#they just wanted some famous names to help sell the film; when that kind of thing in this day in age

[ryololart]

After the War

Summary: Evanegline teaching at Quantico years after the ending of MWIII

Warnings: Mentions of gore and slight sexual topics if you squint real hard.

Notes: I wrote eight pages on a google doc in two hours because I have barely written anything in months.

I hate teaching. I always have, always will. All the eyes on me in the room like vultures staring from overhead, just waiting for a scrap of meat to fall out my mouth in hope for enrichment. Don’t these kids know I can’t help them?

Price told me this would be good for me. To get out of the house, out of the garage, back in front of people. I wish he knew who was wrong. I was meant to sit there for the rest of my days and sell fixed up cars on Facebook marketplace. Letting my uniform and metals get dusty in the closet. However, according to him, that won’t do. When I left to get on a plane to fly out to Virginia I had to set my profile on hiatus and the messages that flooded my inbox all were in a panic. Where are you going? Sell this to me before you leave? How much for the Rav? I’ll give you 1,000 pound and come get it if you sell me it before you go. My buyers need me, not some snooty rich Quantico recruits. 

These kids need a teacher and I’m barely half a person. Laswell, a friend of his from the C.I.A. apparently personally asked me to come. According to her, my experience in the field and my grit would shape these recruits up. The class itself was about anti-terrorism and who better at the head of it other than one of the two remaining survivors of SAS Team-141. The most famous anti-terrorist team to ever exist says the internet. They make me wear a badge on my jacket with my affiliations and having the skull, wings, and daggers sitting right on my shoulder surely has brought enough unwanted attention in the two days I have been here.  So many gasps and sighs, enough to think this was a porn film. 

All the students are in their uniforms, here at Quantico they are forced to wear black trousers and a tan blazer. They tried to fit me for one, but I waved them off. I told them I wear military pants and a sweatshirt and  nothing more or nothing less. This wasn’t to be different, but I do not need to abide by these standards when I am the one doing a favor here. A boy sits in the front, a few crooked teeth, jet black hair that has been gelled back, and a nasty look in his eyes. His notebook and papers still sit in his bag, unwilling to bring them out until he sees it is fit.  A few rows back and to the right sits a girl with short ginger hair, freckles framing her cheeks, and bright blue eyes. A pen is poised in her hand and she looks at me with almost an alarm in her eyes. These are two kinds of people in this world, those who are passer-byers, ones that are willing to find their way when it comes to them, and those who are willing to grit their teeth and crawl on their hands and knees to get what they want. I found that I have been both of those people and the difference between them is something finite. 

“Hello,” I stand in front of the desk that has been pushed to the front of the room. “My name is Captain Evangeline Thomas, please do not call me that, just Captain or Thomas is fine. I will be clear now, I was asked to teach as a favor to a dear friend of mine. I do not know how I can be of most use to you so please, tell me as we go.” I lean back against my desk, the clinking of the braces on my leg makes me shudder, even so many years later.

“You are really, The Evangeline Thomas? The one on SAS Team-141, the sergeant master?” The ginger girl says out into the open air of the classroom. I can feel the words hit me like glass, clawing its way down my throat and restricting it, closing and pulling shut. I have to cough for fear that the oxygen will soon run out. 

“Yes, I was. I, however, do not hold that title anymore,” So much for introductions. “Why don’t we go around the room and just say our names and ranks. If I am going to teach you I wanna know your names.”

It takes five minutes for the class of twenty to go around and say those basic things. A few stumble on their words or have to ask what we are doing and I nearly throw the yard stick at the front of the class at them. The kid in the front row’s name is Connell, and the girl’s name is Diana. I don’t know why these two kids stick in my head, maybe it is the way she is chewing her gum so aggressively or the way he keeps his stare at the floor. 

“Right so, Laswell wanted me to give a few lectures on anti-terrorism. However, I have never been the academic type. So, how about I give you a few stories and we dissect them,” I move to the board, the short distance between the desk and chalkboard makes me have to plan my steps carefully. “We want to know three things when it comes to cases like this. What is the act of terrorism? How do we stop it? How do we prevent it from happening again?” The chalk skates across the dark green and I forgot how my writing looks like chicken scratch. 

“You know just how to make it look like it could be readable but when you get a good glance it goes right back to scribbles.” His voice echoes in my head like it always does and suddenly the ring on my finger starts to itch again. 

“What happened to your legs dude?” A voice breaks out as I finish the last question mark. His eyes find mine and I notice they are almost orangey-brown, like the dirt in morocco. His notebook has moved from his bag to his desk but it remains under open. The question itself does not surprise me, that is something everyone asks. Over the years I have found silly ways to answer, since technically, it is classified. I told Price’s daughter when she was old enough to ask if it was a bear attack and that I won. Ethan and Lukas were told that I was working on a plane and it blew up in front of me. I suck in a breath before answering, almost being able to taste the gunpowder and blood on my tongue again. Smell the charred flesh and feel the  bits of plastic melting into my skin. Acknowledge it.. Let it flow down the stream. I give a small smile before responding. 

“I got caught by a pack of C4 under a table on a mission to track down the worst Russian-terrorist in history,” I write down Operation Kingfish. “Our first mission we are looking at Operation Kingfish. Does anyone have any clue what this is or is too classified and buried underneath the books.”

A boy in the back of the class raises his hand, he has thick black glasses, shaggy brown hair, and his blazer isn’t buttoned and creased on every inch. “I have been working on cleaning the database of missions, specifically on anti-terrorism. Operation Kingfish was the mission where Team-141 thought they knew where Vladimir Makarov was hiding out.”

“Good,” I wrote Makarov, “What is your name kid?”

“Tyler.”

“Know anything else?” I ask.

“The date was October 8th, 2013, otherwise no.” He says, I hear the slight lisp on his th’s.

“Ight, pay attention cause I ain’t telling this story twice,” I pull the chair from behind that desk that squeaks in protest across the room right in front of the first row. “Take notes if you want, I ain’t assigning no work or nothing. I have no stake in your education, so what you get from this class is up to you. What I am about to say is heavy so don’t be wussing, you hear me?” 

I begin the story and swallow all the resentment for myself. This moment is surrounded by black tar that bubbles and threatens to pull me down head under. I haven’t spoken of this moment since I wrote the report so many years ago, but Cindy, Price’s therapist of a wife, tells me it's good to talk about it. That I have to, or else the tar will drown me. This entire memory feels like a snake bite, it hurts fast and quick and then the ache sets in. 

“As our darling Diana told us at the beginning of the class, I was the sergeant master of the team, meaning for those who aren’t military here, I was the main technician. However, I didn’t just work on our equipment or vehicles. When we had missions like this that were high-stakes, trying to capture the literal head terrorist of our war, all of us were on deck. I also was in the office when we planned it. General Shepard hadn’t betrayed us yet and he would frequently ask me as one of the only American’s on the team for my thoughts on the plan. I would suggest different weapons or carriers. This mission took place in the Karkonosze mountains, located in Ukraine. The elevation and where the base was located needed a specific plane to fly overhead.  Specter 6-4, an AC-130 Gunship is the reason the boys and I got out of these that day. There was not enough cover even with a Delta sniper. He told me he wanted me on the ground if I wasn’t flying the plane. So there I was in combat after a while of being over watch or comms. It was I, Captain John Price, Sergeant John MacTavish who we called Soap. Lieutenant Simon Riley called Ghost, and my boy sergeant Gary Sanderson AKA Roach. Sandman and Frost, two other members of the Delta team, were back up waiting for us. This would be the first of the battles with Makarov himself and changed the course of history.”

I stop and look out into the room, I had gained all the eyes on me at this point. I said the names of the most famous soldiers in the world as if they were nothing. Price, Soap, Roach, Sandman, Frost, and Ghost. Soldiers who were beloved and regarded as heroes. All of them died, other than Price and I. However, Connell’s notebook still sat closed.

“What was your name in the field, Captain?” A girl from the second row asks me. She reminds me of someone I knew and I have to blink before I speak again. She had tanned skin and long black hair braided into a bun. Moles cover her face and arms like constellations and if I didn’t recall her name as Mary I would have called her Liana, my best friend growing up from home. Liana is dead and so is Marcus, her brother. 

“It was Tex,” I narrowed my eyes. “I was called an EMT as a joke when I worked at my first base in southern Texas. When I moved to England and joined the team they renamed me Tex for Texas. Soap said EMT was stupid and I never corrected him.” 

I can hear Soap’s brittle voice with his stupid accent say my name. “Evan, you let them call you EMT? That’s crazy bonnie, you are surely too tough for that. We’ll call you Texas from now on, Tex really.” His laugh was contagious and for someone I had only known for a few hours, he made me laugh harder than anyone before. 

“Tex, I like it.” A warm hand brushes a hair out of my face as I stand before him in the cover of the front door. Even if we are standing before our house, the moment itself: with his hand on my cheek and me on my tiptoes, stealing a kiss from his lips made me feel something I had never felt before. Home. 

I shake my head and continue, the memory fading just as quickly as it came over. “The day couldn’t have been planned better, the weather, the timing, everything. According to reports we had gathered for months, Makarov had been hiding there. God, when we got there ourselves his shit was everywhere. As you can tell where this was going he wasn’t actually there and the entire mission was a bust, yet we did get something out of it. Intel and a folder, all information he had forgotten that kept his trail alive. This is where we knew his real plans for the war, not just the ones that were clear with the start of WW3. No, nothing would prepare me for seeing the knife on the wall holding a picture of my team and X’s threw the faces we had lost. To this day I can tell you every member of that team, how they died, where they died, when they died, and who I had to send their dog tags back to. He had planned to kill every single one of us with detailed notes on who we were. My folder had information about myself I didn’t even know. My fucking deadbeat father’s middle name was on that shit. In anti-terrorism, a lot of the time they wipe our traces clear. No record of our existence. No birth certificate, social security numbers, ID’s, god even my pilot’s license. Everything is highly classified and protected or down right removed. This corner is tricky business as any information on you will be used against you, and most of the time those people are dangerous to a new level. These aren’t your typical war criminals. These are seasoned killers, cyber-hackers, and experts in weapons you couldn’t name in your dizziest daydreams. The room where this information was, was deep in the base. It took going down so many hallways and rooms, we were tired and the fear was heightened. Scepter 6-4 was raining down bomb after bomb and after so many flashbangs my head was pounding. We all were not right when we got in that room and saw the record of our friends' deaths being tracked, no one was looking out for a pack of c4 under a table. Price called the bomb too late. I had always had bad hearing and should have never been in the field. I worked on planes and different kinds of loud machinery that damaged my hearing and I could never have  heard the beeping of the timer. If he hadn’t called it, I would not be standing here. I managed to push off my feet towards the door but it was too late. The damage was done.” 

I stopped and noticed that everything was silent. In the first part of the story, people were whispering quietly or tapping their pens. Now, everything has ceased. Not a single person made a sound. I sigh and slip the coffee from my bag out and take a sip. I found that coffee was better than Adderall, the high of caffeine was smoother than a straight stimulant. Cindy made me go clean, and said I would never meet Thalia if I didn’t. Price and her kid is my entire world and I couldn’t imagine not being in it. So, I quit the drugs and became a babysitter. A weird turn of events for sure. My man always told me he wanted to make me a mom someday and  I told him if he ever fucks me and we aren’t on some form of birth control, I’d chop his small British dick off. He never brought it up again. 

“So, the gorey details now. My legs almost got blown clear off. The initial explosion shattered my left leg and the right leg collapsed under pressure from the right one not standing up well. I won’t go into everything as it even makes me uncomfortable.” Even talking about it, remembering the white flash of pain, makes the nauseous come back. “They say breaking your femur is the worst pain, and as someone who broke two, I can confirm. Soap hit his noggin pretty hard but otherwise I took the brunt of the hit. Luckily for me, 141 was my family, literally. One of the members was my husband and the rest were basically my blood brothers. Even when I couldn’t recognize their faces because every bit of sense I had was being overclocked by pain, Gary carried me out so that the rest of the team could shoot our way through the lines of soldiers coming to finish the job. If he hadn’t carried me out, I would have died on that floor, still moaning from the pain, unable to even conceptualize a scream.” 

In that second I can’t bring myself to continue. Seeing their faces in my mind, Johnny, Gary, Simon, makes the world around me swirl. Nothing can stop the grief from filling my body. It is as the atoms that make me up decided they can’t bond anymore and want to separate. Pulling me in all different directions, slumping me to the floor. The familiar feeling of pain overrides my public embarrassment to be in this class. These stories shouldn’t be told in a classroom, no, they should be shared around friends and family at a bar table. Remembering those who brought us here, that makes this world livable. Everyday I wake up and I see their photo framed on my nightstand. I say good morning to them, each one by name, and I start my day. These were real people, ones I loved, and they should not be examined by those who will analyze every move they made. They should be cherished by the ones who knew them, for everything they did right.

“Thank you.” Connell says, the words catching me off balance. His notebook is open now, and my story is jotted down in simple lines, but only the ones that detailed a circled name at the top. Roach. The anger that was in his eyes is now plain admiration. Not for me, for those I tell in my words. Then I know why I know his eyes, they are the same as Gary’s. I knew him, he was the little boy who received Gary’s burnt dog tags. I look at the name tag on his blazer which was perfectly ironed and set, Connell Sanderson. 

“I don’t personally remember the rest of the story,” Feel it and let it pass, the sweet voice sings in my head. “The record says that in the attempt to escape with Delta right with us, due to our gunship being shot down, Price stayed behind to make sure we got to the evac helicopter. His sacrifice let me keep what was left of my legs. He was in a Russian Gulag for three years until we rescued him, even though we thought he was Makarov. He was asserted K.I.A. the day we lost him and I remember waking up in my hospital bed and seeing my best friend and my husband crying together for him. Those boys don’t even cry when they lose a finger, no, but the loss of our Captain brought them to hiccupping sobs. The moral of this story is that being a part of this, takes everything from you. Your identity, your friends and family, your life. Personal honor does not justify any of this, most joined not out of pride, but out of duty. I joined the military to pay for my brothers’ educations and to get out of the hell that is the border of Mexico and Texas. I stayed in the military because I saw what I had to lose and I joined in the fight to protect it. I lost so much, but you find meaning again. That is the nature of us humans. Simon Riley and Gary Sanderson were lost in 2016 when General Shepherd betrayed us. Simon was my husband and Gary was one of the men I was closest with. He was Simon’s best man at our wedding and often stayed with us when we had breaks since he didn’t have a house in England.  I lost John MacTavish only months later to Makarov himself, he was my best friend. He stayed with me when Simon got deployed without me and taught me every drinking game I know. Only John Price and I remain for the team of over twenty. What I leave you with today, is know what you are walking into as we go over these cases. They only get worse from here, this is just one of hundreds of missions I was on. Next class we look at the beginning of the end, be ready.” 

I leave the class still sitting in these seats and an email in my inbox. 

SAS. OUTLOOK.GOV

From: Kate.Laswell@CIA.GOV To: Evangeline.Thomas@SAS.GOV  Subject: Regarding Class

Thomas, I don’t know what you said, or what you did. I don’t care, don't tell me, just show up everyday for the rest of the semester and I’ll make sure I send you a huge check and an Edible Arrangement from The Commissioner himself.  Better yet sign on for two semesters and I will get you a house in DC. Keep up the good work Captain. Signed,

Kate

Kate Lawsell, Station Chief Case Officer, CIA

[thebranchesofshe]

Warren Hart

"I don't believe people should be celebrated for doing the bare minimum. I saw a way to make myself useful, so I did it. There's a reason they don't make plaques for people like me, and it's because we have no use for them."

Three words: devoted, cautious, determined.

Name: Warren Michael Hart

Age as of Chapter I: 44

Date of birth: July 24, 1926

Height: 5'8"

Gender: fella.

Orientation: straight but loves Myra in a bisexual way if that makes sense.

Occupation: librarian.

Veteran?: yes.

Which war?: World War II.

What did he do?: he was an 18 year old cook on a Navy ship in the pacific. It was boring as shit.

Did he enlist or was he drafted?: he enlisted. You know. Like a dumbass.

Favorite book: The Death of Music Darby by Myra Mooney, and Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs.

Favorite movie: Easy Rider.

Favorite treat?: he's an apple pie and black coffee guy.

Who are his friends?: he has a lot of acquaintances. Associates. Comrades. Myra is his best friend. He gets along well with Dr. Breyer, Homer Smoot, and Dahlia Tiller. There will be more.

Anybody he doesn't get along with?: he can think of nothing good to say about Forrest and Cynthia Kline.

Background: Born in Baltimore, Maryland. Raised catholic. Only child of older parents. Mother died in a mental hospital. Ran off to New York with his friend, Rowan, a folk singer who hit it big. Wanted to become a detective so he could help people. Realized too late that you have to spend several years as a cop and lose whatever goodness you had inside you. Tried unsuccessfully to swim against the grain. Spent a long time thinking he was the 'one good one' and realized he was selling his soul. Quit the force. Tried the Private Investigator thing for a while. Didn't work out.

What brought him to Decaelo?: Rowan disappeared. He went to find her. Police wouldn't waste resources on a junkie, even a famous one. Her car was found near the town. Warren went after her.

Why did he stay?: vacancy at the library. Figured he would make himself useful. Eventually became the librarian. Also, he met Myra. That, and he can't shake the feeling there's something here he's missing. He has been here since 1963.

Is he religious?: he is an avowed atheist. He used to be kind of a dick about it until he realized he was behaving like a religious nutjob.

What is he... politically?: why do you ask?

It's almost like he runs the town: he considers himself a socialist. And he doesn't run the town. He's just the guy everybody goes to when they have a problem.

So... not the mayor or the sheriff, but-: yes. The librarian.

Does he like books?: he likes free knowledge, but his taste runs very postmodern. He's a big Burroughs fan. If it's weird as shit, he's into it.

Anything surprising about him?: the librarian is actually a huge film buff. Before you ask, his favorite movie is Easy Rider.

What is he afraid of?: a lot of things. Growing close to people, losing them... Also fatherhood.

What does he look like?: average height if not a little short. Slender but scrappy white guy with brown hair and a hangdog face. He's like if a bog mummy or a chainsaw sculpture was a noir detective. Truthfully, I sort of based him on Harry Dean Stanton and the sort of role I wish he could have played at some point.

Anything else?: he's sort of the audience surrogate. He's arguably the most normal person in Decaelo.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Prehysteria! (1993)

Do you ever feel like going back and revisiting that one obscure movie you saw as a kid that no one else has ever heard of but you know for sure exists? I distinctly remember seeing Prehysteria! as a child. Well, at least one of the three movies. All I remembered were those awesome miniature dinosaurs. I couldn’t recall ANYTHING about the plot… and there’s a reason for that.

Slimy museum curator Rico Sarno (Stephen Lee) returns from an expedition in South America with five mysterious eggs. When he accidentally swaps coolers with Frank Taylor (Brett Cullen), the widowed raisin farmer and his kids - Monica (Samantha Mills) and Jerry (Austin O’Brien) - discover that their dog is now the proud mother of 5 miniature - but fully-grown - dinosaurs!

The film is basically a mix of Gremlins and Jurassic Park but without any edge and only the blandest of human characters to keep the plot moving. I’m sorry, 6-year-old Adam, but this movie is bad. It isn’t devoid of merit, but it's sub-par entertainment, even for kids.

The best - and really, only redeeming - element of Prehysteria! is the dinosaurs. Even then, a lot more could’ve been done with them. Jerry and Monica’s new pets - Tyrannosaurus Elvis, Brachiosaurus Paula, Stegosaurus Jagger, Chasmosaurus Hammer and Geosternbergia Madonna - are pretty neat in a few ways. Of course, there had to be a t-rex and I wouldn't consider a stegosaurus an obscure species of dinosaur, but the rest are fairly unique, which will please amateur archeologists plenty. The creatures are brought to life with terrific puppetry and stop-motion effects. Considering the film’s low-budget (which shows whenever the use of a green-screen is required), the pint-sized thunder-lizards look great. If only the beasts were given any personality. At the end of the day, it hardly feels like you get to know them at all. It's a shame because the humans who adopt them? They’re complete throwaways who hardly convey the genuine sense of wonder you’d expect from meeting actual dinosaurs, miniature or not.

The unique animals are thrown in a plot that’s so generic it’s hard to care. Rico Sarno is a one-dimensional greedy… museum curator? Huh? The only ones stupider than him are the two goons he hires to help him steal the dinos: Ritchie (Stuart Fratkin) and Louis (Tony Longo). They’re so dumb even a kid could tell the peril in this film is non-existent. The kids are a bit better, I guess, but they’re just typical “younger brother who doesn’t like his older sister” type. The dad is another kind of enigma. He sells fossils to the museum - an opportunity to make doe eyes at Vicki (Colleen Morris), who works at the museum’s desk - but has no interest in dinosaurs whatsoever. It just feels weird. How does he even know what he’s digging up if he has no interest in archeology? I guess we can talk about her too. It’s no spoiler that she ends up on the Taylors’ side against meanie Mr. Sarno when she learns he wants to exploit the dinosaurs for money. As soon as you learn Frank is widowed, you know that means they’ll end up romantically involved. There are no surprises at all and the conclusion is so hurried some of it doesn’t make sense.

You might wonder if I’m upset at a “treasured memory” getting debunked. I’m not. I had a good time with the movie back then and I had a bit of fun with this rewatch… if only because it made me appreciate how much my taste has evolved. I think the funniest thing about Prehysteria! is that while all of the dinosaurs are named after famous musicians, only Elvis contributes to the soundtrack. Even then, it might’ve been an imitator. This movie does not have the budget for Madonna, not by a long shot. All it had was the money to make the dinosaurs look good. That's not enough. (September 25, 2022)

[project1939]

(Dick Powell on the left as Richard Diamond, Private Detective, Ernie Kovacs on the right.)

Day 35- TV and Radio: 

TV: 

Ernie Kovacs Unlimited, May 25th, 1952. 

Westinghouse Studio One, season 4, episode 37, “Abraham Lincoln,” May 26th, 1952. 

I Love Lucy, season 1, episode 33, “Lucy’s Schedule,” May 26th, 1952. 

Radio: 

Richard Diamond, Private Detective, “Eddie Garrett Case,” May 16th, 1952. 

The Whistler, “Charming Hostess,” May 25th, 1952. 

Westinghouse Studio One was an entertaining episode about Abraham Lincoln. When the credits came on at the end, though, I was shocked- James Dean played the role of a young soldier who was pardoned! He had a few lines, but the kinescope quality made it difficult to see clearly. He also had a brief background role with one line in Sailor Beware, so he must have just been finding the smallest success in film in 1952. Betty Furness was selling the refrigerator, the electric oven range, and the open-handled iron. 

Richard Diamond, Private Detective is a pretty fun show. Diamond is a carefree guy, and he’ll usually sing a song in every episode. It's not a comedy, but he’s kind of like a light-hearted singing detective. In this episode Diamond met with a famous gangster who was just about to be executed. The gangster was worried about his kid brother following in his footsteps, and he asked Diamond to help straighten him out. In the process, Diamond gets caught up in a crime himself. 

Erine Kovacs was so interesting and unique! Unfortunately, only 18 minutes is available of his 45-minute show from May 1952, but I wanted to get at least some idea of what it was like. I think it was a morning show or daytime show on CBS, and the style is a mix of conversational stuff and skits. The first segment was a hilarious spoof of What’s My Line? that had everything down to the panel, the chalkboard the guests sign in on, little card flipping thing used to show increasing prize money... it was even “sponsored” by a misting deodorant like Stopette called Foop! The guest that came on (Kovacs in disguise) was named Harwood Boxcar, and he wore an engineer’s cap and overalls, and carried a red lantern and a flag! He said he was fired from his last job because he “was railroaded,” and he referred to his bosses as coaches. He also said Lionel Barrymore was his favorite actor! The panel acted totally stumped, but the last woman guessed, “Are you a concert pianist?” And she was right! The second section had him reading and acting out Little Red Riding Hood in 90% French. Then he showed an election information booklet you could send away to CBS for. His comedy was very unusual and outside the box. It reminded me of some edgier comedy of the time, like Olsen and Johnson, where they were more comfortable with letting time linger and confusing the audience. I loved it.  

...And now a word from today’s best sponsor: Westinghouse’s open-handled iron! Are you frustrated that you just cannot iron inside a pocket? How many job interviews has your husband lost because his pocket was wrinkly inside? Do you have to hide your face in PTA meetings? Well, no more! Westinghouse has designed an open handled iron that can get inside the biggest deepest pockets! It’s easier on your wrist and hand, and the best part is, you won’t need big pockets to afford it! (See what we did there?) 

[neganium]

You know I really feel like the movie is at least going to look really good. The designs we’ve seen thus far are mostly faithful, with a bit of new flair. We even got the fuckin’ penguins, for crying out loud.

If only that voice didn’t sully the entire experience... he’s gonna be so obnoxious to listen to, oh my god...

[let-this-ship-sink-already]

Followers Mean Money and Exposure

From the words of Jennifer Aniston who recently stated that casting is made now by followers on social media than talent. Ever wonder why Zendaya was pushed to the front for Dune? Why she was pushed as the star of a Spider-Man movie when literally no one sees those movies for Mary Jane Watson? And now why she was recently tagged by the uncharted film poster when she was not even in the film at all? It is all down to her follower count on social media. Right now, the industry is banking on that for good turn out at the box office. While it may help, the implosion of Space Jam should be a warning sign that it does not equal box office success. Spider-Man was actually a good film, as was Dune. They would have been hits without pushing her to the front. I think when they crunch the numbers, they will see that. But the reopening of the theaters put producers in a panic. And her team saw an opportunity. Trust me when I say that this showmance made a lot of money, not just attention. It tied her to the public interest because it gave a story to sell to the press to keep her in the public eye and elevate her so she can use that exposure to try and get high profile parts in more serious films. That is why she was seen cozying up to big named producers and directors who have a long history of Oscar bait films. She wants that nomination or a win. Despite her lack of talent, never underestimate what a good promo team can do. And a nomination is prestige she can carry with her through her career. This is her end goal. So when you see Tom doing his passive aggressive stuff in photos and why she is driving this, just remember why. This is a long term plan being engaged. The problem is she is limited in her talent, and she is boring as hell. They wanted to be seen like the next big celebrity couple, but when has Zendaya the person ever generated that level of interest? Her photos get attention on social media, but her personality? Not much because she as a person is boring. She is not smart, she is not funny on her own, and she is not insightful. She has always relied on the promo game and is very good at it. To get to the level she wants, she needs more. Some of those actors who get nominated are themselves not very famous, but they are interesting, make good choices, and got lucky. Not to say she can’t get it, but I am predicting a Gwyneth Paltrow kind of career for her, but with less talent. This showmance will end when it no longer serves them both. I predict he will want to bolt first though.

***

Good to see you back! ♥️

[peaktotheocean]

post-production

Pairing: Jaskier/Geralt ao3 link here Notes: If you ever watched the Lord of the Rings behind-the-scene discs and thought “I wish there was a 12K Witcher AU where Jaskier is the famous actor who buys a horse for Geralt the horse trainer” then you’re in luck

Jaskier knew that he would miss the stable the most. After weeks of filming on location, surrounded by crew and actors that Valdo had already poisoned against him, the stable had become a respite of sorts.

No matter the smells (the many, many smells), Jaskier would always remember the sun beams shining through the high windows and illuminating the dust and dirt to shine on the horses. Jaskier had tried and failed many times to capture the moment on his phone— to the point where he was convinced that it was impossible. He would just have to burn the sight into his memory.

Jaskier had just one more day in this stable and on set and then he could sort of what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

Certainly not acting.

Five blockbusters in four years and Jaskier's exhaustion knew no bounds. Not to mention people he thought were his friends just clinging to him for a ride.

He had meant for his career to be music and yet here he was on what he considered the wrong marquees.

Taking a small acting job offered by a friend in order to help pay rent had escalated into a full career and never worrying about rent again.

But then there was Valdo.

Jaskier had only started hearing about the rumors during the second week of the shoot. And by, then it had been too late. Valdo's charisma and charm took hold and Jaskier wasn't to be trusted. Was he a thief? A gossip? A drunk? A backstabber? It depended on which rumor went around that morning.

"Last day, darling."

"What?" The horsemaster's gruff tone was shorter than usual today.

"Sorry. I was--" Jaskier broke off. He didn't want to say it aloud. Which was silly because he had seen Geralt speaking to his own horse, Roach many mornings. Not to mention afternoons and evenings and any other time they were shooting scenes and Geralt was brought on set to stay with the horses. "I was just telling Pegasus that it's our last day with the horses. Or my last day, I suppose."

"Hmm."

Jaskier already missed the grunts. It was unclear if Geralt disliked him because of Valdo's rumors. But truthfully, the horsemaster hadn't seemed to have taken a shine to anyone over the course of shooting.  

Well, not any humans, at least.

He doted on all the horses. Roach in particular, and Jaskier couldn't blame him. She was a sweet mare and if Jaskier hadn't been assigned his darling Pegasus, he would have liked a chance to ride Roach as well.

But of course not. She was Geralt's favorite and Valdo's mount.

Not that the actor cared. The animals were more like props than living beings to him. Jaskier didn't like thinking about the amount of times he had seen Valdo curl his lip at Roach.

Just Jaskier's luck.

He had beaten out Valdo for a role which he hadn’t even known the man had wanted. And in return, Jaskier’s last few months had been lonely and uncomfortable and—

He set his forehead against Pegasus’s neck and took a breath to steady himself.

He could still feel Geralt’s presence. Lifting his head back up, he smiled at the man who showed no emotion in return. At least Jaskier knew that Geralt didn't like anyone else on the set either. In a strange way, it helped. Geralt was a part of his respite in the stables just by being impartial to the rest of the gossip of the set.

"Not the last day overall, of course. But I checked and I know we're moving on to another area for the next month or so. Granted, I guess you'll still be here if they want to do re-shoots, right? Can't go through the trouble of training so many horses over again."

Geralt had apparently decided that Jaskier wasn't even worth of his grunts anymore. As if Jaskier was the one who came out early to the stables to interrupt him and not vice-versa. Still, the actor had to admit that the quiet of the stable comforted him regardless. No one gossiping. No Valdo. Just him and Pegasus.

And Geralt, he supposed.

And Roach.

And the other horses.

Well, Jaskier supposed no moment was truly perfect.

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

Jaskier let his fingers run over the intricate chainmail of one of the many costumes from the film. Percival and his artistic team had done such excellent work. It was a shame that most of it would be auctioned off but with any luck, some would go into a production vault or even a perhaps a museum exhibit for film costumes. While Jaskier enjoyed the way his costume felt on him, purchasing it wasn't a priority for him.

“Percival!" He called when he saw the crewman in question. "This is for the auction, right? Do you know when it's actually happening?”

Jaskier hated how nervous he felt. He knew the horses were up on the auction block and he had a plan. Pegasus was the only good part of this filming and Jaskier didn't want to leave him behind. “For the horses,” Jaskier clarified.

“You interested?”

“Very.” Feeling much like the office was his primary school classroom, Jaskier stood up straight and put on his best serious face. “I’ve got the space and a neighbor who already shared the name of the veterinarian he uses for his farm.”

“Better prepared than most actors who make a snap decision at those auctions. Plenty of times I’ve heard of some bigshot selling off a horse after less than a month."

Jaskier couldn't tamp down the pride he felt at getting Percival's approval. Gods, he needed to leave this set. Just spend some time with Priscilla and not think about acting for a while. With any luck, he'd be spending time with Pegasus as well.

“How awful.”

“Can’t be helped. You’ll want Pegasus, of course?” Percival asked knowingly, poking fun at Jaskier's wide smile.

“Please. Send me the info and if I can’t be there and I’ll send someone else in my stead.” Jaskier couldn't help himself. “Truthfully, I’d take Roach too but I suspect the horsemaster has his eye on her.”

“Geralt?" Percival asked. He shook his head. "He can’t afford her.”

“You’re kidding.” What a shame. Jaskier had never met a horse and a rider so in tune with one another. He had just taken it as fact that Geralt would be taking Roach home with him. For the first few weeks, until gruffly corrected by Geralt, Jaskier had assumed that Geralt owned Roach and had brought her to set in the first place.

Though, looking back, it was a foolish thing to think. Roach and Valdo had been paired together for the duration of the filming and Geralt's stony glare anytime the actor mounted the mare...well, Jaskier would assume that if Roach had belonged to Geralt, he would have banned Valdo from riding her.

“Already asked him. I went to give him the info because I thought the same as you. Figured he’d be first in line but he didn’t even consider it. Poor fella. I didn’t want to push, you know?”

“Good man.” Jaskier stroked Pegasus and his eyes drifted over to Roach.

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

Zoltan's head poked through the door of office had housed the horse crew for the past few months. It hadn't become home, certainly, but the production team had put together a good group. Geralt would be keeping the contact information of more than a few riders and trainers in hopes of working with them again on future projects.

"You headed out, Rivia?"

"Almost packed. Just wanted to stop by the stables." The production auction had already happened but Geralt hadn't heard of any of the horses being moved out just yet. That kind of transport, especially if they weren't being kept local, took time to arrange. He had double-checked too. There was plenty of time for him to say goodbye to Roach. Give her a few extra treats, a good brushing down. The best sendoff a girl could ask for, really.

And she deserved a proper goodbye. Geralt had second-guessed himself, knowing how much it would hurt to say farewell but he couldn't help himself. Between the actors and the long shoots, all the horses deserved some post-production pampering. Geralt hoped the rest of them would get it once they were with their new owners and families.

"Surely you're doing more than stopping by."

"What?"

Zoltan gave him a perplexed look. "Roach, I mean. You're taking her with you, aren't you?"

"Can't afford her," Geralt said, trying not to grit his teeth. He had only said it aloud once before. When Percival had asked for his future plans. All of the horses were auctioned off at the end of the production, along with various bits and bobs that the studio didn't want to keep or store.

Roach was a prize mare, along with many of the other impressively bred horses in that stable.

Geralt would have loved to take her back to the ranch and shared stables that he ran with his family but it just wasn't in the cards. It was kind of the manager to even come to him and inquire. It spoke volumes about what Geralt had accomplished over the course of the shoot. At least with that gesture, Geralt knew he'd have a reference for future jobs. Perhaps not just for him but for the ranch too.

"But she's in your name. Isn’t she?"

"What are you talking about?"

Zoltan came into the room now, still looking at Geralt as though the man needed his head examined. He spoke slowly. "Geralt, I saw the finalized auction list. She's been paid for already and your name is on the front of her paddock."

Geralt froze. Surely Zoltan misread or even misunderstood. Geralt's name's was occasionally listed on paperwork as a handler if a buyer wanted to know more about a horse's temperament. But not as the owner or buyer.

He slowly backed away from Zolton and calmly headed towards the stables, and Roach's stall. He did not want to sprint eagerly or get his hopes up so instead, Geralt inhaled and exhaled every other measured step.

Roach's ownership papers were slipped in a plastic sleeve with a little metal hook attached so it remained securely on the nails of the stall door. Little dried stains and dirt covered the plastic and Geralt imagined Roach trying to get at her own papers.

Geralt von Rivia.

Undeniably, there in black and white. Geralt blinked, not believing his own eyes.

But still, there it was: Geralt von Rivia.

"Ah, Geralt!" The stablemaster came up to him, clapping him on the shoulder. "I had heard that you weren't able to bid. What a lovely surprise when I saw the name." Roach stretched as far out of her stall as she could manage, just reaching Geralt to nudge him. "And it looks like she agrees as well."

"But I didn't bid," Geralt said, confused. He stared at the paperwork for an extended period of time. He just couldn't believe it. Even encased in plastic that had corners peeling away at the top, it looked as officially legal as the other ones hangin off of the rest of the stalls in the stable.

"What?"

"I didn't bid. I told them that I couldn't. I didn't— I don't..." Geralt tilted his head and looked at the placard attached to the paddock. Geralt von Rivia and Roach.

How?

"I don't think anyone would be so cruel to play on a joke on you like this, mate."

"How can I check?"

The stablemaster pulled out his phone and held up a finger. Geralt didn't argue but watched the man dial a number and take a few steps away.

Roach stretched her neck again so her entire head came through the opening above the stall.

"Hello, girl." Geralt used both hands to rub at her face. He couldn't help it. Even if his name on the paperwork ended up being a cruel joke, he could imagine her at his family's ranch. She wouldn't take shit from the bigger stallion his brother kept and she'd teach their other mares to do the same.

"I talked to the production office. Said she's yours. The bid was placed anonymously."

"What? Anonymously?" Geralt looked at Roach as though she had the answers but the stablemaster continued to talk.

"They also included shipping costs as well as extra for feed, care, special needs, etc. A retainer essentially."

"Anonymous? How could they manage that?” Geralt leaned against the stall door, brain going into overdrive. He wasn't even sure where to start.

The stablemaster clearly could tell, and his voice softened, speaking as he would to any of the horses in the building. Geralt couldn't find it in himself to angry. It was a strange version of kindness that, in his overwhelmed state, he had no option except to accept. "It's all in the paperwork."

"Can I get a copy?"

"She's yours, Geralt, of course. Her and the paperwork."

Geralt looked at the paperwork attached to the stall and began to slide it out of its protective slip. He balanced his phone in one hand and the papers in the other as he slowly began taking photographs of each one. "I want to send the information to my friend before I— before I take her home."

"A lawyer, you mean."

Geralt nodded. "Just to double check."

“Smart man. Let me know if I can be of anymore help.”

Mercifully, the stablemaster left and Geralt let himself slide down the stall door. He knew he'd have to change pants before leaving now but he couldn't bring himself to care. He leaned his head back against the door.

He squinted at the sun through the windows as he struggled to hear the phone ringing amidst the breakdown of the rest of the set.

“Geralt.”

“Yenn.” Geralt couldn’t manage more than that. He took a deep breath to try again but Yennefer stopped him.

“Geralt? Are you all right? I thought you were still on location for that god awful film.”

“I am. I’m still there. I just. Something’s happened. I’m fine,” he added quickly. “It’s just strange.”

“Explain.”

"If someone bought you something anonymously, is there a way to tell who it was?"

"A gift? What kind of gift has you this shaken up? I am going to need so much more context, Geralt. Not to mention lunch and permission to laugh at you for whatever this is once you're back in the area.” Yennefer stopped talking and Geralt heard a few voices, none of them hers. “That is, I assume you're not back in the area yet. I just saw Eskel at the market last week. He would have mentioned it."

"No we— the film just wrapped. Everything was being broken down and there was an auction but." Geralt took a breath and gathered his words. "The horse I talked to you about."

"The smart one, yes." Yennefer's voice grew quiet and sympathetic in a way that would have surprised Geralt when they first met. But she knew what horses meant to him and respected it. They had both come a long way with one another. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted to buy her."

"That’s the thing, Yenn, someone bought her for me. I just received the paperwork. They paid for her, the board, and transportation back to the ranch. Not to mention a little more if needed. What could be needed?"

"Maybe they thought since you couldn't afford the price of the horse, you couldn't afford food, medical care, things like that."

"Oh." Geralt couldn't decide if that was insulting or thoughtful. Most people on set only saw him in his barn clothing so perhaps they couldn't be blamed for the assumption. He certainly didn't attend any social gatherings after the work day. The cost of Roach had held him back, not the care.

"You don't know who it could have been? Not a clue?"

"I'm...not exactly friendly to people on set," Geralt growled. “I certainly didn’t endear myself to that Marx asshole who rode her during filming.” He hated being on set but he was there to do a job and at least if he was there, he knew someone was protecting the animals.

"You do want her, right?"

"Of course I do," Geralt gripped the phone tightly. "I just want to make sure it wasn't some kind of mistake. Or strings attached. That she can't just be taken away at all in the future."

"All right. I'll look into it. Send me everything and give me a few hours."

"Thank you."

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

Geralt von Rivia.

Jaskier shifted all of Pegasus’ equipment to one arm so he could reach out and touch the paper. It felt good to see.

He looked around the stable to check he was alone before giving Roach one last pat. He kissed her on the nose and whispered, “Goodbye.”

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

Geralt’s entire afternoon had to shift. No longer could he throw his duffel bag in his truck and endure the long drive home. Instead he spent the day asking for another night in one of the spare rooms near the set. He went to ask after borrowing a trailer, only to find that it was one of the included costs with the purchase of Roach and far too nice for his truck.

Most importantly, he spent time with Roach. She was the last horse left at the end of the day. He had avoided people by hopping into her stall at some point, the stables full of agencies and buyers coming to collect.

A few people stopped to read the paperwork outside Roach and Geralt couldn’t stop his pride from rising. She was a star, great stock but even better temperament. And she was all his now.

Thankfully, by the time Yennefer called, no one was in the stables to hear a mobile phone start ringing inside one of the stalls.

“That was fast.”

“I’m very good at my job, Geralt.” Geralt wisely held his tongue. “Right so. Roach was bought and paid for by a Julian Alfred Pankratz."

Geralt blinked. He looked to Roach as though she could answer his questions. “I...I don't know a Julian-- whatever. Whatever name you just said to me."

Yennefer gently, "I think he's more commonly called Jaskier."

"Jaskier?"

"Yes, Jaskier. You know, one of the stars of the film series you've been working on the past few months."

Geralt bit back a growl. Yennefer was doing him a favor. He didn't need to be a twat. "I know who he is. I don't know why he bought Roach though."

He had certainly never been kind to Jaskier. If anything he had been a downright grump. Which wasn't much different from how Geralt treated most of the actors. Even the ones who had been nothing but kind to him.

He just couldn't risk it. The cast were a load of gossips and each week, Geralt heard something different about Jaskier and his coworkers. Geralt hadn't wanted to get involved.

It wasn't worth his time to be a notch in the bedpost for an actor who apparently had paramours throughout the cast and country, if the rumors were to be believed.

Clearly it hadn't mattered to Jaskier anyway.

"Bought and gave to you," Yennefer corrected. "Roach is in your name. I had to jump through some hoops to find this information. It wasn't easy. I don't think he intended on you ever knowing. He never mentioned it at all, correct?"

Most of the conversations Geralt had with the man were one-sided, or just corrections for his horse handling.

"Most of the actors left the day after the film wrapped. I haven't seen any of them save for a few who needed re-shoots with some of the sets we still had." His fist tightened around his phone. “I only told one person that I couldn’t afford Roach. He's not the type to pass around gossip.”

"I don't think Jaskier meant anything bad by it, Geralt."

"I just don't...understand."

"Me neither but unless you'd also like me to follow up, perhaps get in touch with his management?" She left the question hanging in the air and Geralt's face reddened at even the mention of talking to Jaskier again. It wasn't the man who had him worried but the whole process. Going through his team and agent just to ask why? What if he took back the gift?

Yennefer read his mind, as per usual. “He can't take Roach back, Geralt. I made sure of it but honestly, it looks like he is the one who made sure of it. No strings."  

"No strings."

"Do you want me to try and find out why? Have you looked at her teeth? Perhaps you might want to look a gift horse in the--"

"Yennefer," Geralt growled.

"Take Roach back to the ranch, Geralt. I'm sure your family will be excited to meet her."

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

"Is this my welcome?" Geralt hadn't even gotten out of his truck yet but he was tempted to make a u-turn and leave the ranch the same way he came in. He wasn't sure where he and Roach would go but anywhere would be better than his little brother giving him a suspicious expression the moment he pulled into the driveway. Eskel pushed Lambert to try and snap him out of his daze. "Well, are you just going to look at me like that or are you going to say hello?"

"Did we know you were bringing home a horse?" Eskel asked delicately while Lambert just continued to stare.

"I didn't even know I was bringing home a horse." Geralt slammed the driver's side door shut and caught Eskel in a hug. He snagged Lambert too even though the little shit tried to wriggle away after two seconds.

Lambert went through his fingers on a very short checklist. "Aiden was hoping you'd break your rule of no autographs for this one. But you didn't do that. And you brought home a horse."

"We've got a free stall, right?" Geralt looked towards the stables. They rarely had a full house unless they were hosting some kind of trail camp. Still, he hadn't even thought of calling home to check.

"She's staying?"

"She's mine." Geralt handed Eskel the paperwork and Lambert immediately hung over his shoulder to read through it.

Eskel's eyes widened at the sight of her lineage. "How did you afford--"

"I didn't. It's…a long story."

"You didn't steal a horse, did you? Someone is going to be looking for this girl."

"She's not stolen. Her name is Roach." Geralt ran his finger through his hair, pulling at the tangles from having the window open on the long ride back home. "Melitele, can we not do this now? Let me get her settled and then I'll tell you about it."

Eskel and Lambert exchanged a look and Eskel shoved Lambert off his shoulder. "Lambert, go tell Dad that Geralt's home. When does the trailer have to go back?"

"They bought that too."

"The trailer came with the horse?" Eskel waved his hand after seeing the pained look on Geralt's face. "All right, don't tell me. I know you don't want to explain it more than once."

He left Geralt to blessed silence. Silent as a farm could get, at any rate. He patted Roach's flank and coaxed her out of the trailer, leaving it unlocked and opened behind him. The ranch was isolated enough as it was and he'd be back for it soon enough.

"This is Scorpion. That's Kelpie," Geralt introduced Roach to each horse as he walked her by their stalls, finally coming to an empty one. He eyed up Scorpion, already thinking ahead. Eskel's stallion was of good lineage. It wouldn't be a bad match to think of for the future.

He hung around the stable as long as he thought he was able to. Just because one of his brothers hadn't been sent out to fetch him yet didn't mean that Vesemir hadn't already planned it. Geralt patted Roach one last time and headed out.

The farmhouse smelled just as he left it, like horse and his father's cooking. The first an unfortunate by-product of their lives but the second, a welcome back.

They didn't all still live in the house. Eskel had a cabin on the furthest edge of the land with a herd of goats that they rented out and kept for milk. Lambert and Aiden had just moved to another patch of acreage on the opposite side before Geralt had left for the film shoot. From what Geralt could gather from Eskel's texts, they swapped out more nights than one making sure someone was there to help Vesemir with the morning chores.

"Hey Dad." Geralt leaned in and let his Vesemir clap him on the back.

"Good to have you home." Vesemir's gruff voice washed over Geralt and he felt something in his shoulders settle. He took the offered bowl of stew and purposefully brushed against both Eskel and Lambert on his way to sit at the table.

"Good to be home."

Lambert, mouth full of beef stew, used his dripping spoon to gesture to the TV.

“You worked with him, right?”

"Who?" Geralt looked up from his bowl. There was an entertainment show on the television but it had gone commercial. Lambert rolled his eyes at him.

“Jackass. Jaskier. They had a whole segment on him."

Geralt swallowed and before he could overthink it, told them, "That’s the one who bought Roach. Bought her in my name, I mean."  

Eskel near choked on a beef chunk, "What?"

"Him?" Lambert's eyes widened. He shot a look at Vesemir. "Did you, uhh--" but he didn't get a chance to finish because Geralt threw a chunk of bread at his head.

"I didn't sleep with him, you ass. I don't know why he did it. I wasn't even supposed to know, according to Yennefer."

Geralt wished he knew why. It was an itch he couldn't scratch, though having Roach home and in her stall was a significant balm. He accepted another slice of bread from Eskel.

"She checked it out?" Vesemir asked knowingly. "Everything is all right?"

"The paperwork all checks out. No strings," Geralt echoed Yennefer's earlier words.

"Good lineage," Eskel added slowly. "There’s no issues with her health?”

Geralt nodded. "None that I know of. I'm going to call in Coën tomorrow to give her a full check-up and we'll go from there. I don't think there will be a problem though."

Lambert shrugged at Eskel who still looked suspicious. He eyed the door that led out closest to the barn as if he wanted to go interrogate Roach to find out more. “Oh. Well, I guess a person who buys a horse anonymously as a gift can’t be that big of an ass then like the papers say, right? Was he?”

“Was he what?”

“An ass. Was Jaskier an ass?” Lambert asked again.

Geralt pondered the question. He hadn't expected to think this much about anyone from the cast after production had set down. Definitely not Jaskier.

Truthfully, Jaskier had been the furthest thing from an ass. Sure, he had gotten to the stables earlier than the other actors but it was a strange thing for Geralt to complain about considering how late the rest of the cast were for their training sessions. He cared about the horses too. It had been sweet.

"What are you on about?" Vesemir grumbled.

Lambert, mouth full of stew, looked at Eskel imploringly, fighting to swallow. Eskel tilted his head towards the television. "The lad who bought Geralt his horse apparently got on the bad side of some folks. The gossip shows say they've been spreading rumors about him for months."

"Did he say that? Jaskier." Geralt's attention suddenly back on the television. The b-roll footage of a posh gentleman on the red carpet was not the same man covered in a dirt -covered costume after a ride or a long shoot, that was for sure. It still was Jaskier though.

"No one's heard from him. It's all come out now after the production's ended."

Eskel plucked a newspaper off of the counter and passed it over to Geralt who took it but kept it closed. Jaskier's face was on the cover or it would have been if his hand hadn't blocked the photograph from the view. "Wouldn't be surprised if he sued them for libel though. Judging by what they're saying in here, he's certainly got a case."

FALSEHOODS AND PRODUCTION WOES the newspaper headline shouted. Geralt ran through the first few lines of the article and felt the pit in his stomach begin to grow.

“I heard some of these.” He had been on more toxic sets in the past. With more difficult actors trying to make passes at him, sometimes aggressively. Thinking that crew should be lucky to get their attention. Television shows, soap operas had been worse. But this still hadn't been good. And Jaskier had been nothing but kind to him. Annoying, perhaps early in the morning but, certainly nothing like the rumors had suggested. Still Geralt had done his best to ignore him.

“No kidding? Maybe they’ll call you in to testify.”

Geralt leaned against the counter and stared the newspaper, hoping no one else heard the roaring in his ears.

Perhaps there had been another reason Jaskier was hiding in the stables each morning instead of by the breakfast tables in the craft tent.

Certainly Geralt had taken his solace in the company of animals before. Jaskier had clearly just been doing the same.

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

“You have more security out in the country. That’s the whole point of the privacy fence,” Priscilla argued. Jaskier had been sneaking peeks through the blinds for the better part of the morning. His face had gotten paler with each glance.

“I know you’re right.”

“I am. London will still be here when this all blows over. Or when a judge makes it blow over.” Jaskier sighed. Priscilla hated seeing him like this, curled up on the couch, phone turned off. Country life would be pleasant in more than one way.

“You can bond some more with that horse you’ve got. I’m sure he missed you.”

“I’ll just have to come back to the premiere,” Jaskier warned. “You won’t have the flat to yourself for too long.”

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

"Zoltan."

"You're going."

"Going where?"

"To the premiere."

"We're a little busy here." Geralt gazed around the quiet stables and winced at the phone in his hand. What Zoltan didn't know wouldn't hurt him. The last thing Geralt wanted to do was take the journey into London and be around people that he didn't even socialize with when he was paid to.

"All the crew is invited and the production team is insisting the crew come so they don't look like asshats. Please come keep me company," Zoltan near begged.

"Too late for that isn't it?" Geralt thought back to the television stories and the articles about Jaskier.

Sure, maybe Geralt had given into his curiosity and googled Jaskier's name a few times after his first night home but the man really had vanished. No photographer had been able to capture any images of him and his team weren't responding to any questions.

Geralt wasn't sure if it was Jaskier's team at work or someone in his corner but certainly he had read a few articles about instances of Jaskier's kindness. He had experienced that first hand and judging by the rest of the stories, he felt they had to be true. Most of Jaskier's generosity came anonymously but he hadn't always been as good at covering his tracks as he had been with Roach.

"Well, perhaps. Valdo made sure of that."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I just meant. All those rumors he spread about Jaskier. Turns out this wasn't the first person who he had done this too. I heard tell that Valdo is going to be blacklisted in the industry and then sued for gossip. Defamation or something. I'm not too sure. It'll be out in the papers soon enough."

"Libel," Geralt murmured, thinking back to the articles he had read. "Even I heard gossip around the set."

"I didn't believe any of it, personally. Jaskier was always a polite fellow and some of it was nasty. Well, I'm sure you didn't either. Otherwise Jaskier wouldn't have done you that solid."

"What solid?"

Zoltan was quiet for a beat too long.

Geralt sighed. One more piece of the puzzle. "You mean Roach. I know he bought Roach for me. But how did you know?"

"Ah well..."

"I had to go through a lawyer to find out," Geralt added.

"I did the paperwork," Zoltan admitted. "He did want it to be anonymous but I thought that was just so production couldn't give him a hard time about buying two horses."

"He bought another horse?"

Zoltan paused again. "He really never mentioned this to you? He was in the stables near every morning."

"For training."

"Not just for training. Though I guess we know now that he was just trying to stay away from Valdo and his cronies." Geralt wasn't sure what to say to that. He had never been anyone's idea of a respite and his guilt at knowing he hadn’t made the time easier for Jaskier still weighed on his mind. Though perhaps Jaskier had just been after the horses. "He bought the one he rode. Pegasus."

"Oh."

Geralt hadn't expected that. He knew Jaskier had gotten along with the horse, of course. That had been easy enough to see, sweet even. But it was still a surprise. A pleasant one.

There was something about Jaskier buying a horse for himself and for Geralt. As if the man understood the responsibility and the importance. He wasn't just buying Roach as a gift for whatever reason, he knew everything the job would entail.

"The premiere is in London. Should be a good time so long as no one leaks the news about any legal cases beforehand."

Geralt rubbed his hand over Roach's nose and made a snap decision. "I'll meet you there."

"Really?"

"You owe me a drink."

"Should be an open bar, mate."

"Well, that makes it easy for you then."

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

Geralt wasn't exactly keeping up with Jaskier's story but Aiden and Lambert watched enough entertainment news for the rest of them. Gossip papers would be left out around the barn by visitors without issue. If Geralt just happened to see that Jaskier hadn't been heard from in a few weeks since production shut down then, well, that was just a fact that lived in Geralt's brain.

One that he definitely didn't overthink. Not with the premiere already on his mind.

"It really was Valdo," Lambert had told him one morning. "Apparently he wanted that role of Jaskier's so badly that he decided that he'd try to make sure the guy would never have any other roles again."

Geralt didn't let on that he had known. Still, he hadn't thought about the creep since Zoltan had brought him up.

Valdo. Like Zoltan had said, it was no wonder Jaskier had always signed up to be the first person at the stables with Geralt. Valdo Marx would never deign to get to the stables early in the morning, even when it was a necessity that he do so.

"Loads of other actors apparently apologized for listening to Valdo. They'd been giving Jaskier the cold shoulder for weeks now. But still, no one has seen him."

"I can't blame him for wanting to take a break from acting. Even now with the rumors out, I think I'd find another industry to work in all together." Aiden shook his head. He looked up at Geralt hopefully, nudging Lambert conspicuously. "You haven't heard from anyone from set talking about it?"

Geralt gave Lambert an exasperated look. "I know you had overheard that conversation. I'm not taking either of you to the premiere. I'm staying for one drink and then getting on the train again."

"Told you so," Lambert muttered. "Fine. Be that way."

“Poor guy,” Eskel murmured. “I’d hide too if I just had to spend months contractually obligated with people all poisoned against me.”

Geralt kept his eyes down, wishing the conversation would change. Wishing he hadn’t been such a fool. At least he knew why Jaskier had always signed up to be the first person at the stables. Not that the information helped Geralt’s newly-acquired nausea.

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

It would be fine.

That's what Geralt kept repeating to himself on the tube ride into London.

Geralt would go in, have a drink with Zoltan, find Jaskier, thank him, and then never have to think of the man again. A strange sense of closure for someone he never had a relationship with, platonic or otherwise, but it was the right thing to do.

Everytime he looked at Roach or rode her around the ranch, he thought of Jaskier. It wasn't guilt or anything owed to the man. Geralt believed in the actor's earnestness and no-strings gift.

He managed to find Zoltan right away, the two of them hiding in a corner of the hotel bar through the actual film and more when crowds finally came back.

"I had wondered if Jaskier was even going to come," Zoltan confided in Geralt, leaning closer to the bar and looking over their shoulders as their lobby filled up.

"Because of Marx?"

Zoltan nodded. "I suspect there will be a healthy number of people keeping them away from one another."

"For good reason." Geralt tried not to be too obvious in his glances behind them but Zoltan knew enough of the cause. "Why come at all, I wonder?"

"Contract," Zoltan told him, pressing his lips thin. He shook his head at the thought. "It's written in the contracts that they've got to do press and this counts as press."

"The red carpet beforehand, surely. But I can't imagine a party is." Geralt shifted uncomfortably. The bar was filling up and he and Zoltan were getting squashed to one side already. The gracious and well-tipped bartender had thought ahead and topped the two of them off before the rush began.

"You've been in this business for a few years now. Surely you're not that naive."

Geralt finally caught sight of Jaskier. In a plain blue suit, unlike such patterned clothing he had worn even after Geralt had told him he’d only get the fineries dirty.

Without turning to look at the crowd or see if anyone was watching him, Jaskier hurried up the side stairs to where Geralt knew there was another reserved space, a small but grand library room that hadn’t been alrered since the 30s. He and Zoltan had stumbled upon it earlier in the afternoon while hiding from cameras.

"I'm more naive than I think sometimes." Geralt nodded to Zoltan and held out his hand. Zoltan took it to shake instantly. “It was good to see you. Call if you’re ever by the ranch. We’d be happy to have you.”

Following Jaskier’s path and manners, Geralt also didn’t look behind him as he slipped up the same stairs, closing the paneled door after him.

Geralt allowed himself a moment to look at Jaskier. The man had his coat in hand and was staring out of the rather large window flanked by two bookshelves.

“I just wanted to—“ Jaskier spun around, hand to his chest. Geralt took a step backwards. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier finally said, even though his heavy breaths were still evident. He stood up straight and blinked a few times too quickly. Geralt softened his voice, hoping to ease his nerves.

“Jaskier. I just wanted to catch you to say thank you.”

Jaskier flinched, just slightly. He tilted his head and looked at Geralt as though he was the picture of innocence, furrowing his brow slightly to sell the confused image.

"For what?"

"Jaskier," Geralt chastised. He was in no mood. He had been around far too many people this night. Jaskier thought so too judging by the fact that he had left the main party room for this quieter one. Still, Geralt knew that wasn’t the only reason. "Thank you for Roach."

Jaskier's mouth opened a bit and then closed again. He seemed to be eyeing how Geralt was blocking the only exit out of the room. "How do you know?"

"Was I not supposed to find out?"

"Well, it was— anonymous. I thought." Jaskier's confused expression tightened as though he was trying to remember the legal jargon he had gone through when setting up Roach's purchase and fund.

"I--" Geralt felt his face go a bit red with embarrassment at that. "I wanted to make sure she really was mine. No strings or anything. I had a lawyer friend look into it just to double check."

"Right.” Jaskier shook his head, a few locks of hair coming loose from their coiffed position. “Yes, of course."

Geralt hated that Jaskier was agreeing with him. As if it was perfectly all right for Geralt to be suspicious of a gift and also of Jaskier himself. What a pair they were.

"Look," Jaskier held up his hands in front of him, "I know you don’t like me and I didn’t to it so you’d be— beholden to me or forced to pretend to like me or whatever. You weren’t supposed to find out. But that awful man from production was going to buy her and I couldn’t let that happen and I had heard that you were had turned down the opportunity which just seemed wrong. I mean, she’s clearly your horse and—"

"Thank you." Geralt said firmly. “Just...thank you."

"Oh. You’re welcome." Jaskier swallowed and chanced a look out the window again. Geralt watched him, very aware that he had done what he came to do. Still he couldn’t make himself leave.

"Are you planning on hiding here all right?"

Jaskier shrugged. "I haven’t decided yet.”

Geralt wasn't sure what to do with that one.

"Would you like to come visit Roach?" He tried next.

Jaskier still looked uncomfortable.

“Right now?”

Geralt remembered the early training calls, how quiet Jaskier was when other people began to come around the barn, the rumors he heard even his first week on set. How he had let them affect the way he handled being around Jaskier more than anyone else. Fuck.

"Where do you live?" Geralt asked suddenly, not realizing the strangeness of the question.

"What?" Jaskier seemed taken aback which was more than fair.

"I only meant— Here in London or LA or New Yo--"

"Here. England, I mean. I’ve got a little place a little ways outside of London."

That could be anywhere, Geralt didn’t say. Jaskier still looked uncomfortable. His shoulders were hunched and he was holding himself tightly with his arms straight down at his side so his hands could be shoved into his pockets.

It had been weeks since they had seen each other last and Geralt just. He had so many things to say now but couldn't make the right words come out of his mouth.

He thought about Jaskier every time he rode Roach around the farm. He wished that it was just the two of them at 6am on the training set again. Jaskier on Pegasus and Geralt on Roach, going through the obstacle courses.

He wanted a second chance to ignore rumors and laugh at Jaskier's jokes and flirt back at him. Geralt had that open Jaskier still in his mind, who was so pleased to see both Geralt and the horses even though it was barely past dawn and he had had a late shoot the previous night.

"Did you really buy Pegasus too?" Geralt asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Jaskier blushed. "I did. He's with me. Well, a stable near me. I know I'm not the greatest at care as you saw it but I visit him and ride as often as I can." His smile was soft just thinking about the horse and Geralt again ached, thinking about the morning dew, riding with Jaskier around the ring. The soft voice that he used for the horses regardless of who could hear him.

"You’re welcome to come see Roach anytime. Especially if you want to bring Pegasus. My father’s ranch is remote and private. Sometimes we get writers or other people stay for retreats in some of the smaller cabins."

Jaskier still looked uncomfortable. Upset, even. He had taken his hands out of his pockets and he was leaning backwards, clutching the window frame. Geralt wondered how much acting he did on a daily basis.

He really hadn’t meant for Geralt to find out about Roach.

"He's really fine. I promise," Jaskier said quietly.

Geralt swallowed his nausea at just how still Jaskier was holding himself. At how Jaskier thought Geralt only inquired after Pegasus because he assumed Jaskier couldn’t take proper care of him.

And that was Geralt’s fault. For listening to rumors. For being colder to Jaskier as the shoot weeks had gone on. The man had sometimes beaten Geralt to the stables in the morning and in return, Geralt had barely spoken to him.

"I have no doubt that he is enjoying your care. As well as you sneaking him too many treats," Geralt joked, trying to lighten the mood. He hadn't mean to imply that Jaskier wasn't taking proper care of Pegasus. That hadn't been it at all. He was just. He wanted to be near Jaskier. He didn’t want to leave him just yet.

He took his eyes off of Jaskier's and they fell to his long fingers. Even though he was facing Geralt, Jaskier’s fingers were clutching the window lip.

He hadn’t been looking out the window or catching his breath in an empty room.

Jaskier had been trying to get out onto the fire escape.

Of course.

Geralt sighed, he could feel a dull ache behind one of his eyeballs. Perfect. He had already caused Jaskier enough panic for one night and now a headache. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"Here is a card for my friend. She’s a fantastic lawyer and if you mention my name, she’ll take you on. She might laugh but she’ll do it. The laughing will mostly be at me,” he added. "You might not need her, of course. But she's the one who helped figure out it was you who got Roach for me."

Jaskier took the card from Geralt's outstretched hand and near cradled it in his hands. "Thanks."

"Do you want help opening the window that you were trying to escape out of?"

There was a spark in his eye that Geralt hadn't seen in months and he was willing to bet he wasn't the only one who missed it.

"Please."

Geralt used one hand to gesture for Jaskier to move out of the way and he did, with almost too much glee. There was a bounce in his step that Geralt was relieved to see. None of the tabloids or entertainment shows could see that when they talked about him.

He carefully examined the large window. The expansive sash was sturdy enough but Geralt was more than a match for its age. He reached up and unlocked the top before heaving under the lip.

It opened without issue.

“Thank you so much,” Jaskier gushed. He didn’t even wait for Geralt to move out of the way before climbing into the fire escape. He turned to look back at Geralt. “I really appreciate it.”

Geralt gestured again, this time for Jaskier to step back, further out the window.

"What are you doing?" Jaskier asked as Geralt had one foot out the window.

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “I opened the window. Am I not also allowed to climb out of it?"

"I guess." Jaskier looked bewildered. “There’s still a party downstairs.”

"I think you know me well enough to know that it’s not my kind of party.” Geralt enjoyed seeing the flush on Jaskier’s face at the possibility that the two of them might know one another at all. “I'm not letting you fall down the fire escape."

"Just because my upper body strength is lacking doesn't mean I've never climbed down a fire escape before," Jaskier argued even as he made for the ladder.

God, did Geralt want to know that story. He could do nothing but follow Jaskier.

Out of the window, down the fire escape, and to the ground, where Jaskier landed safely with a soft "Oomph."

"Thank you,” he told Geralt again. Then, before he could lose his courage, he added, “It was good to see you again.” He took off down the street, collar popped up around the lower half of his face.

Geralt wanted to call after him, invite him to get a drink, spirit him away before the cameras out front could find him. He imagined them getting the tube together and riding away all while Jaskier huddled closer to him, whether for warmth or so no one recognized him. Geralt fantasized the worst case scenario, with himself stepping in as the hero for Jaskier, blocking him from the cameras.

In the end, he watched Jaskier, hunched over himself in a foreboding navy coat, make his way around the corner. And then he went home to the ranch and told Roach all about it.

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

“Just like that?” Priscilla asked, graciously not mentioning the fact that Jaskier had put on her favorite sweatpants or that he had heart eyes whilst talking about this mysterious horse guy.

Jaskier shrugged, swirling a wine glass with one hand. “Just like that. I’ve gotten a new agent. A new lawyer seems like a good place to start.”

“And you trust him?” Priscilla held up the card. “He couldn’t afford a horse and yet has a friend who works here?”

“She’s how he found out I bought the horse for him.”

“Your funeral.”

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

"Geralt von Rivia," Yennefer's voice came through his phone. Geralt winced and so did Eskel even though he was near three meters away. Yennefer only used their full names when they were in trouble. "Did you give some twink my number?"

"Can you help him?"

"Yes, I believe I can. i just wanted to check his story."

"He bought Roach for me."

"Yes, the mystery-horse buyer. I remember." Yennefer's quiet voice used to grate on Geralt. He never knew what it meant. He used to think he was a fool but as their relationship developed, he realized that Yennefer's version of caring contained a lot of frighteningly quiet determination.

"I wasn't supposed to find out, apparently."

Geralt wasn't grumpy about the situation.

He wasn't.

He just wished that everything was different. That was all.

"Well, he didn't anticipate you having me for a lawyer." Yennefer paused and Geralt heard some paper rustling in the background. "Did you know about all this? His situation, I mean.”

“I’ve heard rumors.” Geralt didn't mention that he had been reading Lambert's discarded tabloids and doing some googling of his own.

“Rumors of the situation or the rumors being spread about him on set?”

“The latter,” Geralt mumbled, embarrassed. "Both, I suppose. Lambert reads the tabloids. So does Aiden."

“No wonder he talked himself in circles about you. His friend had to stop him twice from rambling on.”

Geralt wanted to ask about that but he knew Yennefer wouldn't answer. Or couldn't, with a confidentiality clause.

“Can you fix it?”

She scoffed. “Of course I can. It’ll be a bit messy but luckily, this isn’t the only lawsuit against this guy. Tons of evidence and witnesses too. He managed to get a new agent who hasn't been doing half bad of a job. Don't worry, Geralt. I'll protect him.”

"Marx?"

"Yes. It's not the first time he's done this either." Then, softer. "I'll help him, Geralt. I promise."

"Thank you."

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

“Jaskier!” One of the farmer’s son sprinted up to him, coming to a stop once he reached the stables. Jaskier had just gotten himself onto Pegasus for the day. “We had a man come round asking about you yesterday. Dad wanted you to know.”

“Here?” Jaskier dismounted quickly and looked around the farm to the tree line, expecting the press to come racing at him after the teen. "Take a breath, Matthew."

Matthew and the rest of his family had been nothing but kind to Jaskier since he had started boarding Pegasus at their farm. He hated to think they were being harassed by some reporters.

“One of those newspaper people. Had a camera and everything.”

Jaskier's heart sank but Matthew shook his head.

“Posh twat!” One of the farmhands yelled from the loft. “We ran him out!”

Jaskier didn’t bothering covering his mouth as he laughed along with Matthew. “He didn’t cause any trouble?” He asked earnestly.

“We said that we’d never heard of you," Matthew said proudly.

“Thank you so much.” Jaskier heaved a sigh of relief and leaned against Pegasus. He gave the horse a kiss and nodded to Matthew again. The boy, realizing just how close he and Jaskier were standing, blushed a bit before racing off.

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

It had taken Geralt a long time in his life to learn never to doubt Yennefer but it was a lesson that had stuck.

In keeping up with the news about Jaskier, Geralt had learned a lot about him. To the point where, when Jaskier’s best friend, Priscilla, was interviewed on the red carpet of her latest premiere and asked about the missing man, Geralt knew exactly who she was. It also meant that Geralt could properly appreciate her viciously telling the interviewer to fuck off.

Jaskier still hadn't worked on a film in weeks but Yennefer assured him it was for the best and that Jaskier was doing fine. Laying low was a part of the plan.

The successful plan as it so happened.

Lambert slapped the newspaper down on the breakfast table. Geralt and Eskel both jumped back.

"The guy who saved Roach has been saved!" He crowed triumphantly, dodging a spoon thrown by Geralt.

"Jaskier?” Eskel asked. “The trial went off all right?”

Lambert nodded towards the paper. “It says Marx was found guilty. So Jaskier and the other people he talked about are in the clear with any luck. Have you talked to him?"

"What?" Geralt looked up from the front page. Jaskier looked good in most outfits, of course, but the official black suit for court did nothing but match him to Yennefer, who was barely in the photograph, as the newspaper had tried so hard to cut her out.

"I know it says he won the case but he looks here miserable, mate.”

"Tabloid photos aren't real indicators of a person's well-being," Geralt said stiffly. Even though Lambert was right. Geralt kept picturing the animated Jaskier that he had been privileged to see for a whole thirty seconds at the premiere party.

"You texted him though, right?"

Geralt hummed. "Yennefer's helping him out."

Eskel and Lambert responded at the same time.

"That's not an answer to his question."

"That's not an answer to my question."

Sometimes Geralt really hated his brothers.

"You gave him Yennefer's name?" Eskel urged on.

“Must have,” Lambert commented, tapping on the partial shot of Yennefer buried under headline text.

"Her card." Geralt also remembered Jaskier's uncomfortable body language at the party. Curled in on himself, not meeting anyone's eyes and when he did, he looked right past them. Sometimes when Geralt closed his eyes he saw Jaskier's white knuckles against the windowpane, desperate to make an escape. Geralt provided that. He gave that to him. And Yennefer's information. "He seemed like he just needed someone in his corner."

"And now?"

"He's Yennefer's client right now. They're not friends. Yet,” he added. “Knowing Yennefer, it will depend on if she likes him or not."

Lambert turned back towards his breakfast but Eskel still had a knowing eye on his brother.

“Looks like it’s all wrapped up. He’s not her client anymore.”

"I don't have his number." Geralt admitted, just barely audible. “I never did.”

Eskel reached over and tapped on the screen of Geralt’s phone. "I bet Yennefer does."

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

Geralt: Do you have Jaskier's number? Yennefer: Finally. Yennefer: I can't give it to you. Yennefer: But I can give your information to him. Geralt: Thank you. Yennefer: He's sweet but skittish. Be gentle.

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

Yennefer: 033 0058 0058 Jaskier: What's that? Yennefer: Geralt's number.

Jaskier sighed and touched his thumb to Yennefer's name.

"You're calling the wrong number," she told him in lieu of a greeting.

"I don't know him," Jaskier argued. "We were never supposed to see each other again."

"I expect a gift basket after the wedding then."

"Shall I expect one for you and Priscilla?" Jaskier asked coolly. Thankfully, Yennefer laughed and he managed to keep going. "He didn't want to talk to me when we had to spend near every day together. I don't think I can manage a phone conversation if it's just me." He wasn't worried about being too honest. Not with Yennefer, not after the trial.

He'd woken up plenty of times in Priscilla's flat after an emotional night to Yennefer at the door with breakfast for all three of them.

Yennefer hummed and in a way, she sounded almost like Geralt. "You're right. Can I make another suggestion?"

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

Yennefer: Are you home today? Geralt: Yes Yennefer: All day? Geralt: Yes Yennefer: Good. Stay there. Yennefer: Or outside. By the driveway. Geralt: Why? Yennefer: Trust me, Geralt. It's a lovely day. Yennefer: Just enjoy yourself.

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

Geralt stuffed his phone back in his pocket and asked Roach, “What do you think?”

Roach just looked at him which was fair but Geralt’s heart started to race with the anticipation.

He couldn’t be sure of what was coming but he hoped. He left the stables and headed for the house. Sitting on the porch did nothing for Geralt’s nerves so instead he found himself standing in front of it.

Barely twenty minutes had gone by but still Geralt found himself picking the paint off of the porch railing.

An unfamiliar engine caught Geralt’s ear and he turned towards the front drive.

Then, there he was.

Jaskier.

In a shoddy little truck with faded red paint that was nearing pink. It looked as though perhaps Vesemir was only one old enough to have purchased it as new. He was towing a trailer behind him and Geralt would be willing to bet that he knew who was in there.

He also clearly didn’t know where to park. No doubt Yennefer had given him an address only. Geralt didn’t bother to hold back his enthusiasm, waving Jaskier towards the neat line of vehicles by the stables.

Geralt wondered if it would be too much to open the door for him but he remembered Yennefer’s words.

He's sweet but skittish. Be gentle.

Geralt could do gentle. He’d soothed plenty a horse in his time. So he hung back, just giving Jaskier what he hoped was an encouraging smile as he opened the car door himself.

"Um. Hello," Jaskier said shyly, a little nod of his head. With his priorities in place, he was already headed around to the trailer door. Geralt knew he was going to let Pegasus out but he couldn't help but feel as though Jaskier was trying to avoid contact with him at the same time.

He remembered how Jaskier needed to do something with his hands even on a good day, whether that was the infuriating clicking of the pen he used to make notes on his script or the constant twisting of Pegasus' leather reins around his fingers.

Geralt liked to think that this would be a good day but he knew how much courage it took for Jaskier to drive here with his horse.

Jaskier gave Pegasus a happy smile and guided him out of the trailer. It wasn't until the horse was solidly on the grass that Jaskier met Geralt's eyes again. Geralt could see that it wasn't just shyness. It was nerves.

Jaskier was biting at his lip and playing with the leather of the reins just like he had those mornings on set. "I wasn’t sure if the offer to visit was still there. Yennefer said—

"Yennefer was right," Geralt said quickly, beating Jaskier to the trailer door. He latched it shut, staring unblinkingly at Jaskier.

"Did Yennefer tell you to say that?"

“In my experience, it’s usually true,” Geralt joked. He took a step forward. "I'm...glad you're here."

"Oh. Oh, good," Jaskier sounded so relieved that Geralt wanted to convince him to stay forever. To gain confidence as Geralt did around his brothers, to be fed delicious meals by his father, and most importantly, to find peace with Geralt.

"I'm not...I'm not great over the phone anyway,” Geralt offered.

"I thought that might be the case,” Jaskier admitted honestly. “I wasn’t sure if I could stand to carry a whole conversation. Yennefer thought it would be easier for us just to..."

"Be together in person?"

"Well, I was going to say be with the horses. So we both have something to focus on if we need it." Jaskier lovingly stroked Pegasus and the horse nuzzled at him. Geralt had seen the same scene dozens of times over but that had been on set. Seeing it again here, on his family’s ranch was almost too good to be true.

"That works too." Geralt paused a moment and then urged Jaskier to follow him. “Come out to the barn. She’ll be excited to see you.”

Jaskier walked Pegasus through the stables. He let out the sweetest sigh upon seeing Roach again and Geralt never wanted Jaskier to leave the ranch again.

"Oh, hello, darling," Jaskier said quietly. Geralt took Pegasus' reins and Jaskier used his free hands to rub at Roach's nose. She leaned into the petting and Geralt wished he could take a photograph.

“I was a twat,” Geralt told him while Jaskier was distracted by a beautiful horse. “I’m sorry.”

Jaskier looked down and shrugged. “I’m sure you see all sorts on film sets. I can’t even imagine.”

“I bet you can.” Geralt stroked Pegasus. He unlatched Roach’s stall and gestured for Jaskier to lead her out. “You weren’t any trouble, you know.”

“I don’t know if you remember but you…you yelled at Marx one day. He was crowding me in the stable and Roach picked up on my mood and became irritated with him. You told him off.” Jaskier told all this to Roach and Geralt did him the courtesy of not commenting on it.

Geralt didn’t remember though. He had chased away dozens of actors from horses over the years. It didn’t surprise him that Marx had been one of them.

“I’m glad she was there to protect you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.”

“I won’t say that it’s all right,” Jaskier said, with more strength than he looked. He swallowed and finally turned to Geralt. “It’s been…a long few weeks. Months, really. But we’re here now and—��

Roach nudged him again and he let out a little laugh. Some of the tension leaving him.

Roach nuzzled closer and Jaskier could tell she was eager to get out of her stall. “Yes, darling. I brought your old friend to come see you. I thought perhaps--" He looked at Geralt. "I thought perhaps we could go for a ride together? If you'd like."

"I'd love that," Geralt croaked, wondering how Jaskier could still be so brave after all this. That he was here and talking and asking Geralt to spend time with him. "Let me tack him up for you?" He asked, hand on Pegasus' flank.

Jaskier's brow furrowed. "I can do it."

"I know that you can. I want to do to it,” Geralt stressed. "Please," he added.

"Let's swap," Jaskier said, still lovingly petting Roach. "I haven't seen this girl in a while. It'll be nice."

"All right," Geralt agreed. He could see what Jaskier was doing.

It wasn't about a penance. Jaskier wanted them on some kind of equal footing. That was fair, Geralt supposed. Even though as of that specific moment, Geralt wanted to give Jaskier the world.

"Are you all right now?" Geralt asked, hesitating in a way that he hoped made an answer not necessary if Jaskier didn’t want to respond.

"Well, I don't know about 'all right,'" Jaskier huffed. His eyes were looking straight ahead. "Yennefer certainly settled some things. I'm not sure I'll be acting anytime soon. Or um, answering my phone calls. I've actually changed my number again. Remind me to give it to you."

"I'd like that." Geralt didn't mention that he never had Jaskier's number in the first place.

"It's not the press," he assured Geralt. "Just a lot of people trying to apologize or offering to support me. I'm talking to the same few who always believed me before everything, you know? Mostly just Priscilla and Yennefer right now."

Geralt didn't know. He was one of the people who...well, he's not sure that he believed the rumors. He wasn't someone to go around sets making friends regardless. But he had certainly heard the gossip, listened to it even.

He liked to think he made up for some of that but in actuality, Geralt knew it didn't matter. He'll always wish he had behaved differently when he first met Jaskier. He could have maybe had Jaskier in his life for so much longer. Could have supported him better during this shit time instead of just handing over Yennefer's card and begging her to take the case.

Geralt's mind was full of questions that he wasn't sure if he was allowed to ask. He wasn't even sure he wanted the answers either. What was Jaskier going to do now? Geralt knew that one was selfish because he so wanted the answer to include him.

They worked in silence to get the horses ready but it wasn’t a silence that Geralt minded. Especially not when it was broken every moments by Jaskier giggling whenever Roach tried to interrupt his actions. He watched Jaskier get up onto Pegasus before following on Roach.

“You could always keep Pegasus—“

"I was thinking maybe I could board Pegasus here? If you've got the room—"

"Yes!" Geralt said immediately, cutting off what he had started saying as well as Jaskier's nervous rant. He didn't want Jaskier to be unsure of himself ever again. Not where Geralt was concerned. "You could come by whenever you'd like. Hopefully...often," he let himself say, voice growing stronger as the sentence went on.

"Yeah?" Jaskier asked. Geralt couldn't look away from how his teeth trapped his bottom lip between them. He was grateful that they were both on horses, otherwise Geralt wasn't sure he could have stopped himself from taking his thumb and slipping the abused lip to safety.  "I don't live too far away. I hadn’t realized.”

Geralt swallowed. He met Jaskier’s big blue eyes and knew his own were rounded in vulnerability. “Please."

Jaskier finally, finally, smiled at him in such a way that Geralt felt his chest loosen. Jaskier nodded and Geralt felt his heart beating in his chest again. He grinned back at Jaskier and felt something swirl around them.

“Stay for dinner? My brothers would love to meet you. My father too.” Geralt was horrified at himself. He hadn’t rambled on like this in years. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop himself, not when Jaskier was giggling and trying to hide it with a hand over his mouth. “My brother Eskel’s horse is the one I’m planning to pair Roach with but I’m making him grovel for it if you’d like to help.”

“That sounds nice,” Jaskier laughed openly at him. Geralt didn’t mind one bit. “I’d love to stay, thank you.”

“Thank you.”

Geralt couldn’t help but sneak peeks at Jaskier as they mounted. It seemed Jaskier didn’t mind, snorting each time he caught his former horse master. And then he did the same, with Geralt trying not to preen too much in response.

Jaskier told him about Priscilla and Yennefer meeting and how he couldn’t go to dinner with the two of them alone again, Geralt, please.

Geralt explained how the farm worked and how much he disliked being on set away from his brothers, even when the money was good. How mercilessly they had teased him about Jaskier when he had returned.

They rode through the ranch, to Eskel’s farm, and Geralt found that both of them were becoming freer with their laughs by each trot.

The two of them had a strange beginning and a tumultuous middle but perhaps, if Geralt and Jaskier worked for it, they could have a lovely end.

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

ao3 link here

[whereisten]

True Love

A Jeno fic that’s a part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: You, an employee at an entertainment company, are immune to the charms of their biggest star Lee Jeno.

Pairing: Rockstar! Jeno x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, fantasy, suspense

Warning: alcohol use, smut mention, stalking, manipulation 

Word Count: 4.3k

(A/N: Hiya! I’m so sorry for the delay! It’s been so hectic lol! Thank you so much for your support and patience! Hope you enjoy! And shoutout to Krys for keeping me sane and for all of her love and support. I love you! :D)

___

To everyone in the world, Lee Jeno was the epitome of perfection and rock royalty. He was a gifted musician from the very young age of five, having specialized in several instruments in his childhood. However, his heart gravitated to the guitar. He became a trainee at LCF Entertainment and along with four other trainees, they became the world famous rock band, Temptation.

He was ranked in the top 23 in World Magazine’s Sexiest Men Alive this year. He was a walking and talking Adonis with a heartwarming smile.

Jeno was a man of many talents but he certainly didn’t let it get to his head. He was a humanitarian, a UNICEF ambassador, fostered shelter animals, was the proud owner of three cats even though he was allergic, a great family man (funding his siblings’ college tuition and providing for his parents so they could retire early), etc. He did it all and he had it all.

How could anyone be immune to his charms?

People wondered who would be the queen that would reign beside him when he settled down. Frankly, one couldn’t be anything short of a supermodel on the verge of sainthood. So many hopeful contenders were discouraged from pursuing him.

Jeno’s dating life was non-existent, the paparazzi dreaded to inform.

But you were an employee of LCF Entertainment so you knew the truth, as well as the true nature of the famous Lee Jeno. He was basically like any other young man with an inflated ego. He was cocky, a huge flirt when the cameras were off, very picky, and demanding. But no one ever dared speak a word of his true nature to the paparazzi. And you always wondered why. Someone had to bring him down a few pegs.

You were the staff photographer and videographer, in charge of capturing Jeno’s good and “relatable but still unbelievably glamorous” sides. When the camera was on, that was when you felt at ease.

It didn’t help that Jeno liked you either. Although you’d been working with Temptation and the individual members for a few years now, it was only recently that Jeno really was set on it pursuing you.

When you switched off the camera after the recording of Jeno’s backstage vlog, he sat comfortably at his makeup chair and proceeded to ask, “Y/n, will you go out with me now?”

You answered immediately, “No.”

Jeno gave you a sad puppy dog face. “Why not?”

“We’ve gone over this. I would get fired.” You wanted to spare his feelings so that was what you always said when he asked you out.

Jeno groaned. “You would not. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

You snorted. “You think you have that kind of power, Lee?”

He liked when you called him by his last name. “That’s because I do have that power, y/n. The new company building is funded solely out of my earnings from my last solo album.”

You whistled. “There’s that humility I’m always reading about in O!What Magazine…”

Jeno smiled. “You read articles about me?”

“I do when my name is in the article, boss.” You started packing up your equipment, ready to call it a day and head home.

Jeno got out of his chair and stood over you. He smelled of Dior Sauvage, cologne from his latest brand endorsement. He wore his stage clothes from his solo concert rehearsal. A sleeveless jean jacket top that parted down the middle to show his abs. Along his abs, silver chains dangled and added a nice glimmer effect when he was on stage. The entire team was thrilled to see how the audience would eat it up.

He whispered into your ear, “Y/n.”

Truthfully? He was attractive. You’d always had a little crush on him but it was of a shallow nature. You liked him for his looks. Not so much for his personality. You’d known too much.

If Jeno had been any other regular guy, you would’ve been open to a one-night stand.

But Jeno wasn’t just any regular guy.

You tried to hide the fact that shivers ran down your spine. “Stop.”

He chuckled. “But I can see you through the reflection, y/n...You're crossing your legs…”

You’d hoped he wasn’t that perceptive but it turned out he was. You hid away the fact that you were turned on. Your panties were damp but you’d be damned if he ever knew that.

You met Jeno’s perfectly lined eyes as he looked at you unapologetically. Everyone else from the staff already left. Jeno’s manager was waiting downstairs to take him to the radio station J-423 for his upcoming interview.

You were breathless now. “Jeno, you’re going to be late-”

He pulled you into him and kissed you, easily slipping his tongue into your mouth and working magic against yours. You couldn’t help but return his kiss. His mouth was paradise and you wondered what else he could do with it.

He let you go after a few minutes and cupped your face. “So are you going to deny that there’s something going on here?”

You tried to catch your breath as you wiped your lipstick off of Jeno’s mouth. “No, I guess not...But this is where it stops.”

Jeno frowned. “Y/n…”

“I know where I stand. And you know it, too. And Jeno, I don’t like you that way...I’m sorry.” You caressed his face and grabbed your things, leaving Jeno with an unreadable expression on his face.

___

As a member of LCF Entertainment, your ultimate goal was profit. That was what you had to know from the very beginning. There was no such thing as LCF Family or truly prioritizing the idols. Everyone was after themselves. Whoever brought the most money to the company would get the most attention and special treatment. And that was Jeno.

And you, an aspiring film director, were thankful to be on his team because this experience could open doors for you in the future as a director. Sure, Jeno was a diva and he couldn’t stop flirting with you, but the experience wasn’t all that bad. And yeah it was frustrating that the media and the public perceived Jeno to be the nation’s sweetheart. But in the end, he wasn’t hurting anyone.

He was only hurting people’s wallets.

Temptation’s merchandise always sold out quickly but Jeno’s individual merch was always the first to sell out. And it was the first to get resold for twice and sometimes even triple the price. The fanbase was very merciless and selfish with each other. However, the scalpers were the true evil. That was less money going to your company, after all.

Even though frontman Jeno was the most popular member of Temptation, it was Temptation’s drummer Xiaojun that you had a massive crush on for a long time now. You even accumulated a secret collection of his merch. You were two photocards away from completing your Xiaojun album photocard collection.

Xiaojun even admitted to liking you back but you both kept it a secret from everyone else in the world, especially LCF. You two weren’t about to compromise your jobs. However, since Temptation was the biggest moneymaker in the game and the boys had been with the company for quite some time now, their dating ban was lifted.

Which explained why Jeno had been asking you out all week, not caring who listened and it freaked you out.

If Jeno’s fans ever found out he asked you out, they would pin the blame on you.

A week had passed since you told Jeno you weren’t interested in him. You felt bad for hurting him but you were also worried about his mood. He had the power to get you dismissed. You refused to believe he would be so cruel.

And up until this point, you were right. You were still employed and Jeno spoke with you like any other day, talking about camera angles and new concepts for upcoming shoots.

The end of another work week and Xiaojun surprises you on your way to the bus stop.

“Y/n,” Xiaojun pulls up beside you in his Porsche. He looked so elegant in a pale blue sweater and blue jeans. His face was concealed by a mask so he could leave undetected. But you’d recognized those eyebrows anywhere.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

“I...I think we should finally talk…”

“About?”

He smiled. “About dating.”

You nearly dropped your phone out of your hand from the shock. “Really?”

He said, “Get in so I can drive you home!”

You nodded fervently and got into his passenger seat. Was this really happening?

On the drive home, Xiaojun told you he wanted to take it slow and have indoor dates with you first. You couldn’t agree more. He even surprised you with a brand new pair of AirPods after you told him that your brother took them from you.

The first of many gifts, he told you.

You got home that night and screamed excitedly into your pillow so as not to frighten your roommates

___

It has been a month since you and Xiaojun started seeing each other. You were on cloud nine. He would visit you at your apartment and would play with his dog Bella. Bella loved you a little more than she loved Xiaojun so you two would always bicker and end the night in each other’s arms.

Jeno noticed the spring in your step as you filmed his cooking vlog. He was showing his fans how he cooked breakfast for himself when he had down time. He was in a plain white T-shirt and a pair of drawstring trousers. He looked relaxed and for many, delectable, as his hair was wet from a shower. He was trying very hard to get your attention once again.

He anticipated you averting your eyes and stuttering at the sight of him but nothing. You whistled while you adjusted the tripod’s position.

“What’s got you so happy?” Jeno asked.

You nearly jumped at his question. You decided to be upfront. “I’m seeing Xiaojun.”

Jeno’s cool facade nearly cracked before your very eyes. “Oh?”

You apologized. “I’m sorry, Jeno. I should’ve told you that I liked Xiaojun…”

Jeno was furious. What the hell did Xiaojun have that he didn’t? Jeno was more muscular, taller, more talented, wealthier, more attractive...He was superior to Jeno in every way and everyone else knew it, too.

He honed his acting skills and replied evenly, “Why are you apologizing, y/n? So you like someone else...I’ll live.”

You realized maybe Jeno didn’t like you as much as you thought so you felt relieved to hear his dismissive tone. “Right. Good. I just...thought you should know…”

You and Jeno continued the shoot. He acted like nothing had happened and even behind the scenes, he joked with you and asked you which of the female trainees he should ask out. You berated him because female trainees were not allowed to date and he knew this very well. Jeno was back to his arrogant self and you were relieved.

___

You got a text from Xiaojun that he was finishing up a filming schedule with his bandmates. You wouldn’t be able to see him today because the schedule was running overtime.

He told you to go to dinner with some friends at Osaka Moon. His treat. He was good friends with the chef, apparently. You were on your way to the restaurant to meet your friends.

You were shocked at how down-to-earth Xiaojun still was after achieving so much fame and then he would do things like this. It gave you whiplash but you were having the time of your life with him.

However, you noticed him across the street. Xiaojun always wore different wigs and masks for his disguised outings with you.

But this time, there were no disguises. His side swept blonde hair and his thin framed glasses. There was no mistaking that it was him.

Was the filming for the show at the Downtown Hotel?

You were about to call his name when you saw another woman wrap her arms around him and squeeze his ass. She had long wavy brown hair and a slender frame. She could’ve been a model or a singer. They both entered the expensive hotel. Very bold of him to take her out so publicly when he was still intent on hiding you.

You felt like someone knocked the breath out of you. You shook your head in disbelief.

Immediately, you dialed Xiaojun’s number and there was no answer. You called four more times and nothing.

Son of a bitch, you thought.

He played you. You should’ve known he was no different than any other dickhead A-lister.

You decided to call his bandmates. It turned out that the filming they’d done today wrapped up over two hours ago.

Haechan had no idea where he was. Jisung didn’t either. Jaemin was equally perplexed. Last but not least you called Jeno.

He answered. “Hello?”

At this point, you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. “Jeno…”

“Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“Do you know where Xiaojun is?”

“Not specifically...he did mention he had a reservation at the Downtown Hotel…”

You sniffled. “He did?”

“I thought he was meeting you…”

“No, he wasn’t…”

“Oh...Oh, shit, y/n. I am so-“

“It’s okay...Thanks Jeno. I’ll see you on Monday…”

You told your friends to have dinner without you and to make sure to spare no expense because your so-called boyfriend was buying. You told them Xiaojun finished at the last minute and wanted to take you dancing.

A total lie so you could wallow at your local bar.

You sat right by the bar and downed a few glasses of beer. Just to feel anything else besides the betrayal you felt.

A half hour later, you were even more buzzed now. A young man sat beside you at the counter.

He started, “Hello, gorgeous.”

You looked at the young man. He was stunning. Another face that belonged on television. Another one of those who was capable of seducing you and tossing you away the very next second.

You flipped the bird. “Bite me.”

The young man scoffed and tried again, “Feisty, aren’t we?”

He got closer to you and you began to feel uncomfortable. “Please leave me alone…”

“Tsk tsk. A beautiful girl like you in tears? You need someone who will bring your smile back.”

“And you’re the man for that job?” Someone interrupted.

You were shocked to find Jeno here. He looked gorgeous in a black leather jacket and dark jeans. His hair was slicked back the way you liked it most and wow, you may have had one too many drinks...A few customers recognized Jeno and started whispering and taking their cameras out.

“Jeno?” You nearly lost your balance as you got up from your chair.

Jeno grabbed you immediately before the other guy could.

The stranger said, “Why do you get to put your hands on her? Just cause you're some pretty boy with mediocre music...I’m sure she’s nothing compared to who you’ve bedded before-“

Jeno socked him in the face and escorted you out of the bar. The stranger cursed you both out as you left. Jeno led you quickly into his manager’s car that he borrowed for the night. You felt a little dizzy.

Jeno fastened your seatbelt.

You smiled at him. “Thanks.”

He looked at you in concern. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “Why are men scum, Jeno?”

Jeno sighed. “I’m so sorry about-“

“Don’t say his name...I...never want to see him again...God, now I have to sell all of his merch…”

Jeno frowned in confusion and continued, “I’ll take you home…”

You didn’t want to face your roommates. “No...Can I…Spend the night with you?”

It took all of Jeno’s might not to get out his car and raise his fist in the air. But he composed himself. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, wanting to forget all about Xiaojun and have one thoughtless night with Jeno. “Yes.”

Jeno drove you two to his penthouse suite. He was cautious around you and you were ready to shrug away your inhibitions.

Jeno helped you remove your coat at the entrance. “Take a seat. I’ll get you some water.”

You sat yourself on the couch and opened your legs wide, exposing your panties underneath your skirt. “Jeno, fuck me right now so I can forget his sorry ass.”

Jeno hesitated then but seeing how irresistible you were...He couldn’t help himself.

He asked again. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. You were buzzed but not that buzzed. You wanted to spite Xiaojun. You wanted to acknowledge the part of you that longed for Jeno for so long, too. You’d be stupid to deny that you fantasized about a night with him.

You hesitated before but now you said, why the hell not?  

You and Jeno made love that night. Jeno was over the moon that you were finally in his arms. Sure it was a rebound but the look in your eyes when he was inside you had to mean something. There was a promise there and Jeno held onto that glimmer of hope.

Jeno took you home the next day and he was very cool about the whole night. Right before you returned home. you reminded him about how this was a one night stand and thanked him for a wonderful night.

You were resolute in dumping Xiaojun and simply going back to work. Thankful you only ever worked for Jeno anyway. And as expected, Jeno was his usual self: cocky, flirty, sending his food back for random reasons.

Xiaojun came under the fire for going to a hotel with a potential prostitute. The identity of the woman he was seen with remained a mystery. He tried convincing everyone that the woman was not a prostitute but he couldn’t remember how he met her or what she looked like. That night and along with how crazy Xiaojun sounded caused the company to encourage him to leave. Xiaojun’s contract with LCF Entertainment was terminated.

The week after you and Jeno made love...You started catching feelings for him. Every glance. Every fleeting touch. It drove you mad. And suddenly that one night stand was something you wanted again. And again. And again.

You accompanied Jeno and his manager as he attended a gallery opening. You were in charge of his photos for his social media. He looked extremely dapper in his red suit. You just wanted to rip his clothes off and make love to him in front of all of the guests. Becoming a work of art yourselves.

These thoughts you’ve been having used to scare you but now...you owned them. Tonight, when you got him alone, you would tell him how you really felt. You hoped you weren’t too late.

Jeno’s manager excused himself to get some refreshments. Jeno observed a painting while you took some more photos.

“Stunning,” you said aloud.

Jeno’s eyes grew at your words. “Wow, y/n...All the years we’ve worked together and you’ve never made a comment about my looks…”

Your face grew warm then. “I’m feeling a little bolder these days…”

He grinned. “Is that so?”

“Jeno, I won’t beat around the bush…I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night…”

“Y/n…”

“I know I said it was a one night stand and...You’ve moved on…”

Jeno started, “I haven’t…”

You were shocked to hear it. “Really?”

He moved closer to you and moved the camera away from your line of sight. “What are you saying, y/n?” His voice was dangerously low.

“I’m saying...that I want to be with you, Jeno.”

Jeno’s smile looked so gorgeous then. He was the true work of art at the gallery. “Well, y/n, I’ve made my feelings abundantly clear for a while now…”

He kissed you then. And the cameras started flashing.

You were on cloud nine. You finally released your suppressed feelings for the rockstar before you.

___

You’ve been together for two years now. He made you feel safe and loved. He showered you with gifts and trips to the most beautiful parts of the world.

As for the response from netizens and the company? Jeno had all the power and he could handle a few naysayers. Your job as his photographer and videographer remained intact. And you were well on your way to transitioning to your own film projects: your dream.

You and Jeno had become a couple to root for. They called you The Prince and The Pauper Turned Princess. You hated your label but whenever you looked at Jeno’s eyes, any anxiety or anger quickly faded.

Jeno had a solo performance in your city tonight and you were seated in a private booth. He was performing so well, moving from instrument to instrument. Driving people to tears with his long low notes. And then he surprised everyone with his announcement.

“Before I perform ‘Changed Your Mind’, I want to give a shout-out to the woman of my dreams, y/n, who is here with us tonight.”

The stadium roared in excitement and many heads turned to you. Your eyes never left Jeno.

“Y/n, I love you so much. We’ve come so far, baby. And I want us to never stop. Which is why…”

He got down from the stage and was escorted by security down to the crowd. He ran his hands past adoring fans as he made his way to you.

He entered your booth with his camera crew and security close by. “Y/n, will you marry me?”

You cried out, “Yes!”

Jeno picked you up and spun you around. You kissed passionately. The crowd’s roars thundered now. It was a celebration. You didn’t care that all eyes were on you now, as well. All you cared about was Jeno. And he loved you more than anything else in the world.

You truly found your soulmate and you couldn’t be happier.

___

Jeno finished his show and was backstage cooling down with a bottle of water.

“Good job tonight,” a woman said as she stood at the door of Jeno’s dressing room.

“Thank you, sis. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jeno’s older sister Yeeun sat on the couch of the dressing room. “How does it feel to have her in your clutches now?”

Jeno smirked. “Pretty damn great.”

“And I’m here to collect my payment, little brother.”

Jeno sighed. “Really? It’s been two years.”

Yeeun looked at her manicured nails. “I’ve been busy.”

Jeno laughed. “Screwing over taken men? I’m sorry, I meant screwing taken men?”

“Nope. That task was a one-and-done deal. How is that poor boy doing these days?”

“Xiaojun? He’s back at school getting his master’s...He’s happy.”

“Has he tried to contact y/n since then?” Yeeun asked.

Jeno chuckled. “No. Why would he?”

She smiled at him. “They were sweet together. And you tore them apart because you couldn’t take no for an answer, could you?”

Jeno rolled his eyes. “And what about it? I have a right to get whatever I want. Do you know who I am?”

Yeeun sighed. “Yes, you repeatedly tell the family group chat who you are every week. And we all take it because you pay us well…”

Jeno and Yeeun had conspired against you and Xiaojun. Jeno stole Xiaojun’s phone and Yeeun charmed Xiaojun to join her for a night at the hotel. Jeno planned for you to go to Osaka Moon so you could see Xiaojun and Yeeun together.

Jeno watched you as you broke down in tears, calling each of his bandmates. He made sure he was far enough away by the time you called him. He played the part of a concerned friend very well. He had to take up acting, another field he would surely dominate. And with you as his director? It made him hard just thinking about it.

Jeno didn’t coincidentally find you at the bar. He’d been tailing and that stranger who hit on you was only an added bonus. Jeno could play the unsuspecting hero and you would eat it up. And that you did. He was satisfied to know that you wanted to sleep with him. He didn’t care about being a rebound.

Even so, he wasn’t going to take any chances. So after you left his penthouse the next morning, he took the bedsheets you came on and the strands of hair you left behind and got to work.

Did you really think Jeno amassed such success and wealth all on his own? He had a little help from his family and their friends from Hell, of course. Jeno’s family came from a long line of Satan-worshipping witches. Jeno was the youngest of the descendants.

Human sacrifice was only a small token of the Lee family’s appreciation to Lucifer. So Jeno’s deception of Xiaojun was almost nothing in the list of gruesome things Jeno has done to reach the top of his game.

Yeeun was able to literally charm Xiaojun with her own special concoction. Once she and Xiaojun had sex, she wiped his memory of that hour and left him alone at the hotel. Confused. Disoriented. Worried.

As for you? Well, you were the most irresistible creature in this world. Your immunity to his charms was only the first step in his growing feelings for you. You were brilliant and talented at your craft, always capturing his best features on camera. You were gorgeous. He was surprised you didn’t become an idol at LCF yourself. You were warm and sweet and giving. Even if the company was cutthroat, he saw how you’d be with your coworkers and the other idols. You were just a pure, loving girl. And he desperately needed you. Desired you. Craved you.

He simply had to call you his.

With your samples, he was able to create the perfect spell to make you his.

Forever.

That was what Jeno called true love.

[Fin]

[alltheselights]

I completely agree with you about the stunts, especially Olivia. Olivia was an actress and director before Harry. She was chosen to direct this movie before Harry was even cast. She already had a name for herself and her own career. Yes, publicly dating Harry has raised her profile but I knew who she was and had watched her movies and TV shows before she became Harry’s public relationship. All the talk about Olivia actually did what was intended - Don’t Worry Darling became the most-anticipated movie of 2022. Larries who apparently hate the idea of the movie helped to do that. Larries need to just leave her alone. If the movie isn’t good, then it’s not good and you can dislike the movie without getting personal. But don’t blindly attack Olivia, especially considering how hard it can be for female directors to get big films in the film industry. It’s not just Larries going after her but they are the loudest voices. So many harries also hate on Olivia, either jealous he’s dating her so they call her old and ugly and say why would he be dating her (which I hate, it’s ageist and sexist and looks are subjective anyway), or they also think she’s a beard and he’s gay just not with Louis. But Larries always set themselves up. Of course you can have valid criticism of things she has said or done or some of the themes in the movie but you can point it out without being rude or coming across as irrational. On the other hand, Eleanor has kind of been using Louis or his name to fund her lifestyle for years while hanging out with people who actively hurt his career and reputation. I’m sure it’s comfortable now and they seemed fine interacting with each other on that first day of Glastonbury, they’re simply distant with each other, which is for the best for Louis really. She made him laugh and that was really it. They don’t even kiss in public anymore 😭 which is better too because Louis does not look comfortable at all when you see photos of him and a woman kissing.

Yup, totally agree. Nobody says you have to like Olivia, but fans have made her much more of a focus than she would’ve been otherwise and it’s the haters of DWD that have given it a huge amount of free advertising. When you trend Olivia and DWD every day, most people are not looking at the trends and agreeing with you. Even if your points about her being problematic are valid, the general public and other fandoms are assuming everything said is based on misogyny and jealousy over her dating Harry. So they’re dismissing what you’re saying and then they’re looking into DWD, which is the opposite of what you’ve intended. Everyone on Twitter who replies to DWD posts being like “no, watch MP instead!!!” are also just pissing people off and turning people off of that movie. I remember when K-pop fans used to do that in replies and YouTube comments like “ew no don’t watch Harry Styles, watch BTS” or whatever and nothing made me want to watch BTS less than behavior like that. People would be better off ignoring Olivia rather than drawing more attention to her.

I also agree about the difference between Eleanor and Olivia. Nobody outside of Eleanor’s personal circle would know who she is if not for Louis, but she contributes nothing to his life except making him look straight. Olivia was well known before Harry and Harry’s high profile relationships, like it or not, have ABSOLUTELY helped make him more famous. Even now, though he’s more famous than Olivia, any celebrity/celebrity pairing gets more publicity and more people talking. We may not like it, but to sell concert and movie tickets, that’s what you want.

[algernoninwonderland]

Miraculous’s Paris feels quite impersonal and its geography is incomprehensible most of the time, which makes it difficult to care about it whenever it’s in danger

TL;DR: Paris in Miraculous has a weird geography, and unfortunately, the show doesn’t hide it all that well, which makes it hard to believe in the city as a coherent and cohesive space. Bad lighting and poor texturing makes scenes set outdoors during the day look real bad, and while some of the famous buildings in Miraculous are pretty close to the real thing, they don’t mean much to the viewers emotionally speaking, they don’t elicit a reaction other than “huh, that’s neat”. If your heroes’ mission is to protect a city that’s just “neat”, well it’s pretty hard to care about said mission. 

When you aren’t French and you want to make a show or a film with a scene set in Paris and you want to sell it to an international audience, you put the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre and cafés everywhere. And that’s fine! It’s just a backdrop, you’re not supposed to care about it all that much, because you’re going to spend 2 hours there at most and what’s more, more often than not, Paris is just a decor, not the whole conceit of the film/show.

Miraculous’s version of Paris follows that same logic, weirdly enough, even though it’s made by French people, and initially intended for a French audience. The Eiffel Tower is in a whole lot of shots, we spend a lot of time at the Louvre and near some other touristic landmarks such as the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, the Grand Palais, the Place des Vosges and the Place du Châtelet alongside the occasional metro station, they’re all decently made, at least they’re recognisable. Good job, you guys! (I’m sincere about that bit of praise, too)

It uses referential elements, i.e. things from the real-life Paris… And mashes them together in a bizarre way. Monuments are way too close to one another, or they are places they shouldn’t be. That, in and as of itself, would be fine. Paris is big. You can’t model every single Parisian street in existence, you have to make choices to stay within your budget. And with Miraculous, it kind of works…? If you don’t think about it too much, that is.

This, for instance (that’s from Animan) doesn’t make any damn sense. The Eiffel Tower should be on the other side of the Seine, not here, and the Place des Vosges isn’t that close to the water. Still, it sort of works, if you haven’t lived in Paris yourself. Which will be the case for most people watching Miraculous. It’s a show about a girl who uses a magical yoyo, so I can excuse that sort of weird stylistic choice due to budget constraints.

So, basically, Miraculous has pretty good individual sets, especially indoors sets,Marinette’s house, Agreste mansion, the school, these cool touristic locations, the Grévin museum, even, but they either feel too close to one another or like they belong to different, disjointed spaces. It’s hard to tell where each location is meant to be in relation with one another, even when our characters travel from one place to another.

And how do they travel? Well, they jump from rooftop to rooftop and the landscape stretches endlessly. Rooftops that all look the same. It’s the exact same "set” every time. That isn’t a bad stylistic choice per say, if the point you want to make is that Paris is really really big and there are lots and lots of houses that all kind of look the same, it’d work really well. It’d make the city feel a little oppressive. But you want Paris to be a space the audience cares about, right? So maybe don’t do that?

The way travelling works in Miraculous is, you jump onto a rooftop, you run you run you run and then you land and you’ve reached your destination. Each trip works the same. Doesn’t help make the various sets feel connected, no, sir. Plus, the Eiffel Tower teleports all over the place.

Can you tell me where Alya’s flat is supposed to be? No, really, can you? It’s a nice art déco building, someone probably went through lots of references to model it and it shows! Nice job, really, I mean it. But where is it?  

Well, it’s in an Autodesk Maya file in a database somewhere, but other than that… You’ll tell me if you ever figure that out, I sure wasn’t able to!

So it’s hard to believe in Paris as a kind of non-fragmented space, even more so when wide shots look like this 

and that tells you everything that can go wrong with Miraculous’s outdoors scenes. (also that shot composition isn’t bad at all but it’s weird for a scene like that)

Copy and paste your assets, benches, trees and houses, and don’t modify them one bit. The thing it, that’s fine in shots in which the camera moves a lot, it works well with certain angles, which is the reason why there are lots of chase scenes that go too fast for you to notice that there aren’t all that many “regular house” models, some with an alternate “café” ground floor which features awnings with three different colours. That’s a trick cartoons like Scooby-Doo already used in the 60s to simulate speed. That’s good when things move!

Only, sometimes you see two awnings with the exact same colour in the same, very still shot that lets you see the street in which the house models alternate in a pattern that is easy to detect. You become truly aware that this is a set created by people that feels very artificial. 

Textures in Miraculous are great when it comes to the character models. For the rest not so much. The really ugly pavement texture you see here…

… looks fine when shot from above but looks like dogshit when the camera is closer to the ground, if I may be so blunt. Everything looks worse in the daytime, because daylight is rendered rather poorly most of the time, and the textures either haven’t loaded properly or aren’t high-res enough. That pavement feels real flat, like a texture, not like pavement. Which isn’t very good. Trees often feel like plastic, dirt doesn’t look like dirt at all, more like sand. Miraculous isn’t going for a photorealistic vibe, nor should it be, but these textures just don’t work very well to represent what they are meant to represent. They seem a little off, just enough for you to notice.

Often, everything looks squeaky clean too. Norman Reynolds of Star Wars fame understood that squeaky clean props and sets and costumes aren’t very convincing and tend to feel cheap, so you need to apply a bit of weathering. And Paris isn’t exactly clean. In Miraculous, most buildings are spotless. They don’t feel like they’ve existed for long despite their 19th century architecture. Are you supposed to feel like this is a story set in a giant dollhouse starring action figures? I’m not sure that was the intended effect, there’s an episode with alive toys and the toy world looks even plasticky-er

(Nighttime scenes, on the other hand, can be really gorgeous. Sapotis’s outdoors scenes are truly magical, it’s a really nice-looking handful of scenes because you get to have a better control on the way your scene is lit. Likewise, most scenes set indoors tend to look quite good because there’s greater control over the lighting sources).

Some spaces feel familiar and friendly, homely, even, namely Marinette’s house, the houseboat to a lesser extent, these are all places you’d hate to see get destroyed, and you get a sense of where they are. Sort of. Ish. But outside of that… There aren’t any memorable streets, most monuments are just that, monumental, important imposing buildings don’t feel personal. There are no charming details about them for the camera to zoom on either. 

Miraculous’s outdoors Paris is a series of more-or-less well-made sets that are loosely connected to one another in a way the audience can’t properly process. You aren’t made to feel attached to most of these sets. Technical issues and a limited budget alongside creative choices to feature iconic touristic landmark rather than having streets that feel more intimate, unique and lived-in means that you can’t really care all that much about Miraculous’s Paris as a place.

And it’s a shame. If these two heroes are fighting to protect a city the audience isn’t made to care about, the stakes are much lower all of a sudden. 

The scene in the New-York special with that helicopter shot of all the destruction caused by Mayura’s amok didn’t feel nearly as impactful as it should have. You really ought to wonder why.

[demcnsinmymind]

2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have?

Ahhhhh. Lance and his mom. Also see my headcanon talk about his relationship with his dad for reference.

So as stated before, Lance was a wanted child. He was an only child. And unlike with his dad, he had a tight relationship with his mom. Before her dementia diagnosis, he literally loved this woman to death. She was always supportive of him and his decisions, she spoiled him, she massaged his ego in all the right ways. He knew he could always tell her everything without feeling judged or scared of being vulnerable around her. And unlike with his dad, he did tell her everything. Failures and wrongdoings included. Because she was always supportive in all the right ways.

Technically, she should've been a woman he looked down on, too. She didn't have much of a 'career', despite earning enough she wasn't making buck, she hadn't made much of a name to herself at all. She could've become a successful artist, but chose a more traditional, almost old school family life instead, focusing more on being a parent. Lance's dad was much more hardworking than her, much more focused, so he should've favored him, right? Well, wrong. Because the main difference between his parents was that she was a dreamer, she had all the ambitions and plans in her life,because despite not being famous or successful, she was still creative as hell, could play the piano, sing and write, and back in the 50s/60s she was your typical hippie, a bohemian soul, too. Despite not achieving 'much' she was excellent at selling her child a perfect make belief world where everything was possible with the right kind of ambition and mindset. She was the one who helped Lance find his voice and name, she was the one who didn't just put a camera in front of him and film him, she encouraged him to act, to think up stories on the spot and tell them to an audience in a convincing way. (based on the lovely canon phrase from her "I helped him find his name.") He got all his creativity, passion for the arts and his ambition from her. He loved that about her. Many of her influences on his character and mindset counter-acted the things he inherited from his dad at least somewhat, balancing him out a bit. Like, she was a very kind soul. And a selfless soul. And even though he tends to come across as cold and hardened most of the time, he actually inherited some of her kindness and selflessness. Like the way he was continuously trying to keep his team together and sane one he realized that shit had hit the fan in canon? The way he comforted Sasha, protected her and stayed with her without giving her shit, without being cold with her or straight up abandoning her? The way he initially decided to help these clueless teenagers at first? Even offered to share his limited food with them without much second thought? That was his mom's influence on him. With all of that said, we're still talking about Lance Preston here. And he does have his flaws. And those manifested themselves big time when he was forced to move back in with her when his dad died and she was showing first signs of dementia. Also after a few years of living in California, away from her and his parents in general, he'd had enough time to get some perspective on his relationship with her and her in general as well, so his relationship with her wasn't as rose-colored and perfect as he always thought. What he hated about her was her sickness. Yes, he knew that it was a bad bad thing to think and feel, but he couldn't help it. Lance isn't made to deal with weakness, like he doesn't know how to handle any situation that simply can't be solved via determination, intelligence, ambition and hard work alone. While he was living with her again, he sadly started viewing her as a burden more and more, mostly because she turned more and more into a woman he didn't even recognize anymore. Gone was the headstrong ambitious and dreamy woman, replaced by repetitive stories and a mind stuck somewhere in the 90s, needing help with the most basic things in life. His relationship with her was a bit more strained right until the day he disappeared. Because deep down, he knew that the exact same thing that had already happened with his dad would happen with her, too. He knew deep down that he'd be incapable of dealing with her slow demise. That he'd try to rationalize it, that he'd put a wall between himself, the things he was feeling, and most of all himself and her until it was too late. He hated himself for going down the exact same path and at least tried to do better with her, but the show was taking off and he was traveling for it more and more so...yeah. Her illness was a touchy subject for him right up until the day he disappeared. And you guessed it! Collingwood broke him, and it took all but getting kidnapped, imprisoned, lobotomized and institutionalized that he finally managed to get himself turned around on that relationship. Helped him realize that despite her illness she was still his mom and that he loved her, that she needed him and that he was willing to help her. Deep down hopes that it isn't too late yet, but truth be told, a part of himself actually wishes that the dementia made his mom forget him, forget the pain he caused her by disappearing so shortly after losing his dad, too. Luckily all thanks to canon we know that she did! Yay! In her mind, he only just stepped out that door like an hour ago, not 12 years ago! Yay! Right? Why am I making all these headcanons so sad?!

[introvertguide]

Easy Rider (1969); AFI# 84

The current movie under review from the AFI top 100 is the counterculture road film, Easy Rider (1969). As a note for anybody looking for screen captures, this is also the title of a magazine with many scantily dressed women next to vehicles, so be specific with your google image search. The film combines the hippie lifestyle with the beatnik concept of being free from "the man." It spoke to a lot of Americans at the time who were fighting back against government restrictions on one hand and the freedom of Civil Rights on the other. The film ended up making almost 100x the budget and was one of the first super performing, low budget indie films. The film was written by Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, and Terry Southern. It was produced by Fonda and directed by Hopper. It is funny to think about now, but it was basically Peter Fonda's hippie son and some of his buddies getting together and making a movie about a road trip. Well done! Before we go any further, let's get the normal warning out of the way...

SPOILER WARNING!!! I AM GOING TO SPOIL THE MOVIE THAT DOESN'T REALLY HAVE A MAJOR PLOT!!! WHAT STORY THERE IS I HAVE SPOILED SO WATCH THE FILM FIRST IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO RUIN IT FOR YOU!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

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Wyatt (Peter Fonda) and Billy (Dennis Hopper) are freewheeling motorcyclists. After smuggling cocaine from Mexico to Los Angeles, they sell their haul and receive a large sum of money. With the cash stuffed into a plastic tube hidden inside the Stars & Stripes-painted fuel tank of Wyatt's California-style chopper, they ride eastward aiming to reach New Orleans, Louisiana, in time for the Mardi Gras festival. This all happens either in silence, in Spanish, or beneath the in-coming planes at an airport, so there really isn't any dialogue. It truly is exposition at the most basic level. What the director is basically communicating is "two guys got some money, here's how, now don't worry about it and enjoy the travel montage."

During their trip, Wyatt and Billy stop to repair a flat tire on Wyatt's bike at a farmstead in Arizona and have a meal with the farmer and his family. It is kind of interesting because Wyatt talks later about nobody being willing to help him, yet he is invited to use the barn and tools and then invited to have dinner with the whole family. Later, Wyatt picks up a hippie hitch-hiker, and he invites them to visit his commune, where they stay for the rest of the day. The notion of "free love" appears to be practiced, with two of the women, Lisa and Sarah, seemingly sharing the affections of the hitch-hiking commune member before turning their attention to Wyatt and Billy. The people at the commune seem to like Wyatt and want him to stay, but Billy doesn't seem to fit in and he is antsy to get back on the road. As the bikers leave, the hitch-hiker gives Wyatt some LSD for him to share with "the right people".

Further down the road, the two see a parade and playfully join the back. The pair are immediately arrested for "parading without a permit" and thrown in jail. There, they befriend lawyer George Hanson (Jack Nicholson), who has spent the night in jail after overindulging in alcohol. After the mention of having done work for the ACLU along with other conversation, George helps them get out of jail and decides to travel with Wyatt and Billy to New Orleans. As they camp that night, Wyatt and Billy introduce George to marijuana. As an alcoholic and a "square", George is reluctant to try it due to his fear of becoming "hooked" and it leading to worse drugs but he quickly relents. It is funny when Wyatt calls it "grass" and George doesn't know what that means. I don't know about other areas, but any 13-year-old where I live would most likely know what Wyatt was talking about.

Stopping to eat at a small-town Louisiana diner, the trio attract the attention of the locals. There is a booth packed with young girls next to a booth packed with what I can best describe as hicks. The girls in the restaurant think the trio are exciting, but the local men and a police officer make degrading comments and taunts. Wyatt, Billy, and George decide to leave without any fuss. They make camp outside town and talk about how their freedom scares a lot of people. In the middle of the night, a group of locals attack the sleeping trio, beating them with clubs. Billy screams and brandishes a knife, and the attackers leave. Wyatt and Billy suffer minor injuries, but George has been bludgeoned to death. Wyatt and Billy wrap George's body in his sleeping bag, gather his belongings, and vow to return the items to his family. This happens really fast and I wasn't really sure what had occurred or that George was dead. First time I saw this, I was looking at something else for 30 seconds and turned back to see Wyatt and Billy going through a wallet. I rewatched and the time between George going to sleep and the duo going through his wallet after death was about 37 seconds.

Wyatt and Billy continue to New Orleans and find a brothel that George had told them about. Taking prostitutes Karen (Karen Black) and Mary (Toni Basil) with them, Wyatt and Billy wander the parade-filled streets of the Mardi Gras celebration. They end up in a French Quarter cemetery, where all four ingest the LSD the hitch-hiker had given to Wyatt and experience a bad trip. I had to double check the name, but it is the same Toni Basil of "Oh Mickey, You're so fine, You're so fine you blow my mind, Hey Mickey!" fame.

The next morning, as they are overtaken on a two-lane country road by two local men in an older pickup truck, the passenger in the truck reaches for a shotgun, saying he will scare them. As they pass Billy, the passenger fires, and Billy has a lowside crash. The truck passes Wyatt who has stopped, and Wyatt rides back to Billy, finding him lying flat on the side of the road and covered in blood. Wyatt tells Billy he's going to get help and covers Billy's wound with his own leather jacket. Wyatt then rides down the road toward the pickup as it makes a U-turn.

Passing in the opposite direction, the passenger fires the shotgun again, this time through the driver's-side window. Wyatt's riderless motorcycle flies through the air and comes apart before landing and becoming engulfed in flames. A helicopter shot shows the carnage as the truck drives away and the credits roll.

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This movie is not what I would call my personal favorite, but many critics have praised it for the dialogue, visuals, and story. I am assuming when mention is made of the dialogue, it is in reference to Jack Nicholson, because the two lead characters are that mix of uncomfortable and annoying that you get with sometimes who is inebriated in some way. They repeat themselves, say phrases that make no sense and then laugh about it, and constantly say "what?" so the line is just repeated. The actors were often high during the making of the film and that is not at all surprising.

It seems funny to me that Dennis Hopper acted, directed, and partly wrote the script for the film, yet he gave himself the part of basically the third wheel. The character of Billy seems like he wants to be rich and have nice things but has fallen into the hippie lifestyle. He seems uncomfortable with the drug deal at the beginning. He doesn't want to pick up the hitcher. He wants to leave the commune and get back on the road. He insults George and has to apologize. He is the first to talk about the girls at the diner. He wants to go get prostitutes at the place that George talked about. He is the one that flips off the guys in the truck. Billy is the driving force of everything that goes wrong.

We can't talk about this film without mentioning the soundtrack, because it is kind of what the movie is famous for. Songs on the sound track include: "The Pusher" and "Born to Be Wild" (Steppenwolf), "The Weight" (The Band), "If 6 Was 9" (Jimi Hendrix), and "It's Alright, Ma" (Bob Dylan). Try putting this soundtrack on while driving and you will realize how perfect it is for a road trip. I don't think there has been a better grouping of driving songs.

So does this movie belong on the Top 100 American movies? Well, I guess. It was a watershed independent film during a time of major change in America and the world. It caught the interest of many in a generation and that is interesting enough to experience. Now would I recommend it? Not really. The film was kind of boring and the end is not satisfying. It is fascinating on many levels and I thought that the conversations that involved the character of George were good, but all lot of the movie is kind of slog. The campfire conversation between Wyatt, Billy and the hippie is just painful. It is maybe ironic, but this is a road trip movie that doesn't really move. It is worth watching if you are interested in the time period.

[praphit]

F9: What does Absurdity even mean anymore?

Due to COVID, I thought that my last movie theater experience was going to be "Bad Boys For Life". I'm happy to say that if I died today, I would be telling souls in Heaven that "F9" was the last movie I saw on the big screen (I'm sure that films are big talking points in the after life).

There weren't too many people there:

There was a woman coughing in the corner; I barely looked at her. I imagined that COVID was mugging her, and I didn't want to be a witness, and so have COVID come after me next. I'm vaxxed, but still I was thinking of ways to distract COVID, so I could enjoy the film. There was an old couple sitting up front (like REALLY OLD... sitting UP FRONT... Ha! that's awesome). Awesome or not, I was going to point them out if COVID came after me. There were two obese kids sitting a few rows behind me that I could also point out, as well as my friend that I was sitting next to... what?? Look, they would ALL want me to escape, so I could bring my "F9" review to the people!

WHAT??!

Let's not talk about my survival skills, let's talk some Vin & the Fam - that's why we're here!

It took a while for me to remember what was going on:

Dom (Vin), Letty (M. Rod), and their... kid? Oh, right, they have a kid, and they moved on to start a new life together. 

Didn't the real mom die or something?? Idk. You've got the British lady from "GOT" still hanging out with Luda and Tyrese. 

(they so crazy)

"Hobbs and Shaw" are still gone 

(making their own money, cuz bleep family!). 

Brian (Paul Walker's character - rip) is apparently, now everyone's babysitter. So, if anyone in this gang, who could die on any of these missions, ever have kids, they can just send them off to Nanny Brian's. 

There's a dude named Mr. Nobody who sometimes sends the gang on secret spy missions.

Oh, and people in the gang keep coming back from the dead. Boom! We're caught up with this absurdity. That's actually what I asked for when I got to the movies 

"Give me one ticket for Absurdity please."

In this batch of the absurd, we find out that Dom has a brother, and he's John Cena (Jakob). 

Charlize Theron is back! That must have been the worst bet that she has ever lost. I consider her to be one of the most underrated and underappreciated actors we've got, but movies like these ain't helping that case.

And who's idea was it to give her that haircut? - part of the bet she lost, I suppose. 

It was reported that the gang goes into space (at least two of them do). 

Annnnd the X-Men Jet is back! 

(it really does look like that - Wolverine included)

Seriously, after the X-Men's last two movies (which were turrrible), I was expecting them to crossover for a fresh start. Why not?? They're a spy team now, that goes to space! - nothing should be off the table.

They're looking for two halves of some... war sphere?? If put back together with some key... idk... John Cena rules the world.

Remember when Vin and the gang were all about street racing, money, survival, and brown booty? - those were simpler times!

But, why discuss the plot? Seriously, why? None of it makes any sense. From Dom and Letty living like Amish people (which is an ending worse than death for action heroes) 

to their convoluted explanation for bringing the latest person back from the dead (which reminds me of a married couple, when the husband or wife get caught watching porn, and try to explain that it was just a pop-up that came out of nowhere. The other spouse gulps their glass of wine and plows forward - that was me with this - gulping my soda (with a lil Henny) saying "whatever guys, let's please just move on".

and  what's going on with the two brother's is a thin thread at best. AND the villain's motivation...  

But, it's foolish to get into that., and take points off. I LOVE THESE MOVIES, but it ain't for the story. Let's grade "F9" by its own standards:

Racing, Action, and Family (they graduated from booty to family):

Racing

They've done the racing in a small city thing before, but this time it's with magnets! - SUPER MAGNETS!

YES!

I loved this! Cars are getting sucked into magnets. They're using them to make people fly away and explode. Which btw, they did my man Francis Ngannou wrong (an mma fighter). There's a fight scene with a giant white dude on top of a speeding vehicle. That giant white dude could have and should have been the role for Francis, instead he's just here to say high, and then blow up. As much as I loved these scenes, they were too quick in some areas. I think if they had slowed some of the magnet stuff down a bit, we could appreciate more what's happening.

Action

M.Rod is legit. 

She needs her own franchise. The only action star I enjoyed more than her was Vin, and that's really due to the absurdity of one scene. Do y'all remember the "Civil War" scene when Captain America has one hand on a building and another pulling back a helicopter?? 

It's the same level of strength needed for what Vin does in some underground chambers. You can see a bit of it in the trailer. He pulls the whole place down, and then, just like in "Civil War", he ends up in the water (but unconscious). Oh, and he does this after beating up like 50 people at once. Ha! I love it! Then, how he is rescued (cuz c'mon, he can't die) is splendidly preposterous, and I mean that is a complimentary way. That scene is perfection.

The only action that bothers me comes from Dom's sister (mia). 

She just doesn't sell being a fighter, but whatever. No disrespect... she’s beautiful, but... her hair might weigh more than the rest of her body.

Apparently, the highest trained fighters (agents) in the world (who have GUNS) never trained for a unskilled, unprepared, 110 lb woman in her 40's with a frying pan.

Family & Corona

Tyrese and Luda are always funny, but their act is growing a bit thin. It actually felt like an act this time around. I think it's time to add another black man in the mix; perhaps one who's older than they are... TRACY MORGAN?

Throw an OG in there and it'll freshen things up again. I do like though how Tyrese is starting to suspect that they might be immortals. I think they should test that theory out in the next movie; maybe have Tyrese break the fourth wall, kinda like Deadpool, as he realizes this is just a dumbass movie.

Dom and Letty's kid... terrible. I'm sorry! This is a bias of mine, but kids normally suck at acting. This one is no exception. Just get an older actor to play the young kid. I'm thinking Ryan Reynolds would have been a good choice.

You may be saying "that's absurd!" - I'm glad that y'all can still tell what that word means, cuz I can't.

The rest of the chemistry family magic is great!

Oh, and Cardi is here, but... barely (for like 30 seconds, if that). 

No rapping, no wapping, no cursing... kind of a waste of Cardi B, if you ask me.

John Cena aka Jakob with a K!

Meh. JC def has charisma, just not in this movie. He doesn't stand out at all. You know?? - The Rock, Jason Statham, Charlize Theron, etc all have a presence about them in this franchise. Cena?! what happened, buddy?

There are certain music artists whom you'd think would have a great personality based off their music and how they dress. But, then you meet them, and you realize that they're just normal bozos like you and I (only rich and famous). And normal bozos like you and I, AT TIMES can be boring. You gotta have some flair if you're not going to have personality. Give my man some pink glittery highlights, a face tat, some vampire teeth, and maybe a chainsaw for his left arm or something.

Grade: Good action. The absurdities were funny. I was entertained! Production was great! BUT it's getting tired, my friends. It's the same formula that I've mentioned and then, like always, they're grilling and drinking Corona's in the sun. After nine movies (with at least two more on the way)... I never thought I'd say this, but it's actually not absurd enough. Wait... I seriously can't believe I just said that.

I need to say that again to know it's real.

This movie wasn't absurd.. enough? ENOUGH. IT WASN'T! They're going to need to step it up for the next two.

They were in space, but not for long. They raced for the most part in regular cars (regular for them). . You only brought ONE person back from the dead??! C'mon! We can do better.

I'm giving it an entertaining C+

I like that we saw different younger Dom's (during flashbacks) through time. I think that the next type of vehicle they bust out should be a DeLorean.

Y'all feel me?? TIME TRAVEL, baby! 

Vin and the gang race through time! They can have Tracy Morgan. They'll each have a younger version (or older) of themselves join the group. Cardi B will actually do something this time - maybe turn into a car! 

And maybe Cable shows up as they tie it to Marvel.

Think bigger, Vin!

[au10]

Eastwood

So I watched all the westerns by Eastwood. Below you’ll find my list of what I’d say are his best to not necessarily worst just not great. Keep in mind that this list is just my opinion and yours very well may differ and hey that’s great. Also keep in mind there will be spoilers but to be fair the majority of these movies are older than me. I would also like to point out that I didn’t view Rawhide as I really didn’t seem like something I’d like. The list is as best as I can tell are all of his westerns. Some are kind of iffy as I don’t consider them a western. 

http://most-wanted-western-movies.com/clint-eastwood-westerns/

1.”Unforgiven” 1992

 My original pick was going to be “For a Few dollars more”. I re-watched Unforgiven again and have decided that Unforgiven is his best western. Made in 1992. It features Morgan Freeman, Gene Hackman and Richard Harris. There might even be more stars but those are the ones that stood out to me. The plot basically goes like this. William Munny a ruthless killer back in the day settles down with a woman who changes his life. He gave up his killer ways. The wife is already dead when the movie starts and Munny stays on the good path for lack of better phrasing. I don’t want to spoil to much more but needless to say a large bounty put on some ruffians leads to some nice action. 

I love the soundtrack to this movie. Well at least one song in particular and that’s Claudia’s theme. You can YouTube if you wish. I think it’s really great. 

A couple of quotes that I enjoyed. 

“ I've killed women and children. I've killed everything that walks or crawls at one time or another. And I'm here to kill you, Little Bill, for what you done to Ned”

.”It's a hell of a thing, killing a man. You take away all he's got and all he's ever gonna have.“

2. “For a few dollars more” 1965

 This is the sequel to a “Fistful of dollars”. It’s part of the famous dollar trilogy movies. Made in 1965 Eastwood portrays the man with no name. I really like  Lee Van Cleef as Col. Douglas Mortimer. It’s a revenge type of western. Both Cleef and Eastwood characters are pretty much bounty hunters. Cleef has an entirely different motive for his actions though. They seem to have great chemistry together too. I also like the dialogue between them as well. Clint Eastwood's character calls Lee Van Cleef's character "old man", while Van Cleef's character calls Eastwood "boy". Once more I love the music plays when the pocket watch is opened up. 

3.” A fist full of dollars.” 1964  

The beginning if you will of the the man with no name trilogy or dollars trilogy which ever you prefer. The dollars trilogy is what you call a spaghetti western. “ Spaghetti westerns were not rated highly due to their low budgets, over the top violence and inferior art work. But, these Spaghetti Westerns changed that perception forever. Director Sergio Leone gave one after another hit and this trilogy made Clint Eastwood a mega star. “ Some people don’t like them or they find them to corny. Each to their own. I loved the movies. My father pointed out to me one of the things that bugged him was the constant camera cuts to the other characters in the film. It especially focuses on their eyes. I never noticed it until he pointed it out. I do love the scene where he confronts the bullies/bad guys. On his way to them. He passes by the undertaker and tells him to get three coffins ready. After the shootout he passes back by the undertaker and tells him my mistake 4 coffins.

4. “The Good, The bad and the Ugly.” 1966 

The last of the dollars trilogy. A lot of people will say that this is the best of the three movies. Like the previous  film it also stars Lee Van Cleef. This time though he is one of the villain’s. It’s a good movie. I enjoyed  Eli Wallach as Tuco. Once more you have the music on point with  The Ecstasy of Gold. I heard that song years earlier when Metallica would use it. My last thought on this trilogy is I do love how Eastwood is always smoking those little cigars. I have read though he actually hated them.

“ You see, in this world there's two kinds of people, my friend: Those with loaded guns and those who dig. You dig. “

5. “Two Mules for Sister Sara” 1970

This one is a film I really liked. It doesn’t seem to be as serious as the previous I’ve listed above. It actually has quite a few comedic moments in it. I think one of the best parts of the movie is after Hogan (Eastwood) saves Sara from impending doom. She gets dressed and comes back out in her nun gear. Once Hogan realizes she is a known his expression is great then he exclaims “Jesus Christ”. I noticed this movie had blood in it. A lot of the earlier ones don’t. One guy gets his arm cut off and one takes a machete to the face. It’s a good movie and I enjoyed it. I should note the soundtrack or at least one song they play over at times in the film is a play on the title. It sounds like a mule actually braying. Pretty nifty. 

6. “Pale Rider” 1985

Another good movie. Eastwood is just known as the preacher in this movie. He helps out a prospect town from becoming a mining town. When the prospectors will not give up their land. A marshal and his deputies are sent in to get prospectors out. It’s hinted at that the marshal may know the preacher form the way he reacts after told his description. This is definitely one of my favorites though. It does get a little weird with the preacher having intercourse with a guy’s girlfriend. The action is great though. It should be noted that it’s been told that Eastwood’s charter is a ghost in this film. Richard Kiel is in this movie as well. He is a well established actor. Most likely known for playing Jaws in Moonraker. 

7. Outlaw Josey wales 1976

A lot of people like this movie. It’s Eastwoods only PG rated western. It’s once more a revenge type western. Josey’s family is murdered by the Union army and he joins a confederate group to get his revenge. I think one of the best parts in the movie is when Josey shoots the rope holding a ferry going across the river. Some of the Union soldiers horses fall into the river preventing them from reaching Wales. This movie is said to be George Strait’s favorite. I did find it funny that the old man in charge of the ferry was playing to both sides. If you were a Confederate he would sing “Dixie” if you were a Union solider he would sing “Battle hymn of the republic” Ever the opportunist I suppose. 

"Well Mr. Carpetbagger, we got something in this territory called a Missoura boat ride!"

"Well are ya' gonna pull those pistols or whistle Dixie?"

8.”High plains drifter” 1973

This movie could be almost a part of the man with no name trilogy. It’s just not as good. I liked the midget character named Mordecai . He is one of the best in the movie and funny. This is one of the movies where it’s possible that the stranger (Eastwood’s character) could be a ghost. Some people say he is the sheriff’s brother. Eastwood has said that himself. Then again some people say he is the ghost of the sheriff himself. It’s up to the viewer and how you choose to interpret it. This movie also marks the first movie Eastwood directed that was a western.

“You're going to look pretty silly with that knife sticking out of your ass.“

9. “Hang’em High” 1968

This was Eastwoods first major role in America. The Dollars trilogy had yet to come out over here in America. Jed  (Eastwoods character) is wrongfully hanged by a posse. He naturally seeks revenge after being rescued. He becomes a Marshal and winds up bringing some of the posse to justice. It also stars Pat Hingle. I really only know him from Tim Burton’s Batman. He played Commissioner Gordon. 

10. “Joe Kidd” 1972

To be honest with you this movie really doesn’t do anything for me at all. It’s not a bad movie but it’s not one that really captivates me either. It stars Robert Duvall as a rich/wealthy landowner trying to push Mexicans off of their land. He hires Eastwood’s character named Joe Kidd. It does have some decent moments. A pretty cool scene shows Kidd taking out a gunman upon a rock. The final fight is also pretty neat where Kidd drives a train through the bar.

Honorable Mentions: 

1.”Bronco Billy” 1980

This movie was on the list and I viewed it. I liked it. Eastwood plays a carnival showman. It’s your typical story of guy and girl don’t get along. Then as the movie progresses they start to get along and wind up with one another. It’s not a western but it has the theme. It does have  Scatman Crothers in it as Doc. Throw in a crooked lawyer and a crooked husband and this is the movie you have. 

2. “Paint your wagon” 1969 

This set during the gold rush. It is a musical though and you can get the soundtrack on itunes. I heard about this movie from The Simpsons years ago. It doesn’t have a western feel to me. Eastwood plays Pardner. It’s a cool little musical. It’s an interesting movie though. A Mormon has two wives and he sells one. Well Pardner and his partner Ben rum son played by Lee Marvin buys her. Elizabeth the wife that was purchased basically has two husbands. It’s really a good movie. My favorite song being “Wand’rin Star”

3. “The Beguiled” 1971

They had this movie on the list and there again I witched it. It’s certainly not a western. It’s okay. Eastwood kind of plays a bad guy in it but only to survive. Set in the Civil War era. He is an injured Union solider rescued by a little girl. She takes him to an all girls school. It should be noted that this is the only movie in which a character portrayed by Eastwood dies. 

[365days365movies]

February 2, 2021: Pretty Woman (1990)

ALL RISE FOR THE KING AND QUEEN OF ROMANCIA!

First, we bow to the Actor King of Romancia, Richard Gere. Gere is a DYNAMO of romantic movies, having starred in The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, American Gigolo, An Officer and a Gentleman, Sommersby, Autumn in New York, Chicago, Shall We Dance?, Runaway Bride, and of course, Pretty Woman. He was crowned king of this fictionation both because of his film prowess, and because DUDE HAS DATED A LOT OF FAMOUS PEOPLE GODDAMN

Second, we bow to the Actress Queen of Romancia, Julia Roberts.

Roberts’ resume is equally romantic, including films such as Notting Hill, My Best Friend’s Wedding, Eat Pray Love, Steel Magnolias, Mystic Pizza, Runaway Bride, and of course, Pretty Woman. She was crowned queen of this fictionation because, I mean...it’s Julia Roberts, man. Who else was gonna be queen, Meg Ryan? She’s too busy ruling the Holy Romance Empire.

Yes. Yes, I will be visiting the Holy Romance Empire soon.

Anyway, one of the advisors to this great land was the now sadly passed Garry Marshall, a seasoned romantic movie director, responsible for The Princess Diaries (and its terrible sequel), Beaches, Runaway Bride (shit, should I watch this one?), and those bad holiday romance movies from the late 2000′s. You know, Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve, Mother’s Day? Yeah, that’s the guy.

Marshall was appointed an advisor of Romancia because of his role as director of the film...you know.

Enough navel-gazing; let’s get into Pretty Woman, shall we? I, for one, am looking forward to venturing further into the land of Romancia! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start at a party where...George Costanza?

Huh! Phil Stuckey (Jason Alexander), a lawyer and kind of an asshole, is romancing women at a party, held on the behalf of Edward Lewis (Richard Gere), a businessman from New York. However, he’s currently in California away from his unhappy girlfriend back east, who’s feeling a tad neglected by the constantly busy Edward.

Meanwhile, on a less-than-great side of town lives Vivian Ward (Julia Roberts), a prostitute working the mean streets of Hollywood. Making her way to the red-light district, she enters the Blue Banana Club (which is...a name, that’s for sure), where she finds her roommate Kit De Luca (Laura San Giacomo). Laura’s unfortunately spent their rent on drugs, during the height of the cocaine epidemic in Hollywood.

The two meet each other on the street, where Edward’s lost, and struggling with Phil’s stick-shift Lotus Espirit. She offers to give him directions for money, and he reluctantly accepts. She gets in, and guides him back to his hotel. As he struggles to drive, she displays her knowledge of cars from back home. He then offers to drive the car for him, and also shows her prowess as a driver. Which...is pretty neat.

He asks how much she makes in her profession, as the two roll up to his hotel. As they begin to part ways, he asks her instead to accompany him into the hotel. She’s about as charmed and gawky as I would be going into a sick-ass hotel like that. The elevator in it has a FUCKING SOFA INSIDE, YES PLEASE

Edward’s a little embarrassed by her gawking, but they quickly get past it. Edward’s graveyard-still complacency is contrasted by her manic pixie energy. Not that she’s a manic pixie dream girl...I think. It’s more of a “rock-and-balloon” relationship deal. When Vivian busts out the condoms (she’s a “safety-girl”), Edward instead says he wants to “talk.”

During this talk, it’s revealed that his girlfriend has officially broken up with him, leaving him conspicuously single. He asks if she can stay the entire night, and she agrees for a price, to which he gladly agrees. They spend the night getting to know each other, although Edward is doing business during much of it. And she’s watching TV, and it gives off these kinda weird daddy-daughter vibes (not kink-shaming, mind you), and it’s...mildly uncomfortable.

This quickly progresses into her beginning to seduce him, and the two presumably have sex. We cut away just before anything happens, though. Afterwards, Edward takes a shower, as Vivian falls asleep, taking her wig off for the first time.

The next morning, Edward talks to Phil about an upcoming business purchase, when Vivian walks into the room. He’s ordered breakfast for them. ALL OF THE BREAKFAST. Seriously, everything on the menu. Motherfucker, do you KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE ROOM SERVICE IS? WE GET IT YOU’RE RICH

He reveals just how rich he is, noting that he buys companies on the brink of failure, and then sells pieces of the companies he buys. Vivian equates this to a chop-shop, which seems extremely accurate. On another call, Phil tells him that it would be better if he had a date. And it looks like...he already has one.

Yeah, Phil “hires” Vivian to be his girlfriend for a week. For $3000, she accepts, and I feel just a little icky. And yet...I dunno, we’ll see. He’s doing this purely to avoid romantic attachment, which is a little weird, but understandable? Maybe?

At this point, we get one of the most iconic scenes in the film, as the uptight women at a Rodeo Drive store tell her to leave, like assholes. They’ll get their comeuppance, though. OHHHHHH, THEY’LL get it. This compounds when the hotel manager, Barnard “Barney” Thompson (Héctor Elizondo), questions her presence there. And while it seems that he’s going to kick her out, he actually helps her out with an outfit.

Meanwhile, Edward’s business deal begins to go somewhat south, until Edward takes advantage of GOVERNMENT CORRUPTION. Anyway, Vivian goes to a local department store, where Barney’s friend Bridget (Elinor Donahue) helps her out with a cocktail dress. When she heads back, Barney acts like a bro once again and teaches her proper etiquette, Emily Post style.

Edward heads back to the hotel, where Vivian is waiting for him. And she looks cuuuuuuuuuuute. Edward thinks so, too, and they head to the corporate dinner. There waitselderly businessman James Morse (Ralph Bellamy), and his grandson David (Alex Hyde-White). We get a taste of just how vicious of a businessman Edward is, and Vivian makes a much better impression on the Morses than Edward does. Also, Eddie’s kind of a sociopath, huh? Or, at least, he has some sociopathic tendencies. I dunno his pure emotionlessness is rubbing me a weird way.

After the dinner goes VIOLENTLY south, the two begin to relate to each other a bit more. He notes that he prefers not to bring emotion into business, although he apparently does like Mr. Morse. He also notes that his father died a month ago, but it doesn’t appear to affect him much. Still he heads downstairs to get some air. Later, Vivian gets the bellhop, Dennis (Patrick Richwood) to help her find him, and she does. He’s playing piano like a GODDAMN MANIAC HOLY SHIT! Just like, “Don’t mind me, I’m just playing an operetta to PUT THE KNIFE FEELINGS TO SLEEP IAMTHEZODIACKILLER.” This manic performance is followed by the two just...fuckin’ on the piano. They just FUCK IN THE LOUNGE RIGHT ON THAT PIANO JESUS CHRIST GUYS

The next morning, post-musex, they go to get outfits together, in which Gere buys a massive set of outfits, and we get the first makeover montage this month! He also flashes even more sociopathic flair with a clothing store owner, goddamn. And that’s...when we get the song.

I mean, we had to get this song in here at some point, right? She also engages in the most iconically HUGE moment of the film. You know what I’m talking about, and it’s beautifully cathartic, my Lord.

Meanwhile, at work, Edward’s starting to...lose it, I guess? As Phil’s encouraging him to close in on Morse for the kill, Edward’s beginning to grow a heart. And may I note that he’s been in this relationship for TWO DAYS. Jesus, buddy, you’ve really never had a meaningful relationship, huh? They eventually go to a polo match for business reasons, here Phil finally meets Vivian. Vivian also notices that none of the high-society people here seem like, well...friends.

Turns out that David Morse is one of the polo players, and Vivian starts to speak with him. Phil, meanwhile, notices this, and suspects her of being a corporate spy. And Edward, like an ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE, tells her that Vivian’s a prostitute. Phil LITERALLY IMMEDIATELY GOES AFTER HER, and solicits her like a fucking CREEP.

This obviously very much upsets her, and she chews Edward out back at the hotel. And the argument that follows IMMEDIATELY puts me on Vivian’s side, because Edward’s being a sociopathic douchenozzle. Goddamn. She rightfully wants to leave, and he just lets her. And here’s the real kicker; she doesn’t take the money.

And that’s when Edward sincerely apologizes to her, as best as he can. And yeah, he’s a little sociopathic, but I can see that the dude is trying? The two make up, and once again open up to each other. Edward starts to realize, in turn, that he legitimately has feelings for her. And we head into the third act of the film.

The next day, Edward leaves work early to go on a date with Vivian, and Phil asks if the date is with “the hooker.” And Edwards flashes him a look that’s just...knifey. I’m still not convinced he isn’t the Zodiac Killer. He takes her to an opera in San Francisco, before which we get this scene.

Adorable. God, I love Vivian. Also Dennis and Barney are the best, and they’re super fucking invested, and I am HERE for it. Their date to the opera is...sublime. Understand, my girlfriend and I watched this entire film together, and we’re both in love with Vivian and the opera after it. Imma take her to the opera on a date one of these days, I swear it.

That night, they play chess together, and Edward actually takes the following day off. He also actually sleeps in a bed for once, instead of going to work. And this is when my girlfriend the following phrase:

Is he sculpting her, or is she sculpting him?

OK, that fantastic question is one of the reasons we’re together, but also a very interesting point. Lemme explain here. This is very much a Pygmalion story in a few ways. While not a straight adaptation by any means, this film is definitely taking a few ideas from the Pygmalion trope. See, if you don’t know, Pygmalion’s a Greek myth about a sculptor who falls in love with his statue. It’s been adapted multiple times throughout the history of the arts, but the most prominent version of this was the stage musical My Fair Lady, famously adapted into a film starring Audrey Hepburn in 1964.

And again, a lot of adaptations of that, too. While Pretty Woman isn’t explicitly an adaptation of either work, the themes are still present in the work. So, yeah, it’s a good point. In this version, she’s changing him as much as he’s changing her. The sculpture is sculpting the sculptor. Which is cool.

And then, as we had that cute little revelation, Vivian tells Edward that she loves him. And OH FUCK. It’s the last day. And when he says he doesn’t want this to be the last of them together, she takes it as romantic. But when he essentially proposes making her a beck-and-call girl, putting her up in an apartment and hooking her up with dresses...she’s understandably not interested. She says that, as a little girl, she dreamed of a white knight that would sweep her off her feet and take her away. But Edward isn’t that knight.

Have I mentioned how much I love Vivian? Because Vivian’s fuckin’ fantastic, Jesus Christ.

Edward decides to leave, and says that he’s done all he can at this point. He leaves, and she’s shattered. Kit, meanwhile, comes to visit her at the hotel, and she admits that she��s fallen in love with him. While Kit’s initially worried about it, she says that they could maybe settle down and buy some diamonds and a horse. I also love Kit.

Meanwhile, at the meeting with Mr. Morse, Edward turns the tables on Phil and his yes-men, and asks to speak with Mr. Morse alone. Phil’s gobsmacked by this, but agrees. Once they’re alone, Edward admits that he no longer wishes to buy his company and destroy it. Instead, he wants to help him rebuild his company. And Morse agrees, telling Edward that he’s proud of him.

Phil, EXTREMELY irritated by this, and decided to make his way to talk to Edward at the hotel. And that’s when he finds Vivian. FUUUUUUUUCK. As expected, Phil tries to r*pe her, and that’s when Edward shows up, and BEATS THE FUCK OUT OF HIM.

Edward tells Phil off, calling him an EVEN BIGGER sociopath than he is, and kicks him out. Friendship ended with Phil. Now Vivian is his best friend. But despite this, Vivian still realizes that their relationship, at least the one she wants, seems impossible. Conceding, and on his way back to New York now, Edward pays her, and tells her to call him if she ever needs anything. 

But he asks her to stay one more night with him, not because of money...BUT BECAUSE OF LOVE. And she replies that she can’t...and they part ways. Vivian goes to say goodbye to Barney, who still rules. He calls a cab for her, and says that she can visit them anytime. My girlfriend says that she would leave me for Barney, and I agree. I agree so much, because she deserves the best, and the best is Barney, and I could never BE Barney. 

I could never be Barney.

It’s over now, as the song in the background says, and Edward laments his lost relationship as the thunder rolls in. Vivian decides to finally go to San Francisco, and finish high school, inspired by Edward’s love and faith for her. She passes that faith onto Kit as she says goodbye. Fuuuuuuck, man, this goodbye hurts as well.

Edward goes to the lobby, and talks to Barney one last time. AND BARNEY TELLS EDWARD WHERE VIVIAN WENT, LIKE A GODDAMN CHAMPION. WHY CAN’T I BE AS PERFECT AS BARNEY????

He makes his way to her apartment, and buys flowers from a woman with a Cockney accent, WHICH IS A MY FAIR LADY REFERNCE! HOLY SHIT! He arrives in a white limo at her place, overcomes his fear of heights and climbs a fire escape in a metaphorical tower to rescue his princess. 

THAT’S HOLLYWOOD, BABY! And it’s Pretty Woman as well. That was a very heartwarming film, and I’m very glad that I watched it! Is it perfect? Ehhhhhhhh, see you at the Review.

[aion-rsa]

Clark Gable and His WW2 Death Wish

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Clark Gable did not intend to see action when World War II came to America. Which is not to say he ignored the war. Gable was there that day in 1940 when President Franklin Roosevelt gave his famous “Arsenal of Democracy” speech from the Oval Office. And, indeed, the first thing the movie star did when he heard about the Pearl Harbor attack was cable FDR to offer his full support—and, tellingly, the besieged president promptly answered right back.

But then in the 1930s and early ‘40s, Gable was “the King of Hollywood;” the reigning movie star who could sell more tickets than anybody this side of Shirley Temple, and he didn’t have to sing or dance to do it either. He was a mustachioed and muscular alpha who appealed to everybody, even presidents, and was one of the few leading men who would tell Louis B. Mayer no (at least until casting for Gone with the Wind came along). The government saw the value in that kind of celebrity when the dark storm clouds of war gathered over Europe and the South Pacific, and so did Gable. Still, he was practically 41 when the bombs fell in Hawaii and more than happy to support the war from afar.

As he told fellow MGM stablemate Jimmy Stewart at the latter’s going away party in 1940—Stewart had just happily joined the Army—“You know you’re throwing away your career, don’t you?” When Stewart answered yes, Gable added, “You won’t catch me doing that, but I wish you godspeed.”

Gable had success, Gable had power, and for the first time in his four decades on this earth, Gable had something approaching peace thanks to his marriage to Carole Lombard, the firecracker screwball star. Yet in less than a year, all of those things turned to ash following Lombard’s violent death. When her plane went down in a fiery blaze, it was treated as a national tragedy around the country, and for her husband it was the beginning of the end.

The King became broken, despondent, and finally disillusioned enough to enlist in the U.S. Army Air Corps. To this day, some say he went to Europe with a death wish, and on at least one bombing raid, Capt. Gable almost had it granted as a Luftwaffe shell passed right between his feet.

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard posing for photographers shortly after their marriage in 1939.

The King and Queen of Hollywood

Women were always easy for Clark Gable, and for a time so were wives. The first Mrs. Gable was Josephine Dillon, 17 years his senior, and she was introduced to him as an acting coach by another woman who was his then-fiancée. As a handsome, if unrefined son of an Ohioan farmer, the 23-year-old Gable was perfect clay for Dillon. She turned him into her greatest student, teaching him how to lower his voice and hold your attention. As his patron and wife, Dillon also introduced Gable to all her Broadway connections and the adjacent stock companies. It was even as the star of one of those companies that he met Maria Langham, a wealthy widow and oil heiress who was also 17 years his senior. 

As the second Mrs. Gable, Ria introduced Gable to Manhattan’s high society and exquisite living, teaching him social etiquette and the value of a finely tailored tuxedo. One wife taught him how to play at being an actor, and the other taught him how to play at being a gentleman. They served their purposes and they were both brushed off.

But Lombard? He couldn’t brush her off ever.

The first time Clark met Carole, it was a surprisingly chaste affair. The two were cast as the leads of 1932’s No Man of Her Own. Unlike many of his leading ladies in the 1930s, Gable made no passes at Lombard, who was married to movie star William Powell at the time and intended to remain that way. Nevertheless, they hit it off, as the breathlessly quick-witted Lombard did with almost everyone.

Gable wasn’t yet “the King of Hollywood” then, but he was well on his way. Two years later, he’d star in the film that popularized screwball comedies, It Happened One Night (1934), which won him an Oscar for Best Actor, and two years after that he would lead the granddaddy of all disaster movies, San Francisco (1936). By ’38, he was already Tinseltown royalty when then-gossip columnist Ed Sullivan overheard Gable’s drinking buddy and sometime-rival, Spencer Tracy, affectionately refer to him as “King.” Sullivan immediately lit upon the idea of holding a national poll for the “King and Queen of Hollywood.”

More than 20 million people voted and, by a huge majority, Gable was crowned “King” for the rest of his career. Meanwhile, Myrna Loy was elected “Queen of Hollywood.” The fact they were then filming MGM’s Test Pilot (with Tracy) certainly suggests the results might’ve been tampered with. It also likely struck Loy as ironic since her first encounter with Gable ended with her pushing him into a hedge bush after he drunkenly bit the back of her neck while his second wife, Ria, was sitting in a nearby car. Gable refused for years to talk to Loy socially after that rejection, including between takes on film sets.

So yes, the King was a womanizer—complete with a secret baby born out of wedlock to co-star Loretta Young—in a sham marriage at the beginning of his reign. But things began changing when he finally ran into Lombard again, and at last he found his matching monarch.

It was at the White Ball in 1936 that the pair’s paths crossed a second time. By now, Clark was fully estranged from Ria, and the two lived in separate houses. Lombard, meanwhile, had risen to her own stardom by bringing her transgressive life-of-the-party persona to recent screwball comedies directed by Howard Hawks and Ernst Lubitsch. Vivacious, whip smart, and an eventual inspiration for Marion Ravenwood in Raiders of the Lost Ark, Lombard was a hard-drinking and giddy star with her own orbit.

According to Clark Gable: A Biography by Warren G. Harris, when Gable saw Lombard on the dance floor, he went up and said, “I go for you, Ma.” After a moment’s confusion, Lombard realized he was quoting their characters’ nicknames for each other in No Man of Her Own from four years earlier. She responded, “I go for you too, Pa.”

For the rest of their lives, they’d always refer to each other as “Ma” and “Pa.”

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard play with horses at the Encino ranch in 1939.

The Love of His Life

That first night on the dance floor actually ended in the pair’s first of many fights. But in a trick that would come to define the pattern of their relationship, Gable woke up the next morning in his hotel room with two doves sitting on his chest. They’d been secreted there with a note on one’s leg: “How about it? Carole.” 

Unlike Gable’s other romantic entanglements, Lombard always controlled the tone and tempo of their courtship while Gable offered Lombard an escape from the glamour goddess, society girl image she’d molded herself to in Hollywood. She was an athlete growing up and, alongside Pa, she picked up outdoor-living again.

Clark taught Carole rifling, skeet-shooting, and camping. In ’38, she joined what had up to that point been Gable’s all-male hunting club with fellow actors and Hollywood talent. When the other men complained about a woman being present and sharing their bathroom, she brought along her own trailer with a private bathroom—taunting Clark and the others by then keeping him out. She crawled in the mud next to the dudes, and would soon be on all of the Gables’ hunting trips.

The pair eloped in ’39 after three years of courtship. This occurred in large part because Photoplay magazine revealed the two were living in sin (Gable was still married and too chintzy to get a divorce). Shortly after the embarrassment, however, Gable paid off his second wife and Lombard became the third Mrs. Gable.

“I just think of that husband of mine all the time,” Lombard once said with her usual candor. “I’m really stuck on the bastard. And it isn’t all that great lover crap, because if you want to know the truth, I’ve had better. No, I’m nuts about him and not just about his nuts.”

When the two moved into their Encino ranch, Gable made his gun collection the centerpiece when you walked in the front door, and Lombard began raising chickens and cattle. It was about as far from Beverly Hills as you could get, or as Lombard enthused, “The best little shit house in the San Fernando Valley.”

It was here that Lombard planned to soon retire, beginning with a one-year sabbatical in an effort to have children. Yet after a year of trying, they only had two miscarriages to show for it. They agreed to keep trying, but they’d soon run out of chances.

Clark Gable and wife Carole Lombard circa 1940.

The Loss of His Life

When the bombs fell in Pearl Harbor, it was Carole who urged Clark to telegraph Roosevelt as soon as possible. She was also in the White House for the president’s fireside chat in 1940. And unlike Gable, she was furious when the president responded, “You are needed where you are.”

With the war finally here, Lombard urged Gable to join the Army in December 1941 while she hoped to join the Red Cross. For Christmas, instead of her usual lavish presents she sent all her friends engravings announcing she’d made a donation to the Red Cross in their name. And when she got wind of MGM publicity chief Howard Strickling trying to position Gable for a safe desk job in Washington D.C. for the course of the war, she told both men, “The last thing I want for Pappy is one of those phony commissions!”

Gable preferred helping the war where FDR told him he should—from the comfort of Hollywood. On Dec. 22, 1941, he presided over the first meeting of the Screen Actors Division of the Hollywood Victory Committee as its newly appointed chairman. The committee functioned as a way for Hollywood stars and leaders to organize all activities in support of the war effort. His wife was the first at the meeting to pledge her cooperation in donations, bond rallies, and touring the troops.

When a request came from the Treasury Department for the Victory Committee to launch Indiana’s participation in the national campaign of selling war bonds on Jan. 15, 1942, Gable recognized his Indiana-born wife as the perfect talent to send along. Carole was thrilled to go, although apprehensive about leaving Clark behind.

Gable couldn’t join his wife on her journey by train because he was about to start work on Somewhere I’ll Find You: his second film with Lana Turner. Up until then, Carole had been very open-minded about Gable’s continued infidelities and little affairs, even after they were married. She turned a blind eye to more than one rumor of him sleeping with a co-star here, or a starstruck journalist there, because she assumed you had to let Clark Gable be Clark Gable. But she drew the line over rumors about Clark and Lana, the latter of whom was infamously dubbed the “Sweater Girl” when she was discovered at a soda fountain at age 16. Blonde and buxom, Turner was 20-years-old when she first worked with the 40-year-old Gable. These stories did get to Lombard.

The evening before she left for Indiana, the couple had a huge blowout during which Clark failed to convince his wife he never slept with Lana Turner. The last night Gable and Lombard were under the same roof, they slept in different beds. The next morning, he did not see his wife off to the train station.

As with many of their fights, things cooled almost immediately. Before she left, Lombard still delivered a pack of handwritten love letters to her live-in secretary Jean Garceau to deliver to Clark, one at a time, everyday she was away. She also had the prank she planned before their fight still be delivered, so when Gable returned home from work that night he found a naked blonde dummy in his bed with a note. “So you won’t be lonely.” Gable reportedly laughed until he had tears in his eyes.

According to Garceau when the two talked by phone the next night, they sounded like “lovebirds” again. And according to the You Must Remember This podcast, Gable had Carole’s hotel room in Indianapolis be covered in red roses when she got in. But before even then, Lombard’s train stopped in Salt Lake City where she saw the troops marching and immediately telegraphed her husband, “HEY PAPPY, YOU’D BETTER GET INTO THIS MAN’S ARMY.”

On Jan. 15, Lombard intended to raise $500,000 in war bonds. Instead, she raised over $2 million. Afterward, she was so eager to get home to Gable following their fight that she decided she’d fly back to California instead of returning by train. This was expressly forbidden by the Treasury Department. Commercial travel was still relatively dicey, and they feared she’d be a target for Nazi saboteurs. Additionally, she was traveling with her mother Elizabeth Peters, a superstitious woman who’d never flown and was deathly afraid to start now. She was also there with Otto Winkler, Gable’s publicist and buddy who was best man at their wedding.

The morning their flight was to leave Indianapolis, Otto got Carole to at least agree to a coin toss. Heads they fly, tails they take the train. Carole won. From Indianapolis, they would make multiple stops, including Wichita, Albuquerque, and Las Vegas. TWA Flight Number 3 never reached Burbank.

That night Gable arranged a surprise party to welcome the three heroes back—as well as a surprise male dummy with an erection waiting for Carole upstairs. He was reportedly giddy waiting for the phone call from limo driver Larry Barbier, who was supposed to report when they landed. Instead, Clark got a call from MGM fixer Eddie Mannix.

“Can I get back to you?” Gable asked. “I’m expecting word on Ma’s arrival any minute.”

Mannix cut him off. “King, that’s why I’m calling. Larry Barbier just phoned from the airport. Carole’s plane went down just a few minutes after it left Las Vegas.” She was gone.

Clark Gable stands next to co-pilot Lt. Col. Robert W Burns beneath B-17 “The Duchess” after bombing raid in September 1943.

Clark Gable Goes to War

The fallout from the literal wreckage of Lombard’s flight was national news. A bewildered Gable joined Mannix and other MGM brass for their own chartered flight to Vegas. He could see the burning debris that Lombard’s flight smeared across Table Rock Mountain from the air. Locals in the city described it as “apocalyptic” and like an “inferno.”

Mannix refused to let Gable go on the rescue party climbing the mountain—convincing him Carole, Otto, and Bettie might have survived and were now walking to the city. So the star stayed behind and drank. The next morning, he received a cable from Mannix. “NO SURVIVORS. ALL KILLED INSTANTLY.”

In truth, the bodies of Lombard and everyone else on board had been more or less cremated by the fire after impact. And while Mannix couldn’t be certain, he believed he found what was left of Carole: a decapitated, charred body with a few blonde strands of hair and the remnants of a ruby and diamond pin Gable had given his wife the year before. He never told Clark about what he saw, but brought back the hairs and piece of ruby.

The next day, FDR sent Gable private condolences and publicly awarded Lombard a medal as “the first woman to be killed in action in the defense of her country in its war against the Axis powers.”

The official and (likely) reason for that flight’s crash is it was overloaded with servicemen and movie star luggage, and the pilot failed to see the mountain in front of him, on which all lights had been turned off to preserve wartime power. Although, according to Orson Welles (as per You Must Remember This), Hollywood and government insiders all knew Nazi saboteurs did in fact bring down the plane, and Roosevelt covered it up to prevent a nationwide panic.

In the months that followed, Gable grew quiet and despondent, losing 20 pounds despite drinking untold amounts of Scotch every day. He dined alone for all meals and began wearing a locket with Carole’s hair and ruby remnants within. According to household staff, he rarely slept and stayed up all hours of the night watching 16mm prints of Lombard’s old movies he had sent over (she’d given him the projector as a Christmas present). Now he had time for no woman except the one he lost.

When he discovered MGM was still trying to keep him from being drafted—with the age range now being raised to 45—Gable grew furious. A scriptwriter pal put him in touch with Col. Luke Smith of the Army Air Corps, who told Gable he should consider applying for training as an aerial gunner since it’s one of those jobs no one seems interested in.

“Everybody wants to be a pilot,” Smith told Gable. “Your becoming a gunner would help to glorify the plane crews and the grease monkeys.” Gable made up his mind to enlist in spite of the wrath of MGM head Louis B. Mayer. He also defied the constraints of his age of 41 by passing the physical—save for the need of getting triplicates of his new dentures (Gable had false teeth his whole career).

On Aug. 12, 1942, Gable enlisted into the Army air force. Right beforehand he told Jill Winkler, Otto’s widow, “I’m going in, and I don’t expect to come back, and I don’t really give a hoot whether I do or not.”

Capt. Gable posing for the press with a gunner’s weapon in June 1943.

The Aerial Gunner with a Death Wish

There is still much speculation over whether Gable actually wanted to die in World War II. His superiors eventually reached that conclusion based on his cavalier attitude, and he at least seemed ambivalent about the whole affair. However, it is interesting he joined the air force considering that, after Lombard’s death, he developed a fear of flying for the rest of his life. Following the war, he would always prefer to make his transatlantic crossings by ocean liners instead of planes.

But during the war? Frankly, he didn’t seem to give a damn one way or the other.

Gable’s biggest fear during the whole conflict was his struggle to pass officer’s training in a 90-day course stateside. A high school dropout, Gable was challenged by the academic course work, which he ultimately got around by treating each textbook like a script he needed to memorize.

Once he was an officer (and allowed to grow back his trademark mustache), he seemed in relatively good spirits for the first time in months. Before going overseas, he told Garceau, “I have everything in the world anyone could want, but for one thing. All I really need and want is Ma.”

In April 1943, Gable was shipped off to join the 351st Heavy Bombardment Group in Peterborough, England, about 80 miles north of London. Gable also received an automatic promotion to the rank of captain, although this had as much to do with the heavy losses of Allied officers as it did with Gable’s leadership.

In truth, Gable likely enjoyed playing the part of officer more than he entirely became it. The military loved letting him pose for the press as a gunner with a bombardier’s bullets wrapped around his neck, but that wasn’t his actual job. While Gable did on at least two occasions take on the role of aerial gunner in combat, his official role was as an observational gunner—he was there to pick up the weapons in the side or rear of a B-17 if the gunner operating it was injured or killed (which did happen).

Otherwise, Gable was there because the Army wanted him to film footage they could use as propaganda, glorifying the role of gunners. While in officer’s school, the Army reunited Gable with cinematographer Andy McIntyre, who would become his sidekick and cameraman in the air. And after his graduation, Gable arranged the transfer of his scriptwriting buddy John Lee Mahin, then a lieutenant serving as an instructor in Combat Intelligence, to join them. In all, Gable and McIntyre built a film crew of six men to film the other fliers on B-17 missions. They were called “the Little Hollywood Group.”

More than twice the age of many of the pilots and gunners he flew with, Gable found himself facing heavy skepticism in his early training.

“None of the kids believed he was going to do anything at all,” Mahin recalled in Warren’s Clark Gable biography. “They never thought he was going to expose himself to any kind of danger. They said it was all a lot of bullshit. It really killed Clark that the kids shunned him.”

The brass, however, loved Gable at first. Many of his superiors invited him nearly every night to dinner, an annoyance he’d soon relegate to one evening a week. And while he welcomed the press to photograph him at the planes, he also refused the special treatment of having private quarters set up, which earned him more respect from the young fliers.

He’d also soon prove himself as a member of Col. William Hatcher’s Chickens (a nickname for his bombing group) when he went up in the air on May 4, 1943. Hatcher was onboard the same B-17 that day as group commander and co-pilot; the 351st were tasked with taking out several factories in Nazi-occupied Antwerp, Belgium.

During Gable’s first combat mission, flak from ground defenses took out one of the plane’s four engines and its stabilizer. More unnervingly, after delivering the plane’s payload, a German’s 20mm shell pierced the center of the plane, with the corner of the shell passing through the heel of Gable’s boot—lifting it clean off—and then exiting the aircraft inches above Gable’s head.

On another mission, Gable took over for gunners who were wounded or killed (there was at least one of each that day). Fifteen holes were found in the fuselage. For Gable, such horrors were also a vindication, as he fully won the respect of the kids around him.

“They adored him,” Mahin recalled. “They couldn’t stay away from him. And he was proud that they accepted him.”

Portrait of Capt. Gable after arriving in England in 1943 as part of the the 351st Bombardment Group.

Hitler’s Prize

At Peterborough, Gable grew increasingly chummy with the other fliers serving. He bought a used motorcycle and would make small talk on trips around the base. And on more than a few weekends, he would head to London to screen at MGM offices some of the footage he shot in the air. He also would meet with his pre-war Hollywood chum, David Niven, who was serving as an instructor for British Commandos and had recently married and had a son.

“From then on our cottage became Clark’s refuge from military life,” Niven recalled. “With Carole’s death, he had been dealt the cruelest of blows, but on the surface at least, he was making the best of it. In his own deep misery, he found it possible to rejoice over the great happiness that had come my way, and he became devoted to my little family.”

Niven added, “Clark’s personal wounds seemed to be healing, but Carole was never far from him, and the very happiness of our little group would sometimes overwhelm him. [My wife] found him one evening on an upturned wheelbarrow in the garden, his head in his hands, weeping uncontrollably.”

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Still, Gable seemed to be settling into a new happy rhythm of camaraderie on the base, frequent trips to London, and even playing the field. He renewed an affair with a pre-Lombard paramour in London, the English (and now married with children) Elizabeth Allan. Nonetheless, he may have been enjoying himself too much for his superiors’ liking.

Robert Matzen, author of Mission: Jimmy Stewart and the Fight for Europe and Fireball: Carole Lombard and the Mystery of Flight 3, told me he believed Gable had a death wish.

“Carole Lombard, his wife, wanted him to go fight and she’s killed,” Matzen said. “So he then decides, ‘Alright, I’ll go fight and hopefully I’ll be killed too.’ That’s why he wanted to be in the Eighth Air Force, because he wanted to die in a plane crash.” Also, unlike Stewart, Matzen stressed, Gable never fully adapted to military culture.

Said Matzen, “Gable was much more interested in being Clark Gable in England than Jim Stewart was interested in being Jimmy Stewart in England.” This weighed on the mind of Col. Hatcher, as did the growing understanding that every B-17 Gable was on became a prize for Nazi Germany.

The day the 351st arrived in England, Nazi radio propagandist William Joyce, aka “Lord Haw Haw,” broadcast from Berlin the following: “Welcome to England, Hatcher’s Chickens. Among whom is famous American cinema star, Clark Gable. We’ll be seeing you soon in Germany, Clark. You will be welcome there too.”

Adolf Hitler apparently adored Clark Gable, considering him his favorite American actor. A movie nut with a love for British and Hollywood cinema, Hitler even allegedly smuggled a film print of Gone with the Wind before it opened in the UK. Hitler therefore marked Gable as one of the most prized “war criminals” in the Allied Forces, offering a handsome reward to any German soldiers who can bring Gable to him alive.

The actor was terrified of being paraded through Berlin like King Kong and was only half-joking when he told a friend, “If Hitler catches me, the sonofabitch will put me in a cage like a gorilla and send me on a tour of Germany. If a plane that I’m in ever gets hit, I’m not bailing out.”

While his superiors might’ve appreciated the sentiment, they feared the humiliating spectacle of one of their gunners becoming a Nazi political tool—or the actor putting a bigger target on their bombing group. Additionally, Gable didn’t follow protocol as intended, at one point threatening a military doctor after the physician apparently said nonchalantly that Gable’s pal had hours to live while the young man was awake and listening. And, again, the opinion became that he wanted to be shot down.

So it was in October 1943, after only five combat missions, Capt. Gable was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Air Medal for “exceptionally meritorious achievement while participating in five separate bomber combat missions.” Hatcher apparently pulled the strings to get Gable out.

Clark Gable in 1960 on the set of his last film, The Misfits, with Marilyn Monroe and Montgomery Clift.

The End

Even though Gable’s time in combat ended in October of ’43, he still wound up with 50,000 feet of film at his disposal. He was apparently shocked when he learned the air force really didn’t care what he did with the footage since gunner recruitment was up. So he returned to Los Angeles, having been reassigned to the city’s photographic division. Allowed to cut the film at MGM, Gable put together five short films that could be used for instruction on operating B-17s. But by the time it made its way through the Pentagon’s chain of command… the war was over. The footage mostly still lies unused in government archives.

After finishing the films, Gable had expected to be assigned to a new bombing division in the Pacific Theater. As he waited months for the orders to come in, he found out on the news about the D-Day landing in Europe on June 6, 1944. Feeling forgotten and discarded by the Air Corps, he requested to be discharged on June 12, which was his right as a volunteer over the age of 42. A captain named Ronald Reagan granted Gable his discharge after 670 days of service.

Clark eventually re-acclimated to Hollywood and restarted his career, but by 1945 his days as “the King” were waning, and he saw more flops accompany his diminishing hits. He also had many more affairs with leading ladies, extras, and socialites. But for years he refused to marry, telling friends, “It wouldn’t be fair. I have nothing left to give.”

For the rest of his life, Clark mourned Carole, including on Jan. 15, 1944 when he was on hand for the launch of the SS Carole Lombard. Gable was supposed to speak at the event. Instead, he mostly cried.

Eventually he did remarry, twice, and finally had one child who wasn’t disowned in secret. But after the star died of a heart attack at age 59 in 1960, his fifth wife, Kay Williams, honored his final wishes: Gable was interred at Glendale’s Forest Lawn Memorial Park. Next to Ma.

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