#the mindy project cast

[rainparadefromhell]

some ppl really get attached so fast while being given so little. just saw someone praising devi and des' relationship, it was a whole essay and i'm like he was in 2 or 3 episodes, what do you mean??? myb i'm the problem but i need a lot to be so involved and interested in characters (the only exception is if they have really strong/funny personalities) bc they had like 5 scenes together vs a whole history w ben and a long crush on paxton. what do you mean you like him so much??? you don't know that man!

[cebothelover]

[cellophaine]

i dont know if you listen to lana del rey but MATT MURDOCK AND SAD GIRL BY LANA DEL REY

i need a fic based on this like i have been listening to it non stop and i cant stop thinking on him so a matt murdock angst fic with fluff with a lil smut?

Sad Girl

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst, smut.

Author's Note: This fic is brought to you by delusion and denial. The song has a big influence, but I made a few tweaks. Italics are flashbacks.

To Anon: yes I do listen to Lana! Quite religiously 🫣 If you read through the fic names in my masterlist, you'll see some of Lana's song titles.

Share and feedback are welcomed!

GIF Credit

"Sooo … how's it going with the guy you're seeing?"

Over the rim of your cup, you cast your watchful eyes at your friend as you took a sip of your steamed drink. Mindy's inquisitive gaze bored into you, pawing and prodding at the film of protection you projected on the particular topic. You had expected her to ask about Matt since that was where you left off the last time you saw her three months ago, even though she was your closest friend. The way you left it wasn't positive in your friend's eyes, so this time, she was adamant about the two of you catching up. You couldn't hide from her anymore, even if you tried.

You bit into the side of your cheek before releasing it; your eyes briefly darted away from Mindy's face before answering.

"It's… good."

Mindy arched a brow at your drawn-out 'good', waiting patiently as she expected you to divulge.

"It's really good. Same old, you know?"

She nodded, her eyes slightly narrowed in a way that seldomly meant something good.

"Does that mean you're still stuck in the … grey area?"

You placed your drink down a little harsher than necessary, striking a sharp sound on the delicate saucer.

"I'm not 'stuck'. It's not even a grey area; it's black and white. I chose this."

She had struck a nerve, and you didn't want to admit that to yourself.

"So you chose to be in an ambiguous relationship with a man who doesn't seem to care that much about you? Who only hits you up when he needs someone to warm his bed?"

Your casual, friends-with-benefits relationship with Matt had gone on for well over eight months. At the very beginning, you both agreed on strictly no strings attached. He would come over, you would fuck, and at the end, he would leave. It started out as a once-in-a-while thing, then once a week, and now it had almost become a nightly basis. Your closet stored some of his comfy and formal clothes, your bathroom cabinet held his own hygiene items, and your pantry was stocked with his favourite teas. Matt had slept over so often that you felt like your place was his, too. Even your first aid kit got an upgrade as you equipped it with stuff you wouldn't need yourself so you could be more prepared for any injuries he might have. You knew Matt was Daredevil, knowing the danger he might face every night. It wasn't something he could hide from you. Not for as long as Matt tried to, anyway. After your discovery of Daredevil and Matt's acceptance of the fact that you knew, you started patching him up when his nights got rough, and he began to ask for your help more often. On those nights when his injuries weren't so grave, his fucking would get rougher as the extension of his waning wrath.

"No! You're wrong. It's not like that at all. He cares about me …."

You trailed off when the doubt crept in, making you unsure of yourself. Mindy caught on to your hesitation and gave you a concerned gaze. You couldn't help it, but you wanted to prove your friend wrong. After all, it only happened three weeks ago, and the memory was still fresh in your mind.

Your boss was in a particular mood that day. He scrapped the entirety of your careful research and made you go down the police station all the way in Brooklyn to obtain the paper documents yourself. You barely made it out of work and into a cab before eleven, slouching in the back seat as the toll of the day took over. Your feet ached from the heels, and your body was riddled with tension. You were so exhausted that once you came home, you headed straight for the shower to wash off the grime and sweat; the melody of your wind chime outside on the fire escape didn't even register in your ears. After the much-needed cleanse, you settled on the couch with greasy takeout and put on your show. You didn't even notice how the wind chime had gone quiet, turning into a gentle tune momentarily before three dull knocks on the window pane startled you.

Your attention turned to the window, recognizing the silhouette outside. You only realized then that you had forgotten to take the wind chime in – the form of communication you used to signal that you were waiting for him. The melody had almost become a permanent fixture on your fire escape. You hurried to the window and ushered Matt in.

"Sorry, I totally forgot that you were coming."

You felt guilty of your own forgetfulness for giving him a false signal, but a small part of you didn't. You wanted him to stay, but you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to. It felt like a violation of your agreement. And yet, you desperately did not want to be alone that night. All the turmoil in your head quickly evaporated as Matt closed the distance, discarding his mask before he reached you and pulled you in by your waist. He planted a hungry kiss on your lips, slowly smouldering to a lingering touch. You would be lying if you said his impatience didn't turn you on. You pulled away from him, feeling embarrassed when you remembered the chow mein you had, but Matt didn't seem to mind.

"What was that for?"

Your eyes drank in the messed up hair, the glossy unsighted eyes focused a lower point on your face, and the easy smile tugged at a corner of his plump, just-kissed lips. Everything added to the boyish charm you had come to love.

"It's been a while since I last saw you. I missed you."

His confession and the way he said it with a soft smirk made you melt. Matt wasn't one for sentimental statements, but when he was in the mood for it, he always knew how to make you weak in the knees. No matter how true the admission was, he knew you knew that this was no more than a casual arrangement. Crossing the boundaries was something of a figment.

"It's only been three days."

"I know. And I still missed you all the same."

He stepped even closer, slotting one leg between your open stance before slanting his lips over yours. You couldn't help but lean into the kiss and moan; your body arched into his embrace out of second nature. His soft lips found the pulse on your neck and sucked, marking the smooth skin there as if he deemed that it was missing his mark. His hands started pulling on your clothes, making your mind run wild with the possibilities of the night. But your muscles' cry for rest was louder. For the second time that night, you gingerly pulled away from his warm embrace, and the crestfallen look on his face once you had distanced yourself almost made you regret it.

"Is something wrong?"

He asked gently. None of the whining and all of the genuine concern. You sighed, running your hands over your face.

"It's not you. It's me. I had a pretty … shitty day at work, and I … I don't feel like doing this right now."

You quickly added.

"I hope that's okay."

His immediate response untied the knot in your belly.

"Of course it's okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You know that, right?"

You lowered your gaze to the ground; your voice was small and quiet.

"I do, I just don't want to disappoint you, that's all."

Matt placed a hand under your chin, lifting your face so you could look at him.

"You could never disappoint me, no matter what."

You clasped a hand around the wrist that was hovering over your collarbone. With all the courage you could muster, you begrudgingly gave voice to the inescapable outcome of the night.

"Well, I guess I'll… see you later?"

His brows furrowed as if you were speaking a language he didn't know.

"What do you mean? You're not getting rid of me that easily."

In a fell swoop, Matt picked you up. He walked to the couch, gently laid you down on the plush surface and told you to stay still. You watched with wide eyes as he disappeared into your bathroom. You heard the water running, then shutting off, and Matt appeared only to vanish into your bedroom. You peeked over the couch as you heard him rummaging around what sounded like your bedside table, helping himself to its content. Eventually, he left the bedroom with your body oil mist. You braced yourself on your elbows, apprehensive and confused, when Matt asked you to remove your sweats.

"I'm just going to give you a massage. No funny business, I promise."

He urged you to lay back as he carefully folded your clothes and put them on the armchair nearby. He loosened the knots in your muscles, kneading at your sore limbs. His hands worked with so much tenderness and patience, smoothing the oil over your skin, making sure you were relaxed and comfortable. You practically melted into the couch once he was done with you, feeling the tension had long ebbed away.

You sighed happily; the touch of appreciation sweetened your voice.

"Thank you for that."

"You don't have to thank me. I'm here for you."

Matt smiled fondly at you, which deepened the crinkles around his eyes. And then, there was a brief moment of hesitation, as if he didn't know if he should say what he wanted to say.

"Do you want me to leave?"

He finally asked, his voice soft. The question seemed so small, yet, it made your heart soar, sending a familiar serotonin rush through your veins.

"No. Stay with me, please."

Matt slid onto the couch with you, cuddling you from behind. The space was a little cramped, but you were grateful for it for the way his body pressed up against you underneath the cozy blanket. The two of you watched your favourite show together. Still, you didn't pay much attention to it as your mind tried to soak up as much of this feeling as possible until you fell asleep. When you woke the next morning, he wasn't there. Yet, something felt different now that you had a taste of what it was like to be on the other side of the thorned fence.

Despite the "developement", you still felt unsure. And Mindy could tell that.

"If he cared about you like that, why haven't you made it official? Is there something holding you back?"

You bit your lip, your head lowered as you still tether at the edge of acceptance of your situation after an even more recent event.

"Actually, yeah …"

You thought you knew him better than most people did, but maybe, it was you who knew the least of all. You thought about last week when you were tasked with writing a piece on the new up-and-coming law firm in the middle of Hell's Kitchen that took down Wilson Fisk.

It was all a coincidence, but you didn't mind getting to observe Matt on a professional level. The business plate on the wall outside looked new and polished, contrary to the inside. The building was a little dingy but functional. When Foggy Nelson welcomed you into the small office, the sight you saw was all but welcoming. The glass panes did nothing to conceal the view of Matt being awfully cozy with a gorgeous woman, who you knew was Karen Page. She straightened his tie, and Matt was saying something to her, his soft lips close to the crown of her head. Karen laughed at his words, and in return, an easy smile spread across his face. The intimate scene made you feel like you were intruding on the two of them just by looking in. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. It was no time for personal feelings and thoughts.

Still, the unpleasant feeling simmered and stayed with you throughout the interview until the very end. When the photographer showed up to take their photos for the newspaper, you bore witness to their intimacy once more. It was obvious to anyone that there was something between them, whether it was in the past or present. The way they held each other before your observant eyes manifested into something tangible that you could touch and couldn't compare. Their bond was something deeper than your relationship. That only aggravated your stubborn jealousy and how ashamed you felt afterward for feeling such fierce possessiveness over someone who wasn't even yours. He never was, never had been, and never would be. What you had was a casual agreement, and that was all to it. But you had to go ahead and fall for him.

The look on Mindy's face after you told her about Matt and Karen was one you knew too well. It was of pity, and you hated being on the receiving end.

"It sounds like he might have something going on with that woman. After all, you didn't agree to be mutually exclusive."

She took hold of your hand, giving it a squeeze as if to soften the blow she was about to deliver.

"I think you should reconsider your relationship. Being the other woman is not worth it, no matter how good in bed he is."

You couldn't stop the frown that formed on your lips, but you could control the trembling that almost broke in your lower lip. You jerked your hand away as if Mindy's touch seared you with shame. Your voice shook as your defensiveness raised itself around you.

"You don't know him like I do, okay? Stay out of it. I don't need your sage advice."

I don't need you to tell me how wrong I am. You wanted to say. You knew that already. Saying that out loud would mean admitting you were wrong about Matt, about the two of you, and about everything.

You grabbed your bag from the chair and walked out of the coffee shop, ignoring Mindy's calls. Your nose felt stung from the unshed tears, from the weight of your friend's words. You knew she only wanted good things for you, but she was wrong. She must be.

Even then, in your heart, you weren't so sure.

That night, you didn't think Matt would come. But you were thankful that he did. The moment you heard his familiar steps on the stairs, making his way up to you, you were already at the window, practically pulling Matt in once he reached you. You didn't even wait until he got even footing on the floor to kiss him senselessly, drawing a surprised gasp from him. He didn't seem to mind and quickly reciprocated. Moments later, your clothes were shed, letting your bare skin and laboured breaths fill the silence. Matt's hands ran all over your curves appreciatively, his lips tangled with yours fervently. He whispered on your lips when you parted to breathe.

"I missed you."

You heard that, Mindy? He said he missed me.

"I missed you too."

Your words drawled into a soft moan as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled slightly. His hand settled on your ass, urging you to jump into his arms like you always would, and you did. The proof of his need for you pressed against your stomach, hard and unyielding. Matt shifted you in his arms, and you used the movement to graze your slick core around his shaft. Your arousal smeared on his length, and you couldn't stop the gasp at the feeling of him so close to your entrance. Matt found your bedroom easily and fell onto the soft sheets with you. You scuttled back to make room, and he followed you. You held yourself up by your elbows; a shiver ran through your body as you watched him stroke his cock a few times before teasing your entrance. His tip touched your wet folds, dragging and spreading the slickness along the slit. He stimulated your clit with his velvet head, and you whimpered at how good it felt. As you parted your lips to tell him to stop teasing you, he plunged in without warning, and the complaint from your throat became a blissed moan.

Matt stopped for a moment after fully sheathed inside you, his face tilted towards yours, allowing you to drink in the pure euphoria on his face. His mouth was open-slacked, his brows curved up in an acute focus of relief, his unsighted eyes lost in the heaven you shared. You rocked your hip to meet his, only to be stopped with his hands on your waist, his hold tight, but not enough to leave bruises.

"If you keep moving like that, I won't last very long."

You nudged your heel against his ass, and your thighs squeezed his hips like an invitation.

"I don't care. I need you. Please."

Something shifted in him when you begged, and your prayer was answered with a withdrawal and hard thrust of his hips. You cried out, letting yourself fall back on the mattress and allowing Matt to pound into you. Each delicious thrust brought you closer to the edge, but you used all of your willpower to hold on. You wanted to finish with him. Matt's body covered yours as he nudged your head to rest on the crook of his arm. He caged you in, encompassing you in a cocoon that was him. His fingers wove into your hair, pulling the strands slightly to draw out your moans. His face hovered over yours, and with the barely-there distance, you felt like you were observing a piece of art reserved for your eyes only. Matt was all-consuming, demanding your attention and submission in every sense possible. All you saw was his beautiful face, all you heard was his lustful cries, and all you felt was his fullness inside you, stealing your breaths. You succumbed to him fully, worshipping him with everything that was attached to your mortal shell.

Your cries of pleasure intertwined with his created a beautiful melody of primal desires. Your hands clawed at his back, without a doubt making marks. Matt only groaned louder at the claim you made on his back, enjoying the pain you inflicted on him. As you neared your end, your core clenched hard, and his thrusts only got rougher at the tell-tale sign of your finish line. You could feel how close he was with the way his pace stuttered. You took hold of his chin, and Matt took a brief moment to kiss your thumb.

"Let go. I've got you."

You whispered breathlessly as his deep strokes made it hard to talk. Matt drew your thumb into his mouth and bit on it, but it did little to muffle his grunts of release. The feeling of him filling you up triggered your own orgasm as you came with him. The white-hot pleasure made you arch your back, making your pebbled nipples graze his broad chest. Matt's hand came down to grope at one breast, massaging and playing with your nipple, making you gasp, moan, and writhe at the sensation. He dipped his head to the hardened peak and soothed its ache with the warmth of his mouth as if to apologize for the lack of attention he paid. When you finally came down from the high, Matt whisked you into a breathless, lingering kiss as if he never wanted it to end. You happily reciprocated, and at that moment, it really felt like he might have feelings for you.

A little while later, after Matt had helped you settle in bed and fetched you some water, he slipped into the spot beside you, nudging your head to rest on his chest. His fingers caressed your arm, raising goosebumps on your skin. You played with the ridges of his abs; your blissful mind ran wild with all the possibilities and hypotheses. You felt something different tonight, just like that night when he cuddled you to sleep.

"Hey, I was wondering …."

He hummed in reply, waiting for you to continue.

"We've been doing this for a while, and I … I wonder if anything has changed."

His hand still kept a steady rhythm on your arm.

"What has changed?"

"Us. Our relationship."

Matt turned his face towards you, and your heart chipped a little at the confusion. He took a moment before answering you.

"We both agreed on being strictly casual. So … no, nothing has changed."

The crack on your heart turned into splinters that kept falling down like a flimsy house of cards, and you weren't fast enough to catch all the pieces. Of course, Mindy was right. You were such a fool. How could you hope for something different after all this time?

"Where was my memo on this thing?"

Matt chuckled softly, seeming to please with the little joke he made. Even though his body was warm, you only felt colder than ever. You slowly removed yourself from him as if Matt had grown thorns, and every movement hurt. Once you left the bed, Matt braced himself on one elbow, an easy, nonchalant, suggestive air about him.

"Are you freshening up for round two?"

You sighed heavily.

"No, I'm tired, and I would like to go to bed."

When Matt didn't say anything, you quickly added.

"Besides, I have to get up early tomorrow."

It was not exactly the truth, but a half-lie would do just fine. It seemed like Matt got the hint as he got up and searched for his scattered clothes on the floor. Once decent, he made his way to you at the window sill; his hand reached out to touch your elbow.

"Are we okay?"

He asked with a touch of hesitation. You huffed an indulgent chuckle.

"Yes. We're okay. I've had a long day, with a lot to think about."

You forced yourself to smile, even though he couldn't see it. It was more for you, so you wouldn't physically surrender to the turmoil inside. Matt kissed your cheek softly, and you did everything not to avoid his affection.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

He left your apartment with the promise, one that you wouldn't blame him for not keeping. You stayed up until the morning, and throughout the day, you allowed everything Mindy said to torment you, driving and twisting the knife further until your heart was a mangled, broken piece of decoration in your chest. And you knew you deserved every single cut. You weren't stupid; you knew that you were in the wrong. You were blinded by the possibility of Matt reciprocating your feelings that you were all too happy to be the other woman despite all the red lights. But the answer he gave you last night was definite. There was no future for the two of you that wouldn't end in a crash and burn.

That night, your fire escape was dead quiet for the first time in months. You were home; Matt could tell by the rhythm of your heart inside your cozy place. No matter how many times he called your name and knocked on your window, you wouldn't welcome him in like you usually would. Matt left the bundle of flowers he brought you at your fire escape that night. They would stay where they were as he felt them wither away every night until they ceased to exist.

*Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!*

[whenmemorydies]

Preliminary thoughts on The Bear, race, power and privilege

I’m a non-Black woman of colour who has spent all of my life in the west…so I’ve consumed a lot of television media that is produced by and for the white gaze. The most obvious way that gaze plays out is when people of colour are non-existent in a cast, or when they are included, are tokenistic, bit players.

A more insidious manifestation is where POC are cast to play parts that could just as easily be played by white folks: characters that have no interiority or external relationships related to their cultural identities, wider communities or individual or collective histories (for example, Mindy in The Mindy Project for most of its run, or the characters of colour in Season 1 of Bridgerton).

I've had some thoughts about how The Bear (thankfully) avoids tokenistic and "colour-blind" representation. I also have some thoughts about how the show models meaningful allyship. I'm so keen to discuss this with folks and hear what others think about it too.

Unambiguous and unapologetic

The Bear is confined in its universe, particularly in season 1 where it’s focus is tightly bound to the physical location of The Beef as the setting for almost every scene. Episodes of The Bear are generally not very long, so time is precious (every second really does count). These factors necessarily limit how deep we can get into each character. But the show is so good at drawing on different means of communication: images, lighting, score, soundtrack, phrasing, callbacks to previous episodes, other cultural references etc, that each episode is like a jewellery box with gems waiting to be unpacked and pored over. I've said that I have started reading this show like a tarot deck because of how rich the symbolism in each episode is.

So despite the constraints of time and setting, characters of colour in this show are also so very rich in their realisation and portrayal. These characters are unambiguously and - this is important - unapologetically racialised: through language (see: Tina’s use - and occasional weaponisation lmao - of Spanish), physical appearance (see: Sydney’s two-tone braids and her stunning, prolific collection of headscarves throughout the show), culturally distinct names (see: Sydney Adamu, Ebraheim, Tina Marrero, etc), food (see: Carmy’s peace offering to Syd in ep 1x03 of Ebra’s family chicken suqaar - a popular dish in the latter character’s birth country of Somalia), etc.

GIF by @chefkids

These may seem like small and inconsequential details to some. In fact I’ve been seeing a lot of commentary from folks online saying that what they like about The Bear is that race isn’t mentioned at all on the show. But make no mistake: race is all over this thing. The examples I've given are only some of the many references to racialised histories and cultures that build out the broader fabric of multicultural Chicago here.

What is not present in The Bear is a script that is wasting time explaining the characters of colour and their rich inner and outer lives to white folks. Those things are just a given and we are invited to witness them being brought to vivid life by this cast and crew. And I am fucking here for it.

Respect and allyship

Another thing I LOVE about this show is the respect given to, and the recognition of, the experience, talent, drive and ambition of its characters of colour.

This is most obvious in the relationship between Syd and Carmy who are signalled as complementary equals in many ways. Others have written on the importance of the representation embodied by Sydney’s character and you should search out that analyses, especially when its authored by Black women. The only other thing I’d say about it is that I love Sydney’s character and I also love endgame Sydcarmy (even if it’s only hinted at in the last second of the last frame of the last ever episode lmao…I will take whatever I can get of these two 😭).

I also see the show’s respect and recognition manifest in The Bear's investment in its staff, particularly in season 2. Everyone who worked at The Beef has a role at The Bear and Carmy, Syd and Nat fund the ongoing training and upskilling of their largely racialised staff to make sure this happens. Ebra and Tina are paid to attend culinary school (Carmy also gives Tina his prized knife for her studies and beyond). Marcus is sent to stage in Copenhagen to develop his skills as a patissier. And then we have The Bear itself - what started as Carmy and Michael’s vision, is now the whole team’s baby, with Sydney literally being made the captain of the ship by Carmy at the end of ep 2x09.

GIF by @savagegood

Part of what was so tragic about Carmy's fridge spiral at the end of season 2 was that he didn't get to see how beautifully the team came through in a crisis. Instead we had him internalising, regressing and lamenting how he had let everyone down. This language centred Carmy as the be all and end all of The Bear (saviour vibes) when this couldn't have been further from the truth (particularly in a season where the man spent so much of his time not in the restaurant but chasing manic pixie no-last-name-having Claire....but I digress).

Carmy is his best when he checks his ego, takes a step back and realises that he is not alone. He is part of a whole chosen family supporting one another at The Bear. And I get the sense that the folks creating this show know that we need more white folks using their power and privilege to step back and facilitate access, and less gatekeeping white saviours taking credit where its not due.

After all, and paraphrasing Viola Davis, the only thing that separates people of colour from anyone else, is opportunity.

12/04/24 Note: I’ve amended this post because I forgot to mention the most pivotal example of Sydney along with her relationship with Carmy. Also made some slight stylistic changes to phrasing cos i fixate on errors lol

[lxndrys]

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐞 (𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐞?) — 𝐞.𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> grief and trust don’t mix well. part one of three.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> blood, swearing, violence (weapons)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> ethan landry x carpenter!sister reader

ANY FILM BUFF would laugh at her - laugh at how she fell into classic trope of the horror movie survivors moving away to a different city, with delusional hopes of shedding her tragedy and scars.

But, realistically, what sane person could stay where half of her friends — boyfriend included — were either gutted or were the knife wielders themselves? And, the concrete jungle that is NYC wasn’t a stranger to greeting those with ghosts on their shoulders.

Her ghost? The bloodied and bruised shell of a once keen-eyed, ash-brown haired boy who adored her endlessly; killed by a psychotic fanboy who was nothing more than a whiny bitch when she slit his throat for what he had done to that boy of hers.

His (Dalton’s — her therapist said that part of acceptance was to still refer to him by his name, as opposed to some nameless wanderer in her memory) ghost was a companion through and through each day; he’d trace along her shoulder blades as a feathery reminder that he was still there, even as she left Woodsboro with the others.

NYC, once you peer beneath the facade of entertainment wannabes and elitist assholes, was a haven for ghosts of the past and their harbingers. But, anything was better than Woodsboro.

She only felt his ghost fading from its place in her conscious when she met Chad’s roommate; a meek boy with a tousle of brown curls, that didn’t look at her as if she would crumble at any second beneath the weight of the past. Perhaps it was her soul wanting to be relinquished of the crippling grief that had throttled it for nearly a year — maybe that’s why she trusted this boy, Ethan Landry, allowed him after that year to be in Dalton’s place as the doting boyfriend. Not a replacement, never, rather a step towards accepting Dalton’s permanent fate.

And, abruptly, Dalton was just another Woodsboro memory whether she chose it or not, residing amidst all the slashed youths in the small town.

Mindy, per her tendency to hand out cryptic forewarnings based on movie tropes, had told her how it never ended well for the main character who finds a new love interest after enduring tragedy — naming Sidney Prescott with emphasis in her example.

“Who are we to forget what happened to poor Sidney Prescott? Finds herself a new boy toy, and boom, he gets shot. Adore that woman and everything, but once death found her, it latched onto her and fucked up everyone else to make her miserable,” Mindy ranted, her rambles accompanied by the obnoxious crunch of a potato chip. Chewing, she gestured towards Y/N with a half bitten chip, “And, because you’re one of the main characters now in this franchise, you’re not immune to it. There will always be someone after us.”

Y/N decided her forewarning was more of a projection of her thorough dislike of Ethan, as opposed to a semblance of concern.

That’s why, now as she leaned against the doorframe alongside the subtly intoxicated Landry boy, she opted to disregard the squinted glare Mindy cast from the living room.

“Did she just come to this party to stare me down the whole night?” Ethan mused over the resounding bass that rattled the wood grain walls.

“She’s just cautious of newcomers, especially when they’re of the male species,” Tara laughed over the rim of her solo cup, a similar chuckle drifting from Y/N’s mouth a beat later.

“Don’t take it personally, dude. She’ll get over herself,” Chad shrugged, nudging slightly at Ethan’s side with his elbow.

“She might just have to wring you through the hazing process first, E,” Y/N smirked, bright tones of blue and white dynamically moving across the curve of her cheekbones as she smiled at him.

He begrudged an eye roll, the feigned annoyance betrayed by the smile that he reflected down to her. A belittling voice — his father’s — mockingly danced at the rear of his head at this thoughtless moment of adoration, disgusted that this girl was gradually consuming his senses. Ruining the plan.

It was fleeting, interrupted as Y/N’s hand fell upon his forearm, featherlight but enough to cast out the taunting whispers.

“Seriously, she is just quick to assume that everyone who enters our lives is out to slit our throats,” a half-hearted simper wandered across her lips, the gesture never quite reaching her eyes, “It’s nothing against you.”

Ethan hated — or at least acknowledged that he should be — at how an ember of sorrow coiled around the existent knot in his stomach, extending to the tension in his posture as he observed the sadness that festered as a glint in her gaze, as her mind wandered to the sorrows in her memories. The bravado of his father’s contempt for him meanwhile urged him to suppress every last ounce of sympathy he formed for the girl before him; torture him with the recollections of what her friends and perhaps even she had done to Richie.

No, some lovesick - perhaps even delusional - corner of his mind stifled the notion, she did nothing. Not her.

“But, can’t blame her for being so Fort Knox about who’s around us….especially after Dalton,” Chad more or less mumbled to himself, his own caution thrown to the wind by the flush of vodka in his system.

Y/N’s entire posture tensed with a hastiness compared to someone who’s fingertip was met with flame. Whilst this nonverbal response eluded the likes of a muddled Tara and Chad, it didn’t skirt past the attentive eyes of Ethan, whose brewing vendetta for the two teens increased ten fold.

The curly-haired boy seldom knew anything about Dalton; anything he was aware of came from media coverage about last years Woodsboro murders. A golden boy, track captain who died after running in between Y/N and one of the Ghostfaces, ultimately enduring the wrath of the blade meant for her.

“You really can’t handle your alcohol tonight,” Y/N only sighed in spite of the tension exuding from every vulnerability in her facade, “I’m, uh, actually gonna go get some air.”

Tara, with a frown that cast a discomforting tightness around her mouths, glanced at her sister with pity in her doe-eyes, “Y/N/N—”

“No, it’s fine. I kinda can’t stand being around a bunch of frat fucknuts in Ghostface masks, anyway,” the other girl was prompt to interject, sounding profoundly frustrated, something that bubbled painfully beneath a front of nonchalantness. She discarded her nearly empty cup to the adjacent side table, then hastily retrieved her dorm keys from her purse, “See you back at home, T.”

Tara’s mouth shifted as if to continue her actively failing effort to make Y/N stay, choose to ignore or even berate Chad for his loose tongue. Ultimately, however, she held onto reluctant silence as her friend quickly turned her back, agitation in her gait as she departed through the open front door. The younger Carpenter girl blinked away her concerned gaze from the distancing figure of Y/N, and to the Landry boy who spared no second before pursuing her into the October evening before she could.

—

SHE GAZED TIREDLY AT THE VAGUE STARS that simmered through NYC’s light pollution, having settled onto the curb a few houses down from fraternity house; the devastating combination of vodka’s numbing grasp and Dalton’s mention, throttling her sense of direction and desire to be alone.

With her side cradled against the lamppost’s slender pole, arms tucked in a cradle in her lap, her intoxication was bordered by an impression of forebode — as if the ghostly, sweetly bloody fingers of a boy who was failed, raced delves info her rigid shoulder blades. They were ambassadors from a misery far away from the comprehension of the sane, from her friends — Ethan — still in the house behind her.

For a fleeting moment, she screwed her eyes shut away from the flicker of streetlights, replaced by the distinct sense of being in Woodsboro; the blinding white fear of being chased like feeble prey through the corridors of Amber’s house…of being harshly pinned to the bathroom floor by Richie as he tinkered the honed tip of his blade in her Amber-inflicted wounds, only for Dalton to tackle his weight off her bloodied chest….of heaving in a crumpled mess on the floor as Richie brutalized Dalton….how she clawed her mangled self off the bathroom mat, grabbed the scissors from the marble counter and slit Richie’s own throat. How Sam assumed the responsibility of his murder so she would be spared the media scrutiny.

All memories that the acrid anodyne that is vodka couldn’t touch with its palliative influence.

Cramped fingers shakily reached to apply pressure to the wounds she could see within the dim light projecting from the hallway. Dalton subtly gasped through gritted teeth, his blood now painting her hands and her own wounds distanced in her mound of worries.

“Come on. The ambulance i-is on its way…Sam and Tara are w-waiting downstairs,” Y/N urged through the agony that trembled through her frame as she attempted to propel him off the tiled floor. He quickly thwarted her limp effort by bracing his hand against her forearm.

“I think I just…I think I just need a second, Y/N/N,” he almost panted through his clenched teeth.

Glancing up in his flurry of pain, he could see her with horror petrified amidst the lacerations and tears on her face, it being no different than the feeling devouring his chest as she begrudgingly nodded at his words.

“Y/N!”

The pale hand that sought to extend through the hopeless, burdensome gloom of Death retreated at the presence of Ethan’s voice.

Her eyes dubiously opened to allow reality to resume, Ethan’s lanky frame bounding into her periphery. A low oomph split from his lips as he dropped himself entirely onto the vacant side alongside her on the curb, their knees fleetingly touching in his maneuver.

“You didn’t have to leave the party,” she mumbled, an exhausted gesture towards the residence that still thrived with drunken twenty-something’s and questionable music.

“And what kind of boyfriend would that make me?” the corner of his mouth faltered with a half-hearted quirk, observing as her head bowed, chin coming to a lean against her chest as she toyed with the hem of her costume.

Stress stretched a horizon beneath her ragged eyes as they shifted tiredly towards him, murmuring of a vague appreciation, and his reluctant hand reached forward to ease away the flyaways that dropped away from her updo.

“Do you want to talk about it?” a previously stifled morbid curiosity fell through the cracks in his caution….a question perhaps his father or sister would have fashioned into this conversation. His discomfort with the fumbling in his thoughts prompted a quick amendment, nervous hand snapping away, “You don’t have to or anything though, just wanted —”

An intense stare then bridged between their eyes as his agitated hands eased into a heap on his lap.

“I know,” her chest deflated with waning misery, her response subtly slurred amidst the breathy alleviation, as the fabric of her costume was dampened by a few lithe tears.

Y/N sucked in her cheeks, the teary glint in her subtly bloodshot eyes betraying her on every front, her bottom lip now gradually quivering as she looked down. A burrowing ache washed over her like the long laggard waves on a beach, the ache clashing with the alcoholic temptation to just lay everything out, reveal to Ethan just how fucked up she is even if he could already see it.

“But this night is miserable enough,” was her ultimate decision as she dryly chuckled. Mindful of her costume, she steadied her knees against her chest, leaning her cheek against her kneecap.

The moonlight cast a grayish, silver lining onto her features as she peered towards him with a lopsided smile encouraged by the alcohol in her system.

That deranged whisper of macabre desire wilted beneath the smile she cast towards him, vanishing into a recess of his mind where everything that could ruin this — her — resided.

And that’s was how it was most days; a thrashing tug-of-war between the instilled desires of his family and those of a boy who adored a girl he could never be worthy of.

“I should probably get home before Sam finds out where I am…and throws away the key after locking me in my room,” she exhaled with exasperation, shifting herself to the curb’s concave edge to stand up. The movement up from the curb was ultimately cumbersome, telling of the dregs of alcohol that stirred in her system still.

Stifling the bitterness that cooled in his veins at the mention of his brother’s assumed killer, Ethan reflected her movements as to ease her subtle swaying by settling his hands on her biceps.

“Whoa, whoa, you good?” he murmured, breath fanning over the rouge and silver tears on her cheekbones.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” a dampened smile accompanied the slurred facet of her voice, hand clasped around his wrist that relaxed against her shoulder.

Beyond his own control, crimson flushed against the collar of his homemade knight costume — adequate conversation was always an embarrassing shortfall of his, a flaw his father prided on deriding him about.

“You don’t have to answer,” Y/N teasingly rolled her eyes, a light nudge spared to his arm upon regarding the scramble for a response within his chestnut eyes. Her hand then rose to brush away at his tousled hair beneath his costume’s headpiece, “Walk me home?”

He nodded, the gesture nearly too earnest, “Always.”

And he tried not to engross himself in the thoughts of about having to see Quinn. About how every inch of his moral being fell nauseated at the notion of abiding to their family’s plan for retribution. About how he wanted to keep Y/N as far away from them.

[evilcentral]

jselenfriend: How do you even begin to say goodbye to a show you've dreamed of working on since you were a little kid?

I've dreamt of playing with monsters since I was maybe 6 or 7 years old and for the last 5 years, 50 episodes, over 50 different creatures, ghosts, demons and creeps, through pandemics and through strikes, from the pilot to the series finale; -EViL- has made that a tangible amazing reality.

It's been everything I have ever wanted and hoped for in my career and shy of landing a job on some Star Wars project, its likely to top that list in perpetuity.

Working with Joel Harlow and his incredible team at Morphology has taught me more than I could have ever imagined. My experience on this show has opened up so many new opportunities designing my own shows with titles that I never would have concieved of handling prior to the knowledge I gained here.

There are far, far too many names to thank after all this time but: Joel, Milagros, Mindy, Rachel, Emily, Gil, Rob, Dan, Brian and Sam are at the immediate forefront on the work front. Holly, Amber, Zoey and Aaron have handled the bulk of the emotional support. Our amazing core cast of Katja, Mike, Aasif and Michael who have all had to endure one prosthetic or another, while Marti, Ashley and Fedor have endured just a wee bit more.

And of course and most importantly, endless thanks to Robert and Michelle King and Paramount for making this all happen!

Final season premiere on May 23rd but in the meanwhile here's a few favorite BTS moments from seasons 1-3

[lol-jackles]

https://deadline.com/2024/05/the-cw-renewal-decision-all-american-walker-1235918928/

Thoughts on this and what it means for Walker? I thought Walker wasn't expensive, now they're claiming that it is? Or do they just mean its expensive relative to the reality crap they've brought in?

Also I hate that they are so, "we're in no rush!" with renewals. That makes fans distrustful and is tough for the cast and crew who are contracted to the show and don't know if they should be looking for new work or if they have another season lined up.

Walker isn't expensive, but it isn't owned by CW and Brad is trying to appear to be negotiating from the place of strength with the "we're in no rush!" line. Remember when Brooklyn 99 and The Mindy Project was cancelled by Fox despite good ratings and then uncancelled by NBC? Because Fox didn't own the two shows, NBC studios did. So Brooklyn 99 ended up on NBC for three more seasons and The Mindy Project continued on Hulu because NBC had a content sharing deal with it. Networks don't reap profits from syndication and distribution license fees. But today its 'the wild west’ of streaming, Brad is trying to get their own streaming packaging deals.

Nextar, as usual, is playing hardball during contract re-negotiations, like what they with Verizon FIOS that resulted a week of blackout.  It's a game of chicken and when most shows’ ratings actually increased during the blackout, Verizon FIOS pretty much had no choice but to acquiesce to Nexstar’s demands.  

[floppersblooderakamonsterinamoik]

My Singing Monsters: Dawn of Fire, DreamWorks' movie is coming back after cancellation (NOT CONFIRMED)

DreamWorks apologizes Sony Animation for the movie, Sony Animation disabled the cancellation for honorable & ridiculous reasons.

-DreamWorks & Big Blue Bubble cast confirm-

Mindy Kaling as PomPom

Elizabeth Maxwell as Barrb

Craig Robinson as Mammott

Bruno Mars as Furcorn

David Grohl as Congle

James E. Jones as Entbrat

Emma Stone as Kayna

Ken Jeong as Pango

Dwayne Johnson as Flowah

Chris Pratt as PongPing

-My Singing Monsters: The Movie first movie cast confirm-

Mindy Kaling as PomPom

Craig Robinson as Mammott

Bruno Mars as Furcorn

Emma Stone as Kayna

David Ghorl as Congle

James E. Jones as Entbrat

Ken Jeong as Pango

Lil Nas X as Wubbox

Alan Walker as Rare Wubbox

Chris Pratt as Jellbilly

-Cancellation and rejection-

The reason, why DreamWorks made the movie for having fun.

The reason is: ridiculous artifacts, Ridiculous Artifacts is the reason, that movies are not verified for the reason.

-Release date and story-

One year ago, My Singing Monsters: Dawn of Fire was cancelled for ridiculous artifact reason by Sony Animation, just like Monkeys of Mumbai or B.O.O: Bureau of Otherworldly Operations. One year later, DreamWorks is working for the movie called: Ruby Gillman Teenage Kranken.

A few months later, DreamWorks apologizes Sony Animation, to let the project go. Sony Animation lets the project uncancelled, DreamWorks finally gives thanks to Sony Animation as well.

For the schedule, My Singing Monsters: Dawn of Fire should be released in 2025 or 2027 as well.

-

"have a good day, monsterinamoik"

[atrashbearthattrashes]

Setup and Payoff

Dear Rookie writers: <clenches fist, looks out longingly onto a field of continuity> Look. I get it. You had to execute the ship. You were moved to an earlier time slot, so less risqué content. You tonally shifted to a comedy. Covid fucked your timeline, etc etc etc. FINE. I give you all of that.

But for the love of all that is good and holy can you PLEASE WRITE NORMAL FUCKING STORYLINES THAT MAKE SENSE.

Screenwriting is simple. Setup. Payoff. Like, for example:

— setup: show actively sets up friend ribbing friend about a coworker crush/romance. The PAYOFF would be said friend loses their shit when the coworkers actually get together (examples: Boyle in B99, Jacob in Abbott Elementary, Michael Scott in the Office, Schmidt for Nick and Jess in New Girl).

— setup: show actively sets up consequences to office / coworkers finding out about secret romance. PAYOFF: actual work consequences happen (ie, Ben and Lesley break up in parks and rec).

— setup: characters CONFESS THEIR FEELINGS to OTHER CHARACTERS in an ensemble cast so that the audience knows there are actual emotional stakes. PAYOFF: we get emotional insights and CLEAR emotional STAKES. (Ie, B99, Parks & Rec, New Girl, The Mindy Project).

— setup: you have two characters who want to be together but can’t due to [insert obstacles]. Unresolved tension continues to rise until characters can be together. (Ie, Castle, X Files, Alias, ER, Buffy, Once Upon a Time).

Every single move the Rookie has made this year has deflated each setup like a fucking pin in a balloon. — Lopez ribs Bradford about Lucy and in the end neither supposed bff brings up the romance again, save Lopez over some dumb radio message? (And we never get some confessional from Lucy to Nyla or anyone about how she pined for Tim in UC school, and all we get is some throwaway “*That* Bradford” one-liner?)

— Season One of Talia warning Lucy re: Nolan so they break up, to Seasons 2-4 of Lucy being a subordinate to Tim so nothing can happen, to Grey warning them about office romances, and in the end, we get ZERO reactions from any characters that they’re together and ZERO consequences to the relationship other than some mild Post-It wrangling?

— The unresolved tension that starts off with a bang in S1, ratchets up in S2 and complicates itself S3 and S4, never ACTUALLY gets addressed by Tim or Lucy confessing their actual feelings to each other? Just suddenly “if we do this” to “our kids will be xyz” in a few episodes?

I JUST DONT GET IT. I DONT UNDERSTAND setting up a storyline that could be SO FULL of juicy confessions, angst, longing, pining and just maybe ONE LITTLE SEXY SCENE FFS only to turn it into the MOST bland and milquetoast ship. I KNOW these characters can do hot and sassy and argumentative because we’ve seen it. They can definitely to angsty. But this whole we’re-going-to-dial -down-every-emotional-payoff-to-a-mild-5….like….to what end, writers? TO WHAT END?

[kabillieu]

Daylight savings time cast a spell on us, and we all used the extra hour to sleep in. It's 7:11 (so 8:11), and the baby's still not up. He also took a four and a half hour nap yesterday. We woke him up because I started to get spooked about how long he was napping.

Tomorrow's my surgery. I'm going to look and feel like I got in a car accident, and I won't be very mobile for a few days. We stocked the house with easy freezer meals. Today we'll do our weekly cleaning. I'm trying really hard to finish grading a batch of papers so that next week I don't have to worry about them.

I made a chicken ragu with ricotta last night that was really good, and today I'm making a pot roast. There are leftover donuts. The weather has been nice. I've been watching The Mindy Project for the first time, and it's a really solid 22-minute sitcom with a million episodes per season, which I really appreciate. All good things.

[canary-prince]

I watched the first two episodes of "Velma" and tbh, my disappointment is largely my own fault. I'm the twit who thought Mindy Ka/ling could produce something I'd actually enjoy.

See, this is why it irritates me when normies label themselves as "untameable freaks" and "edgy outsiders" when the reality is that they're NORMIES. Because they end up making things that they THINK are edgy and cool and funny and really "pushing the envelope" and "speaking to a new demographic"...but they end up making "Velma" instead.

The idea that Velma goddamn Dinkley would use "Grey's Anatomy" as the object to swear herself into court? Normie behavior. The idea that we are introduced to Velma by seeing her assault another girl with A METAL PIPE after SPYING ON HER CLASSMATES IN THE SHOWER and she's still cast as the "unfairly picked on outsider"? Normie behavior. Turning the other members of the gang into delinquent, pathetic, or outright malicious twits who have no interest in mysteries and exist only to make Velma look cooler or more important? The worst sort of normie behavior.

Kaling has turned Velma Dinkley into her bitter, whining self-insert and uses the entire show to tell the world "I had a crappy time in high school because I was a jerk to everyone around me but my classmates should have understood that I DESERVED to be shitty to them because I'm a very special girl".

Kaling's entire attitude has always been pretty insufferable to me, but this is honestly a new low. I can tell she has no love for the actual property and is either smugly trying to "fix it" or confused her lonely 9 year old self's projection onto Velma with actual canon.

I hope it gets better, but after the first 2, I'm far from impressed

[avatar-news]

Utkarsh Ambudkar has been cast as King Bumi of Omashu in the live-action Avatar: The Last Airbender series!

Filming of Season 1 has already wrapped and he has already finished filming his scenes for Season 1.

Utkarsh Ambudkar is best known for his roles in the Pitch Perfect series, The Mindy Project, the 2021 movie Free Guy, and Never Have I Ever (Netflix), Ghosts (CBS), and The Dropout (Hulu).

King Bumi is the same chronological age as Aang: 112 years old! So obviously, Utkarsh will be aged up for the physically demanding role, as Bumi has the spry physique and fighting skills of a much younger man. Can’t wait to see the transformation!

Fun fact: the etymology of the name Bumi is the ancient Sanskrit word “bhumi”, meaning earth!

(Casting source: Knight Edge Media)

[sheisraging]

tagged by @winderlylandchime​ and @provenance​ (thank yous!)

last song — honestly not sure, cause it would have been when I was driving on Tuesday 

last show — I’ve been re-watching The Mindy Project on Netflix, which I haven’t done since it ended originally. Sad about the way they ruined Danny’s character. :( But I love everyone else. 

last movie — The Menu, which is great and everyone should watch it. 

currently watching — Belle, which, admittedly, I only just recently heard about because of Sam Reid, but which has a great cast and is so far very good. 

currently reading — Sigh. The Tale of the Body Thief by Anne Rice.

current obsession — I am pretty sure everyone knows that it’s AMC’s Interview with the Vampire. 

no pressure tagging a few people: @spookylestat @bilestat @stereomike @ineffablylestat @bartbarthelme @headbandsandflats @kaaaaaaarf @thefairylights

[lboogie1906]

Jussie Smollett (born June 21, 1982) is an actor and singer. He began his career as a child actor, acting in films including The Mighty Ducks and Rob Reiner’s North. He portrayed musician Jamal Lyon in the drama series Empire, a role that was hailed as groundbreaking for its positive depiction of a Gay African American man on television. He has appeared in Ridley Scott’s science fiction film Alien: Covenant as Ricks and in Marshall as Langston Hughes.

He was born in Santa Rosa, California to Joel and Janet (née Harris) Smollett. He has three brothers and two sisters, several of whom are actors. The family moved to Queens when he was two years old and to Los Angeles when he was about seven. When he was 19, Smollett told his parents he was gay.

He began his acting career as a child model in New York City and worked as an extra on the New York-shot movies Mo’ Better Blues (1990) and New Jack City (1991). He went on to act in the films The Mighty Ducks (1992) and Rob Reiner’s North (1994). He starred alongside his five real-life siblings in On Our Own (1994–95). In 2012, he returned to acting in the leading role of The Skinny. He released an EP titled The Poisoned Hearts Club. He guest-starred on The Mindy Project (2012) and Revenge (2014).

He was cast as Jamal Lyon—a Gay musician struggling to gain the approval of his father Lucious in Empire. His role was hailed as “groundbreaking” for its positive depiction of an African American Gay man on television. He reprised his role in subsequent seasons and directed an episode of the fourth season. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[typingtess]

Tiptoeing through the guest cast of “Glory of the Sea”

The press release mentions Deeks helping his Mom find an apartment but Pamela Reed is not in the guest cast.  In the “Flesh & Blood” press release, not only was Reed listed in the guest cast, the sub-headline of the press release mentioned her return.

Duncan Campbell as NCIS Special Agent Castor Returns from “Of Value” in mid-October.

John O'Hurley as Navy Rear Admiral Ted Gordon Longtime working actor in dramas, comedies, animated series, soap operas and as a game show host.  

Was Robert McSwain in Over the Top, J. Peterman in Seinfeld and Christopher Neff on Devious Maids.  Was the sixth host of The Family Feud, hosted the revival of To Tell The Truth in 2000 and currently hosts the National Dog Show on NBC every year on Thanksgiving,  

Soap opera roles include Greg Bennett in General Hospital, Greg Schaeffer in The Edge of Night, Keith Lane in Loving, Dr. James Grainger in The Young and the Restless, Stephen Slade in Santa Barbara, Allen Cooper in Valley of the Dolls and Kit Sterling on All My Children.

Guest starred in dramas including Heartbeat, Nurses, Dark Justice, Silk Stalkings, Baywatch, Sisters, Murder She Wrote, Baywatch Nights, The X-Files, Diagnosis Murder, Hercules, Ghost Coup, Sunset Beach, For Your Love, The Mullets, Come to Papa, Quintuplets, The Mentalist and Gravity Falls.

Comedy guest roles include appearances in Frasier, PigSty, Platypus Man, A Whole New Ballgame, Living Single, Ned and Stacey, Coach, Weird Science, Mad About You, Boy Meets World, The John Larroquette Show, Life with Roger, Lost on Earth, Men Behaving Badly, Damon, Ellen, The Weber Show, Son of the Beach, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Style & Substance,  Josh & Drake, Hope & Faith, The Wizards of Waverly Place and Retired at 35.

Bryan Lillis as Jessie Fiore Lillis guest starred in episodes of The Suite Life on Deck, State of Georgia, Big Time Rush, Modern Family, Fam, 9-1-1 and Shining Vale.

Audrey Wasilewski as Meredith Huxley Voices characters in many animated projects.

Was Gwen Sheridan in Push, Anita Olson Respola in Mad Men and Pam Martin in Big Love.  Played Shirley Wilkes in the “Season No Evil” season two premiere of NCIS.

Guest starred in episodes of George & Leo, Total Security, Saved by the Bell:  The New Class, Sunset Beach, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, It’s Like You Know, Party of Five (2000), Ally McBeal, FreakyLinks, Charmed (2001), Even Stevens, Diagnosis Murder, State of Grace, The Nightmare Room, Providence, General Hospital, VIP, The Agency, For the People, 7the Heaven, ER, The West Wing, Columbo (2003), Friends, Tremors, Wonderfalls, Two and a Half Men, Without a Trace, Cold Case, Gilmore Girls, Inconceivable, Strong Medicine, Boston Legal, General Hospital: Night Shift, Pushing Daisies, Eli Stone, Private Practice, Monk, Bones, Saving Grace, 10 Things I Hate About You, Grey’s Anatomy, Outsourced, Last Man Standing, Southland, Hart of Dixie, Scandal, The Mindy Project, Shameless, Stalker, Justified, The Night Shift, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Criminal Minds, 9-1-1, Homecoming, Good Girls, Young Sheldon and Love Victor.

Charles Kohut as Jim Bones Was in episodes of Driven and Forbidden. Hanging with Chris O’Donnell and LL Cool J.

Brent McGregor as Long John Was Kurt Kaster in Friday Night Lights.  Had guest roles in My Own Worst Enemy, The Middle, We are Men and Shameless.  Was Rodney Romano in the season 10 “Detour” episode of NCIS.

Tre Hall as Marcus Moore Hall guest starred in episodes of Rebel, Ten Days in the Valley, Bosch, Lethal Weapon, Dear White People, Criminal Minds, The Rookie, Black Monday and was Carl Hammond in the “All Hands” season 19 episode of NCIS. Hall on set with his co-stars Caleb Castille and Daniela Ruah.

Written by:  Faythallegra Claude wrote season 13’s “Perception”.

Directed by:  Terence Nightingall directed "Expiration Date", "Old Tricks", "Warrior of Peace", "The Sound of Silence", “A Bloody Brilliant Plan” (which he co-wrote) and “Divided We Fall”.

[thechanelmuse]

That little ass comment box and it’s limits on the length I can type is driving me nuts. Let’s do this on a clean post 🙃.

@khalif-horton

I don’t know Yvette Carnell like that; I only know of her looking for a gold sticker for whatever she’s doing/done and being a leader of an organization. I’m not in search of a leader. I’m firm on lineage-based federal and state reparations for Black Americans (preferably federal before states), an Anti-Black Hate Crime bill and data disaggregation. Lineage-based because our ancestors built the United States through forced chattel labor that others immigrated to, and you can’t do anything to benefit one race (so they say 🙃) because it violates the 14th amendment.

Data disaggregation makes things clearer in wealth disparity amongst other things, but also for anyone having that strange identity crisis as to who they truly are simply because they were born in the United States. This is why lineage matters. I can’t be me while they’re being me and them simultaneously. Hence the student union example. Disaggregation should’ve been done, but wasn’t as another layered undermining tactic. Heavy state and federal penalties needs to be attached with falsifying to simply garner whatever benefits and resources. You also won’t have shit like the likes of Rachel Dolezal and Mindy Kaling’s brother sliding through.

Racially Black people are different ethnic groups with distinct histories, cultures and the ancestral lands where our ancestors were ultimately rooted. We’ll prob disagree on that. You’re a Pan-African and I am not. 

Reparations is not for racism. It’s a debt owed. But I also want genocide and theft in there which links to Jim Crow and it’s governmental sanctions, the bombing and torch of our businesses and towns that were kept desolate or turned into lakes, 15 million acres of land—including farmland and heirs property—stolen down to 1 million acres left, etc. People be out here passing around videos of Black Americans being exterminated by the slave patrol police like white people used to do with those postcards of lynching barbecues. It’s genocide. (It’s not lost on me it happens to other racially Black people who look like us.) 

Black Americans make up 50% of the homeless in our country, including our vets and those on Skid Row. Our median wealth is projected to be 0 by 2053. We have to advocate for us. Ain’t nobody coming to save us. People are just onlooking. Ain’t no UN coming despite us checking off every box per their definition of genocide:

Killing members of the group; 

Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group; 

Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part; 

Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group; [black maternal mortality]

Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group. [that child trafficking CPS that remove a child for any reason they choose and ASFA]

So, you don’t support a particular form of reparations, but you’ve been involved in reparations work for 2 years? What does that even mean?

CARICOM has their own reparations plan going to get what’s owed from that damn Queen and other countries that played a part in the enslavement and labor of their ancestors. The African Union has their own thing going for the Scramble for Africa. Black Americans will not survive without reparations and the country won’t survive without us. The government knows it. It’s spite. People know. So what do you support specifically as redress for Black Americans?

SN: What I mean by “racially” Black - We know race doesn’t exist, but is a caste here which people who immigrate or are born here via immigrants are funneled into by choice or not. Opposed to “Black” as an ethnicity, which some Black Americans still use like an ethnic group.  

And about that celebrate part you mentioned in your other comment. I’m doing it for the ancestors. Ancestors like Callie Guy House and Isaiah Dickerson been leading the way, like when they started The National Ex-Slave Mutual Relief Bounty and Pension Association in 1894. People like them were waking up other ancestors to be firm in knowing they were owed. A lot of Black Americans today have awakened while others are continuing to wake up. So I celebrate for the ancestors even if it’s small strides leading to bigger ones.