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boytickler35 · 7 months

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Outer Banks Tickle Show

JJ watches the young man squirm, laughing his ass off. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Pope’s mouth hanging open, eyes fixed on the screen, and he isn’t paying hard attention to whatever John B is saying. They look like they’re made out of wood, sanded down, and the padding looks like some kind of insulation but it probably isn’t what it actually is, some kind of foam for sure whatever it is. Towels will probably work well enough anyway. The lock is a basic padlock as far as he can tell, and John B can scrounge up something to work with. After that it’s a matter of the tech equipment, a camera, computer to stream it-

“JJ.”

“Hmm?”

“Can you do it?”

“Probably. I’d need two weeks probably. Max.”

Pope chimes in. “I don’t like this idea.”

“Don't be a chicken. This is the easiest money we’ll ever make.”

“No it isn’t! And why does it have to be JJ and me?”

John B gives a shit eating grin and replies, “Cause it’s my idea.”

He ignores their bickering and focuses on the video again. It should be doable. Get some wood, borrow a saw from the impound, a sander too. Making the frame will be easy and then he can… yea it should all work out.

“Give me two and a half weeks. I’m not getting the computer or camera, and you two are figuring out how to get people to watch. We can film at the Chateau next Tuesday. I’ve got to go get things and start. See you later.”

OBX OBX OBX OBX OBX OBX OBX OBX

JJ sets the last padding in while Pope fiddles with the camera, and John B sits on the computer announcing, “People are coming into the lobby.”

Testing the padding against his wrist and says. “I’m done.”

Pope groans. “If I say I’m not, can we give up?”

“Not a chance, I want that money.”

“C’mon Pope, I’ll be here the whole time.” John B says it with a smirk and JJ rolls his eyes.

“Are you trying to comfort him or make this harder?”

Pope opens his mouth when JJ gets in front of him.

“Listen. You want to walk, you walk, but then you don’t get a cut. If you stay, think of it as adding to your college fund. I don’t care either way, but you have as long as it takes John B to get me in to make up your mind.”

He moves back over to his masterpiece: a pair of double stocks. Honestly if Pope backs out, JJ’s going to be pissed he went through the trouble of making it a double but he’s been Pope’s friend long enough to know that the threat of exclusion will almost always get the desired result. Sure enough, as John B finishes settling the padding around JJ’s ankles, Pope is slipping his ankles into the other set of holes, grumbling but still doing it.

John B straps him in without saying anything, returns to start the camera, and then moves to sit next to the stocks where he isn’t in the shot and can see the computer screen. He’s impressed; the image isn’t as good as the video they watched but it isn't bad. He can see his and Pope’s feet front and center, and the rest of their bodies a little further back. On a tray under their feet are various tools. He was sent to pick a few up with Pope who of course freaked out the whole time.

The stream lobby is already filling up, fifteen viewers with pockets ready to pay them to get tickled… or do the tickling in John B’s case at least. Considering that it’s only been open for a minute, fifteen isn’t that bad; he guesses their advertising campaign worked well. Well, if you can call him and Pope modeling their feet for John B to take photos of and post their sizes with a shitty feather graphic advertising. Still, it got a ton of comments and promises to be there and it seems at least some of those were open.

“Alright,” John B announces to the camera, his voice relatable and cheerful for the watchers, “we’re going to get started in just a few minutes, let’s just go over the rules. For a donation of five dollars, you get fingers on whichever pair you want for three minutes. For ten, you can make that six minutes or use a tool for three. For fifteen, you can do a tool for six minutes. If you just want to let us know you’re liking all this, say it with a dollar.”

The chat is already exploding with comments, no money yet, which is a bummer, but the interest is there. His toes curl and flex absently as he reads people wanting to see his feet tickled. There are some weirdos in the chat for sure. Next to him, Pope looks terrified.

“The donations are open, tell us what you want to see.”

JJ watches as a message pops up, five dollars for him. John B reads it, sets a timer, and starts in. He has no problem tossing his head back and laughing as dull nails scrape up and down his soles. He’s glad he’s high right now or else he’d probably hate it more, but there was no way he was going into this sober. If this all works out, he’ll be rolling in dough. John B doesn’t have much technique anyway despite knowing that his friend watched videos on it. Basically he’s just scraping his nails up and down JJ’s soles and he’s ticklish enough that it works.

It isn’t a bad three minutes, actually it feels pretty short but it’s also only the first round and when John B lets up, he’s able to read chat which is calling him cute, and talking about how great his laugh is which feels pretty nice. They’re also talking about how cute his feet are, but he supposes they’re allowed to be weird since he’s making money off of them. Another dono pops up, ten for a brush on Pope’s feet.

He watches, and laughs, as Pope’s toes curl all the way up and he tries to back away, but JJ made the stocks escape-proof. John B grabs the brush even though Pope lets out a series of warnings for him not to come any closer. At first contact, Pope is howling.

JJ can’t really turn to watch it live, but he can watch the playback on the computer and watch the comments section. They’re meaner to Pope and call him a bitch but several comment that he also has a nice laugh and one says that chocolate soles are better looking.

It seems the time is even shorter when Pope is getting tickled because the timer goes off so quickly.

There’s a bit of a back and forth, donos. It’s not bad. Mostly he thinks the haze of weed helps, at the very least it’s probably giving him an edge over Pope who freaks out with every touch.

Things get amped up when a ten dollar donation comes in with no request for tickling, but instead oil on both sets of feet. Pope starts protesting and saying that isn’t in the options but John B doesn’t pay any attention as he picks up the bottle of baby oil and douses JJ’s first foot. The rubbing feels pretty nice honestly but he’s busy reading the chat and not paying too much attention except when John B hits a sensitive spot.

Chat’s going crazy though. Apparently they like when he flaps his feet, which is one of the only movements he has in stocks. He decides to do it once John B finishes oiling up his soles and moves on to Pope, who protests. His efforts are rewarded by several dollar donos, and more comments about how cute he and his feet are. Personally, he thinks they look weird all shiny but if it gets them more cash, he’s not above doing it.

When John B moves, he can see both his soles and Pope’s in the feedback from the stream, both now shiny and dripping with oil. Apparently, chat finds it hot, and lets them know. JJ wiggles his toes as he reads off the list of donos to John B that they got during the oil application.

“They’re all for you?” John B asks, confused.

He shrugs and replies with a smirk, “That’s what I get for showing off the goods I guess.”

It drives chat even more nuts even though Pope rolls his eyes. The other boy seems happy to be left out of the current tickling.

John B sets about using the variety of tools and techniques on his feet and, simply put, it tickles like hell. He bursts out as brushes on his heels turn to paintbrushes between his toes, fingers scratching his arches. The tickling continues for quite a while longer before John B breaks off. He’s panting, but he figures out why he gets a break when Pope breaks out with panicked laughter.

With the attention shifted off of him, JJ is able to go back to reading chat. They’re making fun of him and Pope but whatever, the shit they say has nothing compared to what he’s been called at home and honestly, it’s plain funny.

When the tickling comes back to him, it’s pipe cleaners between his toes -- which is a bitch -- but listening to Pope deal with it next is fun, so whatever.

Just when he thinks chat can’t get any weirder, a dono pops up, twenty dollars. The dono message is straightforward but JJ has to read it three times. It promises to double that amount if John B licks Pope’s feet.

When John B reads it, Pope protests right away.

“No. Not happening. That’s gross and weird.”

“It’s my tongue!”

JJ frowns and says, “Suck it up, that’s a ton of money!”

“Gross!” Both reply in unison.

“He showered before this. C’mon on, that's a huge dono to just waste!”

“It isn’t your foot!”

“Or your tongue!”

“It is my wallet. Make with the licking.”

Finally, John B does the sensible thing and lets his greed get the better of him and he turns back towards Pope’s feet, in the preview of the stream, JJ watches Pope’s toes curl and then hears the sharp burst of laughter as tongue makes contact. When John B’s head moves away, JJ can see the shiny trail of saliva on Pope’s foot as both look disgusted but a forty dollar dono arrives as promised.

In all, the stream lasts an hour and by the end of it, JJ’s soles are bright red from the tickling and his voice is hoarse but fuck did they make a lot of money. He’s pocketing a hundred and fifteen dollars and that isn’t bad. John B ends the stream and lets them out. Pope complains but he won’t when he puts the money into his college fund, and after that JJ might be able to convince him to get stocked again next week. He could get used to making bank like this!

#ticklestory #ticklishfeet #ticklefic #ticklishboys #tickle content #tickle thoughts #sfw tickling community #ticklecontent #ticklecommunity #tickle fic #tickles

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oddree13 · 10 months

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Restless Year - Chapter 10

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

(Prior Chapter) (Next Chapter)

(Read on AO3)

Chapter 10 - Story of My Life

As much as Eddie loves having D&D on Wednesdays, he’s happy to have an evening to just write a campaign instead of running one. Dustin had roped him into the idea of a New Year's Day one-shot because it originally sounded like a good way to kick off 1990. But with the chaos of the week, he's been too busy to think of his home brew let alone write it out. He has half a mind to call Dustin and order him to DM if he wants them to play so badly. God his past self would punch current Eddie right now for that thought. But that’s what growing up is, isn’t it?

Steve had teased him weeks ago for admitting to growing up. And sure, it’s not a thought he likes to dwell on. Honestly, it still makes his skin tight to think of himself as an actual adult, but it’s reality. He’s 24 and, for once, has priorities beyond getting high and rolling dice - like getting home around sundown to light the menorah with Steve. It’s funny how lackadaisical he was in the past about holidays beyond Halloween. But when that first Christmas with Steve came around he knew he’d do anything to rewrite all the shitty Harrington holiday memories, including watching Steve try maror like a champ. And now with the prospect of them adding to their family, it wouldn’t be the worst to have more than a few traditions to call their own.

The apartment is oddly quiet when he gets home. Eddie knows Steve and Max had plans to go to the movies this afternoon. He thinks some Disney film about a mermaid, but it's odd they aren’t back yet. He walks to the fridge to check for a note, but there isn’t one. Just as the worry in him starts to build, he hears muffled voices coming from the hall. It only takes a few steps to realize the voices are coming from the bathroom and wonders what on earth the pair could be doing in there together.

“Hey I'm home,” he announces, knocking lightly. “What are you two up to?”

It takes a few seconds but the door opens in answer. He sees Max and Steve on the floor, both their eyes red-rimmed as if they'd been crying awhile. Eddie's mind runs through a million scenarios. Did someone get hurt? Did the upside-down reopen? Is someone dead? Is this the reason for Max's visit?

Eddie scans the pair hoping for a clue when his eyes fall on the plastic stick in Steve's hand. "Sweetheart, is that yours or Max's?"

Max looks more amused than offended at Eddie’s question. Steve glances down at the stick, as if he’s worried the results would change, before passing it to Eddie. “Mine,” he offers, as Eddie’s eyes fixate on the little plus sign. He’s never had to take a pregnancy test before but he’s seen enough movies to know what that sign means. Steve is pregnant. Steve is pregnant, which means they’re having a pup. Eddie is having a kid.

A million things run through his mind. When did this happen? They’re going to need a bigger place. How long until a kid can learn guitar? Steve has definitely drunk alcohol recently. Do dads have long hair? I need to stop smoking. Do dads have tattoos? I should stop cursing so much. Can I take tattoos off? I need to build a crib. Can I take the baby to work with me? Can babies listen to metal? I hope the baby looks like Steve. Can the kid look like both of them? I’m going to have to hide my dice sets. How young is too young for a character sheet? Do they even live near good schools? Holy shit Steve is still in school. Holy shit I’m not in school anymore. Should I go to school? How am I going to help with math homework? Wheeler can tutor. Robin is going to kill me for knocking up her best friend. Wait, no, Steve is my mate. I can knock up my mate. His mate is pregnant. Steve is pregnant.

His brain keeps populating questions and worries until Max clears her throat, snapping Eddie out of his trance. He looks from her stern face to Steve who isn’t looking at Eddie but rather at the floor again. He realizes he’s been quiet for too long. He tries to form a sentence, but can’t get his brain and mouth to connect. All he can manage is a manic sort of laugh because just moments ago he was walking home thinking of the day they’d grow their family only for it to be happening right now.

Eddie leans against the door jamb, trying to compose himself as he just stares at the stick in disbelief and excitement. He can’t stop giggling, and fuck if this isn’t a way to end the decade.

“Please tell me that laughing means good news?” Steve asks him, his voice a little strained and watery.

“Great news, baby,” Eddie assures and sinks down to join his mate on the floor. He leans over to kiss Steve, pulling back eventually just to look at the stick again. “I thought we agreed on no gifts this year.”

That finally pulls a laugh from Steve. “In my defense, it was delivered around Halloween.”

“Nope, I’m out. Let me out,” Max declares, and starts climbing over the two of them to make her way out of the bathroom. Eddie scoots over just enough to let her leave and then closes the door.

He leans into Steve’s space, tangling their legs together. He pulls Steve into another kiss, needing to get his hands on his mate. They probably shouldn’t be sitting on the bathroom floor, but all Eddie wants to do is touch Steve and the location isn’t going to stop him. He let his hands slide down to Steve’s waist, his fingers gliding over the exposed skin, grinning once it hits him that his pup is in there somewhere. He breathes Steve in, his change in scent making more sense now. The last few weeks make way more sense in context.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie whispers as he shifts around Steve so he’s shoulder to shoulder with his mate, giving into his desire to scent him. Something about the gravity of this moment makes him keep his voice low, as if talking at a normal volume would wake him from this dream.

“So many things Ed. So many things. I was making breakfast when Max started asking all these questions… And a part of me knew, but a part of me thought there was no way. We hadn’t planned on it. I was on birth control. But Max kept insisting there was no harm in a test. So after the movie, I went to the store.”

Eddie can imagine Steve just sitting through the movie, vibrating in his seat while he tried to pretend everything was alright. A part of him wonders if he would have told Eddie if the test had been negative and he hadn’t come home at the right time. Sure it’s unplanned, but Eddie knows how much Steve wants kids. He knows that planned or not he’d be crushed by a negative test, and Eddie hopes that they’ve grown enough that Steve would share his disappointment regardless.

“How much of the movie did you actually manage to take in?”

“None of it,” Steve laughs, resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “Which is fine. Suzie will definitely want to see it and I doubt her family will let her watch it over the holidays.”

Eddie hums in agreement as his hand trials back to Steve’s waist, plucking at the edge of his shirt for permission. Steve lifts the fabric, and smiles as Eddie’s hand splays over his abdomen. “Nothing to see there yet babe,” Steve mumbles, eyes closing as he relaxes.

“Doesn’t mean there isn’t someone there.” In a matter of moments, Eddie’s whole world has changed. The last time his life changed so quickly, he’d been thrown into a world of chaos that left him on the run and with missing chunks of skin. And while this is definitely preferable to the upside-down, it’s no less terrifying. “So what do we do now?”

“I guess go to the local clinic just to get started and then find an actual doctor. Fuck do we even have health insurance?”

Eddie perks up at that. “Yes! Yes, we do. I actually get it through work and put you on it. Holy shit was that a responsible decision? Don’t expect that again anytime soon.”

They sit on the floor a bit longer until Steve starts to shift against Eddie. “Eds, love, we’re going to regret being on the floor very soon. And honestly, I need water.”

Their location suddenly hits Eddie and he feels very dumb for keeping Steve on the tile. “Right, bathroom floors are for revelations, not celebrations.” Eddie stands up first and helps Steve up, nuzzling him as soon as he’s upright. “I’ll get you water. Just go to the sofa and relax.”

“I can get myself water Eddie,” Steve tries, but without thinking Eddie rumbles. Any normal omega would maybe demure or obey. But not Steve. Steve just laughs and kisses Eddie’s cheek. “Sure thing Alpha, you can get me water. Bring Max some too if you want.” Eddie scents Steve again before letting him walk to the sofa and is about to follow when he spies their open bedroom door. He rummages around a bit to find what he needs and tosses it to Steve as he walks to the kitchen.

“Will you ever hand me clothes like a normal person?” Steve calls out as the sweatshirt leaves his face. Max finds it amusing, and Eddie only half listens as Steve tells her all the time Eddie has just thrown clothes at him. “It always happens when his alpha is in control,” Steve mumbles, pulling off his shirt, and swapping it for Eddie’s worn-in sweatshirt.

From the kitchen, Eddie takes in the view of Steve in his clothes curled close to one of their adopted pups. Out of all the kids, Max isn’t one of the most tactile, but it seems that the emotions of the day have gotten to both of them. If the polaroid didn’t make so much noise he’d chance a snap.

“Water for both of you and take out menus. We’re ordering in tonight,” Eddie announces as he walks back to the living room. He can see that Steve wants to argue, but when Max starts shuffling through the options he deflates.

“Can we have pizza?” Max asks. “Dustin keeps saying the pizza here is like pie and I sort of want to try it. Sounds better than the pineapple pizza El and Will keep trying to force on me.”

“Pizza sounds good. Definitely, no pineapple,” Steve seconds, leaning into Eddie who settles in behind his omega. As he listens as the two debate through topping choices, Eddie finds his hand drifting back to Steve’s waist, his fingers splaying protectively over his stomach. It’s barely been a half hour but he’s suddenly aware that there is something there to protect. Eddie’s never been one to give into instinct and he prides himself on it. But he can definitely say that if Max wasn’t in their pack, he would have shoved her out of the apartment and barricaded Steve in their bedroom.

“Munson. Eddie. Dad,” Max calls, waving the menu hand in front of his face. He snatches the paper from her and rolls his eyes at her smirk. “Order a cheese and a pepperoni, and some garlic rolls. Steve also wants cannolis.”

“Does he want cannolis or do you want them and are using him as an excuse? Also would please actually kill you?”

“No, I actually want cannolis. Max doesn’t know what they are and apparently ‘cheese is not dessert’,” Steve parrots back.

“Almost a year at college and you’re still eating like you’re in Indiana? Disappointment, Red. What do they teach you at school?” Eddie taunts and reluctantly gets up to order. “You two pick something to watch that isn’t sports. Pregnant or not, I’m not watching basketball.”

“Do you think they can hear me?” Eddie is settled between Steve’s legs, resting his head on Steve’s thigh so he can look up his omega’s body.

“I genuinely don’t know. I wasn’t in the omega development class when we had it in high school and my parents for sure didn’t give me more than the basics. I’ll go get a book or something tomorrow. Why do you want to know?”

Eddie stares at the strip of exposed skin between Steve’s pajamas and worries his lip. “Dunno. Kind of want to chat with them. Tell them how excited I am to meet them. See if they might enjoy the Hobbit while they chill in there.”

“Are you using this pregnancy as an excuse to finally get me to read Lord of the Rings?”

“Nah, you don’t even have to be awake while I read. I’m perfectly fine giving a performance to an audience of one.” Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s stomach before moving back up the bed to lie next to Steve.

“You think we’re ready?” The question hangs heavy between them because there isn’t a good answer.

Eddie plays with the ring on Steve’s finger as he thinks. “I don’t think anyone is ever really ready, but I’m down for another adventure with Steve Harrington. I know I never thought I’d make it this far so it’s not like I ever pictured this beyond the abstract.”

“You have baby names picked out Eds,” Steve counters.

“One name, Steve, and I guess teenage me was hopeful. I mean past me certainly didn’t actually think I’d find someone to like me let alone have a kid with me.”

“What would teenage you say if you time travelled to tell him?”

Eddie has to laugh at that image. “He wouldn’t believe me. Hell, I think he’d hate me in some ways. Fourteen year old me was a prick. But then again what fourteen year old isn’t? He’d punch me for cancelling D&D, call me a sellout for getting a job, but he’d be floored to know I bagged Steve Harrington.”

“Was I even on your radar at fourteen?”

“You were on everyone’s radar back then Stevie. Not even I was above notice. You were a pretty boy then and you're still a pretty boy now. Prettier really.”

“You’re just saying that because I have your pup in me.”

“That you do Stevie, that you do. But that only adds to how gorgeous you already are.” Eddie pulls Steve into his arms, curling protectively around his mate. “Thank you,” he whispers, half wishing the lights were already off so Steve wouldn’t see his face.

“For what Eddie?”

“Giving me a family to call my own.”

***

They manage to keep the news quiet for three days.

If Steve thought a baby would be the impetus for a bigger apartment, the four college freshmen invading his living room floor just confirmed it. With classes starting on January 2, Suzie and Dustin had to be back in the city. On his own, Lucas opted to fly out of O’Hare back to DC, hitching a bus ride with Dustin at the last minute.

Dustin has his notes for tomorrow laid out in front of him as he helps Lucas and Suzie make character sheets. He’d been so ecstatic at the chance to run a campaign that he didn’t question why Eddie was handing over the reins.

“Why aren’t you in there with them? You should go hang out.” Steve is whipping cream as Eddie cleans the dishes from dinner, the radio filling the kitchen with a companionable din.

“Because I feel like you’ve been cooking non-stop since Thanksgiving, and I need to do something. Besides I could say the same for you - they’re your kids too and you should be resting.”

“Eddie nothing has changed in the four days since we’ve found out. I will be fine making mousse. So go help Dustin and send Max in here. I’m sure she’d appreciate the break. We’re all going to sleep tonight with the sound of dice rolling in our dreams.” Eddie pokes Steve’s side before acquiescing and walks to the living room, a few cans of beer in hand.

“Are you actually letting us drink tonight or are you relegating us to sparkling apple cider,” Dustin asks, eyeing the beers in Eddie’s hand.

“That all depends, are you going to have a hangover for Dungeons and Dragons tomorrow if I let you drink?” Eddie’s threat is empty as he tosses Max a can. “Besides, the cider isn’t for you.”

“I know it’s for Suzie,” Dustin supplies, and Steve snorts at the assumption from the kitchen. For all of Dustin’s deductive abilities, he has a blind spot for the glaringly obvious. Like when he kept trying to get Robin and Steve together.

Lucas walks into the kitchen in lieu of Max, and awkwardly waves at Steve to check if his presence in the kitchen is welcome.

“Hey Lucas, come to help me wash up?” When he gets a nod Steve has to ask. “Is Max playing tomorrow?”

“No, no,” Lucas laughs, “she just told me to earn my keep. Which thanks again for letting me crash here for a few days. I’m sure you’re regretting your decision already.”

“Not at all. It’s nice to have visitors. You’ll get to see the shop tomorrow, and the staff will be thrilled to meet another one of Eddie’s kids - especially because you’ll be nicer than Max.” Steve had heard about her spat with Jamie - not from Eddie but from Max herself who was very proud.

Lucas smiles fondly at that, looking out of the kitchen towards the redhead. “She’s just protective of you. I mean we all are but Max cares about you. A lot man. Don’t tell her I said that though because she’d kill me for telling you.”

“My lips are sealed, but I’d like to remind you all that I am older than all of you and can handle myself.” Steve looks over and sees Lucas drying the same plate over and over again as if he’s thinking something through. Steve is about to ask Lucas to spit it out when the younger man beats him to it.

“Thank you for letting her stay here.” The statement is barely above a whisper but Steve knows it’s because he doesn’t want the living room to hear. “I don’t know if she’s told you why, and I barely know all the details, you know how Max is. I should probably be jealous or upset that she doesn’t come to me with this stuff but we’re complicated - what’s new,” he sighs.

Steve just listens as Lucas continues, moving around the kitchen to give them some plausible cover. “I’m glad she has you. I know we all do,” he assures when he sees Steve try to interject. “I think most of us were worried that once you and Eddie left you’d sort of move on from your babysitting role. But when you first called me at school to ask me for my game schedule I knew I was dumb for worrying.”

“I haven’t missed a game,” Steve preens and gestures to the fridge where Lucas’ game schedule is pinned.

“I know. Dustin tells me you make him listen sometimes.”

“I do. If I can learn the difference between a d20 and a d12, he can learn what a free throw is. But I’m not going anywhere, and neither is Eddie. The pack might be spread out now but we’re still a pack.”

“We’re your pups?” Lucas teases, to which Steve just nods.

“Yeah my first ones,” Steve agrees, earning a raised brow from Lucas. The music on the radio is interrupted by a reminder that they were fifteen minutes to midnight and Steve glances at the clock to confirm.

“Right, break out the champagne and cider and take that to the living room. Tell Eddie to put on the ball drop. I’m just going to pipe this really quick.” Steve finishes decorating the mousse in a few minutes, just in time to watch Eddie argue with Dustin over the drinks.

“I know how to count Eddie. It’s five glasses of champagne, one of cider,” he bickers, trying to slap Eddie’s hand away from tossing back the extra champagne glass.

“Henderson I know you’re used to being one the smartest people in the room, but I think for once I know more than you,” Eddie chides and pours out a glass of cider for Steve, passing it to his mate.

“We aren’t driving anywhere tonight, why aren’t you drinking?” Dustin questions, eyeing Steve suspiciously. Lucas looks between Dustin, the cup, Steve, and then Eddie who is looking smug. Steve watches as the gears turn in his head and when he looks at Max she just nods.

“But you were drinking at the wedding!” Lucas worries.

“They just found out,” Max supplies, trying to assuage his concern.

“Found out what?!” Dustin whines, not enjoying being left out of the loop. His exclamation makes Suzie gasp, bringing everyone but Dustin into the know.

“Oh my goodness that is so exciting! Congratulations!”

“Congratulations to what? Can someone tell me what is going on!”

As much as Steve likes watching Dustin flounder on his curiosity voyage, he figures someone should take pity on him lest they miss the start of 1990.

“It’s your turn to be the babysitter Henderson.” Steve watches as everything clicks into place for Dustin. He’s pretty sure that if he wasn’t sitting on the sofa, Steve would have been on the floor from the force of Dustin tackling him.

“Whoa, whoa, easy Dustin, that’s my kid in there!” Eddie scolds, causing the younger man to panic at his action, which only makes Steve laugh.

“You’re fine, Eddie is just in full protective mode. But yeah we just found out a few days ago.”

“I found out first,” Max crows, clearly trying to needle Dustin who is reeling from the news.

“What?! Why did she find out first?” Steve isn’t sure why his pregnancy would be the exception to Dustin and Max’s constant one-upmanship but he’s putting a stop to it before it starts.

“Alright enough everyone, we’ve got a minute to midnight and I want a moment of calm before our phone starts ringing,” Steve calls out, settling the room down, even when Dustin shoves Max playfully. “Get your drinks and watch the damn ball.”

“Yes Mom,” everyone mutters and when he hears Suzie’s voice in the chorus he quirks a brow at her.

“What? It’s not a bad title,” she shrugs, walking over to soothe Dustin’s ego.

Eddie takes the vacant spot next to Steve and winds an arm around his shoulder. “If you thought this was bad, wait until Robin finds out she’s not the first to know.”

“Just shut up and kiss me, Eddie.” “With pleasure. Happy New Year, baby.”

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #omegaverse #steve x eddie #six kids and a winnebago #steddie fics #myfics

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aparticularbandit · 2 years

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i don’t know what happened this was just supposed to be a short little overview headcanon thing and turned into a longer thing so i guess here you go idek what this is.

...eve and agatha settling in on the couch for one of eve’s shows (also sometimes they dancing with the stars, but agatha spends so much time griping during it) and one of claire’s campaign ads pops up.

agatha groans and wants to fast-forward through all of the commercials, but eve stops her. no, i like hers. they’re actually good. sometimes they’re funny!

babe. they’re never funny. agatha always gets up when eve decides to leave the commercials, uses it as an excuse to get another bowl of popcorn or another bottle of mike’s (more for general vibes than actually getting buzzed; eve drinks cranberry half of the time, when agatha isn’t calling her an old lady for doing it (or stealing one just to see what they taste like), and agatha usually grabs the peach (or one of the pineapple mixes)). when she comes back with a bottle and eve still has the governor’s campaign ad going, she leans forward on the back of the couch. alright. takes a sip from her bottle. why do you like this one so much?

eve pauses and glances up. she kind of looks like you.

agatha’s brows shoot up. no, babe. she looks like you.

me? eve stares at the screen again. she’s too thin to look like me. and tall! i’m not that tall.

agatha points at the screen with her bottle. yeah, but she’s married to mr. white trash--

you don’t know that he’s trash--

--which fits better with you--

eve slaps her arm.

hey! agatha steps back away from the couch. you said it yourself! ted’s trash!

eve crosses her arms, furrows her brow, absolutely refuses to look up at agatha. he’s a good dad to his other son.

and not to brendan. he’s trash, babe. agatha takes another swig from her bottle. look, do you even like her campaign? think she’ll be a good senator? did you even vote for her?

eve sighs. let’s not talk about that. she starts the ad again.

agatha groans and slips back onto the couch next to her. i didn’t mean to offend you--

hush. the governor is talking.

agatha scowls and reaches across to pause the commercial again. you’re mad. talk to me.

eve grows smaller against the couch than she already is. i’m not trash.

i didn’t say you were, hon. i said ted was trash. you and ted are not the same.

but you said her being married to trash fit better with me--

it was a joke! agatha shifts closer to eve, and eve just glances up at her. besides, she murmurs, she’s a little old to be me, hon. trust me. if she were my age, i wouldn’t think she was attractive at all.

eve’s eyes narrow. so now i’m old AND you’re attracted to our governor. thanks.

eve. hon. agatha curls a loose strand of eve’s hair around her finger (the rest is in an untidy bun, high atop her head, leaving her neck very exposed, which is extremely unfair to agatha, and is honestly probably how this conversation really got started). i only think our fair wonderful governor is attractive because she looks. like. you.

for a moment, eve doesn’t move. she just stares at the screen, at claire’s face in that running for senate not quite smile. it’s always so fake. she knows it’s fake, but she likes to believe that it isn’t. besides, if everyone always thinks the politician’s smiles are fake, what happens when they aren’t? maybe that’s a real smile. on claire, maybe, she’ll believe it’s a real smile. or at least the closest she can get to under the circumstances of filming however many variations of this there are (and she’s seen quite a lot of them this year). then she glances over to eve, bright blue eyes meeting eyes just as bright as hers. really?

mm. agatha brushes her thumb along eve’s neck. she’s pretty sure, at this point, that this was intentional. it has to be.

eve shifts so that she’s angled a little more towards her. you’re not just saying that.

of course not, hon. agatha leans forward, breath hot on eve’s neck. she’s just a politician. if you ask me, she nips at her skin, you’d be a lot better at the job.

now you’re pushing it. eve shifts again, easy, leaning back into a more comfortable, more familiar position, with agatha’s hand still on her throat. she bites her lower lip. no choking. you know i don’t like the choking.

agatha brushes her thumb across eve’s neck. i remember. she sucks hard enough to pull a whimper from eve’s lips and grins in spite of herself.

can we at least turn the tv off? eve asks, glance moving briefly from agatha back to the screen. it feels like she’s staring at us.

agatha just shrugs. let her. she follows eve’s gaze. we spend enough time with her campaign ads, she can spend a few minutes with us, don’t you think?

i’m not sure-- but when agatha kisses her again, eve nearly forgets, hand already moving beneath agatha’s shirt to trace her fingers along her skin. fine, she murmurs. i don’t care. let her look.

the tv stays on pause, that awkward sort of politician smile and wide blue eyes staring out, unseeing, as the other two spend the next several...well, reminding each other that, actually, the governor is not at all the attractive one, and they really only have eyes for each other.

which sounds really romantic, but knowing these two, it came out in much less romantic and much more expletive terms.

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shesirens · 1 year

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spotted ! AMBHOM ‘JENI’ SUKSI on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid ! many say that the THIRTY ONE year old looks like DAVIKA HOORNE , but i don’t really see it . while the ACTRESS & SOCIALITE is known for being COSMOPOLITAN my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be HEDONISTIC . i swear , every time i think of them , i hear the song HIGHER BY RIHANNA .

full name : ambhom janneke suksi . nickname(s) : jeni . origin : ambhom [ thai origin meaning sky ] , last [ thai origin , unknown ] . age : thirty one . date of birth : december 24th, 1991 . place of birth : auckland , new zealand . gender : cis woman . pronouns : she / her / hers . religion : agnostic . sexual orientation : heterosexual heteroromantic . language(s) : thai and english . occupation : award winning actress and founder / ceo of suksi beauty .

it’s nearing christmas of 1991 in auckland , new zealand when a nervous yet excited kamnan suksi rushes his wife , anneke , to the nearest hospital . the couple was overjoyed to be having their first child together , but their daughter wasn’t due for another week ! the couple spend the next three days in auckland city hospital , with anneke in labor for eighteen hours . after years of being with one another , the couple welcomed their first and only child , ambhom into the world just a few short hours before christmas day .

for the next ten years , ambhom is nicknamed jeni and the family lives comfortably in the affluent neighborhood of herne bay thanks to kamnan’s work as a successful entrepreneur in the city and anneke’s past as a highly sought after model . it’s no surprise that jeni develops an interest in the arts thanks to the exposure that she receives as a child , often attending different camps to find her interest . the little girl is animated with the blessing of comedic timing , and it’s when she’s five that she is placed in front of the camera for the first time .

the beautiful little girl stars in several commercials in auckland , and it’s no denying her talent . for years , she auditions for small roles in television shows , eventually being approached to pursue bigger roles by auditioning to be represented by a company in new york city . initially , anneke and kamnan are nervous to expose their daughter to the film industry , afraid of what could become of her in such a cutthroat world . they talk it over with jeni , wanting to be sure that acting is what she truly wants , and before the family knows it , they’re settling in an expansive condo in the bustling city of manhattan .

jeni signs on to be represented by the company , and she starts her auditions . at first , it’s the same story of commercials and ad campaigns for the likes of macy’s and other popular department stores , until she finally nabs her big break . she nabs the role of rory gilmore in an upcoming series , at the tender age of fifteen . the role proves perfect for the teen , with her dry humor and line delivery often praised . jeni is well loved by the public despite it being her first role , and finds herself in the position as something of a media darling .

the series ends when she’s twenty two , and she takes on her first adult role as andrea fitzgerald in gone girl , effectively shedding her child star image . the next couple of years fly by , and jeni lands the coveted role of eve polastri in the bbc series killing eve . the show skyrockets jeni’s level of fame at the young age of twenty four . for the next four years , jeni splits her time between europe and new york , before she decides to purchase a home in los angeles in late 2019 . before jeni made los angeles her home , she starred in her academy award winning role of amelia dolan in la la land , yet another role that skyrockets her career even higher than before .

with a number of prestigious awards under her belt , most of the industry was surprised when jeni suddenly stepped out of the spotlight after her last film role in 2020 . jeni had always had something of a private life , so the sudden sabbatical stunned the public as they wondered if she was leaving acting for good . despite having a much smaller resume compared to other actors , jeni had established herself as a highly sought after actress , and simply found that she was ready to pursue another avenue . after three years of work , jeni debuts her brand suksi beauty , and it’s an instant hit .

now , jeni still hasn’t officially come out of her sabbatical , but she has signed on for a new role . she is primarily working on growing her brand , but still is hailed as a media darling despite how privatized her life is . she’s well known for having a pleasant personality and for embodying the good of celebrity , but she does find herself to be the center of baseless rumors like others . jeni has a humble disposition as well , although she is often labeled as an ice queen as she isn’t very forthcoming when it comes to being asked invasive questions that she doesn’t want to answer .

headcanons.

jeni is the kind of woman who appears as mysterious as they come . she is the type to have a drink in a crowded bar and leave before midnight .

she sometimes struggles with expressing her feelings , and she does not like to invite people into her life who only seek to hurt her in the end . in the media she is seen as warm and inviting , but in private she can be rather reserved and sometimes even skeptical of all that goes on around her .

resides in an expansive hollywood hills , california home with a value at $6.9 million . she purchased the home shortly after returning from europe following the completion of killing eve , and has resided there ever since . although she doesn’t drive often , jeni has made a 2023 porsche taycan as her preferred vehicle .

following her divorce , jeni has no interest in forming long term relationships . she doesn’t have a fear of them , but she doesn’t know how to move on just yet . she would rather bide her time with meaningless hookups , even though those are pretty much nonexistent as well .

no one knew jeni was married until after her divorce was finalized . she is too good at keeping her private life to herself , which is why there was no information regarding their engagement or wedding ( especially as the ceremony was private and in their shared home ) . tabloids were suspicious , but were never successful with proof until the divorce was settled .

she has a driver named meyer , which she has had for the last five years . he is best described as an older man , about mid - 50s , with salt and pepper hair and a greyed beard . he stands at 5′11″ and the two have a close relationship .

jeni took a sabbatical for two and a half years to officially launch and promote her makeup brand , suksi beauty . the brand has been showered with praise since its release , and is currently sold in sephora stores as well as through the brand’s website . suksi beauty is headquartered in jeni’s home country of new zealand , and there are three brick - and - mortar stores in los angeles , new york , and auckland .

#hillzhqsintro #1 / 4 !

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xsssbgn · 8 months

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A Supreme Being

ACTRESS JILL HENNESSY IS THE first to admit that the time she spent filming Autumn in New York this fall didn’t exactly constitute hard labor. Sure, she had to scramble down a ladder while dressed in heels and a full-length evening gown. But this was one gig with great benefits—and we’re not talking 401 (k). Richard Gere, as her playboy ex-boyfriend, was positioned directly above her. “There was a moment where I’m looking up at him from a rather low perspective,” says Hennessy. “And I had, shall we say, an exceptional view. I’m thinking I really have to thank God for this moment. How lucky am I? I would have paid them to work in this movie.”

Who wouldn’t? Certainly not the devoted fans who mob the set daily. “He was being filmed inside a taxi,” marvels Joan Chen, who is directing the romance, due next fall, “and all at once these women began to yell, ‘It’s Richard Gere!’ Some were just squeezing their hands and holding their heads and trying to get a better look. You see it every day.”

Actually, Gere has seen it for decades. From his career-making role as the brooding stud-for-hire who showed us his buff stuff in 1980’s American Gigolo to his crowd-pleasing performance as the rakish reporter who had us screaming “Wrong way!” at a fleeing Julia Roberts in last summer’s Runaway Bride, the 5’10” actor has had a hypnotic effect on women. “It happens everywhere,” says his close friend and 1986 Power costar Kate Capshaw. “At restaurants, walking down the street, they’re passing notes to the table, they’re sending flowers.”

A remarkably fit 50, Gere appeals to females who weren’t even born when he launched his career in 1969. What’s more: He knows it. “It’s not that far-fetched,” he told Women’s Wear Daily with characteristic cockiness when asked about the 22-year age difference between him and his Autumn costar Winona Ryder, 28. “No one would say anything if I was involved with a woman that age.”

It is exactly that swaggering confidence that has kept fans in his thrall for more than 20 years. It’s true that the tresses have silvered. And the once-angry young man is now a devout Buddhist who meditates regularly and campaigns tirelessly to free Tibet from China. His close relationship with the Dalai Lama, whom he reportedly met through his friend, Rolling Stone publisher Jann Wenner, in 1983, has added another dimension to his character. But within this mellow fellow is the soul of a rebel. Free-spirited and dangerously charming, Gere is the bad boy women love to love—even though he’s bound to break a few hearts. “Richard is kind of like a Persian cat,” says his 1995 First Knight costar Julia Or-mond. “You want the cat to give you its attention, and the cat is very independent. But when the cat wants it from you, it’s irresistible.”

Just ask Gere’s ex-wife Cindy Crawford, who, on the brink of her betrothal to Rande Gerber, admitted that she still couldn’t imagine talking to Gere on the phone. “It’s hard,” she told Redbook in August 1997. “It’s kind of like, I don’t want to fall back in love with him.”

Crawford’s loss has been Carey Lowell’s gain. The 3 8-year-old former Law & Order actress is expecting Gere’s baby early next year. “[It’s] one of the real joys in my life right now,” the actor told Larry King in August. But if Gere has found his soulmate, he is also holding on to his freedom. The relationship succeeds, says pal Sharon Simonaire, a New York City interior designer, because “Carey lets him be who he is and loves him for it. She doesn’t want him to change.”

The fact that Gere can’t be tamed is what drives women wild. When actress Brooke Adams, who would later work with him on 1978’s Days of Heaven, first encountered Gere at a downtown Manhattan party in the early 1970s, “he was surly, mysterious, angry,” she recalls. “He was my friend’s boyfriend, but I thought he was the sexiest man alive. When he puts his attention on you, you feel like you’re in this huge spotlight.”

Time has not diminished his charms. “He listens to you,” says Laura Linney, his costar in 1996’s Primal Fear. “Right off, he is interested in who you are and how you got there.”

Bai Ling, who starred with Gere in 1997’s Red Corner, was taken by “the light that comes out of his smile.” At their first meeting, “Richard gave me a very tight, warm hug that took all my stress away,” she recalls. Later he subjected her to tickling attacks that ruined at least a few takes. He even introduced her to his folks. On the evening of Red Corner‘s Manhattan premiere, Ling sat at the piano in the actor’s Greenwich Village pad and accompanied them on a chorus of “Home on the Range.”

It was only 200 miles away in Syracuse that Homer Gere, 77, a retired insurance salesman, and Doris, 75, a homemaker, raised their five children. Second-born Richard was on North Syracuse Central High School’s gymnastics, lacrosse and ski teams and played trumpet in the band. “He was a phenomenal gymnast, but you wouldn’t call him a jock; he had a lot of friends, but he wasn’t into being superpopular,” recalls classmate Chuck Parry, now a Syracuse minister, who used to play Bob Dylan songs on guitar with Gere after school.

Girls were drawn to the self-assured idealist who favored jeans and Army surplus jackets. Gere dated only the brightest ones, like steady Diane Fredericks. “We went to the movies a lot,” Fredericks, now married and living in New Hampshire, told PEOPLE in 1984. “It was always old films and monster movies. People tend to think of him as a sex object. I never thought of him that way. He was too intelligent for that.” After graduating in 1967, Gere accepted a gymnastics scholarship to the University of Massachusetts Amherst, where he majored in philosophy. But he fell in love with acting and dropped out in 1969 to pursue the profession full-time.

Though he spent a few years in New York City as the proverbial starving artist, he was never starved for attention. When actress Penelope Milford met Gere on the set of an Off-Broadway musical in 1971, she says, “he had already dated all the girls in the cast,” including costar and future disco-diva Vicki Sue Robinson. “Vicki Sue said to me, ‘Watch out. He’ll love you and leave you,’ ” recalls Milford, who dated Gere for seven years. “I was like, ‘Not me.’ But he was real nice to me, then all of a sudden he started acting aloof, and that was the hook.”

The women kept coming. Actress Sally Kirkland recalls the still-unknown Gere crashing a star-studded party she was throwing for Robert De Niro and Al Pacino in the mid-1970s. “Joni Mitchell was there, and Donovan. Mick Jagger crashed too. But as Richard walked in, I just stopped. I was supposed to be greeting people but I couldn’t. I was just mesmerized.” So was fashion designer Diane Von Furstenberg when she met Gere at a Thanksgiving party a few years later. “He walked like a biker, and that attracted me,” she says. “I knew I was going to get my hands on him. I seduced him.”

Brazilian artist Sylvia Martins, who came under Gere’s spell in the 1980s, says their romance thrived for seven years because “we’re both very independent and we loved to explore.” Together they traveled to such exotic locales as the jungles of Borneo, where they crash-landed in a helicopter among native tribes, and the island of Bali, where Gere went off to meditate alone on a volcano. “That’s the kind of thing we used to do and find it totally normal,” Martins says. But the attention that Gere attracted from other women was hard for Martins to handle. “I felt hurt and sad when women started throwing themselves at him,” she says.

Gere’s onscreen sexuality was also combustible. His full-frontal nude scenes in 1980’s Gigolo were among the first in mainstream cinema. Yet Gere brushed off America’s shock. “In Europe,” he later told Cosmopolitan, “this is pretty parochial stuff.” His coinciding Broadway appearance as a homosexual Holocaust victim in Martin Sherman’s Bent was equally risky, prompting rumors that Gere was gay. At the time, the actor refused to respond. It was only years later, when the gossip extended to his marriage to Crawford, that he defended their hetero-sexuality in an ad that he placed in The Times of London.

Inevitably, some risks didn’t pay off. After confirming his place in heartthrob history with An Officer and a Gentleman (1982), Gere turned down the leads in Die Hard and Wall Street and wound up appearing in a string of flops like King David and Miles from Home. But he came bounding back in 1990’s Pretty Woman with his surprisingly whimsical turn in the role of a corporate raider bummed-out in Beverly Hills. The film eventually earned more than $460 million worldwide, made a star of Julia Roberts and confirmed a sea change in her leading man: Richard Gere had lightened up. In fact, he was so eager to get the part that “he jumped up and danced on the table,” recalls one of the film’s producers, Arnon Milchan. “He actually danced.”

Shortly thereafter, Gere landed his own pretty woman: supermodel Crawford. They married in a Las Vegas chapel in 1991. “I didn’t want to lose [her],” he said at the time. But it was not to last. “Richard was very torn up after his marriage broke up, just devastated,” says his friend Sharon Simonaire, who blames the 1994 split on their age difference (he was 45, she 28) and Crawford’s impatience with Gere’s Buddhist causes, which Crawford, a nonpracticing Protestant, didn’t share. “Cindy had problems with his going off to India and being away,” Simonaire says.

Then, in the fall of 1995, Simonaire introduced Gere to her friend Lowell at a Manhattan restaurant and saw the sparks ignite. After the pair spent a weekend together, says Simonaire, “Carey called and said, ‘He’s so damn funny. He pulled his sweatpants up to his chest and walked around kind of scratching himself.’ It reminded her of how her father used to joke around the house.”

Four years later, Gere has settled in with Lowell and Hannah, her 9-year-old daughter with ex-husband actor-director Griffin Dunne. The three share a spacious Greenwich Village town-house decorated with an eclectic mix of 1940s French furniture, Eastern artwork that Gere has collected from his travels and his own acclaimed black-and-white photography. Gere showers his leading lady with gifts of rubies, pearls and shawls from his Indian sojourns. She spoils him too. In September she threw a 50th-birthday party for him on a rented rooftop overlooking the Hudson River. Buddhist monks chanted, more than 100 guests feasted on Asian food, and Lowell presented a specially made video containing clips from Gere’s old TV interviews and birthday wishes from his friends. At the end, recounts party guest Bai Ling, “Carey came on and said, ‘There’s somebody else who wants to say “Hi.” ‘ She opened her shirt to reveal a face painted on her [pregnant] belly. Richard was crying, he was so moved.”

As soon as his tears were dry, though, the twinkle no doubt returned to his eyes. After all, this is not a man who is made of mush. When he reads this story, says Simonaire, “I don’t know how he’ll be to live with. He may be strutting around the house like the Sexiest Man Alive.”

Anne-Marie O’Neill Sue Miller in New York City and Pamela Warrick in Los Angeles

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wedding-videograpner · 1 year

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A professional commercial videographer and commercial video production company.

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morenomoreno65 · 2 years

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Youtube Views

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onewithnomightypowers · 3 years

Text

clandestine (chapter 3)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 3: sparks fly

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. i hope you guys like this chapter!! feedback is always appreciated.

warnings: drinking, smoking, cursing

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist main masterlist chapter 2 chapter 4

JFK to Heathrow was a 7 hour flight. Y/N was going to London to promote her new movie with Tom. She wasn’t the lead but was still asked to do so because she was going there to film her new movie over the summer. She reached London at 10 a.m.

She felt exhausted even though she had slept throughout the flight. She hoped that London would give her some peace. New York, her home, came with exhausting people, came with Haz. Every conversation with him was mentally draining for her. London was not New York. London had Tom, who was the opposite of Haz.

Haz was someone who would walk into a room and make everyone aware of his presence. He would make sure that he had the upper hand over everything. He was insecure, and anyone who really knew him could tell, but he would try his best to hide it by being a cocky, confident version of himself. That might have made people believe that he was arrogant or obnoxious but Y/N knew that deep down, he was still trying to navigate through the world and that in particular, made Haz so charming.

Tom, on the other hand, was quiet about his confidence. He was the kind of person who just walked into a room and didn’t have to be arrogant to have all eyes on him. There was something beaming from within him that he probably couldn’t even control that made people turn their heads. When you see him, you just feel like walking over to him and talking to him for hours.

He felt like enjoying your favourite song without turning the volume up. You could enjoy his company even with comfortable silence because he knew who he was and didn't brag about it. Y/N found this to be the most interesting quality in him. It’s not his charm or valour, it’s him.

Y/N was unpacking for the summer, when she got a call from Tom. “Hey Tom”, she was happy to hear his voice.

“A little birdie told me that you’re here”, he said.

“Huh?” she was confused.

“Greta, I mean I heard from Greta that you’re here, in London”

“Yeah, I got in few hours ago”

“Where are you staying?”

“I’m renting an apartment in Camden”

“Oh, I-um, I was wondering if you wanna grab a pint with me?” He took ages to finish the sentence and it took seconds for Y/N to agree.

“Yess! I mean, great, I’ll text you the address” it was hard for him to contain his excitement.

Tom reached the pub before Y/N. He was on his second pint when Y/N entered. He was sitting in a booth, going through his phone. Tom stood up when he saw her walking over towards him. “You look beautiful,” Tom said in amazement. When Y/N laughed at his words he realised he said it out loud.

“Thanks” she said with a smile. They both sat down a few inches away from each other.

“What do you wanna drink?”

Y/N’s phone was ringing, it was Haz.

“How about you get me a pint and I’ll take this call, what do you say?”

“Okay”, he said and got up.

Y/N went outside the pub to take the call. It was drizzling outside, wondering which version of Haz she was going to get, she lit a cigarette. Was it going to be the man she married or the man who was consumed by jealousy?

“Hey love”, a soft spoken Haz was met on the other side of the phone.

“Hi” she replied with politeness, taking a long drag.

“Did you reach London safely?” She could hear the genuine concern in his voice.

She blew out the smoke, “yeah, I ended up getting the Camden apartment.”

“That’s good, anyway, I called you because I wanted to let you know that I signed an ad campaign. They are filming it in London so I’ll be there for a few weeks in July. “

“That’s amazing Haz”, a group of women came out of the pub laughing loudly.

“Are you out somewhere?”

“Yeah I’m out for drinks”

“Oh okay, I’ll let you get back to it then” he hung up.

Y/N dropped her cigarette butt and stepped on it. She didn’t know how to feel about the interaction. She went back in, Tom was waiting for her with their glasses.

“Who was it?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“It was just Haz”

“How are things with Haz, if you don’t mind me asking?” Tom was aware of the turbulence in their relationship from on-set gossip.

“We’re-umm“, Y/N took some time to condense all of the things she felt about Haz into a simple sentence for him.

“We’re not that good”

Tom noticed her sad eyes.

“Well enough about me, what have you been up to? How’s your family?” She said with a burst of energy.

“Ah-hum”, he let out a little sigh.

“My life hasn’t really been that exciting since I came back from New York, one might even call it dry. It’s just work and pub. That’s it. But, my dad is working on a new book and my mum is trying to get my little brother into acting too”

“I wish I had a little brother”

“No you don’t, they’re like your personal monsters who you can’t hate because you are conditioned to love them”

She laughed, their eyes locked, filled with fondness for the other. She looked down at her empty glass, taking note of the sparks flying around them.

“Have you been to Ireland?” she asked in an attempt to neutralise the chemical reaction they both felt.

“Nope I haven’t, which is weird ‘cause it’s very close to England”

“I wanna go and just get drunk on Guinness there. It’s on my bucket list”

“Cute. You have a bucket list”

They were getting closer to each other with every word they spoke.

“Everyone has a bucket list. Maybe we should go to Ireland together”, Y/N suggested.

“Don’t. Don’t make empty promises”, they were both buzzed. He put his hand on her thigh, subconsciously.

“What if I’m not”, she said in an almost whisper. Y/N’s sight kept alternating from his eyes to his lips. They looked irresistible. They were inching in closer. Finally Tom filled the gap with his lips on Y/N’s.

A lyrical smile came on Tom's face. Y/N deepened into the kiss, her hand laced in his hair, pulled him closer to her. He broke away, “as much as I would like to continue this, I think we should follow the spark somewhere else”

Y/N looked around the swamp of half-drunk people and sighed.

“Fine, but I’ll drive”

Tom obliged and gave her his car keys.

—-

What Y/N had thought was as a onetime thing, became a pastime. Y/N decided to take the road less travelled by. The road of infidelity, which was covered with wild ivy. The ivy, named Tom, groped her further and further, with every step she took. She started to fall in love with him, with each clandestine meeting.

He would come over to her house, each night, with his hood over his head, making sure nobody saw him leave. They would try to find places, away from the prying eyes of people and hunters with smartphones. Every time, before Tom kissed her, he would say, “you know we can always stop” and every time she would think that she couldn’t because his magnetic field was drawing her in, deeper and deeper.

Tom was scared, not because of people finding out, but because he thought a day would come when Y/N would realise that this is all wrong and pull the plug. With her, he never thought that they were out of the woods, the thrill always lingered in the air. Sometimes he wondered if the drug of the thrill would stop working after the first few times.

They would stare at each other with longing, during interviews. What they thought were stolen glances, weren’t going unnoticed by the media. There were speculations around them. After every panel, a new rumour was born and each rumour caused a new fight between Y/N and Haz.

After every fight, Y/N would knock on Tom's garden gate, crying. Y/N had her guard up all the time. For the rest of the world, she was meticulous with every word she said but with Tom, it was no good.

Every step she took with Tom, she wondered if Haz knew. Did Haz know that he was right not to trust her? With every step Tom took with Y/N, he wondered if she knew how much in love with her he was. Did she know that he was ready to carve her name on his bedpost as the last one?

They both wondered if the other knew that they were ready to ruin themselves for each other a million little times.

@mysticapples17

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman #marvel fanfiction #marvel #harrison osterfeild x reader #harrison osterfield #taylor swift #tom holland fluff

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letterboxd · 3 years

Photo

Poker Face.

Tiffany Haddish tells Gemma Gracewood about taking a holiday from comedy in Paul Schrader’s The Card Counter, her hotel comfort viewing, and why Oscar Isaac thinks of her as Jesus.

“When I say yes to a movie, that’s a hundred to two hundred people that get to work and I want them to be happy about working.” —Tiffany Haddish

Comedians taking on dramatic roles is not an innovation in cinema, but it’s which comedian, in which role, that makes a casting choice a talking point. Melissa McCarthy in Can You Ever Forgive Me? Mo’Nique in Precious. Peter Sellers in Being There. Robin Williams in everything.

In The Card Counter, Paul Schrader’s meditative slow-burn on American shame, part of the tension as a viewer lies in what we already appreciate about Tiffany Haddish as a performer. She is an unbridled crack-up, a live wire on screen and off, a former foster kid committed to busting unsustainable Hollywood beauty myths by wearing the same dress throughout an awards season. Her physical comedy is electric, even when it’s a simple raise of an eyebrow.

The wildest thing about La Linda—a gamblers’ agent working the mid-level casino circuit, who spies, in Oscar Isaac’s William (Bill) Tell, a potential new thoroughbred for her stable of card counters—is the way her drinks order changes from hotel bar to hotel bar. “I came in there with my comedy ways and it sucked,” Haddish laughs, disarmingly honest about her leap from the hi-jinks her fans know her for, to her dramatic role in Schrader's new film. “Paul was hard on me at first,” she recalls. “He had to reel me in, make adjustments, strip all this stuff off, all my tools, leave me with these instruments I barely ever use.”

Oscar Isaac and Tiffany Haddish in a scene from ‘The Card Counter’.

There’s an enduring myth that drama is tougher to pull off than comedy, something Haddish’s friend Morris Chestnut corrected her on a few years back. “He’s like, ‘No, what you do, that’s hard work. You are actually overworking yourself, doing these comedies.’ And I’m like, ‘He don’t know what he’s talking about.’ Then I actually did a drama. And I was like, ‘Oh, that was so easy. Oh, that was beautiful.’ It’s way easier. It’s way easier.”

What La Linda doesn’t know, but any casual observer of Schrader’s work will, is that Isaac’s Bill has a past, and that his methodical attempts to keep his guilt in check through a supremely minimal lifestyle, perhaps even to allow himself a spark of pleasure—redemption, even—are about to come unwound.

Before that, though, there’s time for La Linda, Bill and Cirk (Tye Sheridan)—the son of one of Bill’s former, shall we say, colleagues—to become an odd little chosen-family unit as they travel the circuit. Bill and La Linda cook up a nice heat while killing time in cocktail lounges, and her casual business charisma is a charming offset to the deeper themes at play. Writing fresh from a Venice Film Festival viewing, Rahul notes “you keep expecting Haddish to break out of the understated style and that tension works.” Andy agrees: “Her simple outlook on life and lack of existentialism offer a nice contrast to Tell’s brooding sorrow. Plus, La Linda is just a great character name.”

Haddish understood the pull between Bill and La Linda, and La Linda’s desire to probe into his mysterious monotony, in a very specific way: “As a standup comedian, I work with a lot of men that—they’re very talented, they’re doing big things when they’re on stage—but then when they come off the stage you’re like, ‘Who are you? Why are you so dark? Who hurt you? What’s going on?’ I can relate to that in so many ways.”

Still, of all the dramatic writer-directors to work with in America, why Schrader? What was it about his specific brand of lonely-white-man stories that appealed? “Cat People. It’s my jam,” declares Haddish, of Schrader’s 1982 erotic horror reimagining of the 1942 classic (and one of his few films with a female lead, played by Natassja Kinski). “I love that movie. It had some weird, twisted shit in it.” She has been campaigning Schrader to mount a sequel, so that she can have a crack at playing a sexy, predatory jungle cat. “I try to bring it up to him all the time. And he’s like, ‘Tiffany, we’re not doing it. No.’”

Natassja Kinski in Paul Schrader’s 1982 remake of ‘Cat People’.

Haddish imagines that Cat People would certainly be on La Linda’s list of hotel-room comfort watches, along with Shaft and Goodfellas. Haddish, on the other hand, prefers to kick back with series television when she is on the road. “I watch old sitcoms like Martin or, like, The Facts of Life. I love a good cartoon, especially the throwback ones on Boomerang. I really like the old school, like ThunderCats. That’s a good wind down for me.”

Filming days are long, making the minutes can be stressful, and Covid safety protocols add layers of complexity to the job. There are performers who are cast not only for what they bring to their roles, but also for the energy they bring to set. Haddish has an undeniable magnetism, so it is unsurprising to read her co-star Isaac, in The Card Counter’s production notes, describe her as being “like Jesus”, in that people would drop everything and follow her. She enjoys this comparison, revealing that she has always wanted to be an AD, the crew member with, traditionally, the greatest people skills. “I always wanted to be assistant director just so I can be like, ‘All right, picture’s up, guys.’ And just so I can know everybody and be cool with everybody.”

But as a performer with clout, what is her intention when she—Tiffany Haddish, famous actress™—walks onto a soundstage? Haddish’s answer is a generous primer on how to be a good sort on set (or, indeed, in any working environment). “When I say yes to a movie, that’s a hundred to two hundred people that get to work and I want them to be happy about working,” she explains. “I’m going to work with them again in something else, and I want to have a pleasant experience with the crew. The DP, the gaffers, all these people, we all work together as a unit, so I think it’s super important.”

Paul Schrader, Oscar Isaac and crew on the set of ‘The Card Counter’.

Certain crew members, she admits, “are imperative to making me look good”, but more than that, her approach is grounded in her own physical and emotional safety in an often volatile and unpredictable creative environment. “I see how some actors won’t talk to any crew members at all, and I feel like that’s not okay because these people are busting their ass to make you look great, and they are part of telling this story too. They might not be hanging off the side of the building like you are, but they are making sure that the camera’s operating correctly, so you don’t have to shoot it five hundred times.

“These people keep me alive. They keep me going and they can tell when I’m in a bad space. They’re like, ‘Here’s a Snickers.’ If I’m working with an actor who might be treating me not the best, they’re coming over, they’re giving encouraging words, ‘You’re going to be okay.’ We’re a team. I even talk to the editor. They’re like, ‘Picture’s up, sound’s rolling, and speed.’ And I’d be like [staring down the camera lens], ‘What’s up editor? Hey, it’s your girl Tiffany Haddish. Just a little note: I’m thinking about you. Now, if you could just make sure this lazy eye is this way… I know you’re in that room by yourself, but look out for your girl.” Sometimes, Haddish will even throw a bone to the studio executives. “I know they’re watching the dailies,” she laughs.

Her investment in the welfare of her film families is paying off in unexpected turns such as The Card Counter, with more to come. Up next, a trio of unusual comedies: Jerrod Carmichael’s existential buddy farce On the Count of Three, which was picked up by Annapurna out of Sundance this year; Cory Finley’s surrealistic sci-fi romp Landscape with Invisible Hand; and the intriguing Nicolas Cage vehicle, The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent.

Related content

A list of favorite gambling movies from Gamblers, a podcast from The Big Picture’s Sean and Amanda

Life Detained: Jack Moulton’s interview with Kevin Macdonald, director of The Mauritanian

Josh’s list of Neo-Noir films

Follow Gemma on Letterboxd

‘The Card Counter’ is in US cinemas now.

#the card counter #paul schrader #tiffany haddish #cat people #oscar isaac #tye sheridan #gambling movies #neo noir #girls trip #actress #Black actress #letterboxd #gemma gracewood #morris chestnut #filmmaking tips #goodfellas

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xsssbgn · 8 months

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A Supreme Being

By Anne-Marie O'Neil

Published on November 15, 1999 12:00PM EST

Time has not diminished his charms. “He listens to you,” says Laura Linney, his costar in 1996’s Primal Fear. “Right off, he is interested in who you are and how you got there.”

Anne-Marie O’Neill Sue Miller in New York City and Pamela Warrick in Los Angeles

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crowdvscritic · 3 years

Text

round up // JULY 21

‘Tis the season to beat the heat at the always-cold theatres and next to fans set at turbo speed. While my movie watching slowed a bit with the launch of the Summer Olympics on July 23rd, I’ve still got plenty of popcorn-ready and artsy recommendations for you. A few themes in the new-to-me pop culture I’m recommending this month:

Casts oozing with embarrassing levels of talent (sometimes overqualified for the movies they’re in)

Pop culture that is responding or reinterpreting past pop culture

Stories that get weEeEeird

Keep on-a-scrollin’ to see which is which!

July Crowd-Pleasers

1. Double Feature – ‘90s Rom-Coms feat. Lots of Lies: Mystery Date (1991) + The Pallbearer (1996)

In Mystery Date (Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 6/10), Ethan Hawke and Teri Polo get set up on a blind date that gets so bizarre and crime-y I’m not sure how this didn’t come out in the ‘80s. In The Pallbearer (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10), David Schwimmer and Gwyneth Paltrow try to combine The Graduate with Four Weddings and a Funeral in a story about lost twentysomethings. If you don’t like rom-coms in which circumstances depend on lots of lies and misunderstandings, these won’t be your jam, but if you’re like me and don’t mind these somewhat-cliché devices, you’ll be hooked by likeable casts and plenty of rom and com.

2. The Tomorrow War (2021)

I thought of no fewer movies than this list while watching: Alien, Aliens, Angel Has Fallen, Cloverfield, Interstellar, Kong: Skull Island, Prometheus, A Quiet Place: Part II, Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars: The Revenge of the Sith, The Silence of the Lambs, The Terminator, Terminator 2: Judgment Day, and World War Z. And you know what? I like all those movies! (Okay, maybe I just have a healthy respect/fear of The Silence of the Lambs.) The Tomorrow War may not be original, but it borrows some of the best tropes and beats from the sci-fi and action genres, so much so I wish I could’ve seen Chris Pratt and Co. fight those gross monsters on a big screen. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 6/10

3. Dream a Little Dream (1989)

My July pick for the Dumb Rom-Com I Nevertheless Enjoyed! I CANNOT explain the mechanics of this body switch comedy to you—nor can the back of the DVD case above—but, boy, what an ‘80s MOOD. I did not know I needed to see a choreographed dance routine starring Jason Robards and Corey Feldman, but I DID. All I know is some movies are made for me and that I’m now a card-carrying member of the Two Coreys fan club. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 6.5/10

4. Black Widow (2021)

The braids! The Pugh! Black Widow worked for me both as an exciting action adventure and as a respite from the Marvel adventures dependent on a long memory of the franchise. (Well, mostly—keep reading for a second MCU rec much more dependent on the gobs of previous releases.) Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

5. Liar Liar (1997)

Guys, Jim Carrey is hilarious. That’s it—that’s the review. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10

youtube

6. Sob Rock by John Mayer (2021)

It’s very possible I’ve already listened to this record more than all other John Mayer records. It doesn’t surpass the capital-G Greatness of Continuum, but it’s a little bit of old school Mayer, a little bit ‘80s soft rock/pop, and I’ve had it on repeat most of the two weeks since it’s been out. Featuring the boppiest bop that ever bopped, at least one lyrical gem in every track, and an ad campaign focused on Walkmans, this record skirts the line between Crowd faves and Critic-worthy musicianship.

7. Double Feature – ‘00s Ben Affleck Political Thrillers: The Sum of All Fears (2002) + State of Play (2009)

In The Sum of All Fears (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), Ben Affleck is Jack Ryan caught up in yet another international incident. In State of Play (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10), he’s a hotshot Congressman caught up in a scandal. Both are full of plot twists and unexpected turns, and in both, Affleck is accompanied by actors you’re always happy to see, like Jason Bateman, James Cromwell, Russell Crowe, Jeff Daniels, Viola Davis, Morgan Freeman, Philip Baker Hall, David Harbour, Rachel McAdams, Helen Mirren, Liev Schreiber, and Robin Wright—yes, I swear all of those people are in just those two movies.

8. Loki (2021-)

Unlike Black Widow, you can’t go into Loki with no MCU experience. The show finds clever ways to nudge us with reminders (and did better at it than Falcon and the Winter Soldier), but be forewarned that at some point, you’re just going to have to let go and accept wherever this timeline-hopper is taking you. An ever-charismatic cast keeps us grounded (Owen Wilson, Jonathan Majors, and an alligator almost steal the show from Tom Hiddleston in some eps), but while Falcon lasted an episode or two too long, Loki could’ve used a few more to flesh out its complicated plot and develop its characters. Thankfully, the jokes matter almost as much as the sci-fi, so you can still have fun even if you have no idea what’s going on.

9. Double Feature – Bruce Willis: Die Hard With a Vengeance (1995) + The Whole Nine Yards (2000)

Before Bruce Willis began starring in many random direct-to-DVD movies I only ever hear about in my Redbox emails, he was a Movie Star smirking his way up the box office charts. In the third Die Hard (Crowd: 10/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), he teams up with Samuel L. Jackson to decipher the riddles of a terrorist madman (Jeremy Irons), and it’s a thrill ride. In The Whole Nine Yards (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10), he’s hitman that screws up dentist Matthew Perry’s boring life in Canada, and—aside from one frustrating scene of let’s-objectify-women-style nudity—it’s hilarious.

10. This Is the End (2013)

On paper, this is not a movie for me. An irreverent stoner comedy about a bunch of bros partying it up before the end of the world? None of things are for Taylors. But with a little help of a TV edit to pare down the raunchy and crude bits, I laughed my way through and spent the next several days thinking through its exploration of what makes a good person. While little of the plot is accurate to Christian Gospel and theology, some of its big ideas are consistent enough with the themes of the book of Revelation I found myself thinking about it again in church this morning. (Would love to know if Seth Rogen ever expected that.) Plus, I love a good self-aware celebrity spoof—can’t tell you how many times I’ve just laughed remembering the line, “It’s me, Jonah Hill, from Moneyball”—and an homage to horror classics. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10

July Critic Picks

1. Summer of Soul (…or, When the Television Could Not Be Televised) (2021)

Even director Questlove didn’t know about the Harlem Cultural Festival, but now he’s compiled the footage so we can all enjoy one of the coolest music fest lineups ever, including The 5th Dimension, B.B. King, Gladys Knight and the Pips, Nina Simone, Sly and the Family Stone, and Stevie Wonder, who made my friend’s baby dance more than once in the womb. See it on the big screen for top-notch audio. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

2. Good Morning, Vietnam (1987)

Robin Williams takes on the bureaucracy, disillusionment, and malaise of the Vietnam War with comedy. Williams was a one-of-a-kind talent, and here it’s on display at a level on par with Aladdin. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

3. Against the Rules Season 2 (2020-21)

Michael Lewis (author of Moneyball, adapted into a film starring Jonah Hill), is interested in how we talk about fairness. This season he looks at how coaches impact fairness in areas like college admissions, credit cards, and youth sports.

4. Bugsy Malone (1976)

A gangster musical starring only children? It’s a little like someone just picked ideas out of a hat, but somehow it works. You can hear why in the Bugsy Malone episode Kyla and I released this month on SO IT’S A SHOW?, plus how this weird artifact of a film connects with Gilmore Girls.

5. The Queen (2006)

Before The Crown, Peter Morgan wrote The Queen, focusing on Queen Elizabeth II (Helen Mirren) in the days following the death of Princess Diana. It’s a complex and compassionate drama, both for the Queen and for Prime Minister Tony Blair (Michael Sheen, who has snuck up on me to become a favorite character actor). Maybe I’ve got a problem, but I’ll never tire of the analysis of this famous family. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9.5/10

6. The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean (1972)

This month at ZekeFilm, we took a closer look at Revisionist Westerns we’ve missed. I fell hard for Roy Bean, and I think you will, too, if for no other reason than you might like a story starring Jacqueline Bisset, Ava Gardner, John Huston, Paul Newman, and Anthony Perkins. Oh, and a bear! Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 10/10

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7. New Trailer Round Up

Naked Singularity (Aug. 6) – John Boyega in a crime thriller!

Queenpins (Aug. 10) – A crime comedy about extreme coupon-ing!

Dune (Oct. 1) – I’ve been cooler on the anticipation for this film, but this new look has me cautiously intrigued thanks to the Bardem + Bautista + Brolin + Chalamet + Ferguson + Isaac + Momoa + Zendaya of it all.

The Last Duel (Oct. 15) – Affleck! Damon! Driver!

Ghostbusters: Afterlife (Nov. 11) - I’m not sure why we need this, but I’m down for the Paul Rudd + Finn Wolfhard combo

King Richard (Nov. 19) - Will Smith as Venus and Serena’s father!

Encanto (Nov. 24) – Disney and Lin-Manuel Miranda making more magic together!

House of Gucci (Nov. 24) - Gaga! Pacino! Driver!

Also in July…

Kyla and I took a look at the classic supernatural soap Dark Shadows and why Sookie might be obsessed with it on Gilmore Girls.

I revisited a so-bad-it’s-good masterpiece that’s a surrealist dream even Fellini couldn’t have cooked up. Yes, for ZekeFilm I wrote about the Vanilla Ice movie, Cool as Ice, which is now a part of my Blu-ray collection.

Photo credits: Against the Rules. All others IMDb.com.

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blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years

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Anonymous asked: I really enjoyed your book review of Sebastian Junger’s Homecoming. Perhaps enjoyment isn’t the right word because it brought home some hard truths. Your book review really helped me understand my older brother better when I think back on how he came home from the war in Afghanistan after serving with the Paras and had medals pinned up the yin yang. It was hard on everyone in the family, especially for him and his wife and young kids. He has found it hard going. Thanks for sharing your own thoughts as a combat veteran from that war. Even if you’re a toff you don’t come across as a typical Oxbridge poncey Rupert! As you’re a classicist and historian how did ancient soldiers deal with PTSD? Did the Greeks and Roman soldiers even suffer from it like our fighting boys and girls do? Is PTSD just a modern thing?

Part 1 of 2 (see following post)

Because this is subject very close to my heart as a combat veteran I thought very long and hard about the issues you raised. I decided to answer this question in two posts.

This is Part 1 and Part 2 is the next post.

My apologies for the length but this is subject that deserves full careful consideration.

Thank you for your lovely words and I especially find its heart warming if they touched you. I appreciate you for sharing something of the experience your ex-Para brother went through in coming home from war. I have every respect for the Parachute regiment as one of the world’s premier fighting force.

Working alongside them on missions out in Afghanistan I could see their reputation as the ‘brain shit’ of the British Army was well deserved. They’re most uncouth, sweary, and smelliest group of yobbos I’ve ever had the awful misfortune to meet. I’m kidding. The mutual respect and the ribbing went hand in hand. I doff my smurf hat to the cherry berries as ‘propah soldiers’ as they liked to say especially when they cast a glance over at the other elite regiments like HCav and the guards regiments.

Don’t worry I’ve been called a lot worse! But I am grateful you don’t lump me with the other ‘poncey’ officers. Not sure what a female Rupert is called. The fact that I was never accused of being one by any of those I served with is perhaps something I take some measure of pride. There are not as many real toff officers these days compared to the past but there are a fair few Ruperts who are clueless in leading men under their charge. I knew one or two and frankly I’m embarrassed for them and the men under their charge.

I don’t know when the term PTSD was first used in any official way. My older sister who is a doctor - specialising in neurology and all round brain box and is currently working on the front lines in the NHS wards fighting Covid alongside all our amazing NHS nurses and doctors - took time out one evening to have a discussion with me about these issues. I also talked to one or two other friends in the psychiatric field too. In consensus they agree it was around 1980 when the term PTSD came into usage. Specifically it was the third edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-lll) published by the American Psychiatric Association in 1980 partly because as a result of the ongoing treatment of veterans from the Vietnam War. In the modern mind, PTSD is more associated with the legacy of the Vietnam War disaster.

The importance of whether PTSD affected the ancient Greeks and Romans lies in the larger historical question of to what extent we can apply modern experience to unlock or interpret the past. In the period since PTSD was officially recognised, scholars and psychologists have noted its symptoms in descriptions of the veterans of past conflicts. It has become increasingly common in books and novels as well as articles to assume the direct relevance of present-day psychology to the reactions of those who experienced violent events in the historical past. In popular culture, especially television and film dramas, claims for the historical pedigree of PTSD are now often provided as background to the modern story, without attribution. Indeed we just take it as a given that soldier-warriors in the past suffered the same and in the same way as their modern day counterparts. We are used to the West to map the classical world upon the present but whether we can so easily map the modern world back upon the Greeks and Romans is a doubtful proposition when it comes to discussing PTSD.

Simply put, there is no definitive evidence for the existence of PTSD in the ancient world existed, and relies instead upon the assumption that either the Greeks or Romans, because they were exposed to combat so often, must have suffered psychological trauma.

There are two schools of thought regarding the possibility of PTSD featuring in the Greco-Roman world (and indeed the wider ancient world stretching back into pre-history, myth and legend) – universalism and relativism. Put simply, the universalists argue that we all carry the same ‘wetware’ in our heads, since the human brain probably hasn’t developed in evolutionary terms in the eye blink that is the two thousand years or so since the Greco-Roman Classical era. If we’re subject to PTSD now, they posit, then the Greeks and the Romans must have been equally vulnerable. The relativists, on the other hand, argue that the circumstances under which the individual has received their life conditioning – the experiences which programme the highly individual software running that identical ‘wetware’, if you will – is of critical importance to an individual’s capacity to absorb the undoubted horrors of any battlefield, ancient or modern.

Whichever school one falls down on the side of is that what seems to happen in any serious discussion of the issue of PTSD in the ancient world is to either infer it indirectly from culture (primarily, literature and poetry) or infer it from a comparative historical understanding of ancient warfare. Because the direct evidence is so scant we can only ever infer or deduce but can never be certain. So we can read into it whenever we wish.

In Greek antiquity we have of course The Illiad and the Odyssey as one of the most cited examples when we look at the character traits of both Achilles and Odysseus. From Greek tragedy those who think PTSD can be inferred often point to Sophocles’s Ajax and Euripide’s Heracles. Or they look to Aeschylus and The Oresteia. I personally think this is an over stretch. Greek writers do; the return from war was a revisited theme in tragedy and is the subject of the Odyssey and the Cyclic Nostoi.

The Greeks didn’t leave us much to ponder further. But, with rare exceptions, the works from Graeco-Roman antiquity do not discuss the mental state of those who had fought. There is silence about the interior world of the fighting man at war’s end. So we are led to ponder the question why the silence?

This silence also echoes into the Roman period of literature and history too. Indeed when we turn to the Roman world, descriptions of veterans are rare in the writings that survive from the Roman world and occur most often in fiction.

In the first poem of Ovid’s Heroides, the poet writes about a returned soldier tracing a map upon a table (Ov. Her. 1.31–5):

...upon the tabletop that has been set someone shows the fierce battles, and paints all Troy with a slender line of pure wine: ‘Here the Simois flowed; this is the Sigeian territory, here stood the lofty palace of old Priam, there the tent of Achilles...’

This scene provides an intimate glimpse of what it must have been like when a veteran returned home and told stories of his campaigns: the memories of battle brought to the meal, the crimson trail of the wine offering a rough outline of the places and battlefields he had experienced. The military characters in poems and plays show a world in which soldiers are ubiquitous, if somewhat annoying to the civilians. Plautus, for instance, in his Miles Gloriosus, portrays an officer boasting about his made-up conquests – the model for the braggart in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum – and Juvenal complains about a centurion who stomps on his sandalled foot in the bustling Roman street.

Despite this silence, compelling works have been written that interweave vivid modern accounts of combat and its aftermath with quotes from ancient prose and poetry. At their best, these comparisons can illuminate both worlds, but at other times the concerns of the present-day author are imposed on the ancient material. But the question remains are such approaches truthful and valid in understanding PTSD in the ancient world?

So if arts and literature don’t really tell us much what about comparative examples drawn from military history itself?

Here again we are in left disappointed.

According to the Greek historian, Herodotus, in 480 B.C., at the Battle of Thermopylae, where King Leonidas and 300 Spartans took on Xerxes I and 100,000-150,000 Persian troops, two of the Spartan soldiers, Aristodemos and another named Eurytos, reported that they were suffering from an “acute inflammation of the eyes,”...Labeled tresantes, meaning “trembler,”. It is that Aristodemos later hung himself in shame. Another Spartan commander was forced to dismiss several of his troops in the Battle of Thermopylae Pass in 480 B.C, “They had no heart for the fight and were unwilling to take their share of the danger.”

Herodotus again in writing about the battle of Marathon in 490 B.C., cites an Athenian warrior who went permanently blind when the soldier standing next to him was killed, although the blinded soldier “was wounded in no part of his body.” Interestingly enough, blindness, deafness, and paralysis, among other conditions, are common forms of “conversion reactions” experienced and well-documented among soldiers today

Outside the fictional world, Roman military history tell us very little.

Appian of Alexandria (c. 95? – c. AD 165) described a legion veteran called Cestius Macedonicus who, when his town was under threat of capture by (the Emperor-to-be) Octavian, set fire to his house and burned himself within it. Plutarch’s Life of Marius speaks of Caius Marius’ behaviour who, when he found himself under severe stress towards the end of his life, suffering from night terrors, harassing dreams, excessive drinking and flashbacks to previous battles. These examples are just a few instances which seem to demonstrate that PTSD, or culturally similar phenomena, may be as old as warfare itself. But it’s worth stressing it is not definitive, just conjecture.

Of course of accounts of wars and battles were copiously written but not the hard bloody experience of the soldier. Indeed the Roman military man is described almost exclusively as a commander or in battle. Men such as Caesar who experienced war and wrote about it do not to tell us about homecoming.

It seems one of main challenges when we try to see military history through the lens of our definition of PTSD is to first understand the comparative nature of military history and what it is we are comparing ie mistaking apples for oranges.

The origin of military history was tied to the idea that if one understood ancient battle, one might fight and, more importantly, one might lead and strategise more effectively. In essence, much of the training of officers – even in the military handbooks of the Greeks and Romans – was an attempt to keep new commanders from making the same mistakes as the commanders of old. Military history is intended to be a pragmatic enterprise; in pursuit of this pragmatic goal, it has long been the norm to use comparative materials to understand the nature of ancient battle.

The 19th Century French military theorist Ardant du Picq argued for the continuity of human behaviour and assumed that the reactions of men under the threat of lethal force would be identical over the centuries: “Man does not enter battle to fight, but for victory. He does everything that he can to avoid the first and obtain the second....Now, man has a horror of death. In the bravest, a great sense of duty, which they alone are capable of understanding and living up to, is paramount. But the mass always cowers at sight of the phantom, death. Discipline is for the purpose of dominating that horror by a still greater horror, that of punishment or disgrace. But there always comes an instant when natural horror gets an upper hand over discipline, and the fighter flees”

These words offer insight to those of us who have never faced the terror of battle but at the same time assume the universality of how combat is experienced, despite changes in psychological expectations and weaponry, to name but two variables.

Another incentive for scholars and researchers is to turn to comparative material has been the growing awareness of the artificiality of how we describe war. A mere phrase such as ‘flank attack’ does not capture the bloody, grinding human struggle. Roman authors – especially those who had not fought – often wrote generic descriptions of battle. Literary battle can distort and simplify even as it tells, but if the main things are right – who won, who lost, and who the good guys are – the important ‘facts’ are covered. Even if one intends to speak the truth about battle, the assumptions and the normative language used to describe violence will affect the telling. We may note that the battle accounts in poetry become increasingly grisly during the course of the Roman Empire (perhaps owing to the growing popularity of gladiatorial games),while, in Caesar’s Gallic War, the Latin word cruor (blood) never appears and sanguis (another Latin word for blood) only appears in quoted appeals (Caes. B. Gall. 7.20, in the mouth of Vercingetorix, and 7.50, where the centurion M. Petronius urges his men to retreat). The realities of the battlefield are described in anodyne shorthand. In much the same way that the news rarely prints or televises graphic images, Caesar does not use gore, and perhaps for the same reason – to give a sense of reportorial objectivity.

Another element in the interpretive scrum is a given author’s goal in writing an account in the first place: Caesar, for example, was writing about himself, and he may have been producing something akin to a political campaign ad. Caesar makes Caesar look great and there is reason to believe that, if he was not precisely cooking the books, he did give them a little rinse to make him look more pristine. Given the many factors that complicate our ability to ‘unpack’ battle narratives, Philip Sabin has argued that the ambiguity and unreliability of the ancient sources must be supplemented by looking at the “form of the overall characteristics of Roman infantry in mortal combat”. Again the modern is used to illuminate that which is obscured by written accounts and the “the enduring psychological strains” are merely unconsciously assumed.

These legitimate uses of comparative materials have led to a sort of creep: because military historians have used observations of how men react to combat stress during battle to indicate continuity of behaviour through time, there appears to be a consequent expectation that men will also react identically after battle. This creep became a lusty stride with modern books written about the ancient world and PTSD.

After I finished my tour in Afghanistan I read many books recommended to me by family and friends as well as comrades. One of these books is well known in military circles - at least amongst the thinking officer class - as an iconic work of marrying the ancient world and the modern experience of war. I read it and I was touched deeply by this brilliant therapeutic book. It was only months later I began to re-think whether it was a true account of PTSD in the ancient world.

This insightful book is called Achilles in Vietnam by Jonathan Shay. Shay is psychiatrist in Boston, USA. He began reading The Iliad with Vietnam veterans whom he was treating. Achilles in Vietnam, is a deeply humane work and is very much concerned with promoting policies that he hoped would help diminish the frequency of post-traumatic stress. His goal was not to explain ancient poetry but to use it therapeutically by linking his patients’ pain to that of the Iliad’s great hero. His book offers a conduit between the reader and the experiences of the men that Shay counsels. In the introduction to this work he makes a nod to Homerists while also asserting the primacy of his own reading:

“I shall present the Iliad as the tragedy of Achilles. I will not glorify Vietnam combat veterans by linking them to a prestigious ‘classic’ nor attempt to justify study of the Iliad by making it sexy, exciting, modern or ‘relevant’. I respect the work of classical scholars and could not have done my work without them. Homer’s poem does not mean whatever I want it to mean. However, having honored the boundaries of meaning that scholars have pointed out, I can confidently tell you that my reading of the Iliad as an account of men in war is not a ‘meditation’ that is only tenuously rooted in the text. “

After outlining the major plot points around which he will organise his argument, he notes, “ ‘This is the story of Achilles in the Iliad, not some metaphorical translation of it”.

The trouble was and continues to be is that many in the historical and medical fields began to rush to unfounded conclusions that Shay, on the issue of PTSD in the ancient world, had demonstrated that the psychological realities of western warfare were universal and enduring. More books on similar comparative themes soon emerged and began to enshrine the truth that PTSD was indeed prevalent throughout the ancient world and one could draw comparative lessons from it.

Perhaps one of the most influential books after Shay was by Lawrence Tritle. Tritle, a veteran himself, wrote From Melos to My Lai. It’s a fascinating book to read and there are parts that certainly resonate with my own experiences and those of others I have known. In the book Tritle drew a direct parallel between the experiences of the ancient Greeks and those of modern veterans. For instance, Xenophon, in his military autobiography, presents a brief eulogy for one of his fallen commanders, Clearchus. Xenophon writes that Clearchus was ‘polemikos kai philopolemos eschatos’ (Xen. An. 2.6) – ‘warlike and a lover of war to the highest degree’.

Tritle comments:

“The question that arises is why men like Clearchus and his counterparts in Vietnam and the Western Front became so entranced with violence. The answer is to be found in the natural ‘high’ that violence induces in those exposed to it, and in the PTSD that follows this exposure. Such a modern interpretation in Clearchus’ case might seem forced, but there seems little reason to doubt that Xenophon in fact provides us with the first known historical case of PTSD in the western literary tradition.”

Arguably in the West and especially our current modern Western culture is predicated at baulking at the notion of being ‘war lovers” as immoral. But such an interpretation speaks more of our modern Christianised ambivalence towards war; to the Spartans and Athenians the term would not have had a negative connotation. ‘Philopolemos’ is, in fact, a compliment, and the list of Clearchus’ military exploits functions as a eulogy. There are points where his analysis does not adequately address the divergences between ancient and modern experiences.

For all the talk of our Western culture being rooted in Ancient Greece and Rome we are not shaped by the same ethics. Our modern ethics and our moral code is Christian. There is no such thing as a secular humanist or atheist both owe a debt to Christianity for the way they have come to be; in many respects it’s more accurate to describe such people as Christianised Humanists or Christian Atheists even if they reject the theological tenets of the religious faith because they use Christian morality as the foundation to construct their own. Many forget just how brutal these ancient societies were in every day life to the point there would be little one could find recognisable within our own modern lives.

Now we come to third point I wish to make in determining where the Greeks or Romans actually experienced PTSD. This is to do with the little understood nature of PTSD itself. As much as we know about PTSD there is still much more we don’t know. Indeed one of the most problematic and complicated issues is the continued disagreement around the diagnosis and specific triggers of the disorder which remain little understood. We have to admit there are competing theories about what causes PTSD but, in terms of experiences that make it manifest, there are essentially three possible triggers: witnessing horrific events and/or being in mortal danger and/or the act of killing – especially close kills where the reality of one’s responsibility cannot be doubted. The last of these was strongly argued in another scholarly book by D. Grossman, On Killing, the Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society (1995).

Roman soldiers had the potential to experience all of these things. The majority of Roman combat was close combat and permitted no doubt as to the killer. The comparatively short length of the gladius encouraged aggressive fighting. Caesar recounts how his men, facing a shield wall carried by the taller Gauls, leaped up on top of the shields, grabbed the upper edges with one hand, and stabbed downwards into the faces of their opponents (Caes. B. Gall. 1.52). As for mortal danger, Stefan Chrissanthos in his informative book, Warfare in the Ancient World: From the Rise of Uruk to the Fall of Rome, 3500BC-476AD, puts it this way: “For Roman soldiers, though the weapons were more primitive, the terrors and risks of combat were just as real. They had to face javelins, stones, spears, arrows, swords, cavalry charges, and maybe worst of all, the threat of being trampled by war elephants.”

Such terrors are regularly attested. During his campaign in North Africa, Caesar, noting his men’s fear, procured a number of elephants to familiarise his troops with how best to kill the beasts (Caes. B. Afr.72). It should also be noted that it was not unusual for the reserve line to be made up of veterans because they were better able to watch the combat without losing their nerve. Held in reserve, they had to watch stoically as their comrades were injured and killed, and contemplate the awful fact that they might suffer the same fate. This was not a role for the faint of heart.

However, while the Romans certainly had the raw ingredients for combat trauma, the danger for a Roman legionary was much more localised. Mortars could not be lobbed into the Green Zone, suicide bombers did not walk into the market, and garbage piled on the street did not hide powerful explosives. The danger for a Roman soldier was largely circumscribed by his moments on the field of battle, and even here, if he was with the victorious side, the casualties were likely to be light: at Gergovia, a disaster by Caesar’s standards, he lost nearly seven hundred men (Caes. B. Gall. 7.51). In his victory over Pompey the Great at Pharsalus, his casualties numbered only two hundred (Caes. B. Civ. 3.99).

So we are left with the disturbing question: were the stressors really the same?

This is the part where I also defer to my eldest sister as a doctor and surgeon specialising in neurology and just so much smarter than myself.

My eldest sister holds the view in talking to her own American medical peers that despite similar experiences in Afghanistan and Iraq, British soldiers on average report better mental health than US soldiers.

My sister pointed out to research study done by Kings College London way back around 2015 or so that analysed 34 studies produced over a 15-year period (up to 2015) and found that overall there has been no increase in mental health issues among British personnel - with the exception of high rates of alcohol abuse among soldiers. The study was in part inspired the “significant mental health morbidity” among U.S. soldiers and reports that factors such as age and the quality of mental health programs contribute to the difference between the two nation’s servicemen and women.

She pointed out that these same studies showed that post-traumatic stress disorder afflicts roughly 2 to 5% of non-combat U.K. soldiers returning from deployment, while 7% of combat troops report PTSD. According to a General Health Questionnaire, an estimated 16 to 20% of U.K. soldiers have reported symptoms of common mental disorders, similar to the rates of the general U.K. population. In comparison, studies around the same time in 2014 showed U.S. soldiers experience PTSD at rates of 21 to 29%. The U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs estimated PTSD afflicted 11% of veterans returning from Afghanistan and 20% returning from Iraq. Major depression was reported by 14% of major soldiers according to another study commissioned by RAND corporation; roughly 7% of the general U.S. population reports similar symptoms.

It’s always tough comparing rates between countries and is not a reflection of the quality of the fighting soldier. But one finding that consistently and stubbornly refuses to go away is that over the past 20 years reported mental health problems tend to be higher among service personnel and veterans of the USA compared with the UK, Canada, Germany and Denmark.

However my sister strongly cautioned against making hasty judgements. And there could be many variable factors at play. One explanation is that American soldiers are more likely than their British counterparts to be from the reserve forces. Empirical studies showed reservists from both America and British troops were more likely to experience mental illness post-deployment. It was also worth pointing out that American soldiers also tended to be younger - being younger and inexperienced as well as untested on the battlefield, service personnel would naturally run the risk of greater and be more vulnerable to mental illness.

In contrast, the elite forces of the British army, such as your brother’s Parachute Regiment or the Royal Marines, were found to be the least affected by mental illness. It was found that in spite of elite forces experiencing some of the toughest fighting conditions, they tended to enjoy better mental health than non-elite troops. The more elite a unit is or more professional then you find that troops tend to enjoy a very deep bonds of camaraderie. As such the social cohesion of these fighting forces provides a psychological protective buffer. Not for all, but for many.

More intriguing are new avenues of discovery that might go a long way to actually understanding one of the root causes of PTSD. According to my sister, recent research carried out in the US and Europe and published in such prestigious medical journals as the New England Journal of Medicine (US) and the Lancet (UK), seems to establish a causal link between concussive injury and PTSD.

One recent study looked at US soldiers that concerned itself with the effects of concussive injuries upon troops after their return from active duty during the war in Iraq.

Of the majority of soldiers who suffered no combat injuries of any sort, 9.1 per cent exhibited symptoms consistent with PTSD. This allows a baseline for susceptibility of roughly 10% of the population. A slightly higher number (16.2%) of those who were injured in some way, but suffered no concussion, also experienced symptoms. As soon as concussive injuries were involved, however, the rates of PTSD climbed dramatically.

Although only 4.9% of the troops suffered concussions that resulted in complete loss of consciousness, 43.9% of these soldiers noted on their questionnaires that they were experiencing a range of PTSD symptoms. Of the 10.3% of the unit who suffered concussion resulting in confusion but retained consciousness, more than a quarter (27.3%) suffered symptoms. This suggests a high correlation between head trauma and the occurrence of subsequent psychological problems. The authors of the study note that ‘concern has been emerging about the possible long term effect of mild traumatic brain injury or concussion...as a result of deployment related head injuries, particularly those resulting from proximity to blast explosions’

Although these results are preliminary, if confirmed they have profound implications for anyone trying to understand the nature of warfare in the ancient world, especially the Western world.

So why does it matter?

In Roman warfare, wounds were most often inflicted by edged weapons. Romans did of course experience head trauma, but the incidence of concussive injuries would have been limited both by the types of weapons they faced and by the use of helmets. Indeed the efficacy and importance of headgear for example can be deduced from the death of the Epirrote general Pyrrhus from a roof tile during the sack of Argos. It is likely that the Romans designed their helmets with an eye to blunting the force of the blows they most often encountered. Connolly has argued that helmet design in the Republican period suggests a crouching fighting stance (see P. Connolly, ‘The Roman Fighting Technique Deduced from Armour and Weaponry’, Roman Frontier Studies (1989). However my own view is that the change in helmet design may signal instead a shift in the role of troops from performing assaults on towns and fortifications when the empire was expanding (and the blows would more often rain from above) to the defence and guarding of the frontiers.

While the evidence is clear that concussion is not the only risk factor for PTSD, it is so strongly correlated that it suggests that the incidence of PTSD may have risen sharply with the arrival of modern warfare and the technology of gunpowder, shells, and plastic explosives. Indeed, accounts of shell shock from the First World War are common, and it was in the wake of that war that those observing veterans suspected that neurological damage was being caused by exploding shells.

For soldiers of the Second World War and down to our modern day, an artillery barrage is like an invention of hell.

As one American put it in his memoirs of fighting the Japanese at Peleiu and Okinawa, “I developed a passionate hatred for shells. To be killed by a bullet seemed so clean and surgical but shells would not only tear and rip the body, they tortured one’s mind almost beyond the brink of sanity. After each shell I was wrung out, limp and exhausted. During prolonged shelling, I often had to restrain myself and fight back a wild inexorable urge to scream, to sob, and to cry. As Peleliu dragged on, I feared that if I ever lost control of myself under shell fire my mind would be shattered. To be under heavy shell fire was to me by far the most terrifying of combat experiences. Each time it left me feeling more forlorn and helpless, more fatalistic, and with less confidence that I could escape the dreadful law of averages that inexorably reduced our numbers. Fear is many-faceted and has many subtle nuances, but the terror and desperation endured under heavy shelling are by far the most unbearable” (see E.B. Sledge, With the Old Breed at Peleiu and Okinanwa, 2007).

The psychological effect of shelling seems to result from the combined effect of awaiting injury while at the same time having no power to combat it.

There is another aspect that I alluded to above which is the psychological and societal conditioning of the Roman soldier. In other words a Roman male’s social and cultural expectations of his place in the world. Feelings of helplessness and fatalism were probably a less alien experience for most Romans – even those in the upper classes. In general, the Romans inhabited a world that was significantly more brutal and uncertain than our own.

This another way of saying that the Roman and 21st century combat are very different in a variety of ways that subject the modern soldier to a good deal more stress than the legionary was ever likely to suffer. And the Roman’s societal preparation – his life before the battle – was far more robust than that we enjoy today.

Take infant mortality. In the modern developed world, our infant mortality rates are about ten per thousand. In Rome, it is estimated that this number was three hundred per thousand. Three-tenths of infants would die within the first year, and an additional fifth would not make it to the age of ten - 50% of children would not survive childhood. Anecdotal evidence supports these statistics: Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, gave birth to twelve children between 163 bc and 152 bc; all twelve survived their father’s death in 152 bc, but only three survived to adulthood. Marcus Aurelius and his wife, Faustina, had at least twelve children but only the future emperor Commodus survived.  

Then look at how that child grows up. The typical Roman child would be raised in a society that readily accepted ultra-violent arena entertainment, mob justice, frequent and bloody warfare as a fact of life. This was reinforced by religious and societal encouragement to see war as natural and beneficial, open butchering of food animals, a total lack of support structures for the poor and less able.

Compared to the legionary our modern soldier has been protected from such realities to a greater degree than at any other point in history, and will thus be far less well prepared for the horror of a warfare that contains far more stress factors than for a man who might fight a handful of battles in his military career, with long periods of relative calm in between, state of war notwithstanding. Modern special and elite forces training often emphasises the brutalisation and ‘rebuilding’ of the recruit in readiness for this step into darkness, but it seems likely that no such conditioning would have been needed two thousand years ago.

I would argue that we experience war very differently from the way the Romans did. Our modern identity is defined far more by our Western Christian heritage than our Western Classical roots. They are in fact world apart when it comes to ethics and morality. Consider the fact that when we talk of war and killing today we often do so through conflict between our civilian moral codes – which offer the strict injunction not to do violence to other human beings – and wartime, when men are commanded to violate such prohibitions. It is a terrible thing to try to navigate ‘Thou shalt not kill’ and the necessity of taking a life in combat.

It is sometimes the case that the qualities that make the best soldier do not make the best civilian, a point amply attested in Greek poetry by heroes such as Heracles and Odysseus.

The Romans, for their part, celebrated heroes such as Cincinnatus, who could command effectively and then leave behind the power he wielded to return to his humble plough. It is important, however, when evaluating combat and its effects in the ancient world, that we do not read our ambivalence about violence onto the Romans. They inhabited an empire whose prosperity was quite openly tied to conquest.

As M. Zimmerman writes in his academic article, “Violence in Late Antiquity Reconsidered’ (2007), “The pain of the other, seen on the distorted faces of public and private monuments, or heard in the screams of criminals in the amphitheatre, reassured Romans of their own place in the world. Violence was a pervasive presence in the public space; indeed, it was an important basis for its existence, pertaining as it did not only to victories over external enemies but also to the internal order of the state.”

Violence then was both the means and the expression of Roman power. The Roman soldier was its instrument. The Roman warrior then would have brought a different perspective to lethal violence, and would have had a far more restricted moral circle to his modern counterpart – his friends and family, clan, patron and clients, as opposed to millions of fellow citizens via the internet and social media.

Part II follows next post

#question #ask #PTSD #war #roman #greek #classical #legionary #spartan #mental health #depression #trauma #warfare #british army #mental illness #homecoming #soldiers #combat veterans #veterans

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 years

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Zuck calls Apple a monopolist

The copyright scholar James Boyle has a transformative way to think about political change. He tells a story about how the word "ecology" welded together a bunch of disparate issues into a movement.

Prior to "ecology," there were people who cared about owls, or air pollution, or acid rain, or whales, and while none of these people thought the others were misguided, they also didn't see them as being as part of the same cause.

Whales aren't anything like owls and acid rain isn't anything like ozone depletion. But the rise of the term "ecology," turned issues into a movement. Instead of being 1,000 causes, it was a single movement with 1,000 on-ramps.

Movements can strike at the root, look to the underlying economic and philosophical problems that underpin all the different causes that brought the movement's adherents together. Movements get shit done.

Which brings me to monopolies. This week, Mark Zuckerberg, one of the world's most egregious, flagrant, wicked monopolists, made a bunch of public denunciations of Apple for...monopolistic conduct.

Or, at least, he tried to. Apple stopped him. Because they actually do have a monopoly (and a monoposony) (in legal-economic parlance, these terms don't refer to a single buyer or seller, they refer to a firm with "market power" - the power to dictate pricing).

Facebook is launching a ticket-sales app and the Ios version was rejected because it included a notice to users that included in their price was a 30% vig that Apple was creaming off of Facebook's take.

https://www.theverge.com/2020/8/28/21405140/apple-rejects-facebook-update-30-percent-cut

Apple blocked the app because this was "irrelevant" information, and their Terms of Service bans "showing irrelevant" information.

This so enraged Zuck that he gave a companywide address - of the sort that routinely leaks - calling Apple a monopolist (they are), accused them of extracting monopoly rents (they do), and of blocking "innovation" and "competition" (also true).

https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/pranavdixit/zuckerberg-apple-monopoly

Now, there are a bunch of Apple customers who consider themselves members of an oppressed religious minority who'll probably stop here (perhaps after an angry reply), and that's OK. You do you. But I have more to say.

Apple is a monopolist, sure, but more importantly, they are monoposonists - these are firms with "excessive buying power," gatekeepers who control access to purchasers. Monoposony power is MUCH easier to accumulate than monopoly power.

In the econ literature, we see how control over as little as 10% of the market can cement a firm's position, giving it pricing power over suppliers. Monopsony is the source of "chickenization," named for the practices of America's chicken-processing giants.

Chickenized poultry farmers have to buy all their chicks from Big Chicken; the packers tell them what to feed their birds, which vets to use, and spec out their chicken coops. They set the timing on the lights in the coops, and dictate feeding schedules.

The chickens can only be sold to the packer that does all this control-freaky specifying, and the farmer doesn't find out how much they'll get paid until the day they sell their birds.

Big Chicken has data on all the farmers they've entrapped and they tune the payments so that the farmers can just barely scratch out a living, teetering on the edge of bankruptcy and dependent on the packer for next year's debt payments.

Farmers who complain in public are cut off and blackballed - like the farmer who lost his contract and switched to maintaining chicken coops, until the packer he'd angered informed all their farmers that if they hired him, they would also get cancelled.

Monopsony chickenizes whose groups of workers, even whole industries. Amazon has chickenized publishers. Uber has chickenized drivers. Facebook and Google have chickenized advertisers. Apple has chickenized app creators.

Apple is a monopsony. So is Facebook.

Market concentration is like the Age of Colonization: at first, the Great Powers could steer clear of one another's claims. If your rival conquered a land you had your eye on, you could pillage the one next door.

Why squander your energies fighting each other when you could focus on extracting wealth from immiserated people no one else had yet ground underfoot?

But eventually, you run out of new lands to conquer, and your growth imperative turns into direct competition.

We called that "World War One." During WWI, there were plenty of people who rooted for their countries and cast the fighting as a just war of good vs evil. But there was also a sizable anti-war movement.

This movement saw the fight as a proxy war between aristocrats, feuding cousins who were so rich that they didn't fight over who got grandma's china hutch - they fought over who got China itself.

The elites who started the Great War had to walk a fine line. If they told their side that Kaiser Bill is only in the fight to enrich undeserving German aristos, they risked their audience making the leap to asking whether their aristos were any more deserving.

GAFAM had divided up cyberspace like the Pope dividing the New World: ads were Goog, social is FB, phones are Apple, enterprise is Msft, ecommerce belongs to Amazon. There was blurriness at the edges, but they mostly steered clear of one another's turf.

But once they'd chickenized all the suppliers and corralled all the customers, they started to challenge one another's territorial claims, and to demand that we all take a side, to fight for Google's right to challege FB's social dominance, or to side with FB over Apple.

And they run a risk when they ask us to take a side, the risk that we'll start to ask ourselves whether ANY of these (tax-dodging, DRM-locking, privacy invading, dictator-abetting, workforce abusing) companies deserve our loyalty.

And that risk is heightened because the energy to reject monopolies (and monoposonies) needn't start with tech - the contagion may incubate in an entirely different sector and make the leap to tech.

Like, maybe you're a wrestling fan, devastated to see your heroes begging on Gofundme to pay their medical bills and die with dignity in their 50s from their work injuries, now there's only one major league whose owner has chickenized his workers.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m8UQ4O7UiDs&list=FLM6hLIAIO-KfsNFn8ENnftw&index=767

Maybe you wear glasses and just realized that a single Italian company, Luxottica, owns every major brand, retailer, lab and insurer and has jacked up prices 1,000%.

https://www.latimes.com/business/lazarus/la-fi-lazarus-glasses-lenscrafters-luxottica-monopoly-20190305-story.html

Or maybe the market concentration you care about it in healthcare, cable, finance, pharma, ed-tech, publishing, film, music, news, oil, mining, aviation, hotels, automotive, rail, ag-tech, biotech, lumber, telcoms, or a hundred other sectors.

That is, maybe you just figured out that the people who care about owls are on the same side as the people who care about the ozone layer. All our markets have become hourglass shaped, with monop(olists/sonists) sitting at the pinch-point, collecting rents from both sides, and they've run out of peons to shake down, so they're turning on each other.

They won't go gently. Every Big Tech company is convinced that they have the right to be the pinchpoint in the hour-glass, and is absolutely, 100% certain that they don't want to be trapped in the bulbs on either side of the pinch.

They know how miserable life is for people in the bulbs, because they are the beneficiaries of other peoples' misery. Misery is for other people.

But they're in a trap. Monopolies and monopsonies are obviously unjust, and the more they point out the injustices they are EXPERIENCING, the greater the likelihood that we'll start paying attention to the injusticies they are INFLICTING.

Much of the energy to break up Big Tech is undoubtedly coming from the cable and phone industry. This is a darkly hilarious fact that many tech lobbyists have pointed out, squawking in affront: "How can you side with COMCAST and AT&T to fight MONOPOLIES?!"

They have a point. Telcoms is indescribably, horrifically dirty and terrible and every major company in the sector should be shattered, their execs pilloried and their logomarks cast into a pit for 1,000 years.

Their names should be curses upon our lips: "Dude, what are you, some kind of TIME WARNER?"

But this just shows how lazy and stupid and arrogant monopolies are. Telcoms think that if they give us an appetite for trustbusting Big Tech, that breaking up GAFAM will satiate us.

They could not be more wrong. There is no difference in the moral case for trustbusting Big Tech and busting up Big Telco. If Big Tech goes first, it'll be the amuse-bouche. There's a 37-course Vegas buffet of trustbustable industries we'll fill our plates with afterward.

Likewise, if you needed proof that Zuck is no supergenius - that he is merely a mediocre sociopath who has waxed powerful because he was given a license to cheat by regulators who looked the other way while he violated antitrust law - just look at his Apple complaints.

Everything he says about Apple is 100% true.

Everything he says about Apple is also 100% true OF FACEBOOK.

Can Zuck really not understand this? If not, there are plenty of people in the bulbs to either side of his pinch who'd be glad to explain it to him.

The monopolized world is all around us. That's the bad news.

The good news is that means that everyone who lives in the bulbs - everyone except the tiny minority who operate the pinch - is on the same side.

There are 1,000 reasons to hate monopolies, which means that there are 1,000 on-ramps to a movement aimed at destroying them. A movement for pluralism, fairness and solidarity, rather than extraction and oligarchy.

And just like you can express your support for "ecology" by campaigning for the ozone layer while your comrade campaigns for owls, you can fight oligarchy by fighting against Apple, or Facebook, or Google, or Comcast, or Purdue Poultry...or Purdue Pharma.

You are on the same side as the wrestling fan who just gofundemed a beloved wrestler, and the optician who's been chickenized by Luxottica, and the Uber driver whose just had their wages cut by an app.

#pluralistic

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cutest-bug · 3 years

Text

Interview with Adrien Agreste! Subject: The Oxygen Project.

Conducted by Alya Cesaire

Ok so I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this addition to a post I made on my main blog about Adrien low key trashing the Agreste brand the way Robert Pattinson does Twilight. I know it was meant to be more of a goofy idea but my head is full of angst and this is what I came up with at 4 a.m. lol.

Alya smiles warmly as Adrien settles into the seat across from her.

“Are you ready?” She asks. He gives her a slightly nervous smile but nods. She nods to Nino who hits record and Adriens face immediately smoothes over into a pleasant and unreadable mask. It’s actually a little freaky to watch.

It’s a Monday afternoon and they’re set up in the art room during their lunch period. Adrien looks as perfectly neutral as always. Non flashy designer labels and tousled hair that probably took 20 minutes to style. For once though, his actions will be a little less perfect and easy to swallow.

“Hi Adrien, thanks for agreeing to an interview on the Ladyblog, I’m glad we could finally do this.”

He smiles and considers for a moment before answering, tiling his head a degree, “The pleasure is mine Alya, especially since I’m the one who approached you about doing this.”

That’s true. Right after the class joined Mylene and Ivan for their protest of the Oxygen Project Adrien asked to speak with her. He was upset that he had been tricked into modeling for the project without knowing what it was for. While most of his die hard fans had gotten wind he didn’t support it, he wanted to farther remedy the situation and use his position to reach a wider audience. Of course there weren’t many platforms he could do that on behind his fathers back, hence asking for Alya’s help.

“Still, I know interviews aren’t your favorite. Otherwise I probably would have asked you a while ago.”

Adrien smiled again, a little more genuinely (the one she knew Marinette was so fond of), “I don’t really like probing questions from journalists about my personal life. The fact that you’ve never asked or taken advantage of knowing me means a lot. I trust you.”

“Personally I think it’s a little crazy you have to do all of those interviews at all. You’re only 15, your life shouldn’t be so public.”

Adrien lets the smile fall several degrees. It’s deliberate, he’s letting people see his discomfort, “Well, it kind of goes hand and hand with all of the modeling. I’m the face of the Agreste brand.”

Alya nods and looks down at the papers in her lap, “Which is the point of our interview today, really.” They had agreed on what was and wasn’t to be talked about before hand, however they don’t have a planned out dialogue. They agreed that they both do well with more organic conversation, and it’s important the interview comes off as very genuine.

Adrien nods in agreement and Alya continues, “Now that the plan for the Oxygen Project is officially canceled, it’s time to clear up what your involvement with the promotion of it was. Nearly everyone in Paris saw the ads that ran.” Unfortunately it had been to late for Mayor Bourgeois to cancel the first few days of ads. For nearly a week Adriens face played on every television in the city, telling everyone about what a great breath of fresh air the project would be.

Alya hands him the first photo in her lap. It’s of him with the class after they first arrived at the protest, looking interested but not particularly emotional yet. It’s from the video that she filmed, but there was a pretty low view rate on the protest coverage. The interview with Adrien will probably get anywhere from 3 to 5 times as many.

“What not everyone realizes is that you were present during the planned tree cutting ceremony and following protest. So what was going on for you at this point in the day Adrien?”

“Our whole class had just gone to the park to support Mylene and Ivan, our friends who lead the protest. Right after we arrived Mylene started arguing with the Mayor about whether the project was good for the environment or not.”

“That girl has a hidden fire!” Alya adds, “I have a section dedicated to activism on the blog now. The video from the whole day is there but I also posted some smaller segments explaining the conflict and a few more that Mylene recommended on how to get involved.”

Adrien gave his most genuine smile yet, “I watched those! I hope your viewers take the time to check them out. I know the super hero fights are exciting, I mean I’ve been glued to your blog from the start, but I’m glad people like Mylene and Ivan are reminding us to keep our eyes on the big picture too.”

Alya nods, “So am I. Ok, it was during this argument that the ad was first shown correct?”

Adrien lets the smile fall completely this time, “Yes. Apparently the plan was always to air it for the first time during the tree cutting ceremony. It was also the first time I’d seen it.”

“I’m sure most of our viewers have seen it already, so I’m not going to play it now,” Adrien shoots her a grateful look, “Adrien, she says kindly, “I remember how surprised you were when the ad played. Do you want to tell everyone why?”

Adrien looks down at his hands, “I hadn’t known what the ad was for when I filmed it. I thought it was another one of those silly perfume commercials.” Alya isn’t sure if him saying “silly” was a slip up or on purpose but she struggles not to laugh.

“Did someone tell you it was a perfume commercial or did you just assume when you were given the script?”

“I was told it was for perfume.”

“Can I ask who by?”

She thinks the discomfort is genuine this time. Everything else is the video isn’t that bad, but this line could bring hell for him.

“My father told me it was.”

This isn’t news for Nino or Alya but she pauses for a long moment to let viewers digest that before asking her next question, “Do you know why he lied to you?”

“I suppose he thought I wouldn’t be ok with doing it otherwise.”

Alya smiles, a little proud, before handing him another picture. She’ll edit them into the screen for viewers to see later, “Well he thought correctly. Here’s a picture of you standing with Mylene and our friend Marinette, forming a physical barrier so the trees wouldn’t be cut down,” she pauses for a moment while Adrien examines the picture, “I gotta say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so angry.”

“I had just found out my image was going to be used to promote an anti-ecological plan that would harm our city. My friends had spent months trying to prevent it. I was furious.”

And Bam! As soon as she posts this video Adrien’s empty head, pretty face, good boy persona is shattered. He just admitted to having feelings. Angry ones. Directed at his father. Not to mention opinions on political matters. That is not the pretty face most of Paris is familiar with and fawns over.

“I’d be angry too,” Alya sympathizes.

Adrien puts the photo down and looks at her with a serious expression, “That’s the main reason I wanted to do this interview. For better or worse I have a lot of sway with my fans and public opinion. There’s still some controversy about the Oxygen Project being canceled so I want to be very clear that I do not stand with it,” he looks directly into the camera, “The oxygen project would have only helped the people profiting from it. The only ethical solutions for our city, and the whole world, are complicated, long term, sustainable options that will protect and rejuvenate our planet. No one has said it better than Mylene and Ivan so please go check out those videos under the activism section. Help if you can, and spread the word about the truth. It’s important that people know when they’re being lied to by a corporate campaign.”

Alya realized she stopped breathing for a moment because oh my god that was so good. She manages to quietly clear her throat and thank Adrien for the interview again. He plasters back on his polite smile and they give a brief hug before she gestures to Nino to stop filming.

“OH MAN! That was awesome!” Nino pulls Adrien into a one armed hug and doesn’t let go.

Adrien smiles a little bashfully, “You think? It wasn’t to much?”

“No way Adrien,” Alya cuts in, “the whole thing was great but that bit at the end? Amazing. Mylene will be thrilled.”

Nino pulls away from their friend a bit and clasps his shoulder, “Are you going to be ok though? Your old man is not going to be cool with like, any of that, is he?”

Adrien purses his lips and shrugs, “Don’t worry about my dad, I can handle him.”

Alya can see the fake nonchalance a mile away. Marinette is the queen of it after all, so she tells him, “Adrien this is really brave of you but I just want to make sure you know you’re in charge of this narrative. I probably won’t finish editing everything until tomorrow because I have a project to finish tonight. If you change your mind there’s no hard feelings. Or if there’s something you decide you want left out I’ll work some editing magic.”

Adrien smiles but her words don’t seem to relieve any tension, “Thanks Alya, it means a lot. By the way, where’s Marinette? I thought she was coming?”

“She’s probably just got caught up with something but I’ll see if she messaged me.” Alya checks her phone and realizes she left it on silent after the test last period. No texts from Marinette, but there is an akuma alert which explains her absence. She tries to ignore the immediate twinge of worry.

Adrien suddenly looks up from his own phone and rushes to grab his bag, “I actually got to go, my dad wants me home until the akuma attack is over. Best keep my head down until the bomb drops tomorrow right?” He rushes out before Alya or Nino can respond.

Nino sighs after his best friend runs out, “It’s so unfair he’s having to rectify his dad’s bad choices.”

Alya takes his hand, “I know. Something tells me this won’t be the last time he does so either. We’ll be there to support him though.” Her boyfriend gives her a soft smile and she kisses him on the cheek, “Come on, I want footage of that akuma fight.”

Nino glances down at his phone, “Actually it looks like the fight just ended a minute ago.”

“Wow that was short. It couldn’t have gone longer than the ten minutes we did the interview with Adrien for.”

“You’ll catch the next one,” he grins at her, “one way or another.”

She laughs, “okay turtle boy, let’s go get some lunch before we have to head back to class.”

They run into a slightly dejected Adrien on the way. He gives them an interview smile. They all find Marinette and get lunch. They keep the conversation light and avoid talking about the bomb Alya’s going to post tomorrow.

This is self indulgent. I really need Adrien taking some control of his life and standing up to his dad. Yes it’s painful but it’s so important that Adrien puts some distance between them in the public eye before Gabriel is revealed as Hawkmoth. I’m just hoping that can actually happen in canon but I have many fears this season.

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #mega leech #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #theres adrienette is you squint lol #im going to be honest i don't think there's anywhere this is a perfect fit chronologically in the season #it's just inspired by mega leech and the general trend of the season #with adrien becoming more and more frustrated #and that hopefully leading to him taking more action in his personal life #i hope i hope #my post #my fic

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