#but I know dylan's hands incapacitate you

[daryandricky]

SWEAR

Chapter 2 INCAPACITATED

Rick Grimes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Shane tells reader that Rick didn't make it after the hospital was overrun, causing reader to travel with her former military brother to find somewhere safe.

Summary of chapter: Dylan (readers brother) comes to town to see Rick and to support reader. However, reader can tell that he is hiding something, and when he finally unveils the truth, it's too late.

Warnings: Swearing, torture, pregnancy, basic walking dead shit.

masterlist

August 4th, 2010

It has been exactly two weeks since Rick was shot. You rarely left Rick's side, only leaving when Shane or Lori forced you, or when the chair that the hospital room provided, became too uncomfortable, leaving you with knots in your back. However, Shane was being the hugest pain for you. Ever since you told him that you were pregnant, the man would not leave you alone. Oh, you need to use the restroom? So does Lori, she'll go with you. Oh, you're hungry? Stay here and I'll run down to the cafeteria and get ya something. He was constantly breathing down your neck, and you couldn't go anywhere without him being two feet behind you.

Yes, you acknowledge that he is just trying to protect you and be there for you when your husband was incapable of doing so, but god, did you want to wring the man's neck.

Shane was currently in the cafeteria grabbing lunch for you and Lori. You let go of Rick's hand, sighing as you lean back in your chair, resting your hands on your stomach. You haven't gotten your bump yet, but it comforts you to know that you still have a part of Rick with you in these uncertain times. You look over at Lori who is currently reading the book you brought with you every day, but you could never get past the first page before your mind started to drift off.

"Was he like this with you?"

"Hmm?" Lori asks, looking up from the book to you, confused.

"Was Shane this bat-shit and controlling when you were pregnant with Carl?" You ask, turning your nose up in disgust as you mention Shane.

"Oh, he was so much worse. When I was nearing nine months, the idiot wouldn't even let me feed myself." Lori laughs.

You gasp, and eventually you erupt into giggles. Covering your mouth with your hand, you look over at Lori to see her laughing too. Once it dies down, Lori looks over at you with a sympathetic smile and grabs your hand. "Don't worry Rick will be here for you and the baby in no time."

"Yeah." You whisper, and slightly nod your head. You fidget with your hands as your gaze moves to your sleeping husband. Your eyes well up with tears, but you force them to go back down. "Have you thought of any na-" Lori begins before she is cut off by Shane entering the room, arms filled with to go boxes and a bouquet of flowers.

"You would not believe the amount of people here today. Jesus Christ. Took me 40 minutes just to get through the line to order. Grabbed these while I was waiting for the food to be done." Shane says showing you and Lori the bouquet before handing the food to you. Shane stands above Rick, smiling weakly. "Hey man, you need to wake up, got some people who would like to say hi." Shane says, not really expecting a response.

Rick's eyes flutter the tiniest bit causing Shane to gasp and look at you. "Did you see that? His eyelids moved!"

You smile at Shane sadly and run your fingers through your husband's hair. "He does that a lot. Doctor said it's normal and that it doesn't really indicate any sign of progress."

Eventually Lori and Shane go home, leaving you alone with your husband and your thoughts. You smile fondly as you think about the first time you had kissed Rick. Your brother was in the police academy with Shane and Rick, and the three of them became a close-knit group. However, not long after graduating, your brother, Dylan, decided that being a police officer wasn't really what he wanted. So, the only rational thing for him to do would be joining the military. You despised this idea, as there was a current war in Yemen. Your mother wasn't too particular to the idea either, as your father was a marine before he was killed in action. Never less, she took it upon herself to throw a going away party before your brother went off to boot camp.

Dylan is introducing you to a few of his fellow academy buddies, before he drags you over to two loners leaning up against the side of the house, drinking beer. You've met one of them a few times, Rick. It was easy to talk to him, and you enjoyed his presence. Rick always seemed to strike up a conversation with you rather than anybody else, and it filled your stomach with butterflies at the thought that he might like you as well. Both Rick, and the new guy are extremely handsome, which effectively makes you blush. They see you and your brother making your way over there, and they smile happily as they do one of those bro handshakes. The one with dark hair starts making conversation with Dylan, both of them completely ignoring your presence. You smile at Rick and do a shy wave, nervous as he was already looking at you.

He grins "Want to go somewhere quieter?" He silently says, not really wanting Shane and Dylan to join the two of you. You nod your head and lead the way to your favorite tree along the fence line in your childhood backyard. You pat the tree, looking up at it with a faint smile. "This is Delilah."

"Ah, well Delilah, it's very nice to meet you." Rick says as he grabs a branch and shakes it. You giggle and lightly smack his arm. "Are you always an asshat?" You ask smiling as you sit down, leaning against the tree. "Only when I'm talking to pretty girls." Rick grunts as he plops down next to you.

You blush as you look up at him, biting the inside of your lip. Rick's eyes drift down to your lips, his face tinted red as well. "So, why Delilah? Seems like an out there name for a child to come up with." Rick asks.

"Well, before my dad died, every single holiday without fail, he would get me a bouquet of Dahlias." You smile sadly. "The best part though," you say laughing a little, "was that he insisted that they were called "Delilahs" you say, doing air quotes. "My mom is the definition of grammar police, so they always bickered back and forth on the right way to say it. I think my mom gave up in the end, because she eventually started calling them Delilahs too." You say smiling, pulling on the strands of grass next to your feet.

Rick looks down at you fondly, a light smile playing on his lips. "Well, I think Delilah sounds a hell of a lot prettier than Dahlia." He says before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and leaning in to whisper into your ear. "Gonna have to agree with dear old dad on that one." He moves his head so that his face is mere inches from your own. You watch as his eyes flicker down to your mouth, before slowly leaning in and pressing his-

Your thoughts are cut off when you see someone out of the corner of your eye enter the room. You turn to greet the person, expecting it to be Shane or a nurse doing rounds. Instead, you are met with the sight of your brother.

“Dyl? What are you doing here?” You ask confused as you get out of your seat to give him a hug. After your mom died of breast cancer and your brother went off to the army, your sole family was Rick. You guys talked, sure, but it was never enough. It was hard to find a good time to call him, with him consistently leaving the country and when he was home at his base in Virginia, he was too exhausted for a phone call. So, this was a pleasant surprise, and you were overjoyed to see your brother in person after 2 years.

“After you called me, I decided that it might be good for me to get away for a bit. Check on my little sister and best friend.” He says hugging you tightly, as he looks over your head at Rick sleeping. You look up at him and beam.

"Thank you." You whisper as you bury yourself into his arms.

Dylan’s been staying with you for about five days now, and there was something off to say the least. He was jittery, always staring into space like his mind was somewhere else, and whenever you tried to have a conversation with him, it would take him a few minutes to register that you were talking to him.

You’re standing in your underwear and bra in front of the mirror, examining your belly. You frown, as there is barely a difference. You turn sideways, looking at your stomach from a different angle and you trace the outline with the tips of your fingers. Frustrated, you sigh before grabbing a pair of pants and one of Rick’s t-shirts, sliding it over your head. It still smelt like him. You walk over to your dresser, grabbing a pair of socks. The blue present sitting on top, basically mocking you, reminding you of what robbed Rick. You slam the drawer closed and grab the present. You start to smooth out the dent from when you threw it, but it was still very noticeable. Tears well in your eyes as you beat yourself up over ruining the gift. “Why’d I do that? Oh my god I’m such an idiot.” You whisper to yourself.

"Fuck fuck fuck Fuck FUCK!" You hear Dylan saying to himself in the living room. You walk out of your bedroom cautiously and see Dylan pacing back and forth, muttering to himself, "It's too late. God damn it. Fuck!"

"Dylan?" You ask nervously. "What's going on?"

Dylan flings his head in your direction, caught off guard that he hadn't noticed you yet. He sighs before pointing at the tv. Too worried about Dylan you failed to notice the message that the television was broadcasting.

"STATE OF GEORGIA: ALL COUNTIES ARE NOW UNDER STATE STAY AT HOME ORDER. A VIRUS IS SPREADING RAPIDLY. STAY HOME AND DO NOT ENGAGE WITH OTHERS OUTSIDE. LOCK YOUR DOORS AND STAY SAFE." The message says before repeating itself.

You feel the blood drain from your face. "What the fuck does "don't engage with others" and "lock your doors" mean?" You ask confused and scared.

Dylan looks at you pale, "I lied okay. I didn't just come here because Rick was shot."

"Dylan will you please just tell me what the fuck is going on right now?"

Dylan sighs and sits rigid on the couch. He glares at you and points for you to sit. You do as he says, not wanting to get on his bad side. He rubs his hands down his face and says, "I promise you that everything I'm about to tell you is true, and that I only came here to protect you, ok?" Dylan asks, waiting for your confirmation before continuing. You nod your head, and your body tenses at his seriousness.

"I was recently sent on a mission to Russia." He starts. You look at him confused, as there has been no news about the United States having any business with Russia. "It was chow time," You roll your eyes at his military slang. "when there was a breach in the south wall. So, me and some of the guys went to check it out." He looks you dead in the eyes before continuing, "and y/n, I don't know how else to describe these people but as zombies." You scoff. "Har har, so funny Dylan."

Dylan scowls at you, "I'm not lying y/n! I saw these things tear up people, eat them, I saw them kill my friends! I saw- I saw my girlfriend get bit and watched her slowly turn into one of those things." Dylan whispers the last part as he looks down at his hands. You look at him confused, he's never mentioned a girlfriend before, and by the gravity of his tone, you could tell that Dylan was, in fact, telling the truth. You scooch closer to Dylan and grab his hands, asking him to continue.

"I- I was one of the last ones standing, so, I left. I knew it was only a matter of time before it spread here. I snuck onto a cargo plane and made my way back. I didn't think it was going to happen this fast, I just wanted to protect you y/n." Dylan says tearfully as he looks into your eyes.

"We'll be okay." You say smiling at Dylan, trying to make him feel better. "We'll lock our doors like it said, and just wait for this whole thing to blow over." Dylan shakes his head at you, biting his cheek.

"There's no "blowing over" y/n. This is it. We need to go somewhere safe. We need to get to my base in Virginia. They'll protect us. We'll be safe from those things." Dylan pleads with you.

You scrunch up your face, puzzled by what Dylan said.

"What about Rick, we can't leave him in that hospital, he won't stand a chance in there." You say as your stomach turns into knots at the thought of actually loosing Rick.

"We can't take him." Dylan says simply, avoiding your gaze.

"And why the hell not?" You ask fuming.

"Y/n, he's in a fucking coma! What would you like me to do? Drag his ass through 4 states? Huh? Doesn't sound very reasonable to me!" Dylan angrily yells.

"I'm not going with you." You whisper as you lay your hands on your stomach, staring daggers into the hardwood floor.

"Why? Y/n you won't make it five fucking minutes in that shit out there, let alone protecting a shell of a man in a hospital that's bound to get overrun with those pieces of shit!"

"I'm pregnant." You murmur.

Dylan takes a deep breath. "Then I'm asking you one more time, to please come with me. You don't want to raise a child on your own, let alone with those things trying to kill you. It'll be safe on the base. Please."

You look at Dylan with tears in your eyes. "Can we go say bye to him one last time?"

Dylan nods his head before standing up and heading to the guest bedroom. "We're leaving in 2 hours. Pack a bag."

You sat there frozen for you don't know how long, before you decided to begin packing. You don't even know where to start as you look at the clothes in your closet. You grab a few outfits and are about to go to the bathroom to get toiletries, when the sight of Rick's clothes stops you in your tracks. You grab his favorite worn in hoodie, a couple shirts for you to sleep in and a pair of his boxers. You finish packing your necessities before you head over to your dresser to grab some of the picture frames and albums, when the gift, once again catches your attention. You sigh and place it neatly in the center of the dresser. Maybe. You give it one last look before grabbing your bag to leave.

Dylan is already waiting for you in the drivers seat of your Subaru. He locks eyes with you and points at his wrist impatiently, even though he doesn't wear a watch.

You've just closed the trunk after loading your bag in, when you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. You fish it out and see Shane's name flashing across the screen.

"Hey Shane, we're just lea-" Shane cuts you off.

"Don't come to the hospital y/n. There's something wrong with these people." He sighs "I- I don't, it's not safe you need to leave. I can come pick you and Dylan up and the five of us can try to find somewhere, I don't know."

"Shane, what about Rick? Is he?" You ask not wanting to finish the sentence.

"When I got here there these psychos everywhere. I tried to make it to Rick's room but there were too many of them. There's no way that Rick would have survived th-" The phone goes dead. You look at the screen to see that the call was disconnected. You try to call him back, but you are only sent to his voicemail. Dylan honks the horn, looking pissed off.

"Shit." You say to yourself. You climb into the passenger seat and stare out the window. Is he dead too? You ask yourself.

"Who was that?"

"Shane." You whisper, before turning to look at your brother.

"Is he ok?"

"I don't know" You mumble. "Can't go to the hospital."

"What?" Dylan asks.

"It's overrun like you said. Too late." You say as tears pool in your eyes. Dylan gives you a sympathetic look before squeezing your hand.

You've been driving for about an hour and half when traffic came to a halt on the highway. You and Dylan have been stuck in the same spot for about 15 minutes now, and you both are filled with dread. Dylan's knuckles are white as his fingers grip the steering wheel. And then you see it.

You see why Dylan was so afraid. Why he begged you to come with him. Why Shane told you to leave.

A woman, not much older than you, was running in between the cars, trying to get away from the herd of, like Dylan said, zombies. You gasp as you watch one bite her arm, causing more to attack her, and drag the poor woman to the ground. You hear Dylan lock the doors, and you look at him with a scared expression. He raises his pointer finger to his lips, silently asking you to be quiet. All you can do is nod your head, as you are lost for words.

You close your eyes trying to put your mind on something else, when a body slams into your door, causing you to jolt in your seat. Your eyes pop open as you look out your window to see a man clawing and biting at the glass, smearing blood. You exhale a shaky breath and tighten your hold on Dylan's hand.

Soon, the herd has made their way past your car, and you look at Dylan with wide eyes. "You weren't joking."

Dylan shakes his head. "I'm going to look around, see if there's a way I can maneuver the car to get out of here."

He sighs as he gets back in the driver's seat. "The other cars are too close to us, and with the cement barrier, we can't get out."

"So what do you want us to do?"

"Walk."

"Walk?" You asked shocked. "You want to walk all the way to fucking Virginia?"

Dylan thinks for a moment before nodding his head. "What else are we supposed to do? Just wait here and die? I'll protect you and the baby, y/n. Maybe we'll find another car along the way."

You sigh, and nod your head, realizing his statement is true.

"Since when do you know how to hot wire a car?"

Dylan grins at you and hops out, getting your bags out and hands you yours. You sling it on and Dylan asks "You ready?" you let out a nervous laugh and with wide eyes you say, "Yeah, lets get the show on the road."

#rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #twd rick #twd x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #imagines #oneshots #fanfic #andrew lincoln

[ghostradiodylan]

What if, like Dylan with his hand, Nick got his leg cut off to stop the spread of the infection? I’ve been thinking of this idea since I finished the quarry….

This would be so interesting! I kind of wish we got the option! It makes sense that we don't because Nick's infection is the first one and nobody knows what they're really dealing with just yet, but if we did, then we'd have Nick around for the rest of the game, but he'd be largely incapacitated.

Would they leave him locked up in the nurse's station for the rest of the night? Or would they have to wheel him around in the wheelbarrow?

I feel like Abi would probably stay with him. Maybe if that was a path you could choose, they'd end up spending the entire night locked down in the storm shelter and they could have added more stuff for them to do down there. Maybe they could have had the option to fix the breaker box and/or have more interaction with Eliza since she appears down there in a few variations.

#hello beautiful anon #thank you for the ask #the quarry #the quarry what ifs #I swear I'm going to get to all these asks #brainrot with Bunny

[palidan-sheep]

I love Until Dawn but unfortunately I only like The Quarry.

gonna put spoilers incase ya yet to see the game, I suggest it. It’s a good watch but the ending is a tad-bit unfavorable. Shoulda stuck with the police interview, not a fucking length boring podcast...

Straight up, I absolutely enjoyed trying to understand the meanings of the Tarot Cards, I loved trying to imagine what would’ve happened had ya done this rather then that ya’know? What if they grabbed the fireworks? What if they went down this way rather then that way.

I had such a fun time piecing together the story and the clues.

But man, mystery and solving things aside, the lack of character exposure and development leaves a foul taste in my mouth.

Let’s start this off by talkin bout Nick.

From the play-through I watched(Jack’s) Nick was more or less dropped after the pool shit-show(maybe half way threw the game?) like, he explodes and then dips. We see him locked up on the Hacketts basement but what happened to him after the power goes out?

I get that you can’t really have us play him, he’s the enemy now but I just don’t feel like we really got the chance to play or interact with him. He was more or less incapacitated after his attack so there’s that too.

Just feels like Nick didn’t get awhile lotta time and attention given to him and he reminds me of Matt form Until Dawn. I get that he was essentially a Plus one being Emily’s BF but that man got like no screen time. He also reminds me of Jessica, home girl was asleep for like the majority of the game lmao.

Second off, Kaitlyn. She was also severely underused in my humbled opinion.

The way the game presented her, she just seem so full of potential, the way she put Jacob and Nick in the ground with her marksmen(?) skill's, how she often took charge of the situation, the fact that this girl jumped form a hanging car and landed back first on tires and proceeded to get up like nothing happened ?

They were playing her up to be the final girl and yet? She was just kinda there with Dylan against Caleb.

She’s like Sam tbh. Both feel like the final girls, both very bad assed and both reconfirm my *half hand flip*

Third off- ✨Ryan✨

He’s got to be my favorite but man, it just felt like there was something else to him, sorta like Josh.

He just felt like he knew what was going on or at the very least knew something that the others weren’t aware of. Considering how close he was to Chris, I wouldn’t have been shocked if he clued Ryan into the situation. Not outright tell him bout the werewolf’s but maybe that there’s creatures around here.

But who knows, maybe this is my over-critical mind thinkin that everything is sus and mistaking an awkward boy for something that he’s not. Also Him and Dylan ftw

Fourth- Emma. I don’t like her

No. Nope. Nuh. Not for me.

I just, no, She’s kinda manipulative and I don’t vibe with that. I get that Jacob is still in love with her and wants to stay with her and she doesn’t want to stay together. I can respect that, long-distant relationships aren’t for everyone so good on her for voicing her reasons. 

But there is absolutely no fucking need to string that boy on for that long, to keep flip-floppin and givin him hope. That's just not it girl. 

Also low-key thought that Emma and Abi were gonna be a item :P

Sixth of all Dylan is a fuckin king omg.

This man, i swear to god. He’s actual pretty damn smart and brave for telling Ryan to chop his hand off and being aware that there's an infection spreading when Nick is bite.  

He’s good “comedic relief”, quite funny and I like how he vibes with Ryan and  Kaitlyn. Gives off Chris vibes. 

I thinks he’s neat. 

Seventh goes to or girl Ash- I mean Abi. 

Lack of time and attention tbh. sounds/acts like Ashley. 

Kinda disappointed. 

Eight is Mister “needs to snap outta his fucking trance” Himbo Jacob.

He’s the jock(cough cough Mike cough cough) and just radiates himbo energy. 

Jacob, please im begging you, get over Emma. You’ll be better off I swear!!

Now on to various other rambles- 

Travis Hackett is Flame-thorough guy, could say the whole fam is but we all know how that fairs. 

I was also gonna cry my eyes out if Max died and Laura is pretty the final girl too. 

Also, don’t lie to me-the werewolf’s are just reskinned Wendigos. I get that they didn’t want to stick the whole fuzzy-wuzzy furry werewolf’s but surely, just surely, they could’ve made them just a bit more werewolf looking?

They all looked slimy and smooth, bit of fur here would’ve done some good at making it look more mangy and viscous. I get that they are all covered in blood and gore but, they just look like slimy Wendigos. 

I’m sure y’all could’ve guessed my stance on the end-credit scene but I’m sO DISAPPOINTEDIN THE LACK OF A GROUP REUNION. AH, there should've been tears shed for lost friends or tons of hugs and happy/awkward/flirty convos bout the whole damn night. but no, no, we got a podcast.

I get that it’s ties into the start with Ryan and the whatnot but we were robbed i tell you, ROBBED!!!

I’d give this like a 6.5 outta 10 tbh. It did keep me interested, loved all the clues and details despite some being super obvious(Dog boy...), Thought that Eliza was a good “replacement” for the totems and i enjoyed her but thought that her stroy kinda fell flat. You’d think she’d come out and like terrorize ya for your actions but no, she just threatens you. 

Honestly thought that Mama Hackett was gonna play a bigger role but i was so shocked when Jack blasted her face off lmao. Good realism tho, got the chance to shoot someone why not take it? why wait. 

#I just wanted to air out my thoughts #i enjoyed this game #will rewatch for fun #The Quarry #Abi Blyg #Dylan Lenviv #Emma Mountebank #Jacob Custos #Kaitlyn Ka #Nick Furcillo #Ryan Erzahler

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

just to make your day better/worse because i really am THAT bitch....... sorry not sorry

DEAR LORDDDDD!!!!

Not helping, but I don't even care. The tongue and the stupid expressions are some of the reasons he gets AT me. LOOK AT HIS ARMS IN THE LAST ONE!? I'm gonna.... lose my mind!

You really are that bitch, aren't you? I open up to you...tell you how I'm suffering...equip you with the knowledge of what fucks me up most...and then you throw it in my face like some kind of sexy 'fuck you'. I see you. I see you.

Welll...two can play that game...

ohshitthismayhavebackfired.....

#*grins like a maniac* #dylan o'brien #2015 comic con dylan #is my drug #but I know dylan's hands incapacitate you #not that I'm not feeling a little unhinged over them too #;) #dylan hands #dobshands #ask #fratboy friday #long post #sorry #mets #mets hat

[d-criss-news]

With the film industry as we know it—A-list stars swanning around studio lots amid the swirling winds of an entire city bellowing buzzwords about makin’ pictures—essentially nonexistent at the moment, here’s an especially provocative idea as we contemplate its eventual return: What if Hollywood was... better?

Not in terms of quality of output, though if we’ve learned anything through the industry’s glacial inching toward progress, that will follow suit. But what if the industry was more inclusive? What if it was less afraid of change? What if it allowed gay people, people of color, women, and minorities to tell their own stories, to be in charge—and what if the people accepted it? 

Better yet, what if it was always that way? 

Like the loud, harsh clack of a clapboard coming down on 70 years of motion picture history, Ryan Murphy’s revisionist manifesto Hollywood arrives Friday on Netflix with blinding, blaring, technicolor confidence. Hardly subtle, deliciously ostentatious, and admirably mischievous, the lavish seven-episode series is a love letter to Hollywood by way of 2020 think piece. 

It is messy and thrilling, upsetting yet profound; as uneven and as enthralling as any of Murphy’s big-swing, genre-contorting efforts: Glee, American Horror Story, or The Politician. But as with his soapy historical study Feud: Bette and Joan, it is a fastidious celebration of a glamorized time in Hollywood that mines nostalgia for modern meaning—a fragile undertaking swaddled in the dazzle of unmatched production design and talent pedigree.

Hollywood flops as often as it soars, but never rests in its grandiosity and ambition. The result is something escapist and frothy at a time when a retreat to a Hollywood happy ending is as alluring a fantasy as they come.

There is brilliant acting and there is bad acting. There are ovation-worthy ideas and there are off-putting ones. But, above all, there is reason to watch: It is gay, it is sexy, it is Patti LuPone.

Hollywood is a revisionist history of cinema’s golden age. It’s the 1940s in all their glamour and art: Casablanca! Citizen Kane! Alfred Hitchcock! Jimmy Stewart! Rita Hayworth! Cary Grant! It’s an era that’s been romanticized for so long that we’ve internalized it, morphing our own lifestyle aspirations to conform to its very heteronormative, very patriarchal, very (very) white ideas about sex and gender roles. These were ideas, however, that the industry was telegraphing, but not living in real life. Not at all. 

Murphy and his team’s rewriting of history pulls the curtain back, exposing the sexually fluid proclivities of the stars—leading men sleeping with male escorts; Oscar-winning actresses in bisexual affairs—and the damning, racist barriers to inclusion fortified by studio heads thwarting any opportunity for progress. 

Then, and here’s the crux of the whole thing: Hollywood changes that narrative. We glimpse the power dynamics inside Tinseltown’s gilded cage, and watch them being dismantled. 

Some of the players’ narratives are real, and some are fiction. That makes for an amusing parlor game for viewers, attempting to separate the true history from the imagined one, and should birth a cottage industry of “The Real Story Behind…” stories in the weeks to come. But these are actual people who never had the opportunity to live authentically or see true, equal opportunity in the industry. Expect there to be a split among those who find happier, reimagined fates for them a sweet gesture, and those who find it in bad taste. 

The story trains in on Jack (David Corenswet), a World War II veteran arriving wide-eyed in Hollywood, hoping some gumption and a jawline God shed a tear after creating will be enough to get him into the pictures. But he’s got a pregnant wife (Maude Apatow) to think about. Until he catches the eye of a casting director, he has to find some way to pay the bills. That cash flow comes surreptitiously from a gas station owner (Dylan McDermott), whose dashed Hollywood ambitions leave a soft spot for attractive dreamers like Jack—particularly ones who prove lucrative in his under-the-table prostitution business. A customer comes in for a fill-up, so to speak, and whispers the code, “I want to go to Dreamland,” and, well, you know the rest—and hopefully get the hardly nuanced metaphor about sex, power, sacrifices, and Hollywood.

This gas station business is without a doubt inspired by Scotty Bowers, the notorious L.A. hustler who died last year at 96, following a scandalizing, dishy documentary and memoir revealing the brothel he ran out of a petrol stand, sleeping with (allegedly) Cary Grant, Spencer Tracy, Bette Davis, Vivien Leigh, Gary Cooper, J. Edgar Hoover, and Rock Hudson. 

McDermott’s character, however, is not actually Scotty Bowers, a distinction that’s necessary because Rock Hudson actually is a character, played by Jake Picking. So is Henry Wilson, the monstrous, closeted Hollywood agent played by Jim Parsons, who trades blowjobs for representation. Elsewhere, real-life trailblazers like Hattie MacDaniel, Vivien Leigh, and George Cukor show up. Their presence, on the one hand, lends credibility and grounds the fantasia of diversity and acceptance that Hollywood builds to. It’s also morally amorphous.

Hudson was closeted until the day he died of HIV/AIDS. He didn’t get the happy ending imagined here, publicly coming out of the closet by attending the Academy Awards with his fictional black, gay screenwriting boyfriend, holding hands on the red carpet, and staying on track on his ascension to Hollywood hunk. There’s also no evidence that Wilson, as caustic and self-loathing as the devil himself when we meet him in the show, had a change of heart and becomes a LGBT crusader seeking amends and atonement. 

The wishful thinking is nice. But the bleakness of the reality shouldn’t be forgotten. There’s no clean place to land there, other than to consider both. 

But these are just a handful of Hollywood’s players, and not even the true engine of the plot. In typical Murphyland fashion, there is a dizzying constellation of characters and their errant business to keep tabs on. 

At the forefront is Patti LuPone’s Avis, the bored wife of a studio head (a scene-stealing Rob Reiner) who is first introduced as a client of Jack’s—hence all the press about the Tony winner’s explicit sex scenes that you’ve likely been reading—and eventually put in charge of the studio itself when her husband is incapacitated by a heart attack. 

If it’s novel now to think of a female in charge of greenlighting projects and making commercial creative decisions, imagine it seven decades ago. And Avis shakes things up. With a casting director (Holland Taylor, perfect) and producer (Joe Mantello, heartbreaking) as her conspirators, she greenlights and positions as the studio’s next blockbuster a film called Meg, with its historically diverse creative team intact. 

That means half-Filipino director Raymond (Darren Criss), black screenwriter Archie (Jeremy Pope), black leading lady Camille (Laura Harrier), and Jack and Rock in supporting roles. It takes willfulness to bulldoze the fortresses that bar progress. That is invigorating and moving to watch, especially as Hollywood dances between comedy, camp, earnestness, and tragedy with all the glee, if you will, that you’d expect from a Ryan Murphy production. 

There’s sex—hot sex, gay sex, interracial sex, intergenerational sex—and there’s farce and there’s a wardrobe and set budget to sweep you away like a riptide. 

There are scenes from Parsons and LuPone that will win them Emmys. Mantello and Taylor have a two-hander together that shattered me into so many pieces I am billing Ryan Murphy the cleaning fee. I worry that even with his Netflix money it won’t be enough—that’s how good it is. 

Mira Sorvino and Queen Latifah give so much in their scenes as guest stars that you wish they were in more but are grateful for the flawless blips of bliss, while Michelle Krusiec as Anna May Wong, the first Chinese American movie star, is the epitome of an actor making a monumental moment out of limited material. 

Criss solidifies his leading-man status—he’s captivating in every scene, even without much to do—and Corenswet brings glimmers of gravitas to eye candy. But the rest of the kids nearly torpedo the whole damn thing, they’re so miscast. The scenes with the older generation are so rich and such an utter joy to watch, it only makes the woodenness of performers like Picking and Harrier all the more egregious. Thankfully, there’s a larger message to it all that acts as absolution.

If Hollywood were a treatise on how society interacts with movies and TV both then and now, then the thesis could likely be boiled down to an early conversation between Raymond, Criss’ director character, and Dick, Mantello’s studio exec. It’s Raymond’s dream to direct a movie starring Anna May Wong. Dick kills the pitch, saying no one will pay to see a movie with an Asian lead, or any lead of color. 

Raymond doesn’t stand for that. How does he know? No one’s tried. “Sometimes I think folks in this town don’t really understand the power they have. Movies don’t just show us how the world is, they show how the world can be. If we change the way that movies are made, you take a chance and you make a different kind of story, I think you can change the world.” 

It’s not a stretch to argue that as the mission statement of Murphy’s entire career. He’s proved it time and again, from Glee to Pose: Bring the marginalized out of the margins and watch how things change. Someone just has to be the one to do it.

In essence, Hollywood sees Murphy dramatizing the progress that he played a part in catalyzing today, but imagining if it had come at a different turning point in cinema history—70 years ago. More tantalizingly, he raises the question of what society today might be like had it actually happened then. 

Is it a little self-congratulatory? Sure. But, hey, that’s showbiz, kid. 

#darren criss #the daily beast #hollywood #press #hollywood spoilers #just in case #april 2020 #hollywood review

[overheard-totally-correct-pjo]

First part of my distracting little side project. More of an introduction than anything as of right now, but I have some plans for it. Inspired via a tumblr post by @demigodgooglesearches. Enjoy part one!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perseus Brian Jackson hated his life, thank you very much.

He entered the life of gods and monsters at the tender age of twelve. The “deal” was that he would help the gods out in the Big Prophecy that was (probably) about him. If he reached sixteen he’d be out of this life, as much as his godly blood would allow.

Four months later he had been kidnapped by Hera and woke up after half a year of sleeping, without any of his memories. He was forced into another Great Prophecy. He went to Tartarus. He was so very beyond done.

He was going to go to college with his girlfriend in a city that would keep them safe from the monsters, and the legion would take care of any quests. Retired at seventeen.

Then came the Roman Emperors that never actually died, and have been festering under the surface for hundreds of years.

The third war Percy lived through dragged on until he turned twenty-three. He didn’t finish college, though Annabeth did. He didn’t see the point--he just wanted to go home to his mom and little sister.  He’d help with CHB, probably. Annabeth was with him. He was...he was going to be fine. Eventually.

And, for awhile, he was. He and Annabeth got married. They had a pregnancy scare. He helped kids get to-and-from camp and their families for the holidays, or for the school year, or for the first journey to camp. He cleaned the rivers and oceans for nonprofits and charities. He hung out with friends and loved his sisters (a set of twins named Lily and Kendra Andrews turned up at age eleven, three years younger than Estelle).

Estelle took over for Rachel right around that point, becoming the new Oracle of Delphi, and he was visiting her in her little den-space in the cave when...it happened.

It was a curse, of some kind, dredged up by a group of campers excavating an underground tunnel, connected to Bunker 9. Whatever the specifics were he was never told and didn’t really feel like asking, but the most basic run down was zombies.

Estelle with her lack of training didn’t stand a chance, no matter how hard Percy tried to protect her.

He didn’t go back to camp for a long time after that.

He only returned, six years later, to meet his newest half-brother Dylan Fisher.

Chaos himself then decided to fuck with everything.

Now Percy was forty-two.

His baby sister was dead, and so were a lot of his friends. His mother’s heart had given out not too long ago. Annabeth had died in a minor quest for information, three months ago, a mere errand that Hecate could have done herself.

He was expecting to die during this war. He was ready for it, whether it came from the swirly-thing that was currently dragging him from the couch or if it came in some epic final battle.

Percy Jackson was done.

~~~

Perseus Jackson was bewildered at the sharp left turn his life had taken.

His mom was killed by the minotaur--the very same minotaur from Ancient Greece--and his dad is a god, and his best friend is half-goat. The cam he was at was full of other demigod children of the Greek gods. Zeus blamed him for the thievery of his master bolt. Percy wasn’t even supposed to have been born.

He wasn’t able to sleep in the big, empty cabin after nearly dying from a hellhound and being claimed by Poseidon only a few hours before.

That was when a swirling...something appeared in the middle of the room, very quickly pulling him towards it.

Percy grabbed onto the sheets, trying to grab something heavier, but being unable before he was pulled in.

~~~

Persephone Jackson was extremely irritated at the newest (most likely) godly interference in her life.

She’d done her time--first with the Titans, and then with the giants. Her plans include finishing high school and going to college with her girlfriend, not this black-hole thing in her bedroom.

“Annabeth!” she cried out, desperately reaching for her across the bed.

“Perci-” Annabeth called back, waking abruptly.

The last thing she saw was Paul and her mother throwing open her bedroom door, and Annabeth’s outstretched hand. 

She was really fed up with all this godly stuff.

~~~

Delora Jackson wasn’t quite ready the newest adventure standing in her way.

Not that she had terribly many quests, like Thalia and Luke and Beckendorf and Katie and even the mortal Oracle of Delphi Samantha. The largest claim to fame Lora had was that her best friend was part of the Argo II quest, and that she had been a key player in a few of the battles with the Roman Emperors.

Her mom--that was, her “godly” (she was technically a nereid, not a goddess) mom--had invited her to the bottom of the ocean for a party of some kind. Lora had just finished hailing good-bye to her (technical stepfather) Uncle Poseidon, and kissed her mom’s cheek at the door when the portal opened up.

Her mother reached for her with the strength of the entire ocean, and Lora reached back. For a moment she thought her mother would save her. The next she was gone.

~~~

Percy Jackson was not ready to be on his very own quest, despite how much he acted like he might be.

It was easy to put on a front like he knew what he was doing. That was kinda the whole point of being a mortal that could see through the Mist, especially one that became the first known male Oracle of Delphi and the first living one since WWII.

He had actually only had a total of three lessons (two in archery, by Apollo himself, and one in swords) in weapons training. The closest he came to actually fighting came when he threw a half-empty water bottle at the Titan Lord Kronos.

In honesty, he probably was taking the news of Greek gods, and the subsequent war with the titans, and the appointment of Oracle, and being handed a baby girl only a few weeks later by Apollo who Percy knows he never slept with because he was the Oracle and wasn’t allowed.

He was somewhat managing.

A five-month-old was a lot to deal with but he honest-to-gods was. His mom and step-dad helped a lot, as well as a lot of the demigod campers. He loved Clara with all his heart, even when he was only getting to bed at who-knows-it’s-dark o’clock.

That’s when a portal-thing opened in front of him.

He fervently prayed to Apollo that he wouldn’t let anything happen to their little girl while Percy was gone.

~~~

Bianca di Angelo did not need anything else adding to the current quest that she was on.

There was the Greek campers trying to kill her, Nico, Hazel, Gleeson, Dina, Elanor, and Robert. There were Roman campers after Eleanor and Robert for deserting. The Greeks and Romans were going after each other. When the gods weren’t incapacitated by the migraines, most tried to kill the two children of Hades in a vain attempt to postpone the war. Kronos was possessing Margery and gathering his forces.

The portal that began pulling her in while she sat watch with Dina was really unwelcomed. There was nothing she could do to stop it, even as she twisted for her spear.

Damn her luck.

~~~

Peter Johnson had a fairly regular life that he was personally very happy with.

He was a marine biologist, his wife was a wonderful scuba diving instructor named Sabrina, and he had two kids. He wasn’t religious, though his father came from a heavily Lutheran background. He had a mortgage and a bichon.

A bichon dog that, in the middle of the night, woke him and Sabrina up by flipping out for seemingly no reason.

Well, no reason until what Peter could only describe as multiple portals opened up and dumped people into the room. About five or six, from what Peter could tell between all the yelling, barking, and salt-water pouring out from one of the...things.

That was one way to wake up, he supposed.

#into the percyverse #fic link #my fic #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percysonas #peter johnson #perci jackson #lora jackson #bianca di angelo #au