#when i keep saying that the Daniel of now goes racing with so much intent!!

[jungwnies]

f1 grid | southern drawl

୨ৎ : featuring : all drivers on the grid ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by @itscalledastrategyfred) : how the grid reacts to a texan!driver!reader and her southern accent — from flustered blushing to terrible cowboy impressions and a whole lotta “yes, ma’am.” 🤠💬

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 2116

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ 10k event | masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : yall i missed the race cus i fell asleep... am i cooked?

ʚ・red bull

max verstappen

gives you so much shit for your drawl at first.

“did you really just say y’all while threatening me?”

can’t stop smirking whenever you get riled up... especially when you say something like “i swear to god, i’ll whup your ass.”

fully imitates your accent when teasing you... and it’s terrible.

lowkey loves it though. it reminds him of daniel, in a way that’s nostalgic and soft.

once heard you say “darlin’” to someone and just froze for a second like okay, maybe this is the hottest thing alive.

pretends not to care but definitely perks up every time you say something country-coded.

yuki tsunoda

is very confused at first. “why do you sound like a cowboy?”

teases you constantly but in a very you’re my favorite person to annoy way.

starts mimicking your phrases just to make you laugh — “howdy” becomes part of his vocabulary purely to irritate you.

calls you “cowgirl” when you beat him in anything and grumbles when you call him “city boy” back.

secretly adores how unapologetic you are about it. says it makes you sound confident.

would 100% ask you to translate slang and then say it in his best impression just to see you roll your eyes.

ʚ・mercedes

george russell

first time he hears you say “bless your heart,” he panics. “wait… is that… a good thing or not?”

tries to keep it professional but gets flustered when you throw a “yes, sir” his way with that southern sweetness.

definitely raises an eyebrow every time you drop a “y’all” during press, but secretly thinks it’s endearing.

once tried to imitate your accent on live tv and it came out as australian. never lived it down.

thinks it’s hilarious how you say things like “fixin’ to win this race” — quotes it back to you every chance he gets.

might tease you gently, but 100% defends your accent if anyone else makes fun of it. “it’s not weird, it’s hers.”

kimi antonelli

very confused at first but listens so intently whenever you speak — your accent is like a whole new language to him.

starts asking what everything means. “what is… ‘rode hard and put up wet?’”

tries to mimic you saying “howdy” once and instantly turned red when you burst out laughing.

quietly loves the way you talk. it’s soft and warm to him, even if you’re smack-talking.

calls you "texas" like it’s your nickname. “hey, texas. need help with your helmet?”

100% memorizes your slang and starts slipping it into conversations to make you smile.

ʚ・ferrari

charles leclerc

confused the entire first week. just stands there smiling while you say things like “i’m fixin’ to head out” and later quietly asks carlos what it meant.

blushes furiously the first time you call him “darlin’” — tries to play it cool but is visibly short-circuiting.

imitates your accent once during an interview and gets roasted online for how bad it was. “i wasn’t even that bad, right?” you nod slowly, hiding laughter.

starts calling you “cowgirl” in private, just to see you roll your eyes and smile.

says your voice sounds like “sunlight on hot pavement.” he’s a romantic.

lowkey tries to learn country music just to bond with you — gets too into kacey musgraves and now you catch him humming “slow burn” on race days.

lewis hamilton

absolutely obsessed. tells you it’s “the sexiest accent” he’s ever heard.

constantly asking you to say things again, slower this time — just so he can hear it twice.

you say “yes, sir” once and his whole soul leaves his body.

teases you when you get heated and slip into full-blown southern mode, but with the softest grin. “there she goes, my wild southern girl.”

absolutely convinced you two need to do a cowboy-themed photo shoot. insists on wearing the hat too.

ʚ・mclaren

lando norris

the second he hears your accent, he’s already planning impressions.

“well howdy y’all, ah’m fixin’ to win me a lil ol’ race today!” — said in the worst cowboy voice imaginable.

you threaten to fight him. he grins harder.

calls you “ma’am” dramatically and tips invisible hats at you in the paddock. you once slapped him with your water bottle.

has no idea that it’s kind of hot until you call him “sweetheart” mid-argument and he just shuts up entirely.

you catch him watching country tiktoks so he can learn phrases to throw back at you. he says it’s “research.”

may joke nonstop, but the second someone else mocks you? “nah, only i get to call her cowgirl.”

oscar piastri

didn’t expect to fall in love with your accent, but here we are.

says nothing when you speak, just blinks slowly and listens like it’s music.

every now and then you catch him smiling to himself after you say something super southern like “he ain’t got the sense god gave a goose.”

finds your little quirks adorable. “you just said ‘buggy’ instead of shopping cart,” he says softly, grinning.

doesn’t mimic your accent. not even once. too respectful.

will 100% ask you to teach him how to say certain phrases, then casually use them later to make you laugh.

you say “c’mere, sugar” once and he actually blushes. he’s so gone.

ʚ・aston martin

fernando alonso

pretends like he doesn’t care but he’s obsessed with your accent.

the first time you say something like “sugar, that was a rough quali,” he just stares for a second before going, “say it again.”

tries to mimic you with his own spanish accent and ends up sounding like a cowboy in a telenovela.

“how do you say it? y’all? yuhhhll?”

laughs at himself when you make fun of it but still keeps doing it because your eyes light up every time.

secretly loves how fiery you get when you're mad — especially when you let the accent fly. “you gonna kill me, cariño?” he teases.

absolutely calls you "cowgirl" in the most smug voice imaginable.

lance stroll

immediately thinks your accent is the cutest thing alive.

“you sound like a character from a movie. it’s awesome.”

gets super flustered when you call him anything sweet — “baby,” “darlin’,” “honeybun.” it kills him every time.

has a weird little canadian twang himself so when he tries to imitate you, it comes out like “howd-eh y’all.”

you cry laughing. he commits to it anyway.

lowkey loves how different you sound from everyone else — thinks it makes you magnetic.

tries to “cowboy up” next to you in interviews and fails miserably. “we’re a dynamic duo,” he says. “city boy and the wild west.”

ʚ・williams

alex albon

thinks your accent is the best thing ever, and won’t shut up about it.

constantly repeats your phrases back to you in a horrendous mock accent just to make you laugh.

“well shoot, sugar! i reckon we got ourselves a pole!” — said at full volume in the paddock.

you threaten to hit him with your boot. he tells everyone “she threatened me in southern again. it was so hot.”

teases you with names like “rodeo queen” and “yee-haw y/n” but goes feral the first time you call him “sweetheart” on comms.

100% starts saying “y’all” unironically. refuses to admit it.

tells his PR team you’re his “emotional support cowboy.”

carlos sainz

tries to act unfazed like “it’s just an accent” but his eyes go all soft when you call him “darlin’.”

loves hearing you talk — especially when you ramble. just nods along and smiles like he understands every word even when you say things like “that boy ain’t right.”

calls you mi vaquera under his breath when you walk away.

one time you called him “baby” and he blinked twice, turned red, and muttered “mi vida...” like a reflex.

doesn’t tease, but subtly flirts back in spanish until you’re the one blushing.

quietly practices a southern phrase or two just so he can surprise you later. you catch him whispering “fixin’ to win” before a race and nearly crash your scooter laughing.

ʚ・haas

ollie bearman

absolutely thrilled the first time he hears you speak. grins like a little menace and goes “wait, say that again.”

becomes obsessed with getting you to say weird southern phrases. “wait wait, what’s the one about biscuits and gravy again?”

mimics your accent constantly but in that annoying younger brother way. you threaten him with a tire gun. he laughs harder.

teases you with a fake lasso motion every time you walk into the garage. “woah there, cowgirl.”

once called you “ma’am” in a joking tone and you shot back with “watch your mouth, sugar.” he shut up immediately.

genuinely adores it though. thinks you’re the coolest person alive.

starts picking up your slang accidentally. pr catches him saying “fixin’ to” in an interview. he panics.

esteban ocon

acts completely unbothered at first. nods politely while you talk, no visible reaction.

but he’s so internally flustered.

one day you say “yes, sir” in that sweet, drawling tone and he just stands there blinking like you short-circuited his brain.

asks pierre what certain things mean later in private. “what’s a ‘hoot and a half’?”

doesn’t tease, but is very intrigued. tells people he likes how “unique” you sound.

once tried to say “howdy” as a joke but it came out awkward and overly French. he never attempted it again.

secretly loves when you call him something soft in that accent. might not say much, but his smile says everything.

ʚ・racing bulls

liam lawson

pretends to be unbothered but he’s fully gone the first time you say “darlin’.”

literally pauses mid-sentence when you call him “sweetheart” like… yeah. that’s it. you’ve got him.

teases you gently, but it’s always with heart eyes. “you really gonna charm everyone with that voice, huh?”

obsessed with how passionate you sound when you’re fired up. just lets you rant and watches, smiling like an idiot.

tells everyone “i don’t get the hype” and then immediately melts when you rest your boots on his lap.

absolutely wants you to teach him how to two-step. “for educational reasons.”

isack hadjar

chaos incarnate. tries to mimic your accent constantly and fails in the funniest ways.

“whatchu doin’, sugarplum?” he says. you throw a wrench at him. he ducks and cackles.

you start mimicking his french accent right back. “ohhh la la, baguette!”

you two are just rude to each other and completely in love about it.

insists on calling you “sheriff” like it’s your job title. even salutes you sometimes.

if you ever call him “baby” or “mon cœur” in your accent, he shuts up immediately.

secretly thinks your voice is the most comforting sound on earth, even when you’re yelling.

ʚ・alpine

pierre gasly

absolutely loses it the first time you call him something soft like “sugar.” full flirty grin, immediately flirting back.

“you keep talkin’ like that and i’m gonna start fallin’ in love, mon amour.”

mimics your accent way too often and does it so dramatically it’s offensive.

“well HAW-DEE Y’ALL,” he says, strutting into the motorhome in your cowboy boots. you throw a towel at him.

turns every southern phrase you say into something scandalous.

“i’m fixin’ to fight you, pierre.”

“please do.”

but when you’re soft? when you call him “darlin’” and it’s not a joke? he’s quiet. maybe even a little breathless.

“don’t stop,” he mumbles. “say it again.”

jack doohan

acts cool at first but the second you hit him with a “yes, sir,” he’s toast.

blinks. stares at the floor. full body flush.

“you alright?”

“yep. yeah. mmhm.”

loves your voice but doesn’t tease. just listens. takes in every word.

gets kind of protective when people joke about your accent. “don’t be weird. it’s just how she talks.”

one time you called him “honeybun” in the middle of a race debrief and he messed up a tire strategy.

definitely the type to lowkey start picking up your phrasing — you catch him saying “reckon” once and he immediately denies it.

“i didn’t say that. you imagined it.”

he 100% said that.

ʚ・kick sauber

nico hulkenberg

pretends he’s unfazed but absolutely notices every time you say something country-coded.

raises an eyebrow and goes “what does that even mean?” but secretly writes it down for later.

makes sarcastic comments like “you gonna ride a horse to the race next?” while absolutely staring when you wear boots to media.

calls you “cowgirl” in the driest voice imaginable but it makes you grin every time.

once heard you say “lord have mercy” under your breath and now repeats it back in a bad drawl just to mess with you.

claims he’s above it, but the second you call him “baby” in a sweet voice, he forgets how to speak.

accidentally got flustered once when you offered to teach him how to line dance. “oh. uh. yeah. maybe.”

gabriel bortoleto

fully enchanted from day one. like… heart-eyes level enchanted.

asks you a million questions. “wait, say that again? what does it mean when you say ‘bless his heart’?”

doesn’t mock, just listens with a little awe in his expression.

is super respectful, always like “you sound really cool” instead of teasing.

lowkey tries to learn southern slang so he can flirt back better.

once called you “sugar” in a heavy brazilian accent and you nearly fainted.

gives you that boyish grin and shrugs like “you started it.”

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[f0point5]

I don’t want to bring up drama but I really want to know if you think the simply lovely thing is big deal or not because people are still talking about it on Twitter and I’m curious about your thoughts

Oh this is going to turn into a think piece lol.

Firstly, no, I don’t think it’s a big deal. I think unless Lando’s wins the next 30 races in a row, no one will ever remember that he once said simply lovely after winning the Dutch gp 2 years from now.

But I do get why people are talking about it now, because it’s yet another low EQ moment for Lando and people love to either hate or defend him to their last breath.

Look, I think it’s pointless to speculate about Lando’s intentions. We don’t know the guy. And that goes for people who think they “get” his humour as much as people who think he’s an ass. No one knows what he was “meaning” to do other than him. And it kind of doesn’t matter imo and here’s why.

If win a race against my friend, who is considered to be one of the best at what we do, who has had a hard time with negative media attention, whose achievement at this very circuit was met with a lot of criticism; if on top of this I am known for being “misunderstood” and “arrogant” and I’m aware that the thing I say get taken out of context…that all being the case, I wouldn’t say “simply lovely”. That is not who I am as a friend or a person, that’s not how I’d want my win to be remembered. A general cognisance of the context would tell me to make a different choice. So for me, regardless of the intention, ew.

I’d also like to point out that if it’s just a joke between friends, maybe say it to the friend who is in on the joke? Because saying “simply lovely, huh” to your race engineer isn’t a thing unless you’re bantering about that with multiple people.

We don’t know what Max thinks about it, and really he might be totally fine about it, or he might be silently seething about it or somewhere in between. Regardless, his and Lando’s relationship is his business. If that’s the company he likes to keep then who tf is anyone to say anything about that?

But we can say for ourselves whether that’s the company we’d keep in his position, or whether we find that distasteful.

As for Daniel stirring it…I said this elsewhere but as an outside viewer I’m glad he stirred it lol. Because I never like to speak when something’s pissed me off in case I look petty but I do like when other people recognise the thing. Maybe Max wouldn’t be impressed by Daniel talking about him and maybe Daniel should have just kept his mouth shut and been a bit more professional. But Daniel would know more about the spirit in which the comment was meant and how it was received than anyone on the internet. Daniel is also pretty close with Lando, he knows the “humour”.

But yeah I guess my final PSA is, even if it was meant as a joke, Max isn’t obliged to find the joke funny. Lando could have meant it with absolutely no negativity and Max could still say “I actually found it rude” and that’s okay. All these people like “oh it was obviously a joke” well maybe not everyone is laughing? We don’t know either way but “it’s a joke” it’s an exoneration in and of itself.

What it all comes down to, for me, is fuck the intention because we don’t know it. To me, the person I am, the fact that twelve seconds after winning your second Grand Prix the first thing that came to your mind was a joke about your friend? That’s the biggest dick ride in history honestly.

Statement made indeed.

[ofstarsandfireflies]

And we’re back at it again! Thought I’d give something different a try this time

Terminator

A robot from the future travels to the past to kill the future’s hope.

Stephen remembered the day Ultron took over the world and killed anyone who tried to rise up against it.

Including the Avengers.

War had broken out between the machines bent on destroying what remained of humanity and the men who could still fight.

Stephen Strange was one of these men.

He and his group of New Avengers had been fighting for years to reclaim the time stone, and today they finally would.

While everyone else would keep Ultron’s Army busy, Wanda and Stephen, the last two magic users left, were tasked with stealing that infinity stone back.

And that was when they stumbled upon the device Ultron had created with it, and watched as Ultron himself stepped through the portal held within.

It had a back up plan.

With this device it could go back and take over the world at any point in time.

With this, Ultron could go as far back as it seemed fit, and as often as it needed, until it won.

They had to destroy it.

And before he could move to, something caught Stephen’s eye.

A photogrpah of Tony Stark.

Ultron had some ulterior motive for going back for Tony Stark and Stephen wanted to know what it was.

He pocketed the photo

The only way he would find out is to get to Tony Stark before Ultron could.

Maybe if he did, this timeline would erase itself, and the world would continue on, protected by the Avengers.

He turned to Wanda.

As soon as he stepped through, she would need to destroy the stone so it could no longer be used.

Ultron can’t use it to go back again.

And Stephen can’t use it to come back again.

And Wanda agrees, saying goodbye to him as he steps through and keeps her promise to shatter the time stone.

Stephen finds himself in a year not too long ago, racing in the opposite direction of the screaming crowds of people who wouldn’t live to see his time come to pass.

And that’s when he sees him.

Tony Stark’s Iron Man, suit battered and sparking, his thrusters spluttering as they tried to keep him airborne as Ultron flew after him.

A well timed blast had Tony falling from the sky, his suit managing to kick itself back into gear before he landed in a heap on the ground.

Stephen pushed his way to him, crimson ropes wrapping around Ultron’s neck and ripping him away from Tony before he could do anything more.

As Tony tries to get up, Stephen offers him his hand.

Without hesitation, Tony takes it, and Stephen helps him to his feet, dragging him with him to where he remembers the Sanctum used to be.

Tony’s full of questions but Stephen can only think to answer the first one he actually has an answer for, telling Tony how this Ultron and himself are from a possible future.

Tony is skeptical, but he has no choice but to believe Strange.

Tony’s fought bloody aliens of all things, time travel isn’t as crazy as he once might have thought.

Before they can reach the Sanctum and ask for help, Stephen falls through one portal and Tony through another, landing them in different rooms of their destination.

While Tony is treated as a guest and given a jacket to cover over his Iron Man armour, Stephen is getting grilled by the Master of this Sanctum, Daniel Drumm.

Master Drumm knows Stephen shouldn’t be here doing what he’s doing.

And Ultron shouldn’t be here either.

Stephen tries to tell them that they have to protect Tony when Ultron bursts in, Stephen just managing to escape as Sorcerers fight and die around him.

He manages to meet up with Tony and they get the hell out of there without being noticed.

They need a place to lay low and rest.

Pulling the hood of Tony’s jacket up over his head, Stephen transforms his cloak into a long coat, pulling the collar up high to hide in and rolling his eyes when he feels it brush his cheek affectionately.

Tony hails a taxi and pays in cash to get them a block away from Stark Tower.

It’s only when Stephen is starting to relax from the adrenaline rush of almost being killed that he starts to feel the pain from the hit he took.

Tony is on him in an instant, inspecting the wound and trying to distract him with more questions about the future.

He has to ask in a hushed whisper so their taxi doesn’t over hear them and kick them out for being nut jobs and bleeding over his seats.

But Tony finds himself answering Stephen’s questions instead.

He answers them as he pulls Stephen out of the cab, almost losing his footing if the coat hadn’t balanced him.

He answers them as he half drags Stephen into Stark Tower.

He answers them in the elevator to his private lab where he begins to patch up Stephen as best he can.

And Stephen hangs on to every word.

Stephen never got to meet his version of Tony Stark, but he wants this one to know he doesn’t blame him for creating Ultron.

His intentions were good, and Stephen knows a person is not the mistakes they make.

Even Geniuses get it wrong sometimes.

Tony can’t see how Stephen can think this after living in a future Tony helped destroy.

So, Stephen tells him that, even though that was true, the Tony Stark from his future never gave up fighting Ultron.

He was an inspiration to the people to get up and fight along side him.

To the few left with extraordinary abilities to come out of hiding and become part of something much bigger.

To him.

Tony Stark was a legend, a cause people rallied behind now and forever, and will always be a hero to them.

People loved him.

Stephen loved him.

And Tony, having tied off Stephen’s bandage five minutes ago, stops Stephen from pulling his robes back up, fingers lightly tracing the pale scarred skin, the only evidence of all the battles Stephen has fought and survived.

Because of him.

He wants to make it up to him.

So when he kisses him and Stephen doesn’t kiss back, Tony instantly thinks he’s overstepped.

But when Stephen finally kisses him back, Tony’s fears ease away.

Stephen can’t protect Tony like this.

Not against Ultron in a technological world.

If Ultron’s body becomes too damaged, he simply flees through network cables and wifi signals.

If they could get somewhere where Ultron couldn’t do that, and get their hands on a weapon that could do some real damage to that vibranium shell, they might have a chance of surviving the night.

The question was where the hell were they going to get those things.

Why, here at Stark Tower, of course.

With the highest security thanks to Ultron’s initial attack some years ago, and with Tony’s personal lab around them, Tony has exactly what they need to destroy Ultron once and for all.

Stephen is amazed.

Tony has something that powerful?

Tony pulls himself from Stephen’s side and walks over to a draw, showing him a large glass tube with different sized metal shards in it.

Adamantium.

And then they hear it.

Ultron is here.

Stephen can only watch Tony work in amazement.

It truly is a sight to behold, and even more so when Tony declares his work is finished.

It’s a glorified Nail Bomb to be sure, but one that will work on Ultron and tear his Vibranium shell to pieces.

Stephen had never seen anything so dangerous be constructed so quickly, and would have offered some form of congratulations had the elevator doors not opened and Ultron stepped out.

Tony grabs the bomb and Stephen tells him to throw it.

They can’t let Ultron win.

If he wins against them tonight, Stephen’s future will become a reality, only there won’t be an Iron Man to inspire the people to fight back.

So he has to throw it and throw it now.

And Tony can’t.

He’s not willing to risk Stephen’s life.

But Stephen knows he doesn’t belong here.

This world, this life, this Tony, all belong to the other him.

So he does the only thing he can think of.

He grabs the bomb from Tony’s hand and throws it at Ultron’s feet, spinning around and throwing himself on Tony to shield him from the blast as the Adamantium nails shoot out in every direction, many piercing through Ultron’s vibranium body and severing it in half.

One pierces through Tony’s leg, but that’s incomparable to the amount Stephen’s body protected him from as he lays still in Tony’s lap.

Tony calls to him softly and Ultron hears him, clambering over Stephen to get to him.

On a whim, Tony rips the five inch nail out of his leg and shoves it up through the jaw, watching those red eyes finally fade into darkness.

And just like that, Ultron is finally defeated.

And Tony is left all alone, cradling Stephen in his arms.

And a few years later, they meet again.

Quotes -

“Come with me if you wanna live.”

Stephen’s first words to Tony

“There was a nuclear war. A few years from now, all this, this whole place, everything, it’s gone, just gone. There were survivors. Here, there. Nobody even knew who started it. It was the machines, Sarah.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Defence network computers. New, powerful, hooked into everything, trusted to run it all. They say it got smart- a new order of intelligence. Then it saw all people as a threat. Not just the ones on the other side. It decides our fate in a microsecond. Extermination.”

Stephen tells Tony about how his future happened.

“Well, how are you supposed to get back?”

“I can’t. Nobody goes home. Nobody else comes through. It’s just him and me.”

Wanda and Stephen’s last conversation.

“Some legend. You must be pretty disappointed.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Kyle, the women in your time, what are they like?”

“Good fighters.”

“That’s not what I meant. Was there someone special?”

“Someone...?”

“A girl, you know.”

“No. Never.”

“Never?”

Just Tony trying to find out if he has a chance with his rescuer.

Protecting the Future -

Stephen can’t change this future.

But maybe he can change the past

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

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[brentwatchesmovies]

Brent’s Top 10 Movies of 2019

Scorsese is probably my favorite living filmmaker, but I’ll be honest, when I heard that Scorsese was making this movie, and *how* he was making it (heavily digital de-aged actors) I was a bit skeptical. De Niro and Pacino haven’t been turning in interesting performances in quite awhile, and Pesci came out of a decades-long retirement for the movie as well. On top of that, the first trailer released did little for me. All that to say I was an idiot to doubt the master.

Scorsese returns to the crime genre that he re-invented many times over the years, this time with the eyes of a man in his 70’s, looking back on his life and career. The movie is very long, but in my opinion, it needs the length. The viewer needs to *feel* the totality of a life, and as is his intent with The Irishman, the *consequences* of this specific life. The final hour or so of this movie feels like a culmination of Scorsese’s career in many ways. The energy and entertainment of a crime/mob epic, with the fatalism and philosophical leanings of a movie like ‘Silence’. It’s a 3.5 hour movie that I’ve already rewatched, and actively want to again, so that alone ought to speak volumes.

Harmony Korine made one of my favorite movies of the 2010’s, the neon-soaked and often misunderstood ‘Spring Breakers’, so I was already in the bag for whatever he did next. When I heard it was a freewheeling stoner comedy where Matthew Mcconaughey plays a guy named ‘Moondog’ costarring Snoop Dogg, I reserved its location on my top 10 list.

This movie doesn’t have the empty heart at its core that defines Spring Breakers, opting instead for a character study about a ‘Florida man’ poet after his life pretty much falls apart. It’s basically plotless, stumbling from one insane, borderline hallucinatory sequence to the next, but I just loved living in the world of this movie. Beach Bum almost feels like a deliriously fun VR simulation of hanging out with Matt McConaughey and his weirdo friends down in the Florida keys. This is one that probably won’t pop up on many top 10 lists but I really adore, and will surely rewatch it a dozen times in the years to come.

Let the record show, I’ve been a huge fan of Bong Joon-ho since I first saw his monster movie/family drama ‘The Host’. Some time later, he went on to make ‘Snowpiercer’, one of my favorite movies of the last decade. All that to say, I think Parasite is probably his best movie, and a true masterwork of thriller direction. It also has his usual brand of social commentary and a script filled with darkness and humor, following a South Korean tendency to juggle multiple tones throughout, sometimes all in one moment or scene.

Parasite also follows a big 2019 trend of commenting on class and social dynamics between the rich and the poor. I think that’s part of why it’s done incredibly well at the box office (especially for a Korean language film), the fact that people can relate in a huge way, regardless of which country your from. Parasite is one of the most entertaining movie viewing experiences I’ve had this year and I’d recommend everyone check it out.

If you were to ask me what the funnest movie-going experience I had in 2019 was, I’d have to pick Rian Johnson’s ‘Knives Out’. Hot off making one of the best Star Wars movies ever made (don’t @ me) Johnson decided to make a passion project in the vein of classic Agatha Christie style murder mysteries, and the results are a total blast. Filled with clever twists and turns, weaponizing the structure of murder-mysteries against the audiences expectations, it stays one step ahead of you the entire time.

Aside from the clever mystery of it all, it’s the actors performances and chemistry that really sell this thing. Jamie Lee Curtis and Toni Collette are expectedly great per usual, and Daniel Craig is having the time of his life as Mississippi private-eye Benoit Blanc, but the heart of the movie is relative newcomer Ana de Armas. She brings an emotional weight and anchor to the movie that always keeps you emotionally invested amidst the terrible, money hungry backstabbing by the other heightened characters. I hope everyone sees this movie and Johnson is able to give us another Benoit Blanc adventure somewhere down the line, I’ll be there opening day.

Nobody makes an upbeat, feel-good movie like Ari Aster does! After last years light and breezy ‘Hereditary’ (which I liked a lot but didn’t totally love) he’s back with a completely riveting and emotionally draining (not to mention horrific) masterpiece. What I connected to most in Midsommar is the journey of Dani, played incredibly by Florence Pugh. The way the film portrays the relationship between her and her dog shit boyfriend played by the (usually) charming Jack Reynor keeps you invested in every twist, perfectly paced out over the movies admittedly long runtime.

I won’t get into spoiler territory, but where this movie goes in the end is what makes this a fully 5-star movie for me. After putting you through hell, like Aster loves to do with bells on, Midsommar ends in a euphoric, psychedelic orgy of music and violence that I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Midsommar rules so hard and I can’t wait for whatever twisted thing Aster cooks up next.

One of my increasingly favorite brands of movies is a finely crafted, primo slice of dad-movie cinema, and James Mangold has made one with Ford v Ferrari. The story chronicles the partnership of ex-racer and designer Carroll Shelby and racer Ken Miles as they work to make a Ford that can compete in the 24 hour race of Le Mans. Bale and Damon are a blast to watch bounce off each other and the race sequences are pretty damn thrilling, combining (what I expect is) a solid amount of great VFX with practical racing to great effect.

I also didn’t expect it to have as much to say about the struggle to create something special by passionate people and not committees while also inside the very machine that churns out products on an assembly line. Just a random note, this original movie was just put out by 20th Century Fox, now owned by Disney but that’s completely unrelated and I’m not sure why I’d even bring that up??? Anyway, I love this movie and dads, moms and everybody else should check it out.

If you saw my list last year, then it must appear like I’m some diehard Mr. Rogers fan. I don’t really have many memories watching his show as a child, but what the documentary ‘Won’t You be my Neighbor’ and this film by Marielle Heller have in common is a shared fascination of his immense empathy and character. It’s only right that America’s dad Tom Hanks should play him, and I was surprised at the end that I was able to get over his stardom and accept him as Rogers. He’s not doing a direct impersonation, and I think it’s all the better for it, instead opting for matching his soft tone and laid back movements.

On a pure emotional level, this movie was a freight train. It didn’t help that the movie covers a lot of father stuff, from losing your own to becoming one yourself (2 big boxes on the Brent bingo card). Heller’s direction is clever in its weaponizing of meta/post-modern techniques, such as one incredible fourth wall break in a diner scene. It literally breaks down the barrier between Mr. Rogers, we the audience, and the films intent to make us feel something.

I cry a lot at movies, that much is well known, but it’s rare that a movie makes me weep, and this one did. Even thinking about scenes right now, days later, my eyes are welling up with tears thinking about the messages of the movie. Mr. Rogers and his lessons of empathy and emotional understanding have rarely been as vital and important as they are right now in our world.

Robert Eggers first film ‘The Witch’ from 2015 is one of my favorite movies of this decade, possibly of all time, so my hype for his black and white, period piece two-hander ‘The Lighthouse’ was through the roof. Even with sky-high expectations, it still blew me away. With dialogue reminiscent of The Witch in its specific authenticity to its era, to the two lead actors giving all-time great performances, It was one of the most entertaining film viewing experiences I had this year.

There’s something about both of Egger’s movies that I really keyed into watching this one: his fascination with shame and the liberation from it. Where Witch was from the female perspective, Lighthouse literally has two farting, drunk men in a giant phallic symbol fighting for dominance. It’s less a horror film than his first, but still utterly engrossing, demented and specific to his singular vision. I can’t wait to see 20 more movies from this guy.

This is another big movie of 2019, like The Irishman, where you can see the director looking inward, at what his films mean and represent. It initially caught me so off guard that I really didn’t know how to feel about it, but after seeing it again, it’s one of my favorites of the year, and probably Tarantino’s filmography overall. More akin to something like Boogie Nights or Dazed and Confused, letting us live with and follow a small group of characters, it mostly doesn’t feel like a Tarantino movie (until the inevitable and shocking explosion of violence in the third act, of course).

‘Hollywood’ is the most sincere and loving movie Tarantino has made, interested in giving us a send off to an era of Hollywood and artists that have been lost or forgotten (Some more tragically than others). In the end, the movie functions similarly to ‘Inglorious Basterds’ in it’s rewriting of history to give us catharsis. “If only things could have worked out this way.” Luckily in movies, removed from the restrictions of reality, they can. And once upon a time in Hollywood, they did.

Uncut Gems probably tripled my blood pressure by the time the credits rolled. A slice-of-life story about a gambler/dealer in New York’s diamond district, the movie follows Howard Ratner, played by Adam Sandler in easily the best performance of his career. Ratner is basically addicted to living at the edge of a cliff, being chased by violent debt collectors, juggling a home life and a relationship with an employee, and fully relying on risky sports bets to stay afloat. It makes for a consistently tense and unique viewing experience, expertly directed by the Safdie brothers.

Something that might not work for everyone but that I personally loved, is the chaotic way in which the movie is shot. What feels like loosely directed scenes, with characters talking over each other and multiple conversations happening at once, adds an authenticity and reality lacking from most other movies. It’s more adjacent to Linklater (thanks to Adam for the comparison) or Scorsese’s earlier films (also fitting, that he’s a producer on this). Following Howard Ratner as his life descends into chaotic hell was one of the best times I’ve had watching a movie this year.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

AVENGERS ENDGAME

DOLEMITE IS MY NAME

BOOKSMART

JOHN WICK CHAPTER 3

THE FAREWELL

AD ASTRA

[thetokenmuggle]

Of Mars and Jupiter

Sailor Moon Au 

Epilogue: Mars

“You have to be kidding me,” Tyler hissed, stopping mid-step when he saw who M was talking to. “Really?” he ranted turning to look at Minah and Jane. “Are you two seeing this?” he huffed.

“Yes, I can see my incredibly handsome boyfriend standing next to Daniel who has no memories of his past life and is probably just here to see how his cousin’s first day is,” Jane said. “Seriously Ty just leave him be,” she sighed.

“You can’t prove that,” Tyler huffed. “But i can, I am just going to say hi,” he said eyes narrowing at the boy who conveniently decided to look over just at that moment. Daehyung or Daniel as he is trying to push blinked owlishly before raising an eyebrow and leaning in to whisper something to M who started to laugh like the wish-washy traitor he tends to be.

With one last huff, Tyler stalked forward. From behind him, he could hear Jane groan but he was not going to be stopped. Daehyung could not be trusted under any circumstance and he was determined to prove it. He coughed getting M and his friend’s attention. “Hello M,” Tyler said simply, not friendly, he didn’t deserve friendly yet, not if all it took was a few words of assurance and bam lets accept these people who tried to kill his girlfriend and her sailor guardians (and if you count the silver millennium actually succeeded in doing so.)

“Hi Tyler?” he said, a questioning look was sent to someone over Tyler’s shoulder. He’d assume it was Jane but who knows maybe it was one of the others. “How was your first day of your senior year?” he asked politely.

“Fine nothing interesting happened,” he lied, eyeing Daehyung to gauge a reaction. The boy in question snorted causing Tyler to glare at him. “Is there something funny? He snapped.

“Oh no there is literally nothing funny about school,” Daehyung said in mock seriousness. “Education is very serious,” he said. “I take it you are a friend of M’s girlfriend?” he asked curiously.

“Friend is being generous,” Jane piped up from behind him, Minah stood behind her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Tyler hummed it was nice to have someone on his side even if she said was fine them being back the way Minah was behaving suggested she trusted Daehyung as much as he did.

“And how did you know i was Jane’s friend?” Tyler said pointedly bringing the attention back to him.

Daehyung starred at him tilting his head. “M told me?” he said simply “Is that a problem?” he questions looking at Tyler curiously.

“Of Course he did,” Tyler brustled, M was pretty flip-floppy when it came to what side he was on. Sure he was brainwashed last time but M didn’t seem like the type to handle peer pressure well, he wasn’t strong like Tyler was the only member of the scouts with a decent taste and he had to remind them that. “And no,” Tyler shrugged nonchalantly. “Why would it be?” he questioned raising an eyebrow, a silent challenge to Daehyung.

“I don’t know,” Daehyung shrugged lightly, “I just assumed i had somehow offended you since you keep glaring at me,” he said raising an eyebrow. “But maybe you are a fan of mine and can’t believe i am here in person,” he said smugly. “Or perhaps, you are trying to figure out your sexuality and trying to assert yourself as the alpha male?” he said tilting his head appraising Tyler. Behind Tyler, he could hear Jane snicker. “Or maybe you are just your run of the mill homophobe which is a shame,” he said with a shrug.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tyler huffed. “I don’t even know you and my sexuality is fine -” he said as Daniel rolled his eyes. “Not that there is anything wrong with - I just have a girlfriend,” he said reaching out and grabbing Minah who let an affronted “What?!”

“See,” Tyler said. Everyone in their little group looked at him like he had gone insane. Daehyung looked confused by the whole situation. Tyler was about to ask what was so confusing about him having a girlfriend when a brunette girl came barreling towards him.

“Tyler,” Maude exclaimed. “I was hoping to find you, I was thinking that you could show me around town,” she said.

“I don’t think his girlfriend would like that,” Daehyung said with a confused look on his face. “Unless I misunderstood how straight relationships work,” he said looking between Tyler, Maude and Minah.

“His girlfriend?” Maude questioned before looking at Minah, her face twisting into one of disgust. “With that leech,’ she said with a roll of her eyes. “You have to be kidding,” she said laughing haughtily.

“Excuse me,” Minah snapped. “Who the hell -” she began ranting. Tyler hummed it was nice to have two girls fighting over him, he was going to enjoy this experience when he by chance noticed a dark look on Daehyung’s face, a look he was all too familiar with.

“Who the hell is that?” He snapped eyes narrowing. “What is that thing doing around my sweet Emmy,” he ranted.

Epilogue: Jupiter.

To say Lucas had been distracted all day would be an understatement. He had been a ball of energy ever since M had told them that Eunha (and Daehyung by default because of course, they would still be together, Lucas couldn’t be lucky enough to have a Eunha full and Daehyung free existence) had been found. He was excited to meet Emily for the first time, to see if she kept any of the same characteristics of Eunha or was she completely different and just had the same face. He had hoped she was the same just without the evil, not that he believed she was evil before, he knew she was good deep down, even under the negaverses control she was still the most humane out of the four.

He did spend the majority of their walk to school trying to figure out how to reintroduce himself to her, maybe he could somehow get her to his basketball practice and show off his skills while looking in his ‘fan clubs’ opinion at his hottest (in his humble opinion he was always hot,) but fate had other plans and instead a 5ft something came running into him. He was not one to question its intention but maybe they could have gave him a better moment, one where she wasn’t desperately trying to get away from him while looking at him like he was a complete stranger.

It seemed like his plan for getting to know Emily kept having wrenches thrown in it whether it be befriending Mimi or ugly ice cream monsters who attacked her for defending said undeserving friend. Seeing her hurt was enough for him to no longer care about the perfect meeting at this point he had to be apart of her life because if she was anything like M was, she was going to be a monster magnet and he was not letting her die this time.

So that is why he restlessly starred ahead of him, leg bouncing as he watched the clock slowly tick towards the end of the day. He bit his lip wishing the bell would hurry up and ring, he had things to do. He was going to find her, check to see if she was okay after said ice cream monster attack and then charm her into at least being friends.

As soon as the bell rang he leapt to his feet, haphazardly shoving things into his backpack and struggling to zip it up before racing out of the door. He raced down to the courtyard, eyes darting for the first sign of Emily, or any sophomore for that matter. He managed to find one, Soomin, a sweet overly excited girl who happened to have arms linked with Mimi which was good news for Lucas. Looking at the direction they came from he spotted Emily hanging back a frown on her face, his eyes narrowed as he pondered whether threatening a bunch of sophomores was appropriate behaviour for a hero. He reasoned that he was defending someone from evil and that would surely be considered good.

Getting to Emily wasn’t too hard, either she was walking really slow or her tiny legs could barely move ahead - he didn’t really understand the life of short people. Either way, he managed to appear beside her rather easily. “Hello,” he said with a wave. Emily jumped up, a hand quickly covering her heart. Lucas grinned at her. “Sorry for scaring you,” he said apologetically.

“Oh it’s okay,” Emily said looking down, avoiding eye contact with him. “Can i help you with anything?” she muttered.

“Actually,” he said slowly causing Emily to look up panicked. Lucas grinned at the sudden eye contact. “I was actually coming to check on you,” he said. “You know after today?” he said.

Emily’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh my god,” she muttered.

“Yeah Ice Cream monsters right?” Lucas said scratching the back of his neck. “Not something you expect to see on your first day huh,” he said as Emily’s eyes narrowed. She reached out grabbing him and pulling him towards an empty classroom. Lucas looked at her in shock, well this was escalating quicker then he expected.

“You remember that too?” she whispered softly. Lucas’s eyes widened as he realized no one remembered that apart from the other scouts, or no one should remember that. He looked at her curiously, usually, after a monster attacks everyone just goes on as nothing happened, no memories of what had happened at all yet here Emily was remembering. “Because everyone else thinks i am kinda nuts right now,” she said, a hint of hopefulness shining in her eyes.

“Yes, I remember,” he admitted. Emily looked at him trying to figure out if he was being honest or just trying to trick her obviously finding whatever she needed because moments later he was pulled into a hug. He stiffened surprised by her actions.

Emily pulled away face red. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have - it’s just my cousin is very affectionate so he is fine with - i shouldn’t have hugged you -” she muttered.

Lucas laughed causing her to frown. “No don’t apologise,” he said quickly, “ I don’t mind you hugging me i was just surprised,” he said with a grin. “Are you okay?” he asked looking at her carefully. “Because i saw that thing attack you,” he continued.

“Oh yeah i guess,” she said, “I just felt a little tired and had a headache-” she added. “But why does no one else remember? And who were those people? You saw them too right? Because when i bought up with my friends - well if they are still my friends -” she continued as Lucas’s eyes narrowed in anger. Maybe he could talk Minah or Jane into threatening a bunch of sophomore girls. It was what they deserved.

“Well i don’t know why no one remembers,” he sighed. “Maybe it’s because we are more intelligent than them,” he said, trying not to coo at the small smile that made its way onto Emily’s face. He had a feeling the reason she remembered was because of who she was in the past but that would mean Enzo should remember what happened too and he was acting fine last time Lucas had seen him. “And you mean the Sailor Scouts? Yeah they are kinda like these mythical heroes, you know the game Sailor V is meant to be based on them,” he said nodding. How Minah became the inspiration for the best selling video game he would never know.

“The green one, I can’t really remember, but I think he saved my life,” she said brows furrowed. Lucas tried not to beam at her remembering him even just slightly.

“Well that is a good thing, it would be a shame if such a pretty girl died because of such an ugly creature,” Lucas grinned at the way Emily flushed.

“Shut up,” she muttered, shoving him slightly,

“And since your friends are being lame,” He said. “I could be your new friend,” he offered. “Unless of course you want to be more than friends,” he winked at her.

Emily sputtered, “I don’t even know your name,” she pointed out. “And are you like this with all your friends?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t,” Lucas pouted. “Well it’s Lucas and your name is -” he said pretending not to know her name. “Eunha perhaps?” he said cheekily, eyeing her carefully to see if there was even the slightest hint of recognition, he was sadly disappointed when she just frowned.

“Eunha?” she repeated nose scrunching up. “Do i look like a Eunha?” she questioned, tilting her said to the side. “No, you were right it does start with E, it’s just Emily, plain and kinda boring,” said with a pout.

“I think it’s pretty,” Lucas said sweetly. “And now that we know each other… friends?” he said holding his hand out for her to shake.

Emily looked at his hand for a second before shaking it. “Friends,” she smiled. “We should get going, my cousin is waiting and knowing him ..” she trailed off with a laugh. “It's just best for the school that he isn’t kept waiting too long,” she laughed.

“Well let's get going then,” he said. “Unless you want to stay alone in an empty classroom,” he said wiggling his eyebrows. Emily rolled her eyes, quickly growing immune to his flirting much to his disappointment.

Lucas didn’t expect an angry Daehyung charging towards him as soon as they got out of the gate. “Emily,” Daniel said through gritted teeth. “What are you doing with a boy?” he asked laser-focused on Lucas.

“What’s wrong with that?” Tyler asked from behind him.

“Are you two friends?” Daniel asked quickly looking between himself and Tyler. “Oh you are that’s even worse,” he muttered. “Em i am not sure if this is the type of person you want to be hanging around, his friend has two girlfriends and he is so shameless like the girls know each other and all,” Daniel said shaking his head. “So naturally if they are friends then this guy is also bad so,” he shrugged.

“Let’s go,” he said to Emily who looked apologetically at Lucas mouthing a talk tomorrow to him.

[writersmacchiato]

Ghostbusters | Gerard Pitts {Supernatural AU!}

Summary: Pitts is determined to figure out the mystery of Welton Academy, but a strange encounter at the library leads to more questions. Luckily, Pitts knows someone who can help.

Warnings: you and pitts get freaky in a cemetery...parking lot ;)

{Part One} {Part Two}

___

Now, that was a story for another time. . . 

Pitts scrolled through his laptop, looking through the library’s database before signing. He looked annoyed when he turns to you. 

“The library doesn’t have any articles uploaded to their website past 1970.” Pitts closed his laptop, picking up his keys, jangling them as he smiles. “So, I guess we’re doing this the old fashioned way.” 

. 

The library had an intimidating stature of a building that witnessed the lows and highs of Morin Harbor. It was old. The brick walls were long faded from their red hue, looking particularly dismal through the drizzle. A lone candle lit a window on the second floor, its access always blocked off to the public. 

Pitts is familiar with the library, evident in the way he weaves through the towering bookshelves and musty air. He stood at attention in one particular corner, the air feeling stale and sticky on your skin. You watch as his fingers skim the spines of the books, murmuring their names, before he smiles. He hands it to you. 

Morin Harbor Census 1957

“We’re looking for the mystery man that you saw. I did some research yesterday but I couldn’t find anything.” Pitts’ eyes are bright as he talks fast. “Which is extraordinary because Morin always has something on everyone. There was once a man who spent a single night to wait out a storm and twenty years after his stay, the locals could still identify a picture of him. Nothing ever leaves Morin.” 

“Should we go back? To the Russell family?” You ask, feeling the urge to read up on as much as you could. “I want to learn everything I can about them. What happened.” Why. . .

 “The library closes at nine, so we better get to work.” 

. .

You barely notice the light slipping over the horizon, shadows crawling over the crooks and nannies of Morin, engrossed in the reports of the Russell family. The constable in charge, Henry James, kept a surprising record of the case for that time period. He had interviews, handwritten notes, and photocopies of the crime scenes (that were omitted, but given written descriptions). 

What you found most interesting out of all of the information was an eyewitness account of someone who claimed to have seen James a week after the events took place. 

Charlotte Hanson, neighbor of the Russell’s. Eye witness. 

Mrs. Hanson: I saw that young boy, little James, in the woods.

Constable James: The woods outside your house?

Mrs. Hanson: Yes. He looked so happy, I heard him singing. That’s why I went outside. 

Constable: Because of the singing?

Mrs. Hanson: It was a church hymn all the youngin’s are taught. . .I saw James Russell and I waved at him, and I swear on God, he waved back at me, I heard him giggle.

The mention of James’ giggle has you pausing, thinking back to when you heard something similar in the woods. Looking at Pitts, his attention is entirely on the article in front of him, lips moving as he reads over the page. 

“I’m going to the bathroom.” 

Pitts barely responds, mumbling something that you take as affirmation. 

Besides you and Pitts, there is no one in the building except for the graying librarian at the front desk, gazing directly at you over her glasses. The weight of her eyes is heavy on your shoulders as you walk down the aisle toward the bathroom. Its door creaked loudly in protest, getting stuck in the frame before it jammed. Jiggling the handle, a harsh push, and the door still holds firmly shut. You turn to look at the librarian for assistance, but she's gone. 

"Excuse me?" 

Your voice is too loud, too harsh in the dead quiet library. The air is thick, closing down over your nose and filling your lungs. With a quiet 'hiss' the nearest lamp goes out, leaving you to squint through the sudden darkness. When you re adjust to the change in light, you see the glowing eyes of a young boy directly in front of you. His lips curl into a grin, unnaturally wide on his small face. 

"Come play with me." He whispers, giggling after. 

The blood in your veins turn cold, heart stopping at the familiar laugh. Without hesitation, you turn from the boy and run to where Pitts is. You hear the boy running after you, the small pitter-patter of his steps, giggle echoing off the walls. It's a dead end. Your heart is pounding. A hand wraps around your wrist and you let out a strangled cry, tugging away.

Pitts looks at you wide-eyed, looking past your shoulder. "What's wrong are you okay? Where did you go?"

"What?" You wheeze out, head racing as you struggle to slow your breathing. 

"You were gone for so long...I thought maybe you left, but then I heard you laughing--"

"That wasn't me." You grab on to his sleeve. "Gerard, we need to leave. Now."

. . .

"The same laugh?" Pitts questions from across you, looking equally delighted and horrified. 

"It was the same laugh, I'd recognize it anywhere."

Pitts falls into a silence, looking out the diner window. The fluorescent lights illuminate his face, shadowing his features in a way that makes him handsome in a way you hadn't noticed before.

"Did you get a good look at him?"

"Yeah. He was so close to me, I could have touched him."

Pitts opens his backpack, pulling out a thick folder. He pulls out a photograph, weathered around the edges. 

It's in black and white, a school photo of elementary kids. M. H. Elementary, 1918. Left to right: Crawford, Cindy; Stevens, Daniel; Russell, James. 

You look up at Pitts, shaking your head. Tapping the picture with a sigh. “That’s him.” 

“You saw him in the woods and in the library?” 

“I think I saw him in the woods. I don’t know for sure.” You said. “But I know that I heard his laugh and I heard it tonight.” 

“It’s like his spirit latched onto you.” Pitts muses. 

“Don’t say that!” 

Pitts shrugs, stirring his straw, watching the ice clink against the glass.

“Why me?” 

“I don’t know...maybe he wants something.” 

“What could he possibly want from me? It’s not like we’re related, my family didn’t move here until the sixties.” 

“Don’t yell at me, but—don’t make that face!” Pitts exclaims when you go to interrupt. “Maybe he wants to rest.” 

“What?” 

“His soul. He was murdered in 1924 and if he’s been haunting the woods all those years, he must be tired. He’s ready to move on.” Pitts said. 

“And be with his mom again.” You add, following his train of thought. 

“Exactly.” Pitts nods.

“But, how would he do that?” 

. . 

Madam Krisa, Psychic Medium

It was a small, brick building off the corner of main street. There was a small, glowing sign that read 'open' in front of velvet curtains. 

"Are you kidding me, Pitts?" You turn on your heel, arms crossed.

Pitts smiles sheepishly. "We need to communicate with James if we want to get him to cross over. Krisa is legit."

Despite the red flags that spring forward, you follow Pitts inside. You trust him and he hadn't been wrong yet. 

The door is barely latched on to the rusty door hinges, creaking loudly upon your entrance. Pitts calls out to Krisa, ringing a bell by the door, taking a seat at the round table in the corner. You follow Pitts slowly, keeping an eye on the front door. The air felt charged in here. 

It was a small front room, separated by a string of glimmering gold beads that led into a darker room. A door to the left was latched and locked shut. There were candles of every shape and size on any spare surface, wax dripping down their figures. It smelled smoky and stale, like Madam Krisa often lit up a cigarette. 

Pitts looks utterly relaxed, reclined back in the wooden chair. You wonder how often he comes here. 

There’s a faint whisper of fabric and then a small croon of a voice that alerts you to her presence. Madam Krisa is a swirl of fabrics and dangling jewelry, all clashing colors that somehow work together. 

“Gerard Pitts.” Her voice lowers, void of any indication of whether she’s pleased to see him. “You brought a friend.” She teases the word ‘friend’, drawling it out and letting out a laugh when Pitts squirms. 

“We need your help. I think a ghost has latched on to her.” Pitts jumps straight to the point after introducing you. 

“Always thinking, Gerard, so much thinking.”  Madam Krisa says. “So much meddling.”

“James Russell.” 

Krisa pauses, completely frozen, not blinking or breathing for a solid moment. She snaps back into focus, grasping the table, chest heaving. 

“You know better than to toss out names of the dead so carelessly, Gerard.” Krisa scolds. 

"Why that boy?"

"I don't know, but he's appeared to her twice."

Krisa almost looks concerned as she looks intently at you. "I'm not surprised. Your aura is very bright and welcoming."

"My aura?" You ask. 

"It's violet." Krisa said. "Connected to psychic power."

"I'm not psychic."

Krisa smiles. "Anyone has the ability to be psychic, but not everyone can draw the power from within themselves."

"So, a ghost attached to me because I could be psychic?"

"Perhaps. It could have latched on to the first soul it came across." Krisa takes a seat across from you and Pitts, settling her hands over the table. "Why don't we find out?"

The curtains were drawn shut, leaving the room in a dim light from the flickering candles. Pitts holds your hand gently, squeezing it once when you look at him, doubt evident. 

"James. . ." Krisa whispers. "James Russell. . .Are you there, little one?" 

The clock on the mantle ticks back and forth, 

. . .tick 

tok. . .

. . .tick

tock. . .

and then it stops. The air in the room goes still, a chill creeping down your spine.

Krisa inhales sharply, eyes closed. "Do you miss her?"

You look at Pitts and he just nods, his grip on your hand tightening. 

"She misses you, James. So much." Krisa said. "She wants to be with you again. It's okay to move on. She's waiting for you."

Krisa doesn't say anything more, moving her head back and forth, and then you hear it,

. . .tick

tock. . . 

. . .tick 

tock. . .

Krisa uncurls her hands, taking a deep breath as she looks to you. "He's moved on."

"That's it?" You said. "It's that easy?"

"Not every spirit is willing to move on, but most are. They just don't know how."

"The movies are so inaccurate." Pitts said. "Thank you, Krisa. Is there anything we can do to repay you?"

"Take this." Krisa moves to the cabinet filled with trinkets, pulling out a worn compass. "And put it in James Russell's grave."

. . 

Mist crawls over your shoes, trailing over the headstones and weeds. Fresh dirt and wet grass overwhelm your senses as you crouch down to where Pitts is digging a small hole in between two headstones.

| Maragret Russell | James Russell | Mary Russell |

Standing back after carefully patting over the freshly dug ground, you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

"Maybe when all of this is over, we could go see a movie?" Pitts speaks up, breaking the silence that had fallen.

"Are you seriously asking me out over the grave of a murdered family?"

Pitts shrugs, trying to hide a smile. "This is the worst timing, forget it."

.

In his car, you almost burst out laughing when the radio turns on and you hear the opening line.

If there's something strange in your neighborhood / who you gonna call?

"Ghostbusters!" You say at the same time as Pitts, finally letting out a laugh. "Holy shit, Gerard. We're ghostbusters."

He lets out a loud laugh, eyes crinkled shut as the warmth of his mirth washes over you. Never would you have imagined becoming so fond of him, but here you are; in the town's old cemetery, in his car, laughing, with your ghostbuster. 

"Hey." When the laughter fades away with the songs closing notes, you look over at him to find that he's already staring at you. "I would like to go to the movies sometime. With you." 

His smile is almost blinding, but he tries to repress it. "Oh, cool. Cool. Cool." 

"Come here, you dork."

You lean across the console to kiss him, hand grabbing the lapel of his jacket to pull him closer. Pitts' fumbles with his hands for a moment, settling on the curve of your neck. He radiates warmth and you sigh against his mouth. You feel safe around him. 

"I really like you." You manage to say in between kisses. "Like a lot."

"I can't believe we're making out in my car right now. I've had the biggest crush on you for years." Pitts said. 

"Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, I never said anything because you're like, really cool and pretty and smart and funny..." 

"I can't believe the sweetest guy in school likes me!" You giggle. 

"Meeks is never going to believe this." Pitts mutters under his breath.

"I think they have a showing of Detective Pikachu at nine we could make if we left right now?" You offer.

"Hell yeah." 

. . .

"Bullshit." Meeks said. 

"It's true!" Pitts argues.

"I can believe a lot of shit that you come up with, but this? No. I'm not buying it."

"We're dating now."

Meeks lets out a laugh. "Good one."

"It's true. Does this hickey look fake?" Pitts pulls down his hoodie to reveal the bruise on his neck, Meeks looks at it unimpressed.

"Bull, and I cannot express this enough, shit."

"Hey, Gerard." You walk into his room, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Hey Meeks. Ready to film my part for the podcast?"

Meeks gapes at you. "How much did he pay you to do that?"

"Nothing?" You said.

Pitts looks smug, arms crossed. "I accept your apology."

"So, it's true? You're actually dating?" Meeks ignores Pitts, looking to you.

"Yeah?"

Meeks starts pulling out equipment. "I should've known. You were a biter in preschool."

"I told you he wouldn't believe me." Pitts pulls you close to him, leaning down to whisper.

"I can hardly believe it myself." You grin. He returns it, going in for a kiss before Meeks clears his throat. 

"We, uh, have the podcast?"

"Right."

"Of course."

. . 

There was a single candle lit in the room, flickering shadows over Pitts' face. The scent of cinnamon and pumpkin spice fill your nose as you settle down next to him. His arm wraps around your waist, hand running up and down your back. He's dozing off, eyes barely open. 

The recording for the podcast had gone quickly and it was fun being apart of the dynamic of Oh, Wicked? Pitts had just finished editing the audio when you came out of the bathroom, ready for bed. 

"Do you know what color your aura is?" You lift your head off its spot on his chest, peering down at him.

He sleepily blinks awake. "Yellow, usually."

Violet and Yellow. . . .

.

The candle had flickered out at some point, the chill in the room having dropped several degrees. You curl over to Pitts, only to touch nothing but empty sheets. His absence wakes you up, looking around the room. It's pitch black. The curtains billow out with the breeze coming through the window. At least that explained the cold temperature. Standing up to close the window, you feel a chill run down your spine. The sound of someone breathing fills the quiet of the room, directly behind you. 

You turn slowly, seeing nothing but an empty room. Letting out a shaky breath, you reach for the lamp, but right before you flick it on, there's a loud bang as the window slams shut. The glass panes rattle with the force. You see, then, in the reflection of the window, a face. The eyes are dark and hollow, a pale face pulled into a grimace. It points toward the closet. You hear the breathing again, this time hitting your neck. Feeling nothing but terror, rooted to the spot, you watch as an apparition slowly forms at the spot where the face pointed. 

'. . .Run. . .'

It comes as a rasp, from thin air, urgent and quivery. Whether it's a warning or a plea, you find the ability to flee out the door. You slam into Pitts', arms crushing around his waist as you hyperventilate. 

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" The sound of his voice coated in concern has you melting against him. 

You know that it, whatever that was, is gone. 

"I saw something."

His face drops, stepping to the room, keeping a steady hand on your waist. The room is empty, window open with the curtains flat against the wall. You notice how warm it feels.

"Krisa said this might happen." Pitts said. He drops onto the bed, running a hand through his hair. 

"What?"

"She said you had this. . .energy around you, that might attract things to you. Especially after James' latched onto you."

“I'm a magnet for ghosts?"

"Well, more like a lighthouse. They're stuck in the dark and they don't know how to get out, but then they see the light and gravitate toward it."

"To move on?"

Pitts nods, tapping his foot lightly.  

"So, I guess we're more like ghost therapists?"

"Sounds lame when you put it that way." Pitts smiles when you do, pulling you down onto his lap. "But, I'm glad we're co-therapists."

You feel a laugh bubble up, forgetting the fear that had gripped your heart only minutes ago.

"Who you gonna call, when you can't move on?"

"My ghost therapist!" Pitts falls back against the bed, holding your hands in his.

"Thanks for being so relaxed about this? I don't know what I would have done without you." You said.

"I've been seeing ghosts since I was like six, so I'm kinda used to it." Pitts said, completely nonchalant. "Oh, and Krisa is my aunt. Did I mention that?"

You grab a pillow to smack him with. "Why didn't you say anything earlier!?"

"No one ever believes me. I was scared to take that chance with you." He fights off your pillow attack. 

"Well, buddy, we're in this ghost-counseling together."

"Why am I so attracted to you when you just talked me buddy?" Pitts mutters.  

"Maybe it's because our auras complement each other." You grin when he turns pink. 

"How do you know that!?"

"Yellow and violet are complementary colors? I just sorta guessed but you gave it away." You said.

"I regret ever having a crush on you."

"You had a crush on me? How embarrassing." 

"We're dating!"

___

everything tag @venusstarlight108 @ardentmuse @knivestheresnothingtoit @awesomefaith14 @salladwinston @anchy-bananchy @staygoldponebone @unique05sstuff

dps tag @rctroeras (not sure if you wanted to be removed from all taglists or just the outsiders so let me please xx) @ponyboyvhs

supernatural au tag: @carpe-robin @scribblestarsonthecuffsofurjeans

[rkminhyun]

               MGA SEASON FIVE CALLBACKS     ∙       june twenty seven

                                               𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗲     :     𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 

                                 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠    :     𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐬'  𝟐𝟒𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜  

                                                    0:34 - 1:17     &     1:58 - 2:38

                                                                     ↺

      he lies there in bed for a while after everyone’s settled down from from the events of getting the email,  rereading the contents in question at least a dozen times before he can will himself to put his phone down.

      the day had originally gone like normal,  the disruption of peace coming in the form of someone mentioning they’d gotten an email  (  --  kenta,  maybe,  if he searches his thoughts hard enough to find an answer,  followed closely by daniel rushing into the room  )  and with nerves erecting instantaneously,  minhyun takes a breath before looking towards his own phone.

      the first read is more eyes casually finding themselves in a frantic search for the key words  --  an invitation outlining he’s made the callback cut,  an address attached and formal details lingering in between the main points of the email.   his head hits the back of the couch silently,  and he closes his eyes.

      he breathes.

      conversations around him eventually fall into a lull as they break off into tiny groups,  scattering as they discuss the necessary details for the big day,  excitement in the air.  minhyun checks in and out of the conversation,  finding himself a little lost but stubborn enough not to let it seep through into his expression.  he keeps his answers light and goes about his day.

      then,  he tucks himself into bed,  bidding kenta a goodnight,  before turning his back on the other boy and proceeding to open up the very email he’s been lamenting in his head all day.

      oh god,  what did he sign himself up for?

      a minor freak out later,  not that anyone in the share-house would really know considering it’s all happening internally in the middle of the night,  because clearly minhyun never quite learned the value of expressing your emotions and having a healthy venting system going  --  and so,  when woojin asks him if he knows what he’s doing,  he simply shakes his head the first time and then says  i’m working on it  anytime after that.

      yeah,  definitely.

      it’s definitely not as if he whips something together the day before,  practice running into early morning,  relying on choreography he did in past and knew his body was still comfortably familiar with.  it’s times like these he’s thankful to his little sister,  that he had been coerced into attending dance lessons for however short a time it may be in comparison to other trainees,  appreciating the experience exponentially simply so he wouldn’t necessarily embarrass himself.  it takes a few full runs for his mind to remember the way his limbs are supposed to be working,  but a few hours in and breathless,  minhyun can stay with some semblance of confidence maybe he’s anticipating the big day.

      well,  more so at the prospect of getting it done and over with,  but he deems the thought is what counts.

      daniel stays over the night before so they can all go together,  and minhyun’s up making breakfast earlier than he expected to,  despite how he has to rub at his eyes for a while when he wakes just to will himself to open them.  once he’s up,  the butterflies ever present in his lungs make sure their presence is acknowledged,  and he almost considers skipping out on the meal.

      almost being the keyword,  but he knows the importance of a good balanced meal in the morning and so he eats,  pushing the same on the others through insisting remarks and a bit of force where necessary.  he smiles to himself at the sight of the group together,  a sense of love ever present in the way his eyes crinkle just the slightest,  before he shifts his attention back to his plate.

      the rest of the morning and the time after they’re finally past check-ins and inside the venue almost flies by,  minhyun too busy fretting over small details for the others and making sure everything was ready for his own performance by running through things a couple dozen times in his mind.  he helps sungwoon carry in his keyboard,  amused at the prospect of coming to the other’s aid though he doesn’t make any remarks about it,  almost wordless thanks to nerves. his heart feels like it’ll never stop racing,  and after a while,  he almost gets used to it.

      they’re all dressed in empty enigma shirts,  making some sort of combined statement and he can’t particularly remember who brought up the idea but he wears it proud  --  just a shirt,  he’ll remind himself later,  a little embarrassed,  but the point stands.

      he waits for the other boys to sit first before following suit,  finding comfort having a seat on one of their ends,  having the ability to look over and see them all at once.  maybe it’s the side of him that served as empty enigma’s manager for as long as he did,  or maybe it’s just a him thing overall,  but he smiles to himself as the others chatter among themselves and feels contentment stirring inside him.  he may not say it now,  maybe not anytime soon when words are so difficult to filter through and process but the appreciation he holds for his found family,  his band of misfits  --  he can’t even begin to phrase it all into words.

      instead,  he turns towards the front and watches as others start filtering in,  eyes beginning to analyze the competition without him really meaning to.  it feels like an automatic response,  and overall,  a very him thing to do when he’ll consider it later while looking back on the day.

      eventually his phone buzzes and he sees the text from suwoong pop onto the screen as he slides it open,  and for a moment he stares at it before looking back up towards the front.  ah,  yes.  suwoong.  how naive of him to forget the other was apart of the process,  especially when he was sure to be a sight to behold in the auditions,  no,  more the entire show.

      his phone then buzzes thrice consecutively,  and minhyun only sighs before unlocking it to respond,  question prompted about the location of his seat.  minhyun closes his eyes to bask in the quiet murmurs of the room and then like clockwork,  the quiet is shattering as if infiltrated by an incoming tsunami,  and he opens his eyes to offer suwoong a wry attempt at a grin.

      time passes with idle conversations and then a focus towards the beginning of the call-backs. soon after begin the nervous jitters,  crawling up his skin and he scratches his arms,  his neck,  his cheek from time to time,  the phantom sensations never quite leaving him,  increasing once the judges are announced.  he’s one to operate with a sheet of iron over his expression,  but he blinks in minor shock,  later supposing it’s not too out there  --  the contestants would be their investments in the future,  some talents they’d be scouting at the end of the program.  despite the pressure,  minhyun finds his jitters translating into excitement,  his attention kept towards the stage.

      daniel goes up first,  and minhyun offers a quick pat before he can making his way down,  the good luck almost lost in his bout of nerves before finally making it past his lips.  he shifts into the seat beside sungwoon when the other’s gone,  and like clock-work,  without really meaning to every time he swears,  his grip becomes interlocked with the others as they stare at the stage collectively.  he tries his best to pay attention through the whole thing,  beaming proudly though with the first of them gone,  minhyun feels the presence of ticking clock grow exponentially.  at some point,  he blanks out.  when daniel returns,  he slides back into his own seat as everyone commences the quiet cheers,  and minhyun offers a heartwarming good job whispered into the air once the other sits.  

      “hwang minhyun!”  katie lee calls out the moment he’s done with the congratulations,  and minhyun’s heart immediately jumps into his throat. daniel pats his knee before he can stand,  the other boys offering a thumb up and some verbal good lucks but it’s the collective smiles that stick with him as he makes his way to the makeshift stage.

      taking a few deep breathes on his way up,  he slides on what he deems to be a charming smile and quickly introduces himself.  “hello,  i’m hwang minhyun,  and i hope everyone remembers to recycle on the daily.”  he doesn’t know why he says that,  actually fails to remember much of the beginning when he looks back on the day later,  but he knows the rest of the pleasantries go as well as they can before he’s waiting for the music to begin.  the number of people should add to his nerves,  as he finally stands before them all,  but the stage does what it always does  --  spotlight in his eyes,  he inhales sharply and lets the rest of the world seep into the back of his thoughts.

twenty four karat magic in the air

      the performance is meant to start off a little acoustic style,  the backtrack essentially just his own ad-libs for his performance,  timed perfectly as he went along at the pace he’d practiced.  his voice is loud as he sings the final note in the line,  side of his mouth perking up as he closes his eyes for a moment.

head to toe so player look out uh

      his only plan for the beginning is to rely on his subtle charm and eye contact to start off his segment of time.  it’s a plan he’d been hesitant on doing but the idea bugs him for some time before he’d finally given in,  practicing and watching himself perform it countless times as his slightly accented english stabilizes as he gets a grip on his intentions.  his version is a little more focused on actually vocalizing the verse more so than the original did,  taking the chance to show off his singing.

pop pop, it's show time (show time) show time (show time) guess who's back again? oh they don't know? (go on tell 'em) oh they don't know? (go on tell 'em) i bet they know soon as we walk in (showin' up) wearing cuban links (ya) designer minks (ya) inglewood's finest shoes (whoop, whoop) don't look too hard might hurt ya'self known to give the color red the blues

      despite his growing confidence as he goes on,  he has yet to do much outside of exerting the image of a man that knows his lines and has the confidence to perform them,  switching his gaze from being planted on the judges themselves and the audience at large,  hoping to pull in the entire room into the piece that would come together to form the memory known as “minhyun’s attempt at a successful mga callback performance.”  a long title  --  it can use some work.

oh shoot, i'm a dangerous man with some money in my pocket (keep up) so many pretty girls around me and they waking up the rocket (keep up) why you mad, fix ya face, ain't my fault y'all be jocking (keep up)

      at the pretty girls line,  he fixes his gaze on katie lee and baek jiyoung for a moment,  shooting finger hearts to the panel,  then finishing off the verse.  at that,  the backtrack makes a faltering noise,  distorting at the next intended players only, come on,  and he sees scattered looks directed his way though it’s a well-known technique really.  minhyun takes it as a cue to run a hand through his hair casually,  growing grin visible as the track plays finally leaves the acoustic back track,  picking up where he’d left off vocally only a moment prior.  as the music switches to the original,  bruno mars’ voice echoing through the room,  his body reacts to the music automatically.

just put your pinky rings up to the moon girls, what y'all trying to do? (tell me what y'all trying to do) twenty four karat magic in the air head to toe so player (hands up!)

      his mind is empty as he dances,  more focused on the music than anything else,  not much active thought needed to deliver his moves.  there’s a casual grin,  tinted with a subtle cockiness only present when he performs,  channelling a bit of his reign persona to exert the intended effect of a man put together,  who knows what he’s doing.  he knows the moves well,  more than anything else in the moment in fact,  and a voice deep within his conscious tells him it’s clear with the confidence in his steps.  (not that he’d tell anyone else that,  finding blissful ignorance a safer home to settle within  --  i did okay,  he’ll tell anyone that asks and leave it at that).

put your pinky rings up to the moon girls, what y'all trying to do? (do) twenty four karat magic in the air head to toe so player (twenty four karat) uh, look out

       he falls into a bow almost immediately,  breathing heavy as he tries to stabilize but almost glowing with satisfaction.  the warmth covers every inch of him and he runs a hand through his hair once more before bidding his thank you’s.

[shieldagentscully-blog]

SAS 5 - Great Minds

May 1994 - Washington D.C.

The body was a 34-year-old male, Puerto Rican, gang member who had been the star witness in a Department of Justice trial involving a cartel operating out of the Port Authority in New York, importing goods and drugs for distribution and sale on the black market. The case was run of the mill, honestly, and the unfortunate fellow had been pretty cut-and-dry as far as such cases went. There wasn’t much a bullet to the back of the skull was going to tell you outside of the fact that the caliber was enough to make an open casket impossible for his family. Scully did what she could to ensure that the funeral home didn’t have to deal with too much of a mess, sewed up the Y-incision and went back to her office to begin writing up her notes.

She was only mildly surprised to see anyone sitting in there. Certainly, she was used to the itchy agent or three who would on occasions camp out there with the impatience of a hyper two-year-old waiting for the results for their investigation, and in fact she had been expecting that very thing on the body she had just put into the freezer. She didn’t even pause as she rounded towards her desk, barely looking at the woman seated across from it.

“Javier de Valle was a standard execution, plain and simple. Was asked to kneel in a parking lot, hands behind his back while they put a slug into the back of his head. The exit wound obliterated much of the upper part of his face. I’m getting ballistics to give me the specs on the weapon used and if it’s traceable, and when they do, I’ll add those to my report. I should have something preliminary for you by the end of the day with addendums within the next 48, depending on how our trace goes.”

The woman merely blinked dark eyes at her, a hint of something tugging at her lips. “Well, that was a horrible way to die.”

It was the British accent that caught her attention, as few people from Justice ever had one of those. She paused, really looking at her visitor for the first time. An older woman, maybe in her 60’s, still clearly vibrant judging from the bemused smirk on her faintly lined face, hair slowly fading from brunette to silver. Her well tailored suit and elegant pearls made Scully suddenly very aware of the standard-order scrubs she was wearing and her own copper hair pulled up in a messy scrunchy at the top of her head.

“Ummm...I’m sorry, I thought you were from Justice, on the body I had sent down to me.”

“I wish I was now, it sounds fascinating.” She shrugged, regarding Scully quickly. “Let me guess, gang killing, likely drugs or some such, and your body was an informant?”

Scully couldn’t deny or affirm that, so she only stared. The woman only seemed more amused by that.

“Of course, it’s the sort of everyday, run-of-the mill stuff that the Department of Justice feels they need to send to Quantico, because nothing less than their best forensic pathologists would do. After all, not everyone can tell that a man having his face blasted off was shot in the back of the head.”

“In fairness, most people wouldn’t get past the face being missing, but beyond that, I suppose they could have used a New York City coroner. They are backed up for a week or more, however, and as this was a key piece for a DOJ investigation, they came to me, as they should.” Scully leaned back in her chair, regarding the stranger. “You know, Quantico is a Marine base. They don’t just let anyone in here.”

“Well, good thing I have the clearance for that sort of thing.” Her smile was now genuine as she leaned across the desk, placing a white card in front of Scully. It read “Margaret Carter, Director, Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division”

Scully suddenly felt her mouth go very, very dry.

“Director Carter,” she managed, clearing her throat and tugging at her blood spattered and rumpled top. “I...uh..how can I help you?”

“I just wished to say hello, introduce myself, and tell you that Agent Coulson is speaking to your friend on my orders.” Her expression was mild enough, but there was something of the predator in her as she leaned back, crossing her legs at the knees, pulling her skirt down primly. “I must admit, I find it admirable the devotion you have for Agent Mulder. It’s rare to find that in our line of work. Though, to be fair, you two aren’t exactly the standard for FBI agents, now are you?”

“May I ask why you are reaching out to Mulder?”

“Because I know his father.”

That gave Scully pause.

If she expected Director Carter to elaborate, she was mistaken, as she breezed by that tidbit. “Agent Mulder has been on our radar for some time, since before the FBI managed to snare him. It is unfortunate they did because they’ve squandered the talent as they always do. Bill Patterson is a jackass and always has been, but, that’s where they put your partner and nearly ruined him for anything else.”

Scully’s brain swum as the other woman rattled off the information, racing to try and keep up with her. “I’m sorry, you said that SHIELD wanted Mulder first?”

“Oh, we had every intention of taking him. Politics got in the way of that.”

“But Mulder was a profiler. He didn’t work anti-terrorism.”

“As brilliant as your partner’s mind is, Agent Scully, I didn’t want him because he knows how serial killers think. I wanted him because of the way he thinks; outside the box, without labels or preconceived notions, willing to turn the picture on its side and look at it in a different way.”

“I see.” She didn’t really, but she wasn’t willing to admit that. “And this has nothing to do with the X-files, the death of a high profile man in a global conspiracy who served as Mulder’s informant, or the fact that Mulder was infected with a strange virus whose origins cannot yet be quantified?”

“It could be all of that, too.”

None of this made sense.

“I’m sorry, Director Carter, but I find it hard to believe that a global organization such as SHIELD is going out of its way for someone the FBI has nearly written off. Why not just approach him out in the open, like you and I are? Why all the clandestine business?”

Far from offending the other woman, Scully’s tone made her laugh outright. “I knew I’d like you from the start. I pushed to have the pair of you, honestly, but Fury said to try the more obvious one first. I’m glad to see my instincts were right.”

Before Scully could feel nettled enough to demand answers, the other woman leaned over to a briefcase at her feet, pulling out a file she flipped open on her lap. “Dana Katherine Scully, born 1964. Your father was career Navy, retired a read admiral, your mother was a homemaker and now spends her retirement volunteering and working for veterans’ causes. You have three siblings, a sister, Melissa, who last we saw was driving up the coast of California to see friends in San Francisco. You have two brothers, both career Navy, one in San Diego, the other based in Norfolk, specializing in naval intelligence.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “Interesting...might have Fury look into him.”

“Is there a point reciting my life story?”

“I like knowing about people.” She didn’t even look up from the page. “You graduated from Maryland summa cum laude taking a bachelors in physics, and then Stanford Medical, where you specialized in cardiology before switching to pathology and the FBI. Had it not been for Daniel Waterston, you’d have been making high figures fixing hearts, instead you are in the basement of the Hoover Building trailing after a man whose heart was broken years ago and he’s never been able to fix it. Why?”

She might as well have dumped cold ice water over Scully’s head for all the shock Carter caused. She hadn’t expected her to drop Scully’s previous sins on her like that.

“I...my father and brothers were Navy. I wanted to do something equally as worthwhile, to make a difference.” It was mostly the truth.

“And a broken heart from a man cheating on his wife wasn’t the reason?”

“Do you honestly think I’d still be here, doing this, if Daniel Waterston is the only reason I joined the FBI?”

Her answer seemed to please Carter. “You didn’t want to join the Navy yourself? You have brains, a medical degree, you could have excelled. They are always looking for that.”

Scully did know that, had even considered it, briefly. “When I was a girl, my father was more often away than at home. It was Vietnam, he was off at one base or the other, and my mother was left in San Diego fending for four kids and praying that he’d come home safely from wherever her was stationed. Granted, it wasn’t World War II, but we all saw the news every night, the names read off. I wasn’t interested in being shipped off to fight in a war and break my mother’s heart.”

“Even though women can be in the military, now, which was more than in my day.” Carter only sounded slightly bitter at that.

“There are other enemies and other ways to fight a war and I’m not Captain America, able to throw myself into battle and defeat my enemies by just beating them into submission.”

She had meant it as a small joke, a call back to SHIELD’s history with the SSR. She had struck a nerve, though. Carter’s geniality faltered, briefly, regarding Scully, as if attempting to stick her 5’2 frame into anything close to Steve Rogers and failing miserably.

“No,” she finally sighed, somewhat sad, somewhat humorously grieved. “Few people can claim to be as hard-headed or foolishly determined to fight unwinnable wars as Captain Rogers was. But, I think your friend, Fox Mulder, might just give him a run for his money.”

That made Scully snort loudly. “He just might.”

She wasn’t sure what it said about Mulder if they could mutually agree he was almost, but not quite, foolish enough to do something like take an untested serum in order to fight super-Nazis. Scully didn’t think she wanted to put the notion in his head.

“Back to the matter at hand, you joined the FBI to make a difference, to have a bit of adventure, use that incredible talent of yours to solve the world’s problems and not just triple bypasses. So, why are you stuck in Quantico again, dissecting gangland executions for needy DOJ prosecutors who got their short hairs in a twist because they didn’t protect their informants well enough?”

Scully nearly choked on her own spit as Carter dropped them neatly between them, all tweed and pearls, as cooly as she was discussing the weather. “Well, I’m here because that’s where the FBI assigned me after Agent Mulder’s unfortunate fall out and the closing of the X-files.”

“Are you seriously happy here, though, doing work any city examiner could do while teaching green-faced cadets how not to puke at the sight of blood and guts coming out of a corpse?”

“Is it what I’d like to do, no, but I’m knowledgeable at it.”

“I’m knowledgeable at how to make a good cuppa and not dribble on myself and yet you don’t see me at tea parties.” She sniffed mildly, disdain evident. “All this talent wasted because the FBI wanted to reign you in and shut you up. Are you really content accepting that?”

“And what, leave? To do what? Work for you?”

Carter only arched one dark, elegant eyebrow.

“I’ve never done the work SHIELD does. I’m a pathologist who has some skills in an ER, that’s about it.”

“You also have some knowledge on a virus known as ‘Purity Control’ correct?”

How in the hell did Carter know about that? “I’ve seen it, yes, but the evidence I have for it is gone now.”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is. But, I can help you and Mulder find it again.”

“How? His contact has already been killed.”

“Because the FBI has no idea what they are dealing with, but I do. SHIELD has been fighting them for decades. And I’m offering a chance for you to come alongside Mulder to keep up your work.”

Keep up their work? Opening the X-files?

“What is it that SHIELD does again?”

“A little bit of everything, Agent Scully, but primarily we protect, just like every good shield does. Things, places, but mostly people. We are what keeps the world safe at night, able to live another day, because there are things out there that are far bigger than armies or governments, and threats that no one could even predict or begin to understand. We are the first line of defense, and if we are lucky, the only one they ever meet. That’s the idea, anyway, and I should know, as I helped found the bloody place.”

Found? Scully’s eyes went impossibly wide as she stared at the woman in front of her. “You...helped to found SHIELD?”

“Why yes, darling, else the thing would have never gotten off the ground, though I daresay without Chet and Howard we’d have failed even getting that far. The threats didn’t end because Hitler was dead. There needed to be an organized group that could handle these sorts of bigger-than-life threats, ones that all the superpowers caught in their Cold War were too busy to pay attention to. Thus, SHIELD was born.”

All Scully could think in the heat of the moment was that the Gunmen would die of absolute envy at this moment.

“So you want Mulder to help you stop global threats?”

“Fox Mulder isn’t the only one we want.”

Scully knew it was coming, but even when the other shoe dropped, she still felt stunned. “I’m just a forensic pathologist. We are a dime a dozen.”

“You are a gifted scientist, a talented doctor, and you’ve managed to keep up with the likes of Mr. Mulder for over a year, which knowing his reputation I say is an impressive feet. Beyond that, I’ve seen your work. You have a clinical mind and a meticulous investigatory brain and I want it. The Bureau is wasting what talent they have here throwing you at gangland killings and raw recruits, you have more to offer than that.”

Scully glanced down at her scrubs, then at her desk, the piles of papers stacked in the corner, the notes scribbled across a legal pad, the tape recorder with her verbal notes on it from her autopsy. She hadn’t minded returning to the lab, really, but if she were honest with herself, she missed the field work she had been doing with Mulder, the true investigations, the search for the truth. Besides, if he was going to be working for SHIELD, he would need a minder.

“How is your insurance plan?”

At that, Carter smiled widely. “As long as you don’t mind the occasional experimental treatment, I think you will find it adequate.”

“Good, because you are going to find that Mulder is going to need it.”

[thegeekerynj]

An Occasional Attempt to Read, Discuss and Review the Wonders of Comics

By: John Rafferty, cranky old man, and Fan of All Things Comics

Riding the IND

Designed with the intent to acknowledge the Immense Contribution of the Independent Comic Press, and  highlight a more unique stable of products

==========================================

Short Hops on the IND

Quick looks at books from the Independent Press, when the reviewer has too much on his plate

———————————————————————————-

Seven Secrets #2 (Boom! Studios)

Writer: Tom Taylor   Artist: Danielle DiNicuolo

‘You know, being a Leader, I really expected my decisions to be undermined less.

Really? That’s cute.

Why do I keep you around?

Mainly to hold this. I suspect you have unusually weak arms.’

——————————————————————————————————————————

So, Caspar has been born, and shipped off to be trained, becoming another Secret in the Order of Secrets…

And he comes back. At 9 years old, trained in the martial arts, Smarter, more inquisitive and much more driven than any Initiate before. Training with Keepers and Holders, to become one of them.

And more importantly, to discover his roots.

Taylor’s scripting is tight and fast. He packs a great deal of story into 24 pages. More importantly, he brings Caspar’s story fully around, to the point of Sigurd’s departure. 

The artwork from Danielle DeNicuolo is simply beautiful. I know… I waffled on about how pretty her pencils were last time, but Jeebus, this issue is prettier. It’s almost as if last issue was a test balloon, to see if she had the hook she wanted, and now… well, she’s fishing the pond dry!

This issue ends on a terrific cliffhanger line, one I will not repeat. 

More importantly, one which can mean many things, depending where the story goes.

Suffice to say, I am determined to follow this book. I would suggest you do so also.

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5

======================================================================

Locke & Key ‘…In Pale Battalions Go…’ #1 (IDW)

Writer: Joe Hill   Artist: Gabriel Rodriguez

‘Where did Father find you? Be honest, I shall have the truth soon enough. I best not learn he hauled you out of some sordid immoral hole.

No. Worse. Canada.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Locke & Key.

The story of Key House, on Lovecraft Island, has spanned years, for Key House, itself is older than the Americas. 

The Lockes have forever been the guardians of the Keys to Key House, guarding them against the Evilthat wants to use them… for the Keys are Weapons. Not weapons like guns, and rifles and knives or spears. But Weapons.

Those which have the Power to Destroy. And the Keys DO want to be used.

Joe Hill and Gabriel Rodriguez have taken it upon themselves to bring us another tale in the History of Key House. Thank Gods!

The year is 1918, and the Great War is raging in Europe. Jonathan Locke is 14 years old, and wants to fulfill his destiny, for the Lockes have been represented in every war. As the only son, this is his right, and with the Keys of Key House, there’s no telling what he can do…

Gabriel Rodriguez seems to have decided to leave everything on the battlefield with his artwork. His pages are so expressive, and capture the feel of the World War One era. If the closing splash is any indication, the actual war pieces will be fantastic.

As far as Mr. Hill, what can I say? There has not been a miss, even remotely, in his portfolio… and this latest edition of the Locke Family chronicle is no exception.

My only complaint, it relies on a conceit that the Reader knows the story already, and gives little information about the Keys in play… Now, this is a minor dig, for if the Gentle Reader perusing this truly wants to find the history of Key House, and its family of Guardians, they would merely have to purchase the prior volumes of Locke and Key, and read to their heart’s content.

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶

======================================================================

A Man Among Ye #1 & 2 (Image / Top Cow)

Writer: Stephanie Phillips    Artist: Craig Cermak

‘You might try using the eyes that head, Jack, unless you fancy a new breathing hole. Still I do love the smell of gunpowder in the morning…

——————————————————————————————————————————

Well, this is a pleasant surprise…

A comic about pirates. Not any pirate, not a ‘Jack Sparrow’ type of pirate.

No, this is a look at Captain John ‘Calico Jack’ Rackham, and more importantly, his first mate, Anne Bonny.

The stories of Jack Rackham, Anne Bonny and Mary Read are almost as extensive, and fantastic as those of Blackbeard, William Kidd and Bartholomew Roberts.

What makes Anne Bonny and Mary Read so special is their being successful Female Pirates in a male dominated world. Every bit as strong, independent, and batshit crazy as all the others of their time, Bonny and Read ran the British Navy ragged throughout the Caribbean, while doing so an all-male crew, an amazing feat for the 18th Century.

Stephanie Phillips has certainly done her research, taking this story from the sinking of a British frigate by Rackham and his crew, to the British Governor of the Bahamas, and his plan to capture all the pirates, and execute them. 

Cermak’s art is nicely complementary to the story, however I find it a little trope-y… The Heroes / anti-heroes are pretty, the ‘Villain’ is an ugly brute, and things are a little to clean… This is a pirate story, on the High Seas, there is nothing clean and pretty about this…

But, I digress.

With two issues in, and the British on their tail, Rackham, Bonny and Read have their hands full. Knowing a little of the history here, I am looking forward to seeing how much legend Phillips mixes in with the facts of the raids on the Barbary Coast, the Tortugas, and the shipping lanes.

It’s really nice to see a non-Super, strong Female Led Book. Here’s hoping it gets legs, and readers!

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶

======================================================================

Bomb Queen - Trump Card Part 1 (Image - Shadowline)

Creator - Jimmie Robinson

‘Why the FU*%ing rush? *cough - cough* He’ll be gone like every asshole politician. They’re all the same.

Not this time. Trump changed the Constitution by repealing the 22nd Amendment. He’ll make himself President for Life if he wins this election.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Sweet Jeebus. As if Jimmie Robinson hasn’t fed the zeitgeist enough with cut-off shirts and tiny, tight skirts, now he feeds the fears of America, outlining an America with a lunatic trying to rewrite Democracy… And the need for Bomb Queen to run against him!

This is my introduction to Bomb Queen, the ninth mini-series, each of the earlier ones a titillating wonder of humor and over-sexed action. At this point in her world, the anti-hero has had her own country for Super-Villains, and is now on the run, having beset upon by the World’s Heroes.

Captured by her Clone / Sire (these things are never clear), Bomb Queen is offered a choice, as it were. Run for office against the Orange Horror, or well, you know, because heroes aren’t really heroes…

His artwork is pretty, simple, and clean. There’s a certain elegance about the characters he draws. They’re not overmuscled, although the ladies do have exceptionally large ‘lungs’, which are emphasized by uniform cutouts (a’la Power Girl)…

This book is full of hoots, giggles, belly laughs, and unfortunately, the harsh reality of the 2016 Election. There’s a two page spread which harkens back to the CNN / MSNBC / National Television Network ‘Man on the Street’ interviews, with paraphrased quotes I heard about Trump over his opponents, and over Clinton. The idea that Robinson could make it fit so easily, and fluidly… well it both makes me ill, and gives me pause to want to read much more.

As I said, Jimmie Robinson has grabbed the National Zeitgeist by the shorthairs with this storyline, not because he’s rich, and just can, but because it’s just too soon, and no one will be able to deny the ugly nature of what they are reading.

This is worth a read to see where he takes it, to see if he has the stones to finish what he started, and to see HOW THE HELL Bomb Queen WALKS IN THOSE FRICKIN BOOTS!!!

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶

======================================================================

Cyberpunk 2077  Trauma Team #1 (Dark Horse Comics)

Writer: Cullen Bunn  Artist: Miguel Valderrama

‘Everyone’s resentful of how little money they make. Doesn’t change anything.

We get the call.

We do the job.

—————————————————————————————————————————

As I read this book, and watched the flashes of color race across my eyes, my first thoughts were ‘godsdamn, this guy makes Frank Miller look good!’

Gentle Readers, in my introduction to this book, inside the first 5 or six pages, I was making comparisons between the artist of this book, and the master of dark, splatter mayhem.

Miguel Valderrama has a very special touch to his pencils and inks, maybe he buys them from the same place, perhaps they are fashioned from the same tree and graphite quarry… whatever the reason, the cause, I want MORE!

The biggest difference is the lightness of touch, the fine lines, there are many more, much more elaborate detail than the broad strokes Master Miller uses, however, this is not a complaint. Rather , the observation is more of a wistful longing for a, well, a ‘What if Frank Miller Drew Everything The Way He Drew His Crowd Scenes?

The answer might be found in this book

Cullen Bunn’s story reads like a reality television story. This is a look into the psych eval of the lone surviving member from a Medical Evac Team. This Trauma Team has medics, and soldiers to act as guards, as the areas they are sent into aren’t exactly Beverly Hills, unless the 90210 has been overrun by the Crips and Bloods, and they are eating the shop owners.

As Nadia is running through her memories of the events, we are seeing it in real time, along with the interviewer’s requests for clarification. She appears to be a solid medic, her only concern being getting back in the field. She has a job to do…

Now, at first glance, this could be seen as pretty derivative… like Judge Dredd / Anderson as a Guard / Medic team… BUT… and this is a Big One, the comparison ends with the big helmets and firefights. 

There’s none of the cynicism, or the poking fun at the Government / Branches / Cabinet Offices. Rather, there’s what feels like a genuine look at how being a survivor has effected this character, and how she is going to handle getting back out into the field.

I liked this. I have to say, I went in to this book with some preconceptions, and was happy to see them dashed.  The interactions between the Team characters come across as real, there’s little stilted, unnatural dialogue… and that was a great thing to see.

The twist Bunn slams at the reader on the last page of the book, well, I want to see Issue 2, just to see how this plays out.

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶.5

======================================================================

HEAVY #1 (VAULT Comics)

Writer:  Max Bemis    Artist: Eryk Donovan

‘I’ve got fifteen Hitlers to do away with before the end of the night!

They’re throats aren’t gonna slit themselves!

——————————————————————————————————————————

Have you ever read ‘The Punisher’?

Seen R.I.P.D.?

Put the two together, you’ve pretty much read this book. 

Hyperviolence, set to a redemption arc, while saving the Multiverse from the worst iterations of the Famous (both good and bad… Leonardo DaVinci as a bisexual foot fetishist who uses his genius to become Dictator of the World, and build weapons that are sexual torture devices???!!!???)

The redemption part?? To get to the Other Side, and redeem yourself, you have to partner with, and train the jerk who killed you and your girl, and make sure he doesn’t get killed when you are on the job!

Unless this is what you are into… HARD PASS!

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶

======================================================================

We Only Find Them When They’re Dead #1  (Boom! Studios)

Writer: Al Ewing    Artist: Simone De Meo

Boss, tell me if I’m out of line here, I don’t mind not knowi—

— But what IS this between you and Richter? What happened?

Oh, it’s quite simple, Jason.

She killed my PARENTS.

—————————————————————————————————————————

I was hooked on this book before I got to these lines of dialogue.

I don’t know if it was the absolutely wonderful artwork, the beauty of the layouts, the detail, the ——Oh Hell, Simone De Meo’s artwork grabbed me and held me for the three readings I gave this book. I couldn’t get over the visuals, her place ts of panels, the character sketches… Hell, some of this was downright cinematic.

There are panels, and pages, that made me think of James Gunn’s vision of Knowhere… and that is high praise from me.

Al Ewing, what is there to say. After reading his work on Judge Dredd, i sought out his work wherever I could find it.. This is tough for me, not being a big Marvel Fan, since almost everything he has written has been for the House of the Iron Mouse…

The story, is simplicity. Explorers in Space find the corpses of the Gods. Well, that is as close as they can come to what they are. 

There is a market for their meat, the materials which clothe them, certain parts of their organs, both a legal and a Black Market.

Once a Godcorpse has been identified, the Sutopsy Ships descend upon it, to stake claims. these are monitored by Escort Ships, in place to enforce Government Regulations concerning what can and cannot be stripped from the Godcorpse.

Violate protocols and die.

This is the story of the Vikaam Two, her captain, Georges Malik, his crew, and his plan to find a Living God.

I can’t wait!

Eight Bells… All is well…

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶

======================================================================

Grendel, Kentucky  #1  (AWA /Upshot)

Writer: Jeff McComsey  Artist: Tommy Lee Edwards

‘You believe what Pap said about Clyde?

How he died?

Do I believe a bear killed my Daddy?

No Fuckin’ Way.

——————————————————————————————————————————

1976. Junior Year of High School, my AP English class was assigned ‘Beowulf’ as an Advanced Placement Test read. In the Olde English translation. 

It was an attempt by my teacher, a wonderful elf of a nun, to get her literary stunted students to stretch, comprehend, and recognize themes once they see them, in preparation for the exam and the expectations of college.

2020. As is my wont, I picked up all the First Issues of the Indy Comics at my local purveyor of Four Color Sequential Art, The Geekery.

While running up my near National Deficit weekly Comics tab, my eyes slid across the title, and the gritty cover… Hmmmmm, too much of a draw not to at least give a look, add it to the pile.

In the opening pages of this book, Clyde Wallace has dressed himself in catcher’s mask, chest protector and knee / shin guards (poor man’s body armor), and strapped on enough real and makeshift weaponry (baseball bat with spikes driven through the business end to an M-60 grenade launcher) to make Rambo, Negan and Max Rockatansky run screaming into the night.

Clyde marches into the mouth of a mine…

WHOA! By Hrothgar, King of the Danes… This is Beowulf… In Kentucky!!??!!

Set in 1971, the Beowulf character, Denny, is a veteran of the Viet Nam Police Action, his warriors, well they are an all female biker gang, led by Marnie, a woman his father raised from childhood. The King, Pap, is the Town Elder, and he knows something he isn’t talking about.

Yeah, this is already good, one issue in.

Jeff McComsey has written an offbeat take on the Beowulf epic, taking some very severe literary license with the story lines. The epic heroes and warriors, well, not so much. Relatively amoral, criminal for support, ahhhh lets face it, these guys are all anti-heroes, at best. 

If this were today’s America, I’m not sure I wouldn’t be rooting for the monster.

But I digress.

The artwork by Tommy Lee Edwards is gritty, hard on the eyes, and, well appropriate to the story. His artwork HURTS at times, you can feel the violence, the intent, through the eyes. America in 1971, it was not a pretty place.

As a miniseries (1 of 4, so far), this is worth the read. Too much more, and it would feel like I was prepping for a test again… but I digress.

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶

======================================================================

Inkblot #1 (Image Comics)

Creators: Emma Kubert and Rusty Gladd

‘Sweet Suckleberries!

——————————————————————————————————————————

Her Name is KUBERT. As in Joe, and Adam and Andy and Katie.

That alone earns her the right to a viewing.

The fact that this is a fun little book she co-created with Rusty Gladd, well, that’s a gallon of whipped Italian Sweet Cream on top of the cake!

Give this a shot! Buy it for your little ones, if you have any!  Lie about having little ones, and buy it for yourself! You won’t be disappointed!

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5

======================================================================

Spy Island #1   (Dark Horse Comics)

Writer: Chelsea Cain   Cover / Designer / Supplemental Art: Lia Miternique    Artist: Elise McCall

‘Some people are afraid of the ocean. There’s a word for it: ‘Thalassophobia’. A fear of the open ocean and what lies beneath its surface.

Not me.

I think the ocean’s great*.

*except for the Kraken.

——————————————————————————————————————————

SO. That happened.

There is an area of the Atlantic Ocean, delineated by vertices at Miami, Florida, San Juan Puerto Rico, and Bermuda, which has been the source of many stories concerning the disappearance of airplanes, ships, crews of ship, and unusual activities. This area, lovingly referred to as the Devil’s Triangle, or the Bermuda Triangle, is the source of this tale.

Spy Island is located somewhere inside the Triangle, and it plays host to spies, bad actors, scientists, etc from all nations, some other worlds, and all times.

It’s the story of Nora Freud, Agent for an unnamed country, possibly the USA, possibly not. She is a spy, and so much more. She is also a woman of action, who can perform any assignment given to her.

Including assassination.

Lia Miternique and Elise McCall have put together an artistically gorgeous offering in this book. Between the inserts for the fish, maps, the advertisements and covers, this a visually wondrous.The underwater scenes in and of themselves are masterful, offering a view of the ocean one might actually see off t a Caribbean island.

The story, well it is OK. Lots of self exposition, not much action (the best stuff is in the first 4 pages), this is setting up like a spy thriller, of sorts. DUH, bimbo!!! Look at the title!

It is a first issue, and seems to be tagged for a longer run, so, I’m willing to give Ms. Cain the benefit of the doubt here. She had to have given the artists the perspective to draw from, and I am cautiously optimistic, based on Mockingbird, and her NYT Best Seller Status…

It’s worth a shot, just for the eye candy…

Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶.5

[artificialqueens]

little light (2/8) (Trixya) - Elissa

A/N: The one where Katya is Trixie’s brother’s best friend. Here’s part two!! Enjoy!

Once again, full fic is already up on ao3 if you’re impatient (yekaterinunhhhh). And feel free to come visit me on tumblr if you so desire (tempfixeliza)!!

When Daniel asks his mom if he can go bowling with Katya the next day, she says there’s only one way she’ll allow it.

If he takes Trixie with him.

The woman’s intentions are good, truly. She’s heard the rumors, and though she doesn’t believe most of them after meeting Katya she wants desperately to keep her son from getting someone pregnant. Daniel doesn’t bother arguing with his mother - he doesn’t mind taking Trixie anyway, especially when she brings along Adore and Farrah.

“Is this even legal?” Farrah squeaks from the backseat, where she’s pressed between Adore and one of Daniel’s other friends (he’s such a dick that Trixie hasn’t bothered to remember his name).

“I mean, like, technically ?” Trixie flicks on the turning signal as the car idles at a stop light. “No, you’re not supposed to have four people in the backseat.”

“I’m calling the police,” Katya whispers from the passenger seat. Trixie turns toward her, eyes wide for a moment before she notices the beaming white grin stretch across Katya’s face.

“It’s hot back here,” Farrah whines. Without even looking, Trixie knows exactly what face Farrah is pulling. “And I think Daniel farted.”

“Open a window,” The two in the front seats say at the same time.

A silence falls over the car.

“Freaky,” Adore mutters, leaning over Daniel to roll down the window. Trixie wrinkles her nose at the way Adore’s arms press her breasts together and Daniel not-so-subtly looks down at them. She averts her gaze as the light turns green, and she presses on the accelerator.

“Wait, why am I sitting in the back anyway? This car is half mine!” Daniel leans forward, squinting at Trixie in the rearview mirror.

Adore elbows him harshly in the ribs, shushing him.

“Hey,” he groans. “What the fuck was that for?”

“Just shut up,” Adore rolls her eyes. “Besides, I didn’t even elbow you that hard.”

“You shut up,” Daniel crosses his arms over his chest.

“Don’t test me. I’m from Azusa, I’ll stab a bitch.”

Farrah throws her head back in exasperation. “Oh my God, just hate fuck each other already. I’m so tired of your shit.”

“Okay, gag.” Trixie turns the volume up until the car is shaking with the bass of some CD Daniel had left in the player.

The only spot left in the tiny parking lot when they get to the bowling alley is right next to the overflowing dumpster.

“Hey look,” Daniel pushes Trixie’s shoulder and points at the dumpster. “It’s your home.”

“You’re related to her, dumbass,” Katya laughs, digging in her small leather backpack to fish out a pack of cigarettes. “If it’s her home, it’s yours, too.”

Daniel frowns as Adore and Farrah giggle on their way past him. “Wait up,” he yells, scurrying after them.

Trixie takes the last sip of the drink she brought with her, lingering while the other girl lights her cigarette.

“He really wants to fuck them,” Katya deadpans, taking a drag. She jumps slightly when Trixie chokes.

“I- what?” She manages between coughs.

Katya is standing next to her now, a hand rubbing between her shoulderblades. “Jesus, I wasn’t trying to kill you. But yeah, he thinks they’re really hot. Especially Adore.”

“Weird,” Trixie mutters. It’s hard to concentrate with Katya touching her, even casually. She can’t help but think how much of a mess she’d be if Katya touched her in a different way.

“Why’s that weird?”

Trixie is entranced, watching the way Katya’s lips wrap around the words and then the end of her cigarette. She hears the question, but it takes a moment for her brain to switch back on to realize it’s something that needs an answer.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Adore is my best friend, D is my brother. It’s just weird to think about them interacting without me present.”

“See, mama,” Katya leans against the hood of the car. “That’s the biggest mistake most people make when it comes to relationships of any kind. They forget that they’re dealing with a complete human person who exists and has feelings and interests outside of that relationship.”

“I see your point,” Trixie kicks a pebble with the toe of her boot, sending it forward to make a small ‘plink’  against the side of the dumpster.

“Gotta let people be free.” Katya drops the cigarette to the ground and stubs it out. “It’s the only way to keep them.”

“What about you? Does Daniel want-” The question is nearly inaudible. Trixie isn’t sure she wants the answer.

Katya shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe at one point he did. But if I don’t want him, it doesn’t much matter, does it?” The look she shoots Trixie is meaningful, and Trixie can feel her heartbeat pick up.

In the distance, the late summer sun is sliding down behind the trees. Orange light fills the sky, illuminating Katya so beautifully that Trixie forgets how to breathe for a moment - her hair is delicate, glimmering gold falling around her shoulders. Everything is a bit softer in this light. Her irises shimmer with life, and Trixie’s eyes flicker down to her lips. Katya is looking back at Trixie with the same interest, memorizing the color the sky has turned her sunkissed skin. She takes half a step forward, hand twitching to reach out for Trixie’s waist.

“Are you guys coming in or what?” Farrah calls from the entrance to the bowling alley.

Trixie and Katya lean away from each other, Trixie unable to conceal her shock. Katya’s face is relaxed, collected, and Trixie wishes she were more like her. Wishes she was anywhere near as cool as Katya is.

“Be right in,” she smiles at Farrah before turning back to Trixie. She picks up her bag from the hood of the car, zipping it up. “Gotta let people be free,” she repeats the sentiment as she tucks her arms through the straps. “I know how well D knows that.”

Trixie’s mind is racing, searching for the deeper meaning of the conversation. She’s noticed that Katya’s words aren’t always profound - she tries to keep it upbeat and funny most of the time. But sometimes, like right now, she slips and lets people into her complex mind. Trixie has experienced it on a few different occasions, but this one feels special. A weighty conversation - a peek behind the curtain - and it was just for her.

“You coming?”

Trixie focuses in on the present and sees that Katya has halted her steps a few feet away. “Oh, yeah,” Trixie nods and hurries to her side.

The two girls get their bowling shoes and make their way over to the group. Adore waggles her eyebrows at Trixie, who is trying desperately to ignore the suggestive glances being slung at her from all sides.

Daniel is first up to bowl, knocking down only half of the pins and slumping back to his seat defeated. Farrah goes next, crouching and sending the ball down the lane with both hands.

“That’s not gonna work,” Daniel’s friend snickers as the group waits for the ball to finish its crawl toward the pins.

“Yes it is,” Farrah pouts and crosses her arms.

The group erupts into cheers as all of the pins fall, Adore jumping up to hug Farrah. Daniel high fives both of them, and Katya looks deeply impressed by the feat.

The game continues on, at some point devolving from a contest of who can get the most pins to a competition to see who can roll the ball down the lane most creatively. Daniel’s friend (who Trixie has finally learned is named Chuck) mostly sulks, muttering about how immature everyone is before Farrah manages to shut him up by sitting sideways across his lap.

Trixie has made up a brief but elaborate interpretive dance to the pop song blaring over the speakers on her way up to the lane, bending in half to pass the ball through her knees and careening toward the pins. Her rise from the position is accelerated by the shock of Katya’s hand slapping against her ass.

“I was right,” she calls over her shoulder. “Your little sister’s got a tight ass!”

Trixie’s cheeks are burning, blush creeping down her neck and over her chest as Daniel makes a disgusted face and the rest of the group dissolves into laughter. She’s confused, maybe even… aroused? Is that was this feeling was? The smouldering feeling in the pit of her stomach grows as she walks back to her seat, the place where Katya had smacked her still tingling.

She’d be lying if she told you she was paying attention to much of anything after the slap. Her eyes wander across the group of people gathered near her, but they’re all paying attention to the impressive trickshot that Adore has cooked up and not the way Trixie’s eyes are having difficulty focusing on much of anything besides Katya.

“You okay, Barbie?”

The voice snaps her back to reality and Trixie turns toward Katya.

“Um, yeah, I’m alright.” She isn’t, though. She’s confused about the way her body is reacting to the embarrassment and the stinging pain in her ass cheek, to say the least.

“Somebody liked their spanking a little too much,” Farrah tauntingly whispers into Trixie’s other ear. Trixie huffs and pushes her away, crossing her legs and examining her nails.

“As long as you’re alright,” Katya murmurs before standing. “I just thought I’d check, since you got kind of quiet after…yeah.”

Trixie smiles up at her, “I’m good.”

Katya nods and walks away.

Trixie watches her pick up her bowling ball and head up to take her turn. Her phone buzzes against her thigh and she picks it up, unlocking the screen quickly to see a message from Farrah.

Farrah (9:47PM):

Why didn’t you tell me you liked Katya?

Trixie (9:47PM):

Did Adore tell you? She swore she wouldn’t tell anyone!

Farrah (9:49PM):

Girl, she didn’t have to tell me. You two are so obvious.

Trixie freezes. You two? Katya likes her back?

Katya collapses into the chair beside Trixie after her latest trickshot, a stunning number that included two cartwheels and a somersault and resulted in a 7-10 split. She’s taking deep breaths when she leans her head against Trixie’s shoulder. Trixie tries to calm her heart down, but it’s trying desperately to escape her chest. She’s almost sure that Katya can hear it, if the way she’s smirking is an indication.

“You guys can come to my house, if you want,” Adore says when the group is on the way back to the car. “Since it’s kind of my fault that we got kicked out.”

“They were closing anyway, it’s not your fault.” Daniel defends, tightening his arm around her waist.

“She convinced you to run all the way down the lane and knock all the pins down with your body,” Trixie rolls her eyes. “It might not be only her fault, but us getting kicked out definitely had something to do with the two of you.”

“You’re being mean to me,” Adore frowns jokingly at Trixie. “You’re uninvited.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to come anyway,” she defends as they all pile into the car.

“Fine,” Adore shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

Trixie pulls up under the streetlight across from Adore’s house a couple minutes later, shutting the car off. The group makes their way inside, taking over the kitchen. Adore’s mom had gone to bed hours ago, before they had even finished the first game (and they had played nearly four before they’d been “asked” to leave for the night).

“Trix? Daniel and I are going to build a fire out back, can you bring out the chips and the twelve pack?” Adore fingers are tangled with Daniel’s and Trixie tries to suppress a gag while she remembers what Katya said earlier about letting people be free.

“Just a twelve pack?” Farrah whines. “What about the good stuff?”

Adore laughs, gesturing to the liquor cabinet. “Go nuts.”

Farrah’s eyes light up as she rummages through the bottles, pulling out her favorites and loading them into her arms before running outside.

When Trixie turns around after grabbing the twelve pack, Katya is standing so close to her that Trixie’s entire body collides into her.

“Whoa,” she gasps, hopping backward and clutching her fingers tighter around the twelve pack. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were standing right there.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s my fault,” Katya’s eyebrows crinkle in a way that makes the comment sound all the more sincere. “Sorry, I just wanted to help. I have a habit of being in the way, though.” Her face falls slightly and Trixie feels her heart lurch.

“No! No, you’re not - you’re not in the way. Some help would be great, that’s really kind of you,” Trixie smiles at her, warmth growing in her stomach when Katya’s lips turn up at the corners, too.

“So, chips?” Katya scrutinizes the kitchen counters, searching for food and coming up empty.

Trixie laughs and walks over to a high cabinet, pulling it open. “Adore’s mom hides them. She’s always on a diet and thinks that everyone else in the house should suffer, too.” Trixie leans back against the counter opposite the cabinet.

Katya has to stretch onto her tiptoes to reach into the high space, her shirt lifting to show a sliver of her abdomen. A tattoo pokes out from the waistband of her jeans, just barely the edge of a tiny art piece. A glimpse small enough that if Trixie hadn’t been hyperfocused on her skin, she might’ve missed it.

“Is that a tattoo?”

Katya drops the chips to the counter and turns to face her, “It is. It’s not the only one, either.”

Trixie’s face must convey her surprise, because Katya starts to laugh. “Are you that shocked? Didn’t your mother tell you that I’m a bad influence?”

“Well, she said something about it, but…” Trixie rubs her neck, looking down at the floor.

“But you didn’t believe her?”

Trixie nods. Her eyes lift to Katya, where she’s moved forward so that her face hovers just inches away. She holds her breath as she scans the Katya’s eyes.

“Believe it, Barbie.”

And then she’s gone out the back door with the bags of chips, leaving Trixie standing in the middle of the kitchen with only a twelve pack of beer and a burning desire to know Katya better.

Trixie doesn’t think of herself as a good kid, really. She’s heard all the kids in her class calling her a teacher’s pet, or a goody-two-shoes - she’s never believed them. But when she thinks about it now, she can see how little she knows about being… bad. Katya seems to know a whole lot about it, between the cigarettes and the tattoos, and the rumors that fly around town with reckless abandon. Rumors Trixie had never paid much mind, until now.

Katya turns around in the doorway and shoots Trixie a wink before wandering out toward the fire.

What the hell has she gotten herself into?

[pointlessdedication]

An Untitled Story Pt. 3

So what happens after Dan collapses? Find out now! (it's 1802 words long, i really hope u like it)

Phil

The Uber finally arrives after what felt like the longest two minutes in the world. I hurry to the car with Dan wrapped in between my arms. The driver opens the door and I carefully help Dan inside. He is gasping for air and crying and I am freaking out. I run to the other side of the car, open the door, get in and yell to the 20-year-old boy to hurry up. I get on the phone and rush the words as I try to explain to Doctor Michigan the situation. We finally arrive to the hospital, and thankfully the doctor has sent an emergency team to receive us. They quickly put Dan on a gurney and run towards the entrance. I follow and I try to understand what they are mumbling and what they are giving Dan but all I can think is that he is in pain. I follow them until they tell me that I have to stay behind. I protest. “WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? I WON’T LEAVE HIM ALONE. HE NEEDS ME. I NEED HIM. YOU NEED TO LET ME IN. RIGHT. NOW.” I’m screaming. I’m yelling so loud I’m pretty sure the entire hospital can hear me and I don’t care.

“Sir, please let go of my arm. You need to stay here if you want us to help him,” A woman says.

I realize only then that I’m squeezing her elbow in between my fingers. I let go like all of a sudden her arm is on fire.

“I’m sorry,” I step away from her and stare at her hair as they take Dan away.

––––

It’s been an hour and I still haven’t heard news from Dan but of course I had already googled all that I remembered. I encountered quite a few results. I got to the conclusion that the one that made the most sense was that Dan’s chest had filled with “liquid". A classic symptom of lung cancer as the webpage described it. I had gone through so many results my head was in quite a lot of pain. It was when I had decided to go get some food that I saw Doctor Michigan coming out of the crystal doors where I had last seen Dan. His caramel eyes were wide and he was in a blue suit.

“Hi, Phil,” he greets me with kind eyes and a discrete smile.

“How is he?” I do not have time for formalities right now.

“He is okay. You got here just in time. His lung would’ve collapsed had you gotten here a bit later. His chest filled with liquid. It’s normal, when it comes to lung cancer, I’m afraid. I was actually surprised Daniel hadn’t had an episode like this yet. But he is stable now. You can come see him, if you wish,” he points at the elevator. “Floor 5, room 507, I believe.”

I'm so angry and frustrated but also extremely relieved. I feel like my knees are going to give in so I sit back on the chair.

“Is this going to happen again?” I try to ask with my kindest tone.

“We’ll give him some drugs to control it, as I said before, it is extremely common for a patient with lung cancer to suffer from episodes like this. The gdfgdjf will have to be increased too, of course, we don’t want him to have gastritis too, now do we?” He forces a laugh. I just stare at him. “In any case, I will explain the new treatment with more calm later. I wish Daniel to stay here for a couple nights for observation. I want to see how the medicine works for him and if it’s the right one for his state. Wouldn’t want to send you fellas home with a nonfunctioning drug, huh?” He chuckles again. “Well, I’ll stop by later. He needs to rest,” he looks at me intently. “I’d say you let him sleep the rest of today and I’ll see you tomorrow first thing in the morning.”

“What about the new medicine?” I asked with a monotone voice.

“It’s already been administered to him. I can explain everything right now if you wish so, but I think it would be better to do so when Daniel’s awake,” he looks at me expecting an answer. I just nod. “Well then, until tomorrow,” he says and then he leaves. I stare at him until he goes behind the crystal doors.

My hands are shaking and a numb feeling has spread down my legs. What did he mean by ‘a bit later’ and how could he casually suggest the possibility of Dan’s lung collapsing? Why would he use the term ‘normal’ when there is absolutely nothing normal about having a malign tumor eating the life out of you? How could he laugh at Dan’s condition? Was it a nervous laugh? Was he trying to make me feel better? Lighten the mood? It clearly didn’t work. What a stupid way to refer to Dan. “Daniel”, the guy with an almost collapsed lung and borderline gastritis. Ha ha ha. Hilarious.

––––

The next morning I wake up with a cramped neck and an almost unbearable backache. I look towards the bed where Dan’s chest is slowly rising and falling. I get up and stretch my arms and legs. My back is certainly going to hurt all day. I walk towards the bed and push Dan’s fringe back, away from his forehead. He looks so peaceful, completely unaware of what could’ve happened had we gotten to the hospital ‘a bit later’. I grab my phone from the table across the room, it’s 8am and I have a missed call from Dan’s mom. I called her as soon as the crystal doors closed after Dan and then again after doctor Bitchigan had explained to me what had happened to him and I was able to assure her Dan was stable. She was in America when the incident happened and had booked a flight as soon as I informed her what had happened. I call her.

Dan

I wake up to the sight of Phil pacing and talking quietly on the phone. I assume he's talking with my parents so I close my eyes and pretend I'm still asleep because I want to know what the fuck happened yesterday. I can feel tubes coming out of different parts of my body. I try to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that is spreading in my chest. I would tell Phil if it started feeling anything like it felt yesterday, but what I’m feeling now is just an echo of the hell I was in. I can feel the warmth of the sunlight dancing on my face and I turn my head towards the window trying to absorb as much of it as possible. Phil notices.

“Yeah, I think he just woke up, give me a second,” he says to the person on the phone. “Dan, Dan are you awake?” He whispers very close to my face. I don’t reply. I’m not ready to face his eyes. “Oh, I guess he’s not.” I can feel his hand on my shoulder. “Yes, he looks a lot better,” he traces the dark circles under my eyes with the tips of his fingers, “but he does look tired. No, he slept all night, the doctor asked me not to disturb him. Yes, I did sleep in the room; a nurse came in twice in the night to check on him… No, no he hasn’t come by, he said he would first thing in the morning… Yes, I know, I already texted him but he has not replied. Yes, okay, I’ll see you soon then. Right, sure, take care, bye,” he hangs up and sighs.

Phil

I sit on the couch and stare at Dan. The dark circles under his eyes are a deep purple and his lips are so dry they’ve parted in the middle. I can see his heart rate in the IVM machine and it’s steady. That makes me feel better. I unlock my phone and text Doctor Bitchigan.

Dan’s mom will be here in an hour, please do let me know when you are arriving. I’m sure she’ll want to know about the new medications and all that. Thank you. -Phil L.

I lock my phone and get up again. I rumble though my backpack for change; though one of the tubes connected to Dan’s body is supposed to keep him hydrated the state of his lips makes me think it’s not doing its job properly. I head for the door and towards the pharmacy at the lobby.

Dan

I hear the door close and for a second I wonder if either the doctor or my mom have arrived but when the room is submerged in absolute silence I realize Phil left. I open my eyes again and look around the room. The couch where I’m guessing Phil slept in is smaller than a loveseat and I feel a pinch of guilt in the pit of my stomach. He could’ve gone home, he should’ve. I take advantage of the fact that I’m alone to see what they’ve done to me. There are tubes under my nose, and a needle on the inside of my elbow connected to a bag filled with transparent liquid. I feel a burning sensation on the inside of my throat, like somebody stuffed my mouth with shredded glass. Last night I thought I was going to die, there is no doubt in my mind, and I wasn’t ready. All I could l think about was how easily and rapidly everyone would forget me, no trace of my existence left; nothing worth reliving anyway. I feel the crushing fear again; I’ve felt it ever since I found out I had cancer but last night made everything seem more present. I hear my heartbeat race and try to steady it with no success when the door flies open. Phil rushes in with a plastic bag in his hand.

“Is everything okay?” He’s out of breath.

“You mean, besides the fact that I almost die last night? Yeah, everything’s tip-top!” I say dripping sarcasm.

“Not funny Dan, here,” he says handing me the plastic bag, “I got you some Chapstick, your lips look like they are about to fall off.” I take the bag and rumble inside to find the Chapstick. There’s also Haribo in it.

“I can’t believe I almost died and yet, you still somehow managed to find time to buy snacks, it’s truly an impressive skill, Phil,” I apply the Chapstick and my lips feel relieved.

“You were out of any immediate danger already and it was next to the register, let me be,” he replies opening the bag of Haribo.

[lavotha]

There are always two sides to a story

In Zen thinking, “Nothing is what it seems” is why you should question everything, as people’s intentions are not always clear. Or, simply said: Don’t judge a book by its cover!, a phrase dating back to the mid-19th century.

I was a competitive swimmer for my local club in the suburbs of Buenos Aires during my teens, and I love to swim in rivers and especially in the sea. So, I can best explain how this unprecedented world situation feels to me, by comparing it with getting caught in an undertow at the beach, sucked under a big wave. You get disoriented while the wave holds you down for what seems several eternal seconds until it lifts you again a few feet out, behind the breaking wave. Your heart is literally in your throat, and you feel like a puppet. The best is to try to keep calm, and then swim upward to the surface. You swallow the salty water getting choked, but then you spit it out and breathe again!

On December 31, 2019, Chinese authorities alerted the World Health Organization of pneumonia cases in Wuhan City, Hubei province, China, with an unknown cause. Immediately after you start hearing alarming news announced by “so-called” experts, that the virus will infect and kill millions, based on unproven facts and faulty comparisons, later refuted. Panic ensues crowding the health care system in affected countries. Instead of helping those nations to cope, the world goes into lockdown! Every man for himself. Information comes fast and pounding like a giant wave, more like a Tsunami that spares nothing on its path!

Nothing gets media coverage but “the virus” as if nothing else matters in the world. (I refuse to use its proper denomination because it is getting far too much PR from everybody else.) Drowned under waves of sensationalist news, you have to gain your calm, reflect, sort out the information, and find the real facts, compare, and form a personal opinion. Then start searching avidly and systematically for the other side, because there are always two sides to a story, never forget that!

Fear is a powerful drug

An experienced journalist friend of ours told me recently, “There is no oxygen in the media for other opinions at this time.”  The counting of the virus victims worldwide is published everywhere, day-in-and-day-out obsessively and relentlessly, as never done before! It plays on the fear of dying most of us have, causing extreme anxiety, known as Thanatophobia. (In Greek language, Thanatos refers to death, and Phobos means fear.)

Having lived under the military ruling in Argentina during my youth, I know by experience that fear is a powerful drug used by totalitarian regimes. The goal is to create an enemy, real or perceived, and then offer protection, demand total obedience, and end up exerting massive control of the population. I reacted to the present situation with the same alarm bells ringing in my whole body. How comes that with viruses every season and a plethora of other illnesses, there has never been daily worldwide public counting? Immediately, I ask myself: Are they trying to create panic and scare us purposely?

Respect other people’s opinions but dare to voice yours!

My moral values, my principles, my deeply set beliefs that have served me all my life are the underlying truths on which I base my dealings with the world. When somebody starts challenging those values and beliefs, I immediately question, especially when they are testing my fundamentals of humanity. I may not get the answers, but I will keep challenging. I have been an avid reader since a young age and I am very curious. I ask so many questions that my husband says I am like a 5-year old child. Well, I nurture that child inside me and hope it never leaves me, because it helps me in my quest for truth and meaning, particularly during difficult times.

Daniel Patrick Moynihan said: “Everyone is entitled to his opinion, but not his own facts.” I do respect other people’s opinions, but at the same time, I am more of an independent thinker. However, through the years, I learned the hard way that it is better to encourage dialogue, not hostility. You do not grow and evolve by arguing with others, but by gaining new insights, exchanging opinions, and perspectives.

You are guided in your reasoning by your experiences, good or bad. Writer B.J. Neblett said: “We are the total of our experiences. Those experiences – be they positive or negative – make us the person we are at any given point in our lives. And, like a flowing river, those same experiences, and those yet to come, continue to influence and reshape the person we are and the person we become. None of us are the same as we were yesterday, nor will be tomorrow.”

Are we losing our humanity?

I remember growing up in Buenos Aires, whenever a friend or member of the family was ill, everybody in his entourage took turns in keeping him company in the hospital or at home. Are we now being asked to leave suffering people alone? It is common knowledge that human contact helps healing, a gentle embrace, touching a hand can not only lower stress levels but also boost the immune system and promote healing. Will the human touch become obsolete? Are we going to treat every illness, every virus through isolation? Are we losing our humanity?

Humanity is the human race, which includes everyone on Earth. It also defines the qualities that make us human, such as the ability to love and have compassion by helping one another, and not be a robot or alien.The word humanity is from the Latin humanitas for “human nature, kindness.” Humanity is about caring for and helping others whenever and wherever possible; it means giving a hand when they need it the most; it is about extending unconditional love to each other and every living being on Earth. Humaneness is the quality of compassion or consideration for others, people, and animals.

Love your neighbor as yourself – Mark 12:31

Do you believe that we find strength through unity? I certainly do, but it seems to have been replaced by Run for cover and forsaking all others save yourself! In the name of the good of all, most countries agreed to go into confinement, some more than others, at different stages, in a domino effect. The slogan everywhere is: Stay home until we say so! It seems incredible that this is happening on a worldwide level!

Life in Monaco under lockdown since March 17 is calm and very civilized. I just learned it will go on till May 3. The Prince’s Government has confidence in the population and vice versa, and decide the best way to protect the people. The Mayor and his team efficiently reorganized our local market in respect of social distancing measures. Additionally, they put together a vendors’ delivery system, including pharmacies, plus meals home delivery for those who need it. The Princess Grace Hospital created a special unit to treat patients affected by the virus who need extra care.

Additionally, they offer treatment consultation online for outpatients who remain in their homes, thus avoiding overcharging the hospital. The Government strengthened psychological assistance by establishing a call center providing support during self-isolation. I find it to be a very conscientious overall approach to the situation.

We may go outdoors for brief exercise or jogging or walk the dog, allowing our bodies to absorb the necessary Vitamin D from the sun, breathe fresh air, and feel alive. The Government demonstrates they care for the overall health of the people over and beyond the virus threat, applying common sense. We made the right decision moving to Old Europe end of 2003.

View of the Monte-Carlo Casino, April 5, 2020 @Celina Lafuente de Lavotha

The market in the Condamine organized during confinement, Monaco, April 5, 2020 @Celina Lafuente de Lavotha

Remnants of the Grand Prix installations in Port Hercule, Monaco, April 5, 2020 @Celina Lafuente de Lavotha

Deserted street in the heart of Monte-Carlo, Monaco, April 5, 2020 @Celina Lafuente de Lavotha

Boulevard des Moulins with its empty boutiques, Monaco, April 5, 2020@Celina Lafuente de Lavotha

In some countries, confinement rules are far stricter, and in some cases starting to be highly oppressive, forcing authoritarian practices on their people. Civil liberties that took so much effort to conquer are being challenged. While we are in a safe and comfortable position in the Principality, I do care what happens to other fellow citizens around the world, and it has direct consequences on all of us because we are interconnected.

On the other side of the spectrum, Sweden chose not to lockdown, exercising the right to national autonomy versus totally adhering to, what seems, harsh authoritarian “new world order” demands. The Government issued sanitary guidelines, but is totally confident on their people to take responsibility themselves.

While I agree that our planet is getting a deserved rest from our overconsumption, people around the world are already suffering the catastrophic consequences of the lockdown at a social, health, and economic level. In many countries, small and medium-sized businesses will face foreclosure, unable to ride the mounting crisis.  The stock market is a roller coaster crushing many. Has the world economy been purposely reset? If so, who will benefit? Follow the money. (A catchphrase in the film All President’s Men, 1976.) 

People living from paycheck to paycheck are not even able to buy goods to endure the quarantine. Millions are already losing their jobs everywhere, and with that, their sanity and livelihood, suicide, and domestic violence are on the rise, healthy people are suffering in isolation, many in very tight quarters. The bells of the church continue to ring calling worshipers but nobody is allowed in at a time they need it the most. These issues and many others are not making headlines in the media saturated by the virus.

Everybody anxiously wonders when this kind of house arrest will end in his or her country. It makes my skin crawl when I hear proposals of massive mandatory vaccination against “the virus,” as a certificate to get out of confinement, followed by tracking and digital control of the population. Isn’t compulsory vaccination against our human rights? Do we want biometric ID systems and big data algorithms to control our lives?

Keep close to nature’s heart!

I grew up in Argentina, playing the entire time outdoors; I could not wait to get out of the house and meet my friends on the street. We drank water from a hose, played in the dirt, run in the fields, and climbed trees! We got runny noses when we had a cold; we stayed in bed a few days, had plenty of vegetable soup and chamomile tea, and lots of gentle cuddling. Our smart and adaptive immune system did the rest. My adorable grandma, who was from Spain, told me that our body is a fortress with guards who run from place to place, seeking for invaders! She nurtured the belief in my immune system. I often say that living in a developing country helped me build antibodies that ward off diseases!

But do not take just my word for it; research shows that spending time in nature is good for our bodies, minds, and spirits. That makes me wonder why we are all under forced quarantine, not only people who are ill but also the majority who are healthy. Most don’t have sunny balconies, houses with gardens, or villas with a pool and lots of space, or live on a farm or in the mountains. Research indicates that social isolation and loneliness can affect physical and mental health, and long-term isolation even increases the risk of premature death. That makes me wonder: Is placing healthy people in quarantine worsening their health more than the virus itself? Every life matters!

I invite you to read an interesting article from Harvard Health Publications titled “A prescription for better health: go alfresco,” as well as studies published in the Journal of Environmental Psychology, that acknowledges the value of spending time out in the sunshine.

The benefits of being outdoors are many. To start higher levels of Vitamin D from direct sunlight, which is known to help fight off osteoporosis, cancer, and depression, and can modulate the innate and adaptive immune responses. It offers the potential for faster healing, as spending time in the sun could help you get over an illness or injury faster. Studies show that those exposed to more natural light have quicker recoveries and experience less pain than those exposed to artificial light.

When we are outside, we are more likely to engage in physical activity than being indoors. Going outside can get your brain moving thanks to the sensory stimulation that nature provides, providing a better sense of overall health. Psychologist’s studies link time spent out in fresh air and sunshine to greater vitality, thus helping our bodies become more resilient to illness. Spending time outside greater feelings of happiness – We have a natural connection to living things, so when we are out in nature, we feel we belong in our environment and foster a sunny disposition.As said in an article by the University of Rochester, “Being outside in nature makes people feel alive.” 

Yes, I do comply with the current social distancing and quarantine rules; we eat healthy thanks to living with a man who loves to cook, I take extra vitamins, go briefly for a jog outdoors, and workout inside to keep in shape. But that does not mean I stopped thinking and questioning!

Today’s Quote 

“No oppressive order could permit the oppressed to begin to question: Why?” Paulo Freire

Postcards from confinement

I am grateful for my friends around the world for contributing photos from their towns. I hope we will all be able to regain our freedom and visit each other soon!

Nice, France – Olivier Huitel, Chrystal Pictures

The man and the sea, Nice, France April 9, 2020@OH Chrystal Pictures

The lonely beaches, Nice, France, April 9, 2020 @OH Chrystal Pictures

Promenade des Anglais, Nice, France, April 9, 2020 @OH Chrystal Pictures

The priest outside his church, Nice, France, April 9, 2020 @OH Chrystal Pictures

Bergen, Norway – Joaquin Tiago

Bergen, Norway last week in February 2020@Joaquin Tiago

Bergen, Norway (2)last week in February 2020@Joaquin Tiago

Buenos Aires, Argentina – Juli Urmenyi

El Obelisco, Avenida 9 de Julio, Buenos Aires, Argentina April 5, 2020@Juli Urmenyi

Children’s park closed, Buenos Aires, Argentina April 5, 2020@Juli Urmenyi

View of Tribunales from Plaza Lavalle, Buenos Aires, Argentina, April 5, 2020 @Juli Urmenyi

Paris, France – Lorene Edelstam

Voltaire observing the tourists Paris April 5 2020 @Lorene Edelstam

The lonely jogger along Quai Anatole France, Paris, April 5, 2020. @Lorene Edelstam

Lonely tourists strolling by an empthy Les Deux Magots, Paris, April 5, 2020 @Lorene Edelstam

Lockdown park in Paris, April 5, 2020 @Lorene Edelstam

London, UK – Ella Montclare

Pink masks and pink flowers, Kensington Gardens, London, UK, April 7, 2020 @Ella Montclare

The masked jogger along Serpentine Lake, London, UK April 5, 2020@Ella Montclare

Lonely Jogger passing Prince Albert Memorial, Kensington, UK April 5, 2020 @Ella Montclare

Swans practising social distance at the Round Pond, Kensington, London, UK April 5, 2020@Ella Montclare

From my Rear Window, Nothing is What it Seems There are always two sides to a story In Zen thinking, "Nothing is what it seems"

[one-of-us-blog]

Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)

Today Drew is forced to watch and recap 1997’s Tomorrow Never Dies, the eighteenth James Bond adventure. Breaking news! A media mogul has set his sights on expanding his news empire, but sources indicate there’s some seriously unethical journalism going down! You’ll never believe what happens next! Can Bond stop the presses in time to save China? Wait a second, what the hell does China have to do with any of this?

Keep reading to find out…

Eli, you’ve done it again! Twice! Both of your latest recaps were fantastic, and I completely agreed with your thoughts on both of them. “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot (Less) Like Christmas” is very forgettable, and you were very generous with your rating. You’re the personification of Christmas generosity! But on a more serious note, “Camp Town Races Aren’t Nearly as Much Fun as They Used to Be” (this show has got to cut it out with these long titles) was the episode I was least excited for you to watch, because I really just hate most of it. Like you said, they make Blanche be awful so she can learn a lesson, but it still sucks to see her act that way. I can’t help but think of “Mixed Blessings” from the original series, which had Dorothy act like a racist in sacrifice of the plot despite that completely going against her character. Episodes like this suck, and I’m glad it’s behind you. There are still a few bumps in the road ahead of you, but I can’t wait to read your next couple of recaps! God bless us, everyone but Oliver!

Buttocks tight!

Screenplay by Bruce Feirstein, Nicholas Meyer & Daniel Petrie Jr., film directed by Roger Spottiswoode

We start off very specifically in A Terrorist Arms Bazaar on the Russian Border, which MI6 is spying on. M has her boys identify the terrorists in attendance and they do good work, but then she’s informed by Admiral Dickhead that this is now a military matter and they’re going to bomb the bazaar to hell and back. M protests, stating that she still has a man on the ground (I wonder which one?) but the admiral tells her says she’d better hurry up and get him out of there because these bombs ain’t stoppin’. The man on the ground tells them it’d be a bad idea to blow this popsicle stand, because one of the jets up for sale at the bazaar is equipped with nuclear torpedoes and hitting those sorts of things with a missile is usually a bad idea. M tells the admiral to call off the bombing, but his boys say the missile is already out of range and can’t be recalled. M is used to cleaning up the messes of men in power, so she takes charge and tells Bond (he’s the man on the ground, in case you hadn’t guessed it) to get out of there. Bond can’t just leave these nukes lying around, though, so he stirs up some trouble at the bazaar, steals the jet and flies it out of Dodge before the whole place gets blown up by that pesky missile. Aside from some trouble from the terrorist copilot sitting behind him trying to strangle him and another terrorist trying to shoot him down in a jet of his own, it’s a pretty smooth getaway! Bond takes care of his last few problems by ejecting his copilot into the other jet and we head into our opening credit sequence.

Woah, I must have just jacked into the Matrix, because these opening credits are futuristic as hell! Streams of numbers, x-rays and lasers abound! Sheryl Crow belts out “Tomorrow Never Dies” while computer chip ladies wiggle around and CGI bullets fly out of computer screens hanging all over the place. Did this movie come out in 1997 or 2097, amiright?

After that trip to the future we cut to the H.M.S. Devonshire which is tooting around the South China Sea. We cut back right as things hit up, because the Devonshire is targeted by Chinese jets. The jet pilots say the Devonshire is in Chinese water and they’re gonna get some trouble if they don’t leave, but the Devonshire’s captain insists they’re in international waters and don’t have to listen to nobody. But, uh-oh, a sudden cutaway to the Carver Media Group Network in Hamburg lets us know that somebody’s messing with the Devonshire’s GPS, making them think they’re in international waters when we’re they’re all up in China’s business. We then cut to a sub, where a handily expositional crew lets us know that they’re going to send a stealthy little drill to donk up the Devonshire the next time the Chinese jets get close. The crew goes so far as to let us know the intention here is to make the British think the Chinese sank the ship, which is very helpful to me, a dumbass. The plan goes off just like these supporting characters just told us it would, and the captain of the Devonshire radios HQ to let them know they were sank by the Chinese before abandoning ship. These Carver goons aren’t done, though, as they blow up one of the Chinese jets with British missiles. I got no expositional warning that this was going to happen, so you can imagine how flabbergasted I was by this development. The Carver goons retrieve some missiles from the sunken Devonshire, and they gun down all but 17 survivors.

In Hamburg, Elliot Carver (Jonathan Pryce) himself is typing up his headline for this international incident in real time. So, wait, all of these people have been killed so that Carver can get a scoop on a story? Holy smokes, this might be the dastardliest villain we’ve come across since that guy who was just really good at shooting people. Carver has Skype calls with various people, literally saying out loud that the Carver Media Group is causing chaos all over the world. I’ll say one thing for this movie, having every single detail spelled out to me like this sure is handy. Carver releases buggy software, blackmails the President and causes all sorts of trouble like the little devil he is. He has a little powwow with his buddy Henry Gupta (Ricky Jay) and his henchman Richard Stamper (Götz Otto) and they all agree that everything is going just swimmingly. Carver lets his minions know that the South China Sea incident will be the premier headline for their satellite news network. Carver is going to dominate the news cycle, and, hot damn, just like that, we’ve got our villain’s plot spelled out for us! Man, I’m not gonna have to think for a second while watching this movie!

Meanwhile, Bond is fucking a French professor when he’s called by Moneypenny, who tells him everybody’s in a tizzy over this South China Sea incident. We get a hilarious Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell bit from Moneypenny and M, and then M and Admirable Dickhead get into a shouting match over the missing Devonshire. The admirable is rock-hard to start retaliating, but M wants to know what the hell’s going on before fleets start getting deployed. I guess she missed the first 20 minutes of the movie, because everything’s crystal clear for me, baby! MI6 discovers that Carver’s rag is already blabbing about the incident, and now the admiral’s not the only one hot for retaliation. M is given 48 hours to find out what happened and then China’s going to get a calling card from the British Navy.

M isn’t a dumbass so she thinks it’s a little suspicious that Carver got a headline about the incident out literally right after it happened. We’re told Carver’s got Szechuan beef with the Chinese because they’re the only country who won’t broadcast his media network. Say no more, M, we already know he’s the bad guy! Bond is being sent to Hamburg to attend an event at the CMGN HQ, and M gives us another tasty little morsel of exposition by letting us know that Bond used to date Carver’s wife, Paris (Teri Hatcher). M and Moneypenny are still polishing their comedy routine, and we get a great bit about Bond pumping Paris for information. Bond arrives in Germany, where Q, who’s just a regular man about town these days, gives him a new car with all the usual Q Branch bells and whistles. He also gives him a fancy new cellphone that has a taser, a fingerprint scanner and a remote control for the car.

Bond arrives at the apparent rave going on at the CMGN and is introduced as a banker to Carver. Carver is distracted by the arrival of Wai Lin (the incomparable Michelle Yeoh) from the New China News Agency. Lin wasn’t invited, but she admits to sneaking in so she could meet Carver. Carver is delighted by this, and Bond goes off to meet up with Paris. She gives him a good slap, and we find out that Bond dipped out on Paris and she still holds a grudge. This exposition train just don’t quit! Paris informs Bond she won’t be helping him investigate Carver, but when Carver slinks over she doesn’t blow his cover. Bond can’t play it cool for a second and immediately starts letting Carver know he’s suspicious of him, and Carver lets Stamper know he wants the supposed banker taken care of.

Stamper takes Bond away while Carver makes a big speech about the South China See incident. Carver’s goons beat up Bond in a back room, but he gets the better of them. Bond decides to be an asshole and cuts the power to Carver’s broadcast just for the fun of it. He’s gone before Stamper can get to him, and Carver throws a real hissy on stage. Carver’s pissed when other news networks gloat about his big broadcast getting cut off, and he wants Paris to tell him why Bond acted a fool like that. She tries to keep up the act that she barely knows him, but he sends her to Bond’s hotel room to pump intel out of him. Watch out, M and Moneypenny, I’m snatchin’ up your routine!

At Bond’s hotel, Paris plays him like a fiddle and gets into his pants without having to break a sweat. Carver has Gupta look into Bond’s alias and they figure out he’s a spy. Gupta also caught a snippet of dialogue revealing Paris knew Bond wasn’t a banker, so Carver wants both of them killed. Oh, also, turns out I was an idiot to assume Paris was playing Bond. She’s actually just still in love with him and tells him all about Carver’s secret lab. Bond sneaks into the lab and finds the encoder Carver used to control the satellite that misled the Devonshire. Before he makes it out of the lab he runs into Wai Lin, who’s doing a bit of snooping of her own. Lin trips an alarm and Bond has to deal with a bunch of goons while she uses some Q-esque devices of her own to zip around. Bond makes it out, but then gets a call from Carver. Carver knows Bond has the encoder and that he banged his wife, so Bond heads to the hotel to get Paris out of there. Stamper is monitoring the hotel, and as soon as Bond is out of his car he calls for some more goons to get the encoder.

Bond finds Paris dead in the hotel room, and a CMGN anchor on TV is already broadcasting a story about her body being found alongside the body of an unidentified man. Uh-oh, now Bond knows how the dude from Early Edition felt! Carver’s assassin, Dr. Kaufman (Vincent Schiavelli with a bad German accent), decides to have a little chat with Bond instead of just shooting him, and reveals that the news story is a tape that’s going to be broadcast in an hour. Carver’s goons try to beat their way into Bond’s car while Kaufman keeps talking instead of just taking the damn shot. The goons radio Kaufman and tell him to get Bond to unlock the car, and Bond tricks him into tasering (thanks for letting me know tazing isn’t a word, Google) himself before executing him with his own gun to avenge Paris or whatever.

Stamper spots Bond sneaking out of the hotel, and Bond uses the remote control to steer the car away from the goons. He hops on board and remote controls himself away. He retrieves the encoder from the glove compartment and bails before driving the car off a ledge, causing enough of a distraction for him to sneak away. We cut to an air base in the South China Sea, where Bond meets up with, my god, Jack Wade himself. If I’m forced to see Joe Don Baker in one more movie, I don’t know what I’ll do. Bond finds out that the encoder was tampered with to mislead the Devonshire and figures out where the ship sank. He skydives down into the sea where the Devonshire went down, and I shudder as watching Bond scuba dive through the wreckage of the ship gives me vivid flashbacks to Thunderball. In the wreckage Bond once again runs into Wai Lin, and the two have to make a quick exit before the Devonshire slips off its perch and falls deeper into the sea. On the surface Lin signals for her buddies on a boat to pick them up, but her friend gets a harpoon through the chest and it turns out Stamper is here for some reason. Bond and Lin are captured and handcuffed together on a helicopter that takes them to yet another of Carver’s building. Lin recognizes a Chinese general leaving as they arrive, but then they’re brought before Carver as he’s typing up an obituary for the two of them. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten a dose of exposition, but luckily Carver’s there to inform us that Lin is a Chinese spy. Thank goodness, if I’d had to figure that out on my own this recap might have taken me months to get through.

Carver asks Stamper to torture Bond and Lin a bit while he goes off to meet with one General Chang, but Bond and Lin make a dream team and they easily escape despite still being handcuffed together. If there’s one thing this series loves more than exposition it’s a chase scene, so we get a nice scene of Bond and Lin on a motorcycle being chased by Carver’s goons. They eventually escape and manage to get out of their handcuffs, but then Lin gives Bond the slip by handcuffing him to a post. She works alone, by gummit! Bond catches up to her just in time to see her ambushed by another squad of goons, but she hands each of them their asses with a bow on top. This is a James Bond movie, though, so of course Bond has to arrive at the last minute to save her from being shot by the one goon she hadn’t gotten to yet. Bond deduces that General Chang is working with Carver and wants Lin dead.

Bond and Lin deduce that Carver is going to use the missile he stole off the Devonshire against the Chinese, and they decide to radio their respective governments and let them know about Carver’s schemes. Lin is amazing at her job and figures out that Carver’s stealth ship from the first scene is hidden in Ha Long Bay. Lin and Bond head that way while joking about how Britain is a corrupt western power and communism sucks, because everybody in this movie’s got jokes. They find the stealth ship as it’s heading out at nightfall and plant some bombs on it. Inside the ship, Carver once again explains his plan to pit the British and Chinese forces against each other and starts firing off missiles. Carver spots Lin and sends Stamper to collect her, knowing Bond must be nearby. Bond tricks Stamper into thinking he’s dead by throwing the body of a henchman offboard, and Carver calls for Lin to be brought to the bridge so he can gloat to her about his wicked machinations and do a racist parody of martial arts moves.

Back in jolly old London Town M finally got Bond’s message and lets everybody to know about Carver’s schemes. Carver really drives home his plot by laying out step by step how General Chang is calling a meeting of Chinese government officials, only he’s not going to be there and the meeting will have an unexpected guest in the form of that pesky missile from the Devonshire. We been knew, y’all! Once the government officials are taken out Change will seize power while the British and Chinese fleets destroy each other. What is Carver actually getting out of this? Why, exclusive broadcast rights in China for the next hundred years, of course.

Now, I know at this moment you’re probably asking yourself, “你在跟我开玩笑吗？”, but I promise you, Carver really is doing all of this so he’ll be allowed to broadcast his dumb news network in China for the next one hundred (100!) years. Will Carver be alive in one hundred years? I’m famously not a scientist, but all available evidence points to a solid no. Will anybody give a shit about printed or televised news once the internet takes off in about five years? Some dweebs will still get The New York Times delivered to their houses so they have something to feel smug about, but, I mean, c’mon. Nobody’s going to care about CMGN once news is only a few keystrokes away, and if they’re anything like me they’ll be constantly up to date on all the important world happenings thanks to the reputable and reliable reporting found at Infowars.com (my only trusted news source). Carver’s plan is as shortsighted as it is dumb, which is to say, approximately, ‘as hell’. Now that I’m done roasting this Steve Jobs lookin’ nerd, let’s get back to the show.

Bond holds Gupta hostage and lets Carver know he’s still alive. He proposes to trade Gupta for Lin. Carver doesn’t actually care about Gupta, though, so Carver just shoots him to take away Bond’s bargaining chip. Bond had a backup plan, though, and he sets off a grenade with a Chinese spy watch he stole from Lin’s headquarters earlier. Rude, but effective. The explosion allows a British ship to detect Carver’s stealth ship, and Lin and Bond are able to get away. The British try to shoot Carver’s ship out of the water, but he’s still intent on firing that missile. Lin gums up the ship’s work, making it a sitting duck for the Brits to blow up while Bond tries to blow up Stamper with a rocket launcher that was inside the ship for no reason. It still takes the Brits a few tries despite Carver’s ship not moving anymore, but they finally land a hit and Carver’s goons prepare to abandon ship.

Stamper thinks Bond was killed in the British attack, so Carver sends him off to the engine room to deal with Lin. Bond sneaks over to disarm the Devonshire missile, but Carver gets the drop on him and we get one last bit of sweet, sweet exposition as Carver describes how the missile can’t be disarmed and the Brits are destroying all the evidence of his involvement in all this. He’s going to get what he wants and still get off Scott free! Only, of course he’s not, because Bond turns on the drill that killed the Devonshire and feeds Carver to it. Bond gets to work stopping the missile, but Stamper threatens to kill the now-captured Lin if he doesn’t back off. Lin tosses Bond a handy gadget that will stop the missile from launching (but not exploding) and Stamper drops her into the water to drown while he and Bond tussle. Bond traps Stamper next to the missile and dives down to save Lin as the missile explodes inside the ship, killing Stamper.

M is informed that Carver’s dead but that Bond’s not, and M tells Moneypenny to spin the story to make it seemed like Carver killed himself. M’s just chock full of humor today! A rescue ship looks for Bond and Lin, but they choose to make out instead of being rescued.

The End

~~~~~

Hoo buddy, my sources are telling me this was a bit of a stinker! Maybe it’s just that this is the follow up to the spectacular GoldenEye, but there was a lot going on here that just didn’t work for me. As much as I appreciate having the movie’s plot spoon-fed to me, I think it might have been a good idea to show rather than tell at least once over the course of two hours. There was just so much exposition in this one! And I’m absolutely flabbergasted by how lame Carver’s plot was. We’ve had some stretches in logic from villains in the past, but usually they at least want to get rich or take over the world in something. Carver just cared about being able to broadcast in China! I’m sorry, but a memorable villain this scheme does not make. Michelle Yeoh can’t help but be fantastic in everything she’s ever done so of course I loved her as Lin, and while there were still a few moments where Bond got to save her I still think she held her own much more than most Bond Girls are allowed to. It felt like we were getting a crash course on fridging with the whole Paris thing, but honestly she was so inconsequential to the plot that I’d pretty much forgotten her until I happened to catch her name a second ago while I was proofreading this very recap. As corny and out of place as it was, I actually loved M and Moneypenny constantly trading quips and jokes, and while I can’t say for sure I think this M is getting a lot more screen time than any of her predecessors (which you won’t catch me complaining about). This movie was cheesy and the plot was incredibly silly, but there were still some fun fights (i.e. the ones where Michelle Yeoh got to beat up a bunch of dudes) and as much as I was rolling my eyes I still came away from this film feeling like I’d had a good time.

Overall, I’m giving Tomorrow Never Dies QQQ on the Five Q Scale.

News flash, we’ve got some more wonderful recaps for you to enjoy coming soon! First Eli will be back to cover “Rose and Fern” and “Runaways”, the next two episodes of The Golden Palace (can’t WAIT to read Eli’s thoughts on both of those for [very different reasons]), and then before you can blink I’ll be back to cover the next James Bond movie, The World is Not Enough.

Until then, as always, thank you for reading, thank you for contemplating ethics in game journalism and thank you for being One of Us!

[thebookrat]

Daaaaaamn, Daniel! Back at it again with the bargain books! And the super fresh, relatable memes. I like to keep current.

Anyway: BOOKS! There are so many you guys omg so many book deals. I'm never allowed to take a week off from FYR posts again. Also, there are a ton of contemporary deals that look really great, so take that, internet that says I don't share enough contemporary! Make sure you click through to see the full list of deals!

*** All book covers are clickable, and lead directly to the deal! ***

Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow by Jessica Day George THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE FAIRY TALE RETELLINGS, GET IT GET IT GET IT READ IT NOW

Blessed-or cursed-with an ability to understand animals, the Lass (as she's known to her family) has always been an oddball. And when an isbjorn (polar bear) seeks her out, and promises that her family will become rich if only the Lass will accompany him to his castle, she doesn't hesitate. But the bear is not what he seems, nor is his castle, which is made of ice and inhabited by a silent staff of servants. Only a grueling journey on the backs of the four winds will reveal the truth: the bear is really a prince who's been enchanted by a troll queen, and the Lass must come up with a way to free him before he's forced to marry a troll princess.

Princess of the Midnight Ball by Jessica Day George See above, and also note that you can pick up a whole bunch of other fantastic JDG books right now for $5 or less!

A tale of twelve princesses doomed to dance until dawn… Galen is a young soldier returning from war; Rose is one of twelve princesses condemned to dance each night for the King Under Stone. Together Galen and Rose will search for a way to break the curse that forces the princesses to dance at the midnight balls. All they need is one invisibility cloak, a black wool chain knit with enchanted silver needles, and that most critical ingredient of all—true love—to conquer their foes in the dark halls below. But malevolent forces are working against them above ground as well, and as cruel as the King Under Stone has seemed, his wrath is mere irritation compared to the evil that awaits Galen and Rose in the brighter world above. Captivating from start to finish, Jessica Day George’s take on the Grimms’ tale The Twelve Dancing Princesses demonstrates yet again her mastery at spinning something entirely fresh out of a story you thought you knew.

Stolen Enchantress by Amber Argyle While we're speaking of fairy tale retellings. . .

Any girl who goes into the Forbidden Forest never comes out again. Except the one who did. Larkin should have been watching her little sister, should have paid more attention to the trees looming over her family’s fields. Now Sela is gone. Knowing full well the danger of the forest and its beast, Larkin goes after her anyway. With her sister clutched in her arms, she manages to escape, but not before discovering the truth lurking beneath the wicked boughs. She may have evaded the beast once, but with the full force of his magic now fixated on her, she isn’t sure how much longer she can resist.

Black Swan Green by David Mitchell It's been awhile since I've mentioned it, so allow me to reiterate my love of David Mitchell. BSG was the book that started it for me.

By the New York Times bestselling author of The Bone Clocks and Cloud Atlas | Longlisted for the Man Booker Prize Selected by Time as One of the Ten Best Books of the Year | A New York Times Notable Book | Named One of the Best Books of the Year by The Washington Post Book World, The Christian Science Monitor, Rocky Mountain News, and Kirkus Reviews | A Los Angeles Times Book Prize Finalist | Winner of the ALA Alex Award | Finalist for the Costa Novel Award From award-winning writer David Mitchell comes a sinewy, meditative novel of boyhood on the cusp of adulthood and the old on the cusp of the new. Black Swan Green tracks a single year in what is, for thirteen-year-old Jason Taylor, the sleepiest village in muddiest Worcestershire in a dying Cold War England, 1982. But the thirteen chapters, each a short story in its own right, create an exquisitely observed world that is anything but sleepy. A world of Kissingeresque realpolitik enacted in boys’ games on a frozen lake; of “nightcreeping” through the summer backyards of strangers; of the tabloid-fueled thrills of the Falklands War and its human toll; of the cruel, luscious Dawn Madden and her power-hungry boyfriend, Ross Wilcox; of a certain Madame Eva van Outryve de Crommelynck, an elderly bohemian emigré who is both more and less than she appears; of Jason’s search to replace his dead grandfather’s irreplaceable smashed watch before the crime is discovered; of first cigarettes, first kisses, first Duran Duran LPs, and first deaths; of Margaret Thatcher’s recession; of Gypsies camping in the woods and the hysteria they inspire; and, even closer to home, of a slow-motion divorce in four seasons. Pointed, funny, profound, left-field, elegiac, and painted with the stuff of life, Black Swan Green is David Mitchell’s subtlest and most effective achievement to date.

Wesley James Ruined My Life by Jennifer Honeybourn I'm currently reading Honeybourn's upcoming When Live Gives Your Demons, which, hey, best title ever.

Coworker, childhood friend, and worst enemy: the changing dynamics of friendship (and maybe...relationship?) are front and center in this charming debut novel with equal amounts of wit and heart. Quinn is having a rough summer. Her beloved grandmother has been put into a nursing home, her dad’s gambling addiction has flared back up, and now her worst enemy is back in town: Wesley James, former childhood friend and life ruiner. So when Wesley is hired to work with her at Tudor Tymes, a medieval England-themed restaurant, the last thing Quinn’s going to do is forgive and forget. She’s determined to remove him from her life and even the score for once and for all—by getting him fired. But getting rid of Wesley isn’t as easy as she’d hoped. When Quinn finds herself falling for him, she has to decide what she wants more: to get even, or to get the boy. Wesley James Ruined My Life is an engaging romp through rivalry and restaurants from debut author Jennifer Honeybourn and chosen by readers like you for Macmillan's young adult imprint Swoon Reads

Amid Stars and Darkness by Chani Lynn Feener And I just finished reading the follow up to this, Between Frost and Fury! My relationship with this series is FRAUGHT. I neeeeed you to read it and tell me what you think, because, I mean. . . I had opinions (but I couldn't put it down).

A high-stakes space opera that combines science fiction and romance, this debut novel features plenty of action and a heroine whose unique brand of humor and tenacity make her easy to root for. Delaney’s entire world is thrown into chaos after she is mistaken for Lissa Olena, an alien princess hiding out on earth in order to escape an arranged marriage. Kidnapped by the princess’ head bodyguard, Ruckus, and imprisoned in an alien palace, Delaney is forced to impersonate the princess until Olena can be found. If she fails, it will lead to an alien war and the eventual enslavement of the entire human race. No pressure or anything. Factor in Trystan—the princess’ terrifying betrothed who is intent on unraveling all her secrets—and her own growing feelings for Ruckus, and Delaney is in way over her head. Chosen by readers like you for Macmillan's young adult imprint Swoon Reads, Chani Lynn Feener’s debut novel Amid Stars and Darkness is a thrilling space adventure complete with perfectly detailed alien planets and a super sexy secret romance.

READ MORE AFTER THE JUMP >>> via The Book Rat