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amysteryspot · 4 years

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Don’t know how to stop - Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Prompts: 40. “I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”; 69. “What do you want me to say?” + "Don't Know How to Stop" by Halestorm

Requested by: @sighonahurricane

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Changretta!Reader

Summary: “Or what, Thomas?” she interrupted him, defiance in her eyes as she glared back at him. “We both know you won’t kill me. You want revenge, want to see me suffer or you would have already killed me that night at the warehouse, in front of my father.”

Warnings: Smut/NSFW/+18, mentions of violence, swearing, there's a very brief implied reference to rape

Word Count: 2510

A/N: Not even going to try and find an excuse as to why this is longer than it should be, all you need to know is that I was in the mood. I absolutely loved to write this, but I'm feeling anxious about what you all are going to think of it. Really hope that you like it. For reference, reader is a Changretta and this is set between season three/four. Feedback is very much appreciated as always.

(Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname

English is not my first language and this wasn’t proofread by a beta.

If you want to be tagged in my stories, just send me a message.

She had been the one that faced the Devil. Down on her knees in front of him, begging for her father’s life as he held the knife to her throat.

“One life for another,” she had offered, fingers curling into the fabric of his waistcoat. “You can have me. Do anything you want with me, just spare his life.”

The deal had been made that night, for reasons that Tommy still couldn’t understand, even after all these years. He wasn’t even sure if he had really considered the possibility of killing her, despite the rage clouding his mind at the time.

Vicente walked free, dragged out of the room in tears, at the expense of leaving his daughter behind, a prisoner of war.

Tommy confined her to the guest wing of Arrow House. He didn’t want to see her and be reminded of the reason why he slept in an empty bed now. It was easier to ignore her existence if he didn’t have to see her every day.

His son had other plans though. Somehow, Charlie found a way to escape his nanny and ended up finding (Y/N). Tommy knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into his son’s room to find it empty. It was safe to say that he was seeing red as he climbed down the stairs, calling for Mary and asking about the whereabouts of the nanny and the baby.

The door to her room hit the wall with a loud bang that startled both the women in there and Charlie, who was all curled up in (Y/N)’s arms.

Tommy looked at the nanny, ordering, “Take Charlie back to his room.”

She did as commanded, quickly, even though the boy didn’t seem very pleased with the idea of leaving (Y/N)’s arms. Tommy walked straight up to her, grabbing her tightly by the jaw, and almost lifting her from the ground.

“You don’t get to talk to him. You don’t even look his way or else…”

“Or what, Thomas?” she interrupted him, defiance in her eyes as she glared back at him. “We both know you won’t kill me. You want revenge, want to see me suffer or you would have already killed me that night at the warehouse, in front of my father.”

His hold on her had gone lax but he still kept his hands on her.

(Y/N) continued, “The boy came to me, I’m not going to blame a child for sins that aren’t his.”

Tommy observed her in silence for a minute. The rise and fall from her chest, the way both her hands were circling his wrist, how she didn’t show any sign of fear even though the imbalance in power was evident. He let her go, leaving the room without another world, only to be haunted by the image of her in his dreams.

“Are you going to kill her or fuck her?” Polly’s voice got him out of his trance.

He looked up at her but did not answer, because he didn’t know what to say.

Polly continued, “Because these are the two available options with you. You are either going to kill her or you’re going to fuck her. Considering that you are mourning, I would bet on the second, or you would have killed her already.”

She took a drag from her cigarette, taking her time in exhaling the smoke, before saying, “You men start wars because of your uncontrollable ego, and in the end, is always the women who pay the price of it.”

In the end, both Polly and (Y/N) were right. He didn’t kill her. His aunt’s words have made him realize something better to put a definitive end to this war between them and the Italians: a wedding. What could be worse for Vicente than having to marry his only daughter to a Shelby?

After a year of mourning, Thomas married (Y/N) Changretta, sealing the pact she had made with him for good.

They slept in separate rooms at opposite ends of the corridor. Since she was his wife now, Tommy had to get used to the idea that Charlie would have to be around her, or people would get suspicious. He had never been one to care about what people thought of him, but sometimes it was easier to maintain the appearances than to go against the norm.

If Tommy was worried about having to see her more often now that they shared the same corridor, he was wrong. (Y/N) was like a ghost. He rarely saw her outside of brief encounters whenever he was at home at the time the meals were served, the occasions when he found her in Charles’s nursery, or when she had to accompany at events.

On those occasions, (Y/N) was the image of a perfect, dutiful wife. She was well mannered and educated, making it easy for her to hold conversations with the most different people. Her charm and beauty helped her, and Tommy was surprised at how good she was at making people believe that their marriage wasn’t a sham.

His family and the staff of the house knew better though—all (Y/N) was was spoils of war.

They were surprisingly civil to each other, posing for the public eye as the perfect couple and avoiding each other like the plague at home. When they met at home, occasionally, a polite conversation could end up in a fight. Except for that night when Tommy found Charlie in (Y/N)’s arms for the first time, their arguments never turned physical.

Until one night when Tommy was especially pissed off by something business-related and ended up pressing her up between his body and the wall of her the drawing-room.

(Y/N) had never backed away from a fight, never showed any signs that she was afraid of him. But that night, that night the way she flinched when he touched her and the look of pure horror on her face as she looked at him, made Tommy let go of her immediately.

As he watched her ran away from the room, Tommy realized what must have crossed her mind, and the mere thought of it made his blood boil. The glass of whiskey that was on his desk exploded in a hundred pieces on the wall, before he retired to his room, plagued by the sight of her running away from him.

He tried to be more careful around her after that, always seeking some kind of consent from her before getting too close or touching her. Tommy would never force her to have sex with him, not for revenge, not because she was his wife.

They crossed the line from civil to friendly at some point, maybe after she sassed him because of Lizzie in front of the whole family, making everyone laugh, but he was not sure. What he did know for sure was that he started to see her as more than someone who was there because of a casualty of war somewhere along the way.

It was hard to ignore her after that. It was hard to ignore the beautiful woman navigating the corridors of his house, playing with his son in the garden, handling the staff, helping with the business. It was hard to ignore the woman he tried to avoid for so long, the woman he didn’t want to acknowledge.

He wasn’t sure at what point he had started to consider the idea to fuck her, it just happened. One night, after they arrived from a gala, fighting about something that Tommy didn’t even remember anymore, they fucked against the vanity in her room.

After that first time, it all went downhill. It was like getting high for the first time and then not being able to control the need to take another hit. (Y/N) was warm, soft, willing, and available, and Tommy decided that he wasn’t going to deny himself or his needs searching for other options when he had her right there.

Things escalated quickly and they developed some kind of silent agreement, another deal. During the day, they acted like old acquaintances, respectful, and civil to each other. But after dawn, they would seek each other out, drowning together in a desire that seemed to have no end.

That had been a long time ago, so long that he didn’t remember how it was not to have her around. Long enough for some unrequited feelings to show up.

He did his best to ignore the guy talking to (Y/N). They were hosting a dinner at Arrow House, the man talking to her was some rich bachelor from London that was being a little too friendly to Tommy’s liking. He downed the whiskey in one gulp and noticed Polly watching him, but his attention is quickly drawn back to his wife.

At the end of the night, after all the guests either left for home or to the guest wing and all that is left are the Shelby’s at the parlour, Tommy revels in the feeling of (Y/N) sitting beside him, reclining against the arm he rested behind her shoulders. From the other side of the room, Polly looks at him and smiles, like she knows something that he doesn’t.

It happens the week after the gala. They’re both getting ready for a family meeting. His room became their room, unofficially, because her things were scattered all over the place—her perfume and jewelry on the bedside table, dresses on the wardrobe, lingerie on the drawers, even the sheets smelled like her.

“Tommy,” she exclaimed in a reprehensive tone, as he pressed himself against her back, arms sneaking around her waist and preventing her from running away as his lips trailed down her neck. “What are you doing?”

“Giving some very due attention to my wife,” he answered, casually, walking them both closer to the bed.

“In broad daylight?” (Y/N) gasped, something between surprise and a protest, although she was doing very little to resist his advances.

“Want to see you,” he stated, before turning her around to kiss her.

“Your family is downstairs waiting for you,” she warned against his lips, breath uneven and fingers clutching onto his shirt.

“My family is downstairs waiting for us,” he corrected, nibbling her earlobe and smiling because of the sound she made. “Let them wait. They’re probably too occupied drinking, anyway.”

Any pretense of resistance from her part vanished when Tommy started to unbutton her dress. He was desperate to feel her skin against his, to taste her, and be inside of her. When they were both finally naked and pressed against each other on the bed, it felt like some kind of miracle.

Tommy drank her in, from the blush on her cheeks to the way her toes curled when he touched a sensitive spot on her body. All the scars, the birthmarks, the dips and curves, the softness of her skin, the heady taste of her on his tongue, and how wet she could get for him. He wanted it all, needed all of her.

He was tired to fight against it, tired of pretending that this feeling gnawing on his chest was something else.

“(Y/N/N),” he breaths against her skin, the feeling of her short nails scratching his back driving him crazy. “I love you.”

Her eyes open to stare right into his, something between surprise and uncertainty on her features. Tommy kisses her, gripping her tights a little harder to dive deeper into her.

The whimper of need that comes out of her lips makes him wild. All he can think about is how she feels, how good she feels, how right she feels. Here, underneath him, crying out his name, welcoming him into her body, scratching his back as the both of them get lost in pure pleasure.

All it takes to make her unravel is for him to press the engorged nub at the apex of her thighs. (Y/N) comes undone and brings him down with her, just a few trusts later, her walls milking him from his orgasm, his seed taking place deep inside of her for the first time in a long time because they were too lost in each other to care.

One more time they pretended, dressing in silence and walking down the stairs as nothing more than acquaintances. If his family suspected of something, they didn’t show it.

The meeting went uneventful, as planned. (Y/N) found a way to sneak out of the parlour before him and when Tommy went upstairs to his room—their room—he found it empty.

Sighing, he made his way to the other end of the corridor. He knocked one time, before letting himself in. (Y/N) was sitting in front of the vanity, taking the pins out of her hair. She was already dressed to sleep, the silk nightgown revealing her legs and a bit of the lace underneath. Their gazes met through the mirror as Tommy closes the door behind him.

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I love you.”

(Y/N) takes a deep breath, still not turning around to face him.

“Tom…”

“We’ve been dancing around this for too long, it’s time to face it.”

She sighs, a hand running through her face as she says, “What do you want me to say?”

He is in her in a heartbeat, pulling her up and pressing her against the vanity, just like the first time they had sex. Tommy takes her face in between both of his hands, nose brushing against her as he mumbles against her lips,

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Tom, I can’t. We can’t,” she protests, weekly, eyes closed and hands holding his wrists.

“A little too late for that because I don’t know how to stop this.”

“Your brother blinder my brother, Tommy. Your wife was killed because of that. I’m only here because you wanted my father that and I made a bargain with you. How this is supposed to work. What people will think?”

“Fuck what people think. We are already married, (Y/N). What happened, happened. We can’t change it. But this thing between us, this thing is real. I’ve denied myself that long enough, not going to keep pretending anymore. I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time now and I know, I know that you feel the same, so stop fighting against it and say it.”

Tommy’s lips brush against hers as he repeats himself, half plea, half command, “Say it.”

“I love you,” she whispers, eyes closed tightly as if the words will be less real if she can’t see him.

“Say it again,” he commands, nose bumping into hers while his thumbs caress her cheeks.

“I love you.”

“Again,” the sound is music to his ears and Tommy just can’t get enough of it.

(Y/N) opens her eyes, looks him in the eye, and professes, “I love you, Thomas Shelby.”

He smiles, for what feels like the first time in years, and confesses, “I love you too, Mrs. Shelby.”

Taglist: @stressedandbandobessed7771 @internalmess3 @theshelbyclan @giowritess @captivatedbycillianmurphy

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momo-de-avis · 3 years

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what are 2 books you feel you should be financially compensated for reading (beyond reimbursement for purchasing them)?

hard mode: nothing by zuzas.

now those are high stakes

first of all, this is hard for me to answer because I genuinely cannot read a book through to the end if I don't like it. I won't go past fifty pages if it's annoying me. So there are only a handful of books I can say I hated because I wasted time reading them, and even those I didn't finish.

But there are two, and one of them I actually talk about it all the time

First of all, fuck you, Flaubert. Fuck Emma Bovary. Fuck that book. Not only financial compensation, but emotional of some sort, cause you go through the 7 stages of grief reading that piece of garbage. Not after, during.

Like, every time I try to explain why I hate Madame Bovary so much I tell this little anecdote about my life. It was probably 2AM, I was still living with my mom, and I was in the living room. Back then, the History Channel---before it became exclusively devoted to Aliens, Hitler, and World War II---had a super interesting show called, I believe it was, Great Books. I caught only a few episodes, there was one on Janes Austen, another on Dostoevsky---and yes, one for Madame Bovary. Which was the one I saw that night.

And on that night, I was just chilling on my ass, and there was this expert on Flaubert explaining how the guy came up with the idea for the book. This woman had a PhD in literature. She studied Flaubert's life and history down to the letters and his intimacy. And I chuckled to myself, completely alone---and listen, you're free to believe whatever the hell yall want, but I swear on my cat this shit is true---and said to myself: "I bet this guy ran away to a cabin and dressed himself as woman to write this book." In fact, I hate Madame Bovary SO MUCH I've making this joke for YEARS, and it's why I call that pile of regurgitated french trash "literary transvesty" because it is literally a man playing dress up with no counter-balance to the absolute derailment of this woman's down-spiral. It's just the story of Emma Bovary going off her rockers, and there's no point where there might a slight indication of societal criticism. She's just a piece of shit. You know, at LEAST Tolstoi gave us Kittie and Levine as a counter-point. At LEAST Tolstoi built-up an immense backdrop with Stepane's adultery to understand the horrid treatment Anna is subjected to. At LEAST we are given a good characterisation of Karenine enough, whereas Charles Bovary is limper than a soggy sock. The only Ken doll I owned as a child had more charisma, and that bitch had no clothes.

And AT THAT POINT in the documentary, that lady expert with a whole PhD says something to this effect: APPARENTLY, Flaubert DID run off into a cabin in the fucking woods or some shit, and he did so with a locket, and what was in that locket? The hairs of his lover. Like, oh my God, I hate you so fucking much.

What I hate THE MOST about Madame Bovary is that despite being a shit book and shit story, and having been written by a guy who purposefully isolated himself from the woman he loved in the ass of the world, with a piece of her hair, as he dead ass attempted to "become a woman", whatever the hell that meant (but then again, so did every romantic writer back in the 19th century), this motherfucker was trialled in a court of law for this book (because adultery, women are frail, scandal, blah blah blah), and his defense was so amazing he actually coined a very important term in writing called Indirect Free Speech. Like, I genuinely hate this motherfucker but this absolute genius final take on his shit book just makes me hate him more. (For reference, this is where I learned this, Hans Robert Jauss explains this in his book Reception Theory)

The second book I think I deserve financial compensation for wasting the like, 3 days I wasted reading those first 100 pages or so, was Juliet Marillier's Daughter of the Forest. Oh my God. Listen, back in the day, like every teenage girl in the early/late 2000s, I was discovering paganism and that kind of crap, so I had a lot of wiccan friends. And there was Charmed. Not the rebooted crap, the OG Charmed, when Rose McGowan was closeted terf and we believed she was cool. Everyone loved Charmed. And everyone who bought into the new-pagan stuff and wiccan stuff, they were all introduced by one of two ways: either it was Charmed, or The Mists of Avalon. Either or. No other way. At least around my circle, that is.

So I had a lot of friends squealing over this one book from Marillier. I was absolutely obsessed with Arthuriana because of Mists of Avalon, and my wiccan/goth friends were all over me telling me "OH you GOTTA read Daughter of the Forest if you love Mists of Avalon". It's comforting to know the one wiccan friend who persisted with that crap went wacko and literally vanished into the horizon because I wanted to smack her in the face with that stupid book.

Basically, at the time, I was balls deep into Irish Mythology. And as I read it, I thought it was EERILY SIMILAR to the Children of Lir. Evil stepmother transforming her step-children into swans? Hm? The one thing that threw me off was that, in the story, the hero had to sew these shirts from some godawful plant that fucked up her hands, and that ISN'T in the original Children of Lir story. Then again, Children of Lir is genuinely not a compelling story. Of all Irish myths, it might be the least compelling.

However, I recently learned that IT IS the same tale, despite what Marillier sold as being "inspired by the Brother Grimm". It turns out the Children of Lir is a tale known throughout Europe, spanning from Spain to Ireland, with some variations, and it exists in Germany, where the sewing of the shirts with that weird plant is a plot point. So I guess that was a determent, considering the story is set in Ireland. Also, you can tell the story was written by a herbalist because, oh my god she goes off about plants all the time.

I basically stopped reading because the heroine is a bit obnoxious and it felt like the plot was going nowhere. And at some point, it was literally a book about plants. Like, Marion Zimmer Bradley's books can be boring (take the Forst House, which is one of my favourites, there's gotta be like 100 pages in there about Eilan's boring life picking flowers, but it builds up to her character, at least). But this one, it was going nowhere, while at the same time, Bretons were landing in Ireland? What? My anger came from when I checked the wikipedia page before I gave up because I wanted to see if there was something redeemable in that shit, like, come on, motivate me. And when I read that there's a fucking rape plot thrown in there that bears no relevance for no other reason than... I don't know, fear of men? I gave up. That was definitely when I stopped reading and decided to set it aside. It's weird cause, from what I remember, I think the author wanted to write it in pagan Ireland, but I don't remember a single mention of a pagan god? It was so convoluted, man.

And why the Children of Lir??? I 100% share the opinion of Sorcha Hegarty from Candlelit Tales regarding the Children of Lir: it is THE LEAST interesting tale in Irish Myth, and also---and these are her words, not mine---the least Irish lmao

Honourable mention: Thérèse Raquin by Zola is another one that made me SO FUCKING PISSED OFF that piece of shit book REQUIRES psychological counseling. Like, financial compensation isn't even enough to go through that crap.

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peebleswrites · 4 years

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I've watched Re; several times now. The first time I watched it, I loved it. The second time, I hated it. The third time, I grew to really understand what the overall message was in conjunction with the recap movies. And it was hard because I had to separate my feelings with the original series from my feelings with the movie because the timelines are different.

That said, when I see complaints about C.C. and how her character revolves around Lelouch in the movie I can't help but wonder if people really understand why. If we look back to the attack on the Geass order when Lelouch enters C's world and is trapped in C.C's memories, he learns of her geass and how it manifested out of a deep desire to be loved. And it was a love she was never able to obtain. Not from her admirers and not from the nun. Having eternal life, she was still never able to find a love that lasted. She even said herself everyone who hated me or showed me kindness has vanished into the flow of time. They're gone and she can hardly remember them. She says she wants to die because that's what will make her life feel complete. But, in reality, she wants to be loved and wants that love to last, to be meaningful. We see hints of this in the cave at Narita, when she asks Lelouch to say her name with tenderness, like he really cherishes it in his heart. And finally when he says he'll take the name L.L. It brings everything full circle for her. She finally found a purpose for going on. Lelouch became her reason for existing, to stop accumulating experiences and to start living. So yeah, it made perfect sense for her character to revolve around him while she tried to find her reason for existing outside of him. He's been right here all along.

This coming from someone who isn't a big fan of the pairing. It's cute, don't get me wrong. But also quite problematic. Her involvement with him stems far beyond Shinjuku and the poison gas incident. She was more than likely present when he was born. She knew his parents, knew his father had geass, that his mother was 'alive', knew who killed his mother, and never breathed a word. Now, I understand why she didn't to an extent, but it just seems like her decision to keep him in the dark concerning vital information that could've protected him from a lot of heart ache is a real hard pill to swallow. Remember he goes through most of his strategizing in R1 to get Cornelia alone so he can find out who killed his mother. But C.C. knew the entire time who it was. And the same one who killed Marianne took Nunnally and her kidnapping was an indirect cause of Lelouch's demise, the failure of the black rebellion, the black knights being arrested, Suzaku's betrayal, and so much more. Yeah, I like C.C. but the secrets she kept did a lot of damage that is surprisingly not talked about enough. I imagine if she had told him, Marianne would've found out somehow then shared this information with Charles. It's a guess though as I don't know the full extent of how Marianna communicates with C.C. or how she is able to see the world from her vantage point. Even so, it's still pretty shitty. Almost like the writers gave her a pass for being secretive and disguised it as her protecting him.

And then there's the controversy of her stalking him since he was 10 years old. Remember at the beginning of the series, there's that short clip of him and Suzaku playing together and we catch a cameo of her watching them? As if that's not weird enough, they end up falling in love? And he's a minor for the better part of the series? But somehow it's fine because she's like 800 years old or something and looks young? And her defective body parts get replaced in C's world? That's...kind of gross.

So yeah, not my preferred pairing. Still cute, though. :)

Now as far as Kallen's role in the movie is concerned, her tears for Lelouch didn't seem genuine. It was comedy at best and cringe at worse. Each time she cried for Lelouch in the series, the tears are hard, they're passionate, they show real pained emotions. Her tears in Re; are dramatic and painful to watch because it's just so...ugh...the only time her tears or emotions at seeing Lelouch seem real is the first time she sees him and when she yells at C.C. for bringing him back to life like this.

And I'm angry that they didn't get a decent reunion. Because the last time they saw each other like genuinely was when the black knights betrayed him. I don't count the return to Ashford because he put up a front.

I had no hope for a ship because it was clear even in the main series that Lelouch and C.C. was endgame. But I at least wanted Kallen to get closure. I mean, why end the series with her basically talking to him, telling him about the world he sacrificed himself for and barely have them interact? Hell, he had more interactions with Ohgi, Cornelia, and Suzaku. It's bullshit. We even saw Shirley get more closure than Kallen and that was from a damn picture of her crying but we all knew she was on the phone with Lelouch.

Yeah, I'm pissed.

#code geass #lelouch of the rebellion #c.c. (code geass)#lelouch vi britannia #lelouch x c.c.#kallen kouzuki #kallen stadtfeld #lelouch of the resurrection

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agent-nova · 5 years

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Cheat Sheet for Roanoke Secret Santa <3

Peep these dummies! For anyone who wants it!

Agent Nova: Eleanor Graves

Physical: Short, about average build. Not terribly strong (though someone is definitely trying to help with that). FC is Tatiana Maslany.

Personality: Curiosity could’ve killed Ellie about a million times up to now. She’s always got questions. She’s shy, and isn’t one for being the center of attention. She’s content to do her work in the background. Oh, and work—she works a lot. She’s always pursuing a new unknown. Trying to come to terms with things she can’t outright explain at Roanoke is a bit stressful for her.

Abilities: Uh...she’s one of the few completely human, no special talent-having agents at Roanoke. So her abilities would be her resilience when passing through the gate, and her background in classifying and interacting with alien life. Astrobiology.

Background: Ellie grew up alright, no childhood trauma. Kept a kind-of distant relationship with her parents as they were all academics and left huge shoes to fill. She didn’t want to be a doctor, or lawyer though, profitability didn’t matter. She always wanted to be an astronaut. About the only remarkable thing that ended up happening was a college mentor directing her to take part in a screening that put her on the track of working in a super secret division that doesn’t exist outside of a small circle of people.

Upon uncovering some very dark facts about her employers and herself, Ellie swore to publicize everything she uncovered about the experiments she had absolutely no memory taking part in. If she didn’t know they were doing it to her, how many others could say the same? Rather than be tried for treason in an effort to silence her, Roanoke snapped her up. She joined them without much of an alternative, but it meant coming into contact with a world she had no idea could possibly exist.

Agent Zenith: Charles Hesketh

Physical: Drool-worthy. No? Alright, well take Ed Holcroft, let him grow a beard, shave all his soft curls away, and have him beef up a bit. There you go. There’s Charlie.

Personality: Charlie has done a bit of a 180 as of late. It used to be that he had to be the focus of everything. Had to always be the best. Ridiculously competitive. He still is, but in more innocent ways...

He’s quiet, a side effect of not having a voice for about a year. He’s toned down his sarcastic venom (though piss him off enough and it comes right back). He’s very protective of the people around him that he likes because he’s got nothing else and they’ve yet to indicate they’d betray him. Trust is hard to come by, but he’s doing better every day.

He just wants people to see him as better than he was. Not in the ways he used to aspire to, just in the ways that really count. He wants to be supportive, he wants to be reasonable. He doesn’t want to always be so quick to anger. He’s in a transitional state, and he’s trying.

Abilities: Strong Bionic arm. Above-average endurance and strength. Good under pressure, leadership material. Former Kingsman recruit.

Background: Charlie grew up with an angry father and a sweet but unfairly submissive mother. He learned to adapt, quick. He had to be able to stay in everyone’s good graces but he still stuck up for himself and his mother. It wasn’t pleasant, his early life, but it could always have been worse.

Constantly having to outperform anyone around made him take criticism and defeat incredibly poorly. He wasn’t a nice person when he wasn’t on top of it all. V-Day changed a lot, though. Poppy changed even more in him. Not so submissive, but just as sweet as his mother... And then Roanoke.

Poppy patched the wounds with metal, and threw him on his feet, but Roanoke rebuilt him from the ground up with healing words and the promise of trust. Things he sorely needed.

Things I’d Like:

Fic Ideas:

Some cute gate wandering? Could really be anywhere. (I feel like I don’t write simple happy things??)

Feel free to take Ellie or Charlie or both wherever you’d like, establish a platonic friendship if that strikes your fancy!

Ellie needs more...combat-oriented training. That could mean a lot of different things but it’s a thought!

Graphics/etc:

Anything you want to give them!!!

I live for AUs

#the roanoke society #secret santa #2018 #agent nova #agent zenith

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everpeasant · 3 years

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Future Inclinations

His words rang through my head. “What is your biggest regret?” The words bounced around my skull, becoming distorted, contorted, and then he retorted. “Hey, you still there man? It’s been like a minute if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine.” He continued to stare at me as I struggle to spit out my words.

“No, I am out of the house anyway. I should probably open up a bit.” I slowly looked up, meeting his eyes, they are full of energy. I don’t know what it is, but Charles always is full of energy. Drugs? I don’t think so, his eyes aren’t bloodshot. They are crimson red, which is somewhat terrifying, but that isn’t the point. His words would continue to morph “What did you do?”, “Why did you do it?”, then finally into “You want to bring them back don’t you?” Why is a coworker asking questions like that, to me of all people? I was the loner, I didn’t cause trouble, I didn’t even talk to him really. Why was he interested in me, why did he invite me out? Is he just a nice guy trying to build me up, is he gay, does he want to rob me too?

“I had some trouble years ago with some bad men,” I say in a soft voice. “They were convinced that I owed them money, but I paid everything off! I shouldn’t have even taken it in the first place. I shouldn’t have taken the money…” I whisper to Charles, but really to myself.

Charles looks dumbfounded, he signals for the bartender to pour us a shot. “Hey man, I didn’t know I was talking to a walking logline for some b-movie”. We clink our shot glasses together and swig down the bitter gin. “What you need the money for anyway? You a gambler, like the ladies, maybe a senator’s son who lost his inheritance?”

As I finished cleaning out the peanut bowl set in front of me, I glance over for a moment. In the clouded mess that was my mind, I sludged through memories of pain and suffering, of mine, and of… I couldn’t get myself to say their names. “No, nothing like that.” I say weakly, “My wife and I needed to pay for medical bills, for the baby.”

“I didn’t know you had a wife and kid.”

I squint at the shell of a peanut that I was fidgeting with. “You wouldn’t. These bad men ran them off the road a couple of years back. To get to me, to send a message, the only message that I got was that my life was over. A worthless life. To have all of this hope for the future snuffed out in an instant is the most excruciating thing in the world.” I reached into my bag and pulled out a small purple plush octopus, its eyes are teared, and charred, some legs are missing, with a stained dark crimson on the mouth. “This was my daughters. She would bring this octopus everywhere with her, its name was Scylla, like the Kraken, I would always read my daughter Greek Mythology. I found this at the crash site. She was still holding it. My wife was only alive long enough to look me in the eyes, she held our daughter.”

Charles signaled for the bartender to leave the bottle for us. “You blame yourself then? I mean you think it's your fault.”

I turned to him, Charles reaches over the bar and takes two-pint glasses, fills one for him and one he pours and offers to me. I hesitate but take it. “I do. I killed the only two people that mattered to me in this world. I don’t even want to look at myself in the morning.” I take a swig.

“When was this?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“When did the accident happen?”

“May 3rd, 2018,” I say a little standoffish.

Charles gets up and finishes his glass. “Well, I gotta go piss, I’ll be right back.”

I nod to him as he walks away. That amount of alcohol should have killed him. Charles is a weird guy, although he can probably handle his drink, as for me I don’t want to pass out in an alleyway. I poured a little over half of my gin back into the bottle. I never really have had someone to talk to about this. Maybe it would be a good idea to talk to a therapist, I clearly am emotionally distraught about this.

Charles makes his way from the bathroom back to his seat. “Now don’t be mad.”

What would I be mad about? “What do you mean?”

He pulls Scylla out of his pocket, it is in pristine condition, just as my daughter had it. “I stole your daughters’ toy.”

I reach into my bag and the toy is gone. “What did you do? How did you fix it? Why did you-?”

“Nothing like that my friend. I did nothing except step through a wormhole I produced in the bathroom.”

“Is that some type of gross way to talk about you pooping?”

“No. I just…” Charles sighs “I am a time traveler. I literally took this from your daughter. The accident still happened; I just took this from your house the morning of.”

I sit still I feel like I have been violated. “No that’s not possible.”

“Felt that way for a little bit. I forgot to ask where you lived, took me several loops to find the right place. I remembered that you could look up who owns a property through a library database, thank god they have that.”

“But this can't be real, you must have bought a new toy. But why would you do that? Are you trying to fuck with me!” People start to stare at us.

Charles comes closer. “Listen, I am not monstrous enough to do something like that. Also, when would I have the ability to go get this exact toy, along with steal the one that you had?”

“You think that time travel makes more logical sense than getting a new toy and sleight of hand?”

“Well, I was never any good at sleight of hand. I am more used to time travel, so It's not too farfetched for me.”

I stand up and grab his coattails and drag him to the bathroom. He struggles. I kicked open the door and threw him to the ground. “Hey what are you doing!” Charles says rubbing his head.

“What the hell are you talking about?! You're a time traveler? You can go back in time and change things huh? Why are you lying to me, what are you getting out of this!?”

“I can prove it to you. Umm um um um… I can bring any famous person here, to prove it. Would that do it?”

“Anyone huh? Bring me, Socrates.”

“Well… that'd be kind of hard since he doesn’t exist.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like you say that a lot. Socrates was made up by Plato, and Plato was made up by Aristotle. Kind of a crazy story that one. Aristotle was trying to hit on this lady, but he was a pretty lowly philosopher. No name for himself, so he made one. He made up this sort of lineage of great philosophers that he descended from. It really is quite interesting.”

“Sure, I believe you. That sounds totally true. Okay, Why don’t you bring me Lincoln?”

“Yeah, sure give me a minute.” He walks into the stall and goes to close the door, I eyeballed him. “What I can’t do it if you are watching.”

The door closed; I rolled my eyes. A large flash blinds me as my hair shoots straight up. Wind circles around the bathroom sending paper towels, and toilet paper careening any which way. Trying to recuperate myself I pat down my hair and call for Charles. I get no response. I peek through the slot in the stall to try to see if he is there, fully expecting to be ridiculed for doing so, yet nothing. No ironic 50s horror movie woman scream, no tirade about personal boundaries, nothing. Charles was gone. The door was still locked. I looked around and saw no window that he could sneak out of. Could this be real? I thought.

That’s when a flash of light emerges, wind resumes its hectic tirade. The chaos dies down leaving me startled again. The stall door opens and out steps Charles in a Sergeant’s uniform followed by a tall man with a tall black top hat. His face is friendly but confused. “Where are we Sergeant Geller? I don’t know how we got in this Lavoratory, but it is dandy!”

I stared dumbfounded at the Former/Current President. Still trying to deny my eyes I ask Charles, “How on earth did you do that? How did you get this actor in here without me noticing?”

“Actor?” replies Lincoln

“Don’t say such things! President Lincoln here hates actors.”

“No, I do not.” Says the president.

“Well maybe you should,” Charles says as he ushers the president back into the stall. “Say goodbye to the President.”

I wave bye to Lincoln, still not fully believing what has happened to me. The light, the wind, it all returns. Charles walks out of the stall rather confidently. “Eh? Eh?” Charles spreads his arms apart. “What’d I tell you? Time fuggin traveler!”

“Was that Lincoln?”

“Honestly, just assume that I’m telling the truth at this point, it is starting to get annoying. Of course, it was Lincoln.”

“I need a second to breathe, this is all too much.”

“Sure thing. Hey while you’re waiting how about you pick if you want to bring your wife, or your daughter back to life.”

“Huh?”

“Who lives who dies, oldest trick and the book, right next to the ol’ stab em and rob em, that one’s, my favorite.”

“I don’t care about any of that! You can bring them back?”

“Only one. I kind of have this project I am working on, and I needed a test group.”

Rage fills my eyes, the next thing I know I am flying through the air, tackling Charles to the ground. “What do you mean only one!? You sick bastard, are you going to make me choose?! This is just some fucking experiment to you!”

“Well yes-” My fist decks Charles in the face. He starts to bleed from his nose a little bit. He tries to move his jaw. “-ow. Listen man my hands are tied, and not because you’re pinning them. The people I work for are having me do this.”

“We work for the same people!”

“You know you can have 2 jobs, right? Clearly not, otherwise, you wouldn’t have needed the mon-”, my punch lands on the other cheek. “-Fine that one was called for. I can’t bring back more than 1 person at a time. Trust me it gets messy if you do more than 1. Just give it some thought. Who do you want back the most?”

I let go of Charles. He looked relieved. Tears began to pour from my eyes. I ran to the stall to have privacy. “Wait not that one!” I slam the stall door and start to bawl. “It was just a joke… relax.”

What the hell is going on? Time travel? That is something that only happens in hacky movies that don’t know how to get out of a situation. But in real life? Oh my god! Do I have to choose? The love of my life? Or my precious daughter? I love Clarisse so much, she was the best woman a man could have asked for. She stood up for herself through any bullshit, even my own. She would make me a better person every day. Her laugh brought light to every room. I could use some light in my life right now. But Iris… my sweet daughter, I needed to protect her, and I failed… She would always wake me up early on the weekends and ask me to play with her, read her the Iliad, or make her favorite Chocolate Blueberry Pancakes. Those moments may have been the happiest of my life, raising my daughter to be the person she would turn into. Would… I sighed. I miss them both so much. I want them both back, but I can’t have that. Dark thoughts entered my mind, it was as if I was a whale, speared, hooks in deep, pulling at the barbs only making it more painful. Clarisse… I want you back. But I know you would never forgive me if I saved you instead of our sweet Iris. She has such a bright future. I hope you will forgive me.

I sit on the toilet, my eyes red, rubbed to the point of blistering. I am unable to cry more. I must accept fate, or reverse fate in this case. Struggling to my feet I push my hands to the side of the stall for support. My hand is placed next to a drawing of Kilroy, along with the quote “‘Sometimes, you have to step outside of the person you've been and remember the person you were meant to be. The person you want to be. The person you are.’ ― H.G. Wells”. I open the door and slowly make my way to Charles. Standing above, I look him in the eyes and say, “Save my daughter, oh please dear god save Iris!” He looks at me, no quirky remark, he only nods. Blood still drips from his nose, covering his shirt. It looks like he used the wrist of his Sergeant’s uniform to clean blood from his face. He enters the stall and the bright flash and wind return. I stand nervously, not knowing how to feel. Was I mad? Was I glad? Panic set its sights upon me as the flash of light returned.

#My writing #My Story #creative writing #writing #short story #original story #time travel #fiction #abe lincoln

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glenngaylord · 5 years

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GAY PRIDE – My Review of THE LION KING (3 ½ Stars)

[Excerpted from https://thequeerreview.com/ ]

Ready for a hot take? I don’t always love animated films. Give me the crappy cut-out look of South Park or the gloriously fluid old school Looney Tunes shorts, but otherwise, I sometimes feel like my eyes are bleeding. I don’t mean to take anything away from the incredibly talented artisans who have brought so much joy and wonder to the world. It’s an eyeball thing. Speaking of which, I also don’t like the eyeballs on Disney characters. They’re so big and round and sweet. I think I know one person in the world with eyes like that and everyone calls him Aladdin, but it’s not really a compliment. Everyone else I know squints and looks dead inside. Maybe I need new friends, or maybe I’m just cranky.

All of this is to say that despite the cries that Hollywood operates at a bankrupt creative standstill, that cash grabs represent the new normal filled with remakes and reboots, and that cynical decisions only occur on days that end in “Y”, I don’t necessarily hate that Disney has decided to churn out “live action” versions of their classic animated films. As much as I loved the original 1994 The Lion King, a CGI, photorealistic update sounded like something I could watch without experiencing a cavalcade of onion tears. I may be alone with this strange affliction of mine, but audiences have sure turned up to see something they’ve pretty much seen before.

I enjoyed director Jon Favreau’s update on The Jungle Book, but my expectations were truly low for this one. Using Hamlet as its template, the original film beautifully told the tale of Simba, a young lion who when banished from his pride by his evil Uncle Scar, goes on a journey to discover the importance of standing firm for those you love and realizing your destiny. The Elton John/Tim Rice songs, while sappy as hell at times, could not be more memorable, and who can resist that commanding drum beat and cut to the title card at the very end of “The Circle Of Life”? When that baboon holds Simba up to his adoring animal kingdom, it’s one of the greatest cinematic moments of all time.

Yet there I sat, expecting the worst. Had I hated the film I was going to title my review, ”The Circle Of Lifelessness”. I expected a pointless remake with expressionless creatures moving their lips to dialogue, but what I experienced instead, while problematic in terms of pacing issues and one particularly not great vocal performance, truly entertained and delighted me. The Lion King 2.0: No More Tears (Enough Is Enough) not only provided me with a more palatable way to view the same story, but it updated it just enough to make it a little more relevant and a whole lot gayer.

Ok, if you’re one of those millions of moms who don’t have a gay child, or don’t know anyone with a gay child, or you’re just a closed-minded, out of touch gorgon, you need to calm down. The new film isn’t outwardly gay, but much like placing Paul Lynde dead center on Hollywood Squares or Charles Nelson Reilly in the top right tier on Match Game, The Lion King has traded in a perfectly wonderful and gay Nathan Lane as Timon the Meerkat for the truly hilarious, scene-stealing and equally gay Billy Eichner. It’s the equivalent of going from Will & Grace’s Jack to Bianca Del Rio of Rupaul’s Drag Race fame. The quips feel way more 2019 -more biting, nihilistic, dystopian, the world is ending, in a Years And Years is so dead-on kind of way! And yes, even though Timon and his BFF warthog friend Pumbaa (a perfect Seth Rogen) aren’t technically a ‘shipworthy couple we would call Timbaa, make no mistake, Timon is a gay homosexual and Eichner gives one of the best vocal performances I’ve heard in ages. Evidently, he improvised many of his lines, including my favorite as he arrives at a Pride Rock which has been left barren by Scar and his pack of hyenas, “Talk about a fixer-upper. I think you went heavy on the carcass.” I think Queer Eye’s Bobby Berk should start taking notes! All of this is to say that Eichner elevates what could have been the draggy second act of the film and sends it into the comedy stratosphere.

The pacing, at times, does suffer. Without the benefit of jaunty animation, watching animals traversing the savanna gets a little cumbersome, and the facial expressions of the characters don’t carry emotions in the same way. I actually preferred the new version. I had no problems deciphering their feelings, and, in fact, I found their edgier looks a better match for our current mood. It’s as if the animals, no longer living in a pre-9/11, pre-Trump world, know we humans have messed everything up and they’re deadly serious and seriously pissed off. Welcome to The Lion King 2.0: The Larry David Version!

As for the performances, Eichner and Rogen aside, we also get a strong turn from John Oliver as Zazu, the flittering hornbill. Chiwetel Ejiofor, while no Jeremy Irons, makes Scar a terrifying Iago, although his famous, “You have no idea” moment doesn’t work as well here since the original was a callback to Irons’ unforgettable line in his Oscar winning Reversal Of Fortune. James Earl Jones returns as Mufasa, because nobody can ever replace him. Do you hear me, Morgan Freeman? Nobody! Not even you! And you’re the Voice of God! Beyonce acquits herself quite well as Nala, as does Shahadi Wright Joseph as the younger version. Young Simba couldn’t be more adorable and heart-melting. Try not to go “Awww” when he attempts his first roar. JD MCrary exudes utter cuteness here, especially during his number, “I Just Can’t Wait To Be King”, but then, unfortunately the movie flatlines when Donald Glover takes over as his grown-up counterpart. He sounds half asleep and fairly bland in the big duet, “Can You Feel The Love Tonight” or whenever reciting lines. I’m suspecting it’s an actor’s choice to internalize the guilt and shame Simba experienced as a toddler and turn into a self-serious, lumbering bore, but it’s not enough to sink a film with such fantastic moments as “Hakuna Matata” or the on-the-beat stomping we revel in during “The Lion Sleeps Tonight”.

Technically, the photorealism may resemble a National Geographic special, but with better lip-syncing, yet I did find myself missing the darker qualities of the glowing-eyed hyenas and the elephant graveyard from the original. The wildebeest stampede looks real, which somehow isn’t half as scary as a hand-drawn interpretation. We get more daylight in the new film, making me yearn for the inky blacks of animation. In either version, however, we enter quasi-religious Aslan territory when Simba speaks to his dead father in the clouds. That kind of corniness doesn’t quite land the way it did in the early 90s.

Despite its flaws, it’s a stirring, impressive film. It may not have the most urgent reason for existing in that it pretty much trades in one kind of beauty for another, but Billy Eichner is worth the price of admission alone. Timon may ping on the same old gay best friend character tropes we’ve known for so long, but it’s still a fresh take. He may yell a lot, but he infuses it with kindness and some genuine affection for his big, dopey friend Pumbaa. We could all use a little more Billy in our lives right now.

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drippeddaily · 6 years

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Album of the Year #25: Open Mike Eagle - Brick Body Kids Still Daydream

Merry Christmas, y'all!

Artist: Open Mike Eagle

Album: Brick Body Kids Still Daydream

Listen:

Youtube

Spotify

Apple Music

Album Background:

Open Mike Eagle, born in the South Side of Chicgao, 37 years old, and member of Project Blowed has become a staple in the underground hip hop scene and started making waves with his poignant and concise projects starting in 2010 with his first full length release Unapologetic Art Rap.

You may have heard of Mike outside of his music by his features in Vice videos such as Why rappers love Grey Poupon or Rapping, deconstructed: The best rhymers of all time. If not those, maybe you’ve seen him on Eric Andre’s show in Rapper Warrior Ninja. And, again, if not that then maybe you know him as a friend of famous comedian and Bill Cosby exposer Hannibal Buress.

Before becoming a rapper, Michael W. Eagle II went to Whitney M. Young High School which is a selective enrollment public school in the Near West Side of Chicago. After high school, Mike went to Southern Illinois University Carbondale as a psychology major where he met his now good friend Hannibal Buress. He graduated and moved on to do one year of grad school before moving to Los Angeles where he worked a few different jobs such as Americorps, a non-profit halfway home, and as a third and fourth grade special education teacher. At this time, he only rapped as a hobby until he found Project Blowed, where he became affiliated with now long time collaborators Busdriver, Dumbfoundead, and Pyschosiz.

Open Mike Eagle’s 5th full length LP Brick Body Kids Still Daydream was released on September 15, 2017 under one of my favorite labels Mello Music Group. Mike grew up in the Robert Taylor Homes in Chicago which was a series of project housings that is now demolished. They were erected in the early 1960s, and demolished over the course of nine years from 1998 to 2007. Here is a picture of the last standing building via Wikipedia. These buildings were designed to hold up to 11,000 residents, and in actuality housed up to 27,000 people at its peak. The complex was riddled with gang violence and crime throughout its entire existence.

The source of inspiration for this album is made clear by the title, the album cover, and Mike’s upbringing which leads to this album being a tell all of Mike’s feelings about the Robert Taylor Homes, and subsequently he touches on the problems in America in a way that is very personal to him.

Review:

Mike’s style of rap is soft and inviting, like he is telling a story out of a book by your bedside. With the opening track Legendary Iron Hood, he invites you into his dream world at the Robert Taylor Homes. He sets up with references to a superhero in the X-Men with lines like “I keep my head down, pushing like I’m walking to school, yeah / I hold em tight like Infinity Gems” and “Got a brother named Charles that be on that bullshit / I protect my neck with some magical jewels.” While Mike’s rapping is smooth and harmless, it’s exciting like he really wants you to listen to his story. His childish daydreams tells you just enough to make you interested to hear more about his life growing up, and see how he solves the problems he establishes in this first track.

Mike keeps you on your toes as one emotion that’s being conveyed never lasts very long. This album in the 40 minutes run time takes you from happy and comfortable, to a dark and depressed place, and this can quickly change from track to track. One track that shows this dichotomy is Happy Wasteland Day, where Mike gives us his take on the political landscape of 2017 while never mentioning the name of the largest contributor to the current state of affairs. The beat most prominently features a looped string instrument, backed by simple drums and bass supporting it. Mike’s lyricism in this track varies from on the nose to more abstract questions in simple lines. “When the king is a garbage person / I might wanna lay down and die” he repeats quite often as he wonders what he’s supposed to do. He poses a problem and offers a solution to himself within two lines, “Zombie sheriffs is tryna lynch us / Guess I’ll call up my congressman.” Mike makes a grim joke saying that the police force are like zombies out for their next meal, and what can he do about it but call his congressman? Mike knows it’s ultimately a futile act, and this sort of change is much bigger than one person.

The climax of the album can not go without mention, and that is Brick Body Complex. The rebellious and hyped up track explains the title of the album. Mike’s ultimate comparison is that a black child in the hood is literally a building. That kid, because of a system designed to keep him down, has no upward mobility or anyway to move away from his current situation much like the building that he lives in. However, Mike tries to fight back this notion by saying that he is giant, he’s a superhero, and and that he’ll never fit their descriptions. They, in this case, being those who generalize an entire group of people because of their skin color and living situation. It’s a fantastic concept that Mike fully realizes on this song with his passionate, fast, and angry rapping about this state of affairs. This song truly showcases Mike’s talent as a musician, storyteller, artist, and this track is something that sets him apart from other rappers. It is a fleshed out idea, told in a personal way that makes comments on the truths of America, and delivered in a 4 minute showcase of lyrical wit and storytelling.

The final track that deserves its own paragraph also happens to be the final track of the album. My Auntie’s Building is perhaps the dreariest song on the entire album, and despite the fighting back like Mike showed in Brick Body Complex, this is the beaten down side of him. “I’ll fight you all, I’m willing / Just show me who’s that villain / I don’t see no one, I don’t see no one / I can’t find nobody,” Mike says as he ultimately realizes this battle is one that can’t be one. There is no one single person to fight as this is a systematic problem. “They say America fights fair / But they won’t demolish your timeshare” are two simple bars that summarize the issue of gentrification. The beat is slow, with Mike rapping fast and he is pissed off. The album ends with him repeating “That’s the sound of them tearing my body down to the ground.” Mike one last time before his “death” reiterates that there is no hope or choice for him or kids like him, and that the system is too strong for one hero to beat alone.

While the above tracks are worthy of their own paragraphs the others are just as good and are certainly not wasted space. Every track on this album is just as important as the ones surrounding it, and something that should be mentioned and something that Mike is known for is his humor. Mike still manages to keep his signature wit and humor despite the foreboding message. Like on No Selling (Uncle Butch Pretends It Don’t Hurt) he mentions how he had an asthma attack in the last bar, or on TLDR (Smithing) how he’s been woke for so long he needs a nap. He even seems to call this out on (How Could Anybody) Feel At Home where he says he’s told some goofy shit that sounds like a poem, and reading through Mike’s bars there’s a lot of truth to that statement. Mike often feels like he’s reading to you, and his personality is full of wit and funny bars, and while this album is more serious in tone Mike does not give up what he’s known for to deliver his message.

The beats on this album are also worthy of praise as Mike decided to take in ten producers over the course of twelve tracks. Exile (Legendary Iron Hood & Happy Wasteland Day) and Illingsworth (Daydreaming In The Projects & TLDR (Smithing)) both produced two tracks. Mike’s lengthy list of producers each bring their own flavor to each track, and shows how Mike is unafraid of going up against some experimental or different beats. Legendary Iron Hood features a beautiful and serene piano and guitar which is completely different from No Selling which makes uses of a simple low synth and vocal samples. And both of these tracks are completely different from something like 95 Radios which is the poppiest track on the album, and has a more prominent yet simple drum beat and bells. Every track is distinct and stands on its own, but is all brought together by Mike’s confidence over them. Mike knows exactly what to bring to each track to complement the beat and most importantly deliver his message and see his vision.

Something that I picked up on throughout this record is that Mike mentions some form of motion whether it is him being still or being in perpetual motion, and a reference to this can be found on almost every track on the album. In the beginning of the album he talks about moving a lot like on Legendary Iron Hood he talks about how he can't be stopped and nothing will stop him, or on (How Could Anybody) Feel At Home he “spun around in circles on the globe.” But as the album progresses he is tired and in pain. The entirety of No Selling is about working too hard, and is a direct reference to “selling” in wrestling meaning that a wrestler is selling to the audience how hurt he is. In this case, Mike is “no selling” or trying to pretend like he’s not hurt, but truly all of this work is tiring him out. In the later points of the album there is emphasis on standing still or being in the same place, and this goes hand in hand with Mike making the comparison of a black kid to a building. Buildings are constant. They never move, even when it rains, or in the wind, or in the snow, and they will always be right where they were intended to be. Black kids living in the hood think they will move, get out of the hood, and live better lives, but throughout this album Mike is telling us that this is just a daydream, that it will never happen and that is by design. The final track My Auntie’s Building continues to hammer this point home. “And they hit that shit with a wrecking ball so hard / Thought the whole earth broke / All them people dispersed though / Federal to commercial.” The people of the Robert Taylor Homes were forced out, nowhere to go, and ultimately ended up lining the pockets of the wealthy by having to live in for profit housing.

This record is a fantastic, and beautiful commentary on Mike’s upbringing and the climate of 2017. This record is as much of a commentary on Trump as it is on Mike’s home in Chicago, and has become one of my favorite records of the year and by far my favorite record that feels like it is a response to the election of Donald Trump. I truly loved this album, and as I continued to relisten to write this review I only fell more in love with it. Open Mike Eagle did an incredible job with this record, and I’m excited to see where he goes next, but I’d also be content if he takes his time with the next one because I’ll be playing this for a long time.

Favorite Lyrics:

My big dumb brain’s an electrical ocean

Started walking now my legs in perpetual motion

Don’t call me nigga or rapper

My name is motherfucking Michael Eagle, I’m sovereign

I come from a line of ghetto superheroes

Between shrooms and touring I'm sure to take a bunch of trips

And fuck that one guy who’s screen name was "thunderlips"

Pelt him with a bag full of mesquite flavored Kruncher chips

4. (Bars from feature guest, Sammus)

On my Apple updating my E-Shops

Eat a apple a day, take a brief pause

Take a nap, lie awake in-between sobs

Then I rap and I pray and the grief stops

The old me would drink a 40

And eat bologna, shinobi

On NBA Live, I play with Kobe

Discussion Questions:

I’ve seen a lot of debate on whether or not this is better than Dark Comedy? Thoughts?

As far as “reactions to Trump” go, how do you feel about this album compared to others who did the same?

Do you find any validity in my claims about Mike’s use of motion in this album?

Do you think Open Mike Eagle’s use of several different producers was a benefit, or would you have preferred he stuck with only a few. Would you like to see other rappers take this sort of approach?

Merry Christmas, y'all!Artist: Open Mike EagleAlbum: Brick Body Kids Still DaydreamListen:YoutubeSpotifyApple MusicAlbum Background:Open Mike Eagle, born in the South Side of Chicgao, 37 years old, and member of Project Blowed has become a staple in the underground hip hop scene and started making waves with his poignant and concise projects starting in 2010 with his first full length release Unapologetic Art Rap.You may have heard of Mike outside of his music by his features in Vice videos such as Why rappers love Grey Poupon or Rapping, deconstructed: The best rhymers of all time. If not those, maybe you’ve seen him on Eric Andre’s show in Rapper Warrior Ninja. And, again, if not that then maybe you know him as a friend of famous comedian and Bill Cosby exposer Hannibal Buress.Before becoming a rapper, Michael W. Eagle II went to Whitney M. Young High School which is a selective enrollment public school in the Near West Side of Chicago. After high school, Mike went to Southern Illinois University Carbondale as a psychology major where he met his now good friend Hannibal Buress. He graduated and moved on to do one year of grad school before moving to Los Angeles where he worked a few different jobs such as Americorps, a non-profit halfway home, and as a third and fourth grade special education teacher. At this time, he only rapped as a hobby until he found Project Blowed, where he became affiliated with now long time collaborators Busdriver, Dumbfoundead, and Pyschosiz.Open Mike Eagle’s 5th full length LP Brick Body Kids Still Daydream was released on September 15, 2017 under one of my favorite labels Mello Music Group. Mike grew up in the Robert Taylor Homes in Chicago which was a series of project housings that is now demolished. They were erected in the early 1960s, and demolished over the course of nine years from 1998 to 2007. Here is a picture of the last standing building via Wikipedia. These buildings were designed to hold up to 11,000 residents, and in actuality housed up to 27,000 people at its peak. The complex was riddled with gang violence and crime throughout its entire existence.The source of inspiration for this album is made clear by the title, the album cover, and Mike’s upbringing which leads to this album being a tell all of Mike’s feelings about the Robert Taylor Homes, and subsequently he touches on the problems in America in a way that is very personal to him.Review:Mike’s style of rap is soft and inviting, like he is telling a story out of a book by your bedside. With the opening track Legendary Iron Hood, he invites you into his dream world at the Robert Taylor Homes. He sets up with references to a superhero in the X-Men with lines like “I keep my head down, pushing like I’m walking to school, yeah / I hold em tight like Infinity Gems” and “Got a brother named Charles that be on that bullshit / I protect my neck with some magical jewels.” While Mike’s rapping is smooth and harmless, it’s exciting like he really wants you to listen to his story. His childish daydreams tells you just enough to make you interested to hear more about his life growing up, and see how he solves the problems he establishes in this first track.Mike keeps you on your toes as one emotion that’s being conveyed never lasts very long. This album in the 40 minutes run time takes you from happy and comfortable, to a dark and depressed place, and this can quickly change from track to track. One track that shows this dichotomy is Happy Wasteland Day, where Mike gives us his take on the political landscape of 2017 while never mentioning the name of the largest contributor to the current state of affairs. The beat most prominently features a looped string instrument, backed by simple drums and bass supporting it. Mike’s lyricism in this track varies from on the nose to more abstract questions in simple lines. “When the king is a garbage person / I might wanna lay down and die” he repeats quite often as he wonders what he’s supposed to do. He poses a problem and offers a solution to himself within two lines, “Zombie sheriffs is tryna lynch us / Guess I’ll call up my congressman.” Mike makes a grim joke saying that the police force are like zombies out for their next meal, and what can he do about it but call his congressman? Mike knows it’s ultimately a futile act, and this sort of change is much bigger than one person.The climax of the album can not go without mention, and that is Brick Body Complex. The rebellious and hyped up track explains the title of the album. Mike’s ultimate comparison is that a black child in the hood is literally a building. That kid, because of a system designed to keep him down, has no upward mobility or anyway to move away from his current situation much like the building that he lives in. However, Mike tries to fight back this notion by saying that he is giant, he’s a superhero, and and that he’ll never fit their descriptions. They, in this case, being those who generalize an entire group of people because of their skin color and living situation. It’s a fantastic concept that Mike fully realizes on this song with his passionate, fast, and angry rapping about this state of affairs. This song truly showcases Mike’s talent as a musician, storyteller, artist, and this track is something that sets him apart from other rappers. It is a fleshed out idea, told in a personal way that makes comments on the truths of America, and delivered in a 4 minute showcase of lyrical wit and storytelling.The final track that deserves its own paragraph also happens to be the final track of the album. My Auntie’s Building is perhaps the dreariest song on the entire album, and despite the fighting back like Mike showed in Brick Body Complex, this is the beaten down side of him. “I’ll fight you all, I’m willing / Just show me who’s that villain / I don’t see no one, I don’t see no one / I can’t find nobody,” Mike says as he ultimately realizes this battle is one that can’t be one. There is no one single person to fight as this is a systematic problem. “They say America fights fair / But they won’t demolish your timeshare” are two simple bars that summarize the issue of gentrification. The beat is slow, with Mike rapping fast and he is pissed off. The album ends with him repeating “That’s the sound of them tearing my body down to the ground.” Mike one last time before his “death” reiterates that there is no hope or choice for him or kids like him, and that the system is too strong for one hero to beat alone.While the above tracks are worthy of their own paragraphs the others are just as good and are certainly not wasted space. Every track on this album is just as important as the ones surrounding it, and something that should be mentioned and something that Mike is known for is his humor. Mike still manages to keep his signature wit and humor despite the foreboding message. Like on No Selling (Uncle Butch Pretends It Don’t Hurt) he mentions how he had an asthma attack in the last bar, or on TLDR (Smithing) how he’s been woke for so long he needs a nap. He even seems to call this out on (How Could Anybody) Feel At Home where he says he’s told some goofy shit that sounds like a poem, and reading through Mike’s bars there’s a lot of truth to that statement. Mike often feels like he’s reading to you, and his personality is full of wit and funny bars, and while this album is more serious in tone Mike does not give up what he’s known for to deliver his message.The beats on this album are also worthy of praise as Mike decided to take in ten producers over the course of twelve tracks. Exile (Legendary Iron Hood & Happy Wasteland Day) and Illingsworth (Daydreaming In The Projects & TLDR (Smithing)) both produced two tracks. Mike’s lengthy list of producers each bring their own flavor to each track, and shows how Mike is unafraid of going up against some experimental or different beats. Legendary Iron Hood features a beautiful and serene piano and guitar which is completely different from No Selling which makes uses of a simple low synth and vocal samples. And both of these tracks are completely different from something like 95 Radios which is the poppiest track on the album, and has a more prominent yet simple drum beat and bells. Every track is distinct and stands on its own, but is all brought together by Mike’s confidence over them. Mike knows exactly what to bring to each track to complement the beat and most importantly deliver his message and see his vision.Something that I picked up on throughout this record is that Mike mentions some form of motion whether it is him being still or being in perpetual motion, and a reference to this can be found on almost every track on the album. In the beginning of the album he talks about moving a lot like on Legendary Iron Hood he talks about how he can't be stopped and nothing will stop him, or on (How Could Anybody) Feel At Home he “spun around in circles on the globe.” But as the album progresses he is tired and in pain. The entirety of No Selling is about working too hard, and is a direct reference to “selling” in wrestling meaning that a wrestler is selling to the audience how hurt he is. In this case, Mike is “no selling” or trying to pretend like he’s not hurt, but truly all of this work is tiring him out. In the later points of the album there is emphasis on standing still or being in the same place, and this goes hand in hand with Mike making the comparison of a black kid to a building. Buildings are constant. They never move, even when it rains, or in the wind, or in the snow, and they will always be right where they were intended to be. Black kids living in the hood think they will move, get out of the hood, and live better lives, but throughout this album Mike is telling us that this is just a daydream, that it will never happen and that is by design. The final track My Auntie’s Building continues to hammer this point home. “And they hit that shit with a wrecking ball so hard / Thought the whole earth broke / All them people dispersed though / Federal to commercial.” The people of the Robert Taylor Homes were forced out, nowhere to go, and ultimately ended up lining the pockets of the wealthy by having to live in for profit housing.This record is a fantastic, and beautiful commentary on Mike’s upbringing and the climate of 2017. This record is as much of a commentary on Trump as it is on Mike’s home in Chicago, and has become one of my favorite records of the year and by far my favorite record that feels like it is a response to the election of Donald Trump. I truly loved this album, and as I continued to relisten to write this review I only fell more in love with it. Open Mike Eagle did an incredible job with this record, and I’m excited to see where he goes next, but I’d also be content if he takes his time with the next one because I’ll be playing this for a long time.Favorite Lyrics:1.My big dumb brain’s an electrical oceanStarted walking now my legs in perpetual motion2.Don’t call me nigga or rapperMy name is motherfucking Michael Eagle, I’m sovereignI come from a line of ghetto superheroes3.Between shrooms and touring I'm sure to take a bunch of tripsAnd fuck that one guy who’s screen name was "thunderlips"Pelt him with a bag full of mesquite flavored Kruncher chips4. (Bars from feature guest, Sammus)On my Apple updating my E-ShopsEat a apple a day, take a brief pauseTake a nap, lie awake in-between sobsThen I rap and I pray and the grief stops5.The old me would drink a 40And eat bologna, shinobiOn NBA Live, I play with KobeDiscussion Questions:I’ve seen a lot of debate on whether or not this is better than Dark Comedy? Thoughts?As far as “reactions to Trump” go, how do you feel about this album compared to others who did the same?Do you find any validity in my claims about Mike’s use of motion in this album?Do you think Open Mike Eagle’s use of several different producers was a benefit, or would you have preferred he stuck with only a few. Would you like to see other rappers take this sort of approach?

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kjwongsbrain · 7 years

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The era of comic book movies is now. We're getting like six of them every year thanks to the combined efforts of Marvel Studios, Warner Brothers and DC playing catchup, and also 20th Century Fox's obligations to keep making ones they want to keep the license over. It's not as if comic books never got made into movies before - in fact you can trace back the movies all the way back to the 50s - but they're thriving harder than ever now and are among some of the most profitable films ever to be made.

It used to be an idea that major actors would often refuse to star as recurring superheros in fear of being typecast into that one role, or have their entire career be recognized for donning on a funny outfit and doing silly moves on camera instead of what some would consider 'true acting'. Some actors often tried breaking out of the mold of Superhero by doing things completely different from that previous role, either by taking on a serious dramatic role, or going to stage shows in order to establish their abilities as an actor instead of a character.

But I'm starting to wonder if that's the case anymore. Seeing the excitement of people like Chadwick Boseman and Tom Holland on being inducted into the ever growing cast of actors that make up the MCU, and then looking at the sheer popularity and success of the movies as well as the genuine appreciation the fans show leads me to believe that maybe the ultimate role for an actor these days is in fact a superhero. The mark of a great career should be one that has a superhero in it. At least once. Only now that Marvel is issuing 6 film contracts, it won't just be once most of the time.

Back before actors signed multi-movie deals with studios like Marvel, I used to worry when an A-list actor was cast as a recurring character in a Marvel movie because it would mean it would be near impossible to get them to come back for another one. Take for instance the current Limbo that Red Skull is in because Hugo Weaving isn't doing it again. Chris Evans has long expressed a desire to finish playing Captain America and move on to new things. Hemsworth on the other hand seems to be enjoying the role just fine.

All that leads us comfortable to Hugh Jackman who now holds the record for playing the same superhero character the most times at 8 (counting the little cameo in First Class). Not only is Jackman one of the most respected castings in superhero history, it's also the role that's really cemented his career in history forever. And if you watch some early interviews with Jackman, he took the gig not knowing how big the role was really going to be.

And so it is with a huge thank you - the kind audiences do for retiring pro wrestlers - that we now come to talk about Logan.

But before we get into it, I must go back to the thought I began with. The era of comic book movies that we are in now can really be traced back all the way to two films that helped really establish what the genre was capable of and what it was going to look like for years to come.

Everyone of course remembers how big and pivotal the Tim Burton Batman film was but there's another one that was equally responsible for studios finally willing to shift a proper amount of resources into making these films - Blade.

Yes, Blade was one of the first few comic book movies that was a proper commercial success. And also the thing Wesley Snipes was famous for before the tax dodging. Blade was a demonstration that comic book movies could be taken seriously and not be too campy and targeted at children, but also staying true to the source material. A lot of people forget just how pivotal Blade is in regards to the shape and feel of comic book movies today.

That being said, in this almost 30 year period now since Batman and Blade, comic book movies have done a lot of evolving. With Blade and Batman being the first commercial successes, studios started thinking about the ingredients in those films that led to their success. This is the primary factor that influenced the design of the first really big superhero film, the first X-men. I love the first X-men. I have a very special place in my heart for it because of how many things it did right, and how much it helped usher in the world of the MCU we have today. But I've always felt that the early X-men movies missed a beat by taking what Blade and Batman did and applying it too directly into what was originally a bright and colorful world.

This would later be fixed when Marvel took its chances by delivering Iron Man and audaciously painting him bright gold and red instead of turning him black like the new Robocop. Marvel took steps into bringing the look of the original comics back into their world and the move was celebrated by fans. Fans, like me, were incredibly excited by the vibrant image the new era of the MCU presented, especially in comparison with the much darker, bleaker, and paler DC universe.

This went on to make Disney and Marvel billions of dollars in ticket sales, and also in the ridiculous merchandising arm of the franchise. But with that merchandising arm being such a big factor, there also was the long debate about content rating in the movies. While children were buying the toys in heaps and droves, it was really the adult comic fans that were propelling the series forward. Their loyalty to the franchise was something that was consistently bankable and Marvel knew this.

The problem now was that Marvel had to toe the line between creating films that were family friendly, but never straying too far into the kid friendly content of the early years (pre 1989) that the adult fans would lose interest. And they have done so brilliantly, but that involved navigating around and away from some of the grittier material that comics have long included in their storylines.

Then came Deadpool. Which isn't the first R-rated comic book movie by any chance. Heck, the genre defining Blade was R-rated. But there wasn't an audience as big as the one today to celebrate the fact that R-rated comic book movies could be great. And so the evolution of comic book movies has now come full circle. With dozens of movies already hitting the merchandisable market, fans have been clamouring for movies to adopt some of the more adult themes and presentations that they've enjoyed for years in the comics.

And so Deadpool delivered. It was the right time and piece of material for it to be a smash hit success. With studio executives still nervous, Deadpool's success meant that directors and actors who dreamed of making some of the more adult-themed material had the guts to push for it. And so we have Logan. And Logan's a big big hit looking at the opening weekend. And I think that rather than helping make the film better, the R-rating really made things worse for Logan.

Hear me out.

The first fifteen minutes or so were probably in the film solely to piss off some producers who went into the meeting thinking that they could still rein in Jackman and Mangold who were hell bent on making an R-rated film. What with the outrageous amount of violence in the opening scene, and then the outrageous amount of swearing between two characters that have never done so in the history of their appearances on screen. I don't find it difficult to watch Logan run his mouth, but when Charles and Logan are having a spat at each other, swearing like sailors, that ruined the moment for me.

It's not that I don't believe either of them were capable of it either, but it's simply that without any progression from one incarnation to another, it almost felt shoehorned in there solely to validate the R-rating. And then after those ridiculously out of character fifteen minutes have gone by, the film actually starts out properly.

That bummed me out harder than anything. And as the movie went on, the only question I had to keep asking myself was whether the R-rating was necessary. And I think it really wasn't. Wolverine has taken down his enemies 6 times prior to this film and nobody complained. Nobody complained that you couldn't see his claws rip people's heads off and spear through different body parts. Wolverine has existed without the necessity for on-screen violence in this capacity without complaint. And so, by that logic, none of the extra violence really added anything to the film. The strengths of the movie rested in the three main characters of Charles, Logan and Laura. And that story is actually a beautiful story. There were heavy emotions played out as Charles dies full of regret, and as Logan comes to terms with his humanity and death. And all of those could've been done without a single ounce of gut splatter on screen.

Now why is this such a big deal? Why am I complaining about how unnecessary the R-rating actually is? Isn't it a great way to show just how far comic book movies have come after all these years and isn't great that we can have these films like Logan and Deadpool made?

Yes. Deadpool was perfect. Deadpool is a ridiculous character that genuinely needed to be expressed in a ridiculous way in order for it to work.

Logan? Nope. Just think about it for a second. If the scenes that made Logan an R-rated movie were simply ingratiating violence and language, what did it do to make the movie better? The best parts of the movie were the ones that had nothing to do with any of that. Sure the scene of Logan swearing and bashing the shit out of his car helped convey some raw emotion concerning the death of Charles, but hundreds of movies have done the same without uttering a single word even.

And this is a problem because people are celebrating Logan for the wrong reasons. Pretty soon we'll want an R-rated Batman. And then an R-rated Avengers simply because we think that the R-rating is a gateway into better stories and still maintaining financial credibility.

And then what will we give our children?

I made this similar argument when people were celebrating Adi Shankar's ridiculous Power Rangers short. The adult thinking that everything is immediately improved by making it darker, grittier, more violent, and more sexual. It's the natural growing up of the things we've enjoyed as children. And the same people would lament that kids these days don't have the same kind of complex characters that we did.

Well, how the heck do you share Wolverine with your children if his greatest achievement is buried in Logan? Imagine your kid watching the new X-men cartoons and coming to love Wolverine as a character the same way you did, and then finding out that a brand new Wolverine movie came out and hearing how great it was, only to be told that he or she can't see it.

Look, I get that there's a natural divide that will always happen when stories like these appeal to the widest of audiences of all cultures and ages. But I do personally think that going R is never the right thing to do for a character that is as important and incredible as Wolverine. There are always more ways to approach adult themes and messages in a movie that do not have to resort to R-ratings. Take 'A Monster Calls' as an example. That movie deals with some of the most difficult themes even I as an adult have seen on screen, and it does all this with the appeal of a fictional monster and a PG-13 rating.

And without the R-rating hook to rely on, Logan becomes decidedly average. I'd say it was almost identical to 2013's The Wolverine in terms of story, pacing, and design. It would seem that Mangold really didn't do much to improve The Wolverine other than tack on a whole bunch of on screen slashing and swearing. It wasn't boring enough to send me to my phone, but it wasn't exciting enough to really keep me interested. There were some mysteries here and there like the events a year ago at Westchester, and also the real cause of Logan's illness, but none of them really had any bearing on the story at all.

And so Logan lands in the pit of 'meh' for me. Not really anything to shout about. It will be sad saying goodbye to perhaps two of the most perfect pieces of casting ever in the world of Marvel. It is also a bit of a mystery as to what the future of the X-men franchise will look once the final movie between the two major X-men casts is fleshed out. Will we see the new mutants? Will the entire X-men universe reboot itself? It's hard to know.

A fun fact to end this piece is something I just learned recently. Some of my friends were lamenting that Hugh Jackman never once donned the famed Wolverine black and yellow suit and mask. But, it was teased in an alternate ending in The Wolverine. It actually makes an appearance instead of just a snarky joke mention and it looks beautiful. Go check it out.

In the meantime, here's to waiting for 2017's MCU showings to finally hit the screen.

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