern Europe, now part of the growing Sabbat movement in America. Pleased by Wish's resourcefulness, independence, and curiosity, he offered them the opportunity to discover a newer, wilder facet to life, and Embraced them in 1822. This, frankly, suited Wish just fine, who had never really seen themself as much human anyway, and after a period of mentorship, they returned to the Great Smoky Mountains they so adored, changing their name to Wish proper (from the last syllable of ‘Louis’) and setting up their own little domain there. They wanted nothing to do with human wars and conflicts. They just wanted the mountains and the natural environment.

They didn't get many visitors. That was fine. They could pick up books and eventually records from Knoxville (carefully avoiding the presence of anyone they knew, or else using their new skill of Vicissitude to disguise themself), and eventually built up a largely underground haven in their beloved mountains. Originally satiating their thirst on animals and occasionally on humans during their odd trips to the city, the Appalachian Trail gave them not just a steady stream of hikers to take the odd slurp from, but also the attentions of arsonists and vandals, who... well, were generally not seen again. They also, quite regularly, feed on invasive boars, which compete with the native black bears; two birds (well, boars) with one stone!

In modern nights, they don't look much human any more, and there may be more than the usual number of cryptid sightings in their neck of the woods. They have, much to their dismay, been obligated to get involved with politics, and human politics, no less - learning how to send petitions and communicate with others online about the dangers of regional exploitation, to preserve the Appalachians they so love. More enjoyably, they've also taken correspondence courses on conservation, and are adept at using camera traps to record the wildlife of their domain, taking biodiversity surveys, and the like.

Personality: Introverted, generally pretty relaxed, happy for the odd visitor to show up so they can do the whole Hospitality thing but also, you know, very happy to send them away after three days. Doesn't see themself as human any more, and frankly hasn't since their mortal days; while some Tzimisce go for straight monstrosity, Wish prefers adding animal features, anything from a spectacular rack of antlers to shimmery cuttlefish chromatophores.

Considers themself a caretaker of the environment, and follows the Path of Harmony - the world is in constant flux, and the best way to adapt to it is to flux with it. Despite their Sabbat sire, pretty firmly Autarkis. Politics is for people more human than they are, frankly! Still speaks with a strong Tennessee drawl. Lover of music and words; if you happen to be in the mountains at night, hearing the sound of a record player or perhaps a fiddle, or spot someone lounging in a deck chair with a flashlight wedged in their antlers so they can read... yeah, probably them. Would much rather chill than argue; they get on well with the local Gangrel and even decently with the Fae and Garou, who recognise them as a part of the mountain community and not the larger Cainite society as a whole.

Fond of furries. They’re trying so hard, bless their li’l souls. Maybe they’d make good Tzimisce or Gangrel!

Disciplines: Auspex 4, Animalism 5 (has crow famalus named, uh, Crow because corvidae are smartasses and they respect that), Vicissitude 3, Potence 2 (very useful for, you know, catching invasive boars)

Posts that are straight-out Vibes: antlers, gender, music, that whole being nonbinary/neurodiverse/aspec and also enjoying nonhuman characters and themes while also not wanting to be a stereotype but at the same time the vibes are impeccable thing, a friend

#vampire the masquerade #banu haqim #tzimisce #my ocs #oc: ezra #oc: wish

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aion-rsa · 3 years ago

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The Many Saints of Newark Is a Trashy Gangster B-Movie, There’s Nothing Wrong with That

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When I first walked out of The Many Saints of Newark, my initial reaction was to call it a B-movie. What I didn’t say at the time, however, was how much I love B-movies. While I saw the flaws in the film and couldn’t wholly endorse it to cinemagoers spoiled by the perfection of The Godfather, Goodfellas, and New Jack City, I can wholeheartedly recommend it to people like me. Those who appreciate the low-budget gangster movies sometimes because of their warts. A majority of fans of The Sopranos will have the same reaction: Meh, The Many Saints of Newark could have been better. So when’s it playing next? I plan to see it again, more than once, on the big screen.

In one of the film’s quieter moments, the Soprano family is gathered around a TV set, watching the classic Key Largo (1948). The specific scene on the screen begins when Humphrey Bogart’s cynical combat veteran Frank McCloud defuses a tense situation with the gangster Johnny Rocco. Played by Edward G. Robinson, Rocco is very loosely based on Charles “Lucky” Luciano, the godfather of organized crime, who had been deported and barred from American soil. He is suffering the same doubts Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini) worries about in the pilot episode of The Sopranos: Are the best days of this “thing” over?

All gangsters want, as the black and white film explains, is more. Will they ever get enough? They never have. I don’t suppose they will. It is the same for gangster genre fans. We want more. And it doesn’t have to be great. “I don’t want it good. I want it Tuesday,” Jack Warner famously said about the gangster films his studio excelled in. Warner Bros. invented the gangster genre, and I felt a thrill when their name came first on the screen during The Many Saints of Newark. WB’s Key Largo is a prestige film. It’s got John Huston directing, he’d go on to make amazing mob movies, culminating with his magnificent Prizzi’s Honor. Key Largo boasts an A-list offering with top stars like Lauren Bacall, Claire Trevor, and Lionel Barrymore. And it’s a pairing of two legends who take their performances seriously, and believe in the art of acting: Bogart and Robinson.

But Bogart and Robinson made four B-movie gangster classics before they made the prestigious Key Largo: Bullets or Ballots, Kid Galahad, Brother Orchid, and The Amazing Dr. Clitterhouse, which was so badly scripted that the two leads took to calling it “The Amazing Dr. Clitoris.” I’ve seen it eight times. Are there holes in the story? Of course. And they don’t get any better after the third viewing. What does get better is watching the performances of two professional actors in films they are on record as saying they did not like. Twice, as it turns out, because it was revived as a radio play a few years later, according to the book Bogart, by A.M. Sperber and Eric Lax.

Robinson played a psychiatrist, studying Bogart’s gangster, and the two characters bond while keeping a wary distance. This is very similar to the dynamic between Tony Soprano and Dr. Melfi (Lorraine Bracco) on The Sopranos. She even worried the mob boss was using their therapeutic sessions in the furtherance of crime, something Bogart’s character did in the B-movie gangster film, King of the Underworld, which is awful and I never miss. I love that movie, not in spite of Bogie’s misunderstanding of the meaning of “the moronic type,” but because of it. He doesn’t do that in other movies, even in the masterful B-movie gangster comedies, It All Came True and All Through the Night.

But Bogart also made Dead End (1937), a quality piece, which happens to be my favorite film, ever. Based on the play by Sidney Kingsley, it spends a lot of its time in the same way The Many Saints of Newark does: teaching the young generation how to be gangsters. This is seen even more blatantly in the film Angels With Dirty Faces (1938), which paired James Cagney with the Dead End Kids. But threads of this even reach the juvenile delinquent movie Blackboard Jungle, also not a big-budget film, but realistic enough to show the teenagers were actually moving swag for bigger names.

It happens in real life, the mob looks to street gangs for promising young movers. Future dons make their bones wearing colors. Gangster films capture this. From Nino Brown (Wesley Snipes) in Mario Van Peebles’ New Jack City to Spike Lee’s Clockers, original gangstas groom carbon copies. Dickie Moltisanti (Alessandro Nivola) sees potential in young Tony Soprano (Michael Gandolfini) during The Many Saints of Newark. Great potential.

When Tony and his young gang hijack the Mr. Softee truck and give out ice cream to kids for free, it feels like The Sopranos creator and The Many Saints of Newark co-screenwriter, David Chase, was chasing the feel of the East Side Kids. Old Bowery Boys movies were aired weekly in the New York/New Jersey area when Tony was growing up, and all those movies were made by the icon of B-Movie studios, Monogram Pictures.

Monogram Pictures sat on Hollywood’s “poverty row,” and churned out pictures as fast as Detroit made cars. The Bowery Boys comedy troupe made almost a picture a month alone. But just like the Warner Brothers assembly line occasionally manufactured transcendent art, some of the cheapies are magnificently crafted. Sopranos fans should watch Angels in Disguise, one of the lesser-known gangster comedies, directed by Jean Yarbrough in 1949. It is, if not the first, one of the first mock-documentaries, and it is a good bet David Chase saw it, more than once. Leo Gorcey is even more of a master of the malaprop than Carmine Lupertazzi Jr. (Ray Abruzzo) on The Sopranos.

Monogram Pictures also caught the attention of French directors François Truffaut and Jean-Luc Godard, who structured films based on their model, according to the book The Films of Jean-Luc Godard by Wheeler W. Dixon. It is no wonder, the studio’s almost-no-budget 1947 quickie Dillinger turned RKO contract player Lawrence Tierney into an icon of film noir. The Fall Guy, from the same year, dared to coke up the star Leonard Penn, and we’re not talking soda pop.

Also in 1947, 20th Century Fox’s low budget Kiss of Death introduced the screen audiences to the sadistic Tommy Udo. The role earned Richard Widmark an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor, and the admiration of “Crazy” Joe Gallo, whose insurrection against the Five Families of New York crime was the basis for Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather.

Low budget studio production paved the way for the independent film movement in America, which The Many Saints of Newark proudly emulates. Director Alan Taylor recently admitted to Den of Geek that he’s “drunk deep at the well of Scorsese,” and we can see Mean Streets all over the Sopranos prequel. Also in evidence is Barry Shear’s Across 110th Street (1972), which pitted the Italian mob against Black gangsters; John Cassavetes’s 1976 indie classic, The Killing of a Chinese Bookie; The Pope of Greenwich Village (1984), directed by Stuart Rosenberg; and Abel Ferraro’s King of New York (1990).

The Many Saints of Newark is also too closely related to Wim Wenders’ 1977 gangster film, The American Friend, which cut corners on plot points as much as it did on budget. Logic is replaced by street smarts, and continuity is a game of three card monte in B-movie gangster films. The Many Saints of Newark is not exempt. There is a scene where one mobster’s mistress is sleeping with the rival for his turf. Except for one rude stare, the audience doesn’t see it coming. But how it turns out, with the convenient surf and turf to cover the evidence, is telegraphed from a mile away.

Movies

Once Upon a Time in America Is Every Bit as Great a Gangster Movie as The Godfather

By Tony Sokol

Culture

The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre in Real-Life and Pop Culture

By Tony Sokol

Arthur Penn’s genre-redefining Bonnie and Clyde came out in 1967, the same year as The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. Roger Corman spared every expense for his B-movie mobsterpiece. There are scenes where it is visibly apparent that a fleet of vintage background cars are just the same few automobiles driven in circles around the set. I’ve seen both movies multiple times, and enjoy them equally each time.

Just because The Many Saints of Newark isn’t a perfect film does not make it less of a classic. It certainly doesn’t make it less appealing for repeated viewings. The film follows a grand tradition of gangster filmmaking: street legal over mainstream currency, it could have fallen off the back of a truck. I would love to see whatever scenes were cut to make it fit into a two-hour viewing, because the film felt rushed. But I will watch it again.

The Many Saints of Newark premieres in theaters and on HBO Max on Friday, Oct. 1.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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