#Far Cry James

[ruskyart]

Far cry 5 oc.

Gonna upload some more memes sooner or later, but for now doodle page so i can link it to my fanfiction.

[messervixen]

Just listened to the lyrics specifically of Bohemian Rhapsody and 0/10 would not recommend. Absolutely awful. If you kin Sirius Black AT ALL do yourself a favor and never go with 500 feet of that song because it is rough. TCOPTP Sirius had every right to start sobbing the first time he heard it because it’s genuinely horrific.

[owlsie-hoot]

04.04

[daincrediblegg]

Just a laundry list of stuff from the Terror scripts that doesn’t nearly get as talked about as much as it should and I’m going to make it everyone else’s problem

The way that neptune’s shit in front of hickey is LITERALLY a revenge shit. Puppy knew puppy always knew- but also how neptune is so beautifully and carefully tied into scenes like. The script loved this dog. So fucking much ("we put up with it because the captain loves it" DAMN RIGHT!!!! THATS HIS DOOOOOOG).

As much as I hate these bitches: that extended scene with Sir John and Lady Jane???? Him in bed with the flu and they are literally the picture of casual tenderness and affection and I might never recover from it. He literally asks her to stowaway like I CANNOT with that shit it’s so unbelievably cute. "I'm ill, Jane" will haunt me forever.

Sofia’s “you should marry a pole, not a woman”??? YYYYYYYOWCH

Also the change your jacket before you come down to dinner bit to Francis that was carried over from the book makes me go insane. Yes. Change your whole self to make yourself presentable to good society and then you can be with us. Yeah. Sooo fucking normal (I am yanking that man away from Sofia with my fucking teeth on the scruff of his neck).

Also. The Pelgar Bridgens romance. Is so real. Show gets so subtle with it I read it as a storge kinda bromance first go around but script loved these two guys being in love so much and it was beautiful that it was literally written queer love from the get go. And put up against Hickey and Gibson it’s a stark and beautiful and TRAGIC as fuck contrast. Like show showed it well but the way it was actually written is ascendant to me.

JFJ being at home in combat. Jesus fucking christ. And the crown of thorns. Jesus was a man riddled with scurvy and his name was james fitzjames. also the splinter thing he literally carries the ship with him in the most painful way possible. christ alive.

[janerogan]

not to think of pride and prejudices directors commentary of the 'im very fond of walking.' 'i know' scene, where joe wright says "he could have said 'you' there, it could have been 'i know you'" whilst watching far from the madding crowd, but! the way she pauses after saying 'i wish i could go, too' and they have a moment of just looking at each other in their own world. and im not the director but god. she could have said 'with you' there, there was an unsaid 'with you' and its absence was felt in the weight of the moment after. 'i wish i could go, too. with you.'

[agentark]

whatever you do, don't imagine a young J Corvin waiting every day at the end of their drive, hoping today is the day the mail carrier finally brings a letter from their very best friend

[engie-ivy]

A Far Cry From Perfect

New Chapter: We'll always have Paris

“It’s not even that you told him,” Sirius interrupts. “It’s how... when you felt like you had to explain yourself for being with me, that explanation wasn’t ‘I love him’, or ‘he’s a good person’, it was ‘he’s dying’. I don’t want that to be the reason you’re with me. I know it’s not. I know that you love me, but...”

“I do love you, Sirius,” Remus says. “And you’re right, that should be all the explanation ever needed. No, scratch that, there’s no explanation needed! I don’t need to explain myself for being with you, because bloody look at you. You’re so great, and I’m damn proud of being with you. I want to shout it off the rooftops that I get to be with someone as wonderful as you, no explanation needed, how many naps you take or what time you go to bed be damned.” He shakes his head. “It wasn’t that I told him because I wanted to provide some justification for being with you, Sirius. I told him because I was angry. Angry that that guy dared judge you for something as trivial as you needing rest, like that would in any way reduce what an absolutely brilliant person you are. Like the fact that your body can no longer keep up with your lively spirit would take away from you as a person...” Remus can feel the anger take hold of him all over again and he needs to take a calming breath to steady himself. “I was angry,” he states. “And I wanted to make him feel like shite. That was all I thought about, making this guy feel bad about himself, and I knew that telling him would make him realize what an arse he was being.”

Read it on AO3

[redreart]

James Heywood

Random facts about him:

• 40 years old.

• He's a doctor at Eden's Gate.

• Divorced after 15 years of marriage.

• Has a daughter who is studying in California. He pays for her education despite having a very poor relationship with her.

• He destroyed his own life and career by causing the death of one patient to save another.

• Joseph hates him because James seems arrogant but keeps him around because he's proven to be useful.

• He has an office opposite John's torture chamber.

• He is John's lover.

[derelictheretic]

Siblings Q&A | 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕊𝕀ℕℂ𝕃𝔸𝕀ℝ𝔼 𝕊𝕀𝔹𝕃𝕀ℕ𝔾𝕊

Thank you for the tag @inafieldofdaisies ! I love any excuse to talk about my sibling OC's (plus my own siblings OC lmao)! I might do this for Pip and Cas and the 2nd gen Sinclaire kiddos later because this was super fun! 🤗🩷

Note from OP: This Q&A can be used for any family member/friend who's close to your OC!

1. Who looks the most like dad?

Dean groaned, head dropping and his hand rising. Michael and Remiel both pet his shoulders in sympathy.

"It's really only the nose—and at least yours is the small cute version of it!" Remiel offered with a nervous chuckle.

"Don't lie to me."

2. Who looks the most like mom?

Michael and Dean both point at Remiel, their mouth falling open in offence.

"What the fuck you guys?" They whine, their brothers shrugging in unison.

"It's only the nose, but it's smaller and cute so that's better right?" Dean grins.

"Fuck off, shithead."

"Love you too."

3. Who eats the most?

"Me, don't even say it I know it's me." Remiel turns their head, refusing to look at their grinning brothers.

"Yeah, when you remember to eat." Dean snorts.

"Their stomach is a black hole." Michael mused, Remiel playfully sobbing in response.

4. Who has been in the weirdest situations?

The three paused, looking between one another as they mulled over the question.

"These two," Michael then said, pointing to Remiel and Dean, "they always get themselves into shit somehow." He shook his head. Remiel and Dean both shoot him offended looks and he just rolls his eyes.

"I think we get ourself into the normal amount of shit." Dean mutters.

"Yeah." Remiel agrees with a pout.

5. Who sleeps the most?

"Remiel." Michael and Dean don't miss a beat, Dean wrapping an arm around Remiel's neck in a pseudo headlock. They slap his arm but don't disagree.

6. Mom and dad's favorite?

"Their favourite first baby cigs." Dean joked, making both Michael and Remiel snort in agreement.

7. Most stable romantic life?

"That would be me!" Remiel announced proudly, breaking free of Dean's headlock to lean over and grab James' hand; their partner who had been politely sitting off to the side in silence.

"I would argue Alexys and I are pretty stable." Michael muttered.

"Yeah but Remiel and James are practically already married and they're like.... Both lil rays of sunshine, I don't think they know how to have a fight." Dean gestured vaguely and Michael just hummed unimpressed.

8. Worst habit of each one?

"Sleeping too much." Remiel sighed.

"Fighting as a coping method." Dean coughed.

"Not reading instructions." Michael shrugged.

"His refusal to use a cane or leg brace." Remiel and Dean argued; Michael just shook his head.

9. Who's the most dramatic?

"Remiel." Dean said, Michael and even James nodding in agreement.

"Hey, what the fuck."

"It's true baby, sorry." James pet their hand comfortingly and they just huffed with a small frown.

"It's not my fault you two are emotionally stunted and I can't hide how I feel." They snipped.

"We didn't say it was a negative thing!" Dean laughed.

10. Who had a weird phase?

"Dean." Michael snorts.

"Shut your face hole Mike." Dean snaps, hand shooting up to cover his mouth.

"Are we talking about the angry emo phase or the sad musical phase?" Remiel grinned, Dean spinning around to cover their mouth with his other hand.

"I actually hate both of you, shut up."

11. Best cook of the family?

Dean proudly stuck his hand up and Michael and Remiel gave appreciative nods.

"Michael's the better baker though, I can't bake for shit."

"True."

12. Best memory together?

"The first time we all went to the local pool in our hometown together." Dean decides and Remiel and Michael mull it over before nodding in agreement.

"We were diving for the hairties and coins at the bottom of the deep end and pretending to be mermaids." Remiel reminisced with a fond smile.

"Michael did some cool dives, he wasn't cool enough to be a mermaid though." Dean nods to himself, Michael scoffing.

13. Worst memory together?

"Too many of those." Michael smiled bitterly, Remiel and Dean nodding absently.

14. Dream trip together

"Japan! Just—everywhere in Japan!" Remiel near shouted and Dean and Mcihael both chuckled and nodded.

15. Would you rather not being able to shower for a month or have the same clothes for a month?

"Same clothes for a month." All three agreed.

16. Who's the older one?

"Michael, the ole' bag of bones." Dean grinned, patting Michael's back heartily.

"Okay, infant." He scoffed.

17. Describe each other in three words

"Michael is... Dependable, strong and grounding. Dean is grouchy but thoughtful and caring." Remiel held up their fingers as they listed off the words.

"Remiel is kind, a bit naive and very passionate. Mikey's more of a grouch than me, but yeah super dependable and cool as hell." Dean grinned.

"Dean is reckless, stubborn and loving. Remiel is empathetic, lazy and creative." Michael smiled.

18. Role model?

"Michael!" Remiel and Dean exclaimed, Dean wrapping his arms around his middle while Remiel leant over him to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

19. Who usually has the worst ideas?

"Toss up between these two." Michael nodded his head towards Dean and Remiel who both gasped in denial.

"It's Remiel"

"No, it's you."

"Nah it's not."

"Yeah it is—"

20. A GIANT insect is on the wall, who's taking care of it?

"Me, these two are chicken shits." Michael smirked.

"I don't fuck with anything that has more than four legs." Remiel grimaced, Dean nodding solemnly in agreement.

no pressure tags: @adelaidedrubman @deputyash @simplegenius042 @megraen @clicheantagonist @socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefable @kyberinfinitygems and anyone else who feels like it!!

[wrathfulrook]

James Rook

James Rook is 15 years old and has never known who his father is. But when he finds out who his father is, he realizes it's his mom he may not know. AU, no collapse.

Ship: John Seed x Patience Ekner (deputy oc) [past relationship]

Rating: T

Word count: ~4.9k

Read it on ao3.

Maybe James Rook was naïve. None of his friends trusted their parents the way he’d trusted his mom. None of them considered their parents their friends. Until recently, he’d thought his close relationship with his mom was simply a result of being raised by a single mother. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

It was easy to sneak away.

Now 15 years old, his mom had assumed his recent distance from her was just a bit of teenage rebellion. But it wasn’t him. It was her. All of her lies and secrets. He hadn’t even known his mom’s real name until recently. What kind of mom does something like that?

The more generous part of James’ mind reminds him that he grew up happy and loved. That his mom gave up a lot for him; he knows that. Based on what he’d been able to find – and he’d found quite a bit; it had been national news at the time – changing her name was likely just a desire to protect herself, to protect him. That generous part of his brain tells him that there’s no way his father was a good man. If he was, James wouldn’t have been on a Greyhound and travelling cross-country to visit a prison.

James loved his mom.

But the less generous part of him seethed in anger. What kind of mom hid her kid’s origins from him? That part of him also ached, felt shattered. He felt like a fool. And he felt betrayed. How was he ever supposed to trust her again?

~

When it all ended, when the National Guard came, they all ended up behind bars. Joseph, Jacob, John, and Faith. Tucked away where they could never hurt anyone ever again. In the aftermath, her own name and face were plastered all over the news. Her statements were used in each trial, printed in papers nationwide. And so the courts had been all too willing to grant her petition for a name change. Patience Ekner ceased to be, and Patience Rook was born.

Patience Rook left Hope County, left Montana, never to go back. She put it all behind her and moved forward, the only reminder she chose to keep, the new surname she took, her nickname from those brutal, bloody days. Of course, there were other reminders she hadn’t chosen. The tattoo of her sin, for one. Wrath, he’d assigned her. Not that she ever believed, but she found wrath fairly fitting at the time.

In hindsight, he’d chosen wrong. It shouldn’t have been WRATH she spent hours getting covered up with flowers that she didn’t think particularly suited her. No. In retrospect, it should’ve been LUST.

But the tattoo wasn’t her only reminder of that time, of him. There was also the child she’d birthed, the child she adored. Her son.

Hers.

But, oh, did he look like his father. His hair dark where hers was blonde, eyes blue where hers were grey. He even had that same charming smile, the one that had worked so well on her those many years ago. The only thing of hers she could see on her child were her numerous freckles. But while her freckles remained always, her child had outgrown them by the time he hit high school.

Every now and then, he would say something, make some face, talk with his hands in a way that she was hit full force with the memory of his father. Both the horrible things he’d done and those stolen, secret nights they couldn’t keep apart from one another…

But mostly, usually, she looked at her boy and saw only him. James. Her perfect miracle baby. The gift that made everything about those dark days worth it in her eyes. He had been such a happy, smiley baby. Always giggling and gurgling. He’d been talkative long before he learned to speak. Always so sweet and kind. Petting her hair and telling her “Okay mommy… s’okay mommy…” as she purged herself of a stomach bug he’d brought home from daycare when he was too small to even form full sentences, while she in turn tried to reassure her baby that mommy was ok.

Even now, he was her perfect child. Still sweet, still happy. But now his own person. And she was so amazed by the person he’d become. He was funny. Funny in a way she never was. And so clever. Amazing grades as well as a quick wit… Patience loved her child and she knew how much he loved her too.

Even despite how he’d recently been pulling away.

~

James wondered how many signs he’d missed over the course of his life. How obvious it should have been. His mom had always told him she didn’t know who his father was. He recalled once, in one of his earliest memories, that she’d told him she chose his name because she’d always liked it, but also because she thought his father would like it too.

He’d asked her about it later, and she said that she’d never said it. And he believed her. He was so little at the time; it could’ve easily been a false memory. He still wasn’t sure it wasn’t. After all, he had a memory from around the same time of flapping his arms and flying like a bird throughout the house, and that memory felt equally as real.

But whether or not she’d told him his father would like his name, she knew. His mom knew who his dad was the whole time. Because he looked exactly like one of them. The Seeds. The cult leaders. He couldn’t know which was his father, but one of them was. He looked exactly like John Seed. The Baptist. The sadistic monster who tortured and murdered and starved innocent people. Just reading about his crimes had been enough to give James nightmares for a week.

He didn’t know whether or not that man that was his father, but he was related to him. There was no way he wasn’t. He’d been able to find some footage of the court proceedings against him, and it filled his stomach with an uncanny dread. Like watching an older version of himself. The same smile he saw every day in the mirror, the same gestures, speaking with his hands in the same way James did. Even his voice sounded familiar. Not the same, but certainly not very different from the way James sounded to himself in videos.

If John Seed wasn’t his father, he was at least his uncle. One of those men – John, Joseph, or Jacob – was his dad. His mother, the woman regarded nationally as a hero, the deputy who brought the cult to justice, had had a child with one of the cult’s leaders.

James had spent the past weeks learning everything he could about the Project at Eden’s Gate. And he was horrified at the thought that his mom would ever willingly have any sort of relationship with any of those men. He almost hoped she hadn’t. But if one of those men was his father, and his mom had in fact not been voluntarily involved with any of them… No. James couldn’t stomach the thought of that either.

No matter what the circumstances were back then, the situation now was that James had told his mom he was spending the long weekend camping with a friend’s family, when in reality he was on a bus to Montana to meet the man who might be his dad.

It had been surprisingly easy to contact John Seed. Apparently, you could write a letter to anyone as long as you knew their name and which prison they were at. James’ first letter hadn’t received a response. Probably because he had intentionally been a bit light on the details. Eventually he’d tried again, this time including his mom’s former name and, after much mental back-and-forth, a photo of himself.

And that had received a response.

John Seed had written back, though he didn’t say much. And via snail mail, they had arranged to meet. John Seed had even offered to fund the excursion, but James had declined, instead saving his allowance and taking small amounts from his mom’s purse every now and then, little enough each time not to be noticed.

He’d never stolen before, and he didn’t feel good about it now. But James liked to think himself honorable, and he would find a way to pay his mom back every cent he’d taken once he’d figured out who his dad was.

And hopefully John Seed could tell him.

~

Patience wasn’t nearly as obtuse as her son thought. Oh, how she sometimes missed those simple days when he believed she knew everything.

No, Patience knew that James had something going on. She didn’t know what it was, but she had a few ideas. As a mother, she had quite a few worst fears – drugs, alcohol, vaping… But those were just fears. James was a smart boy. He knew better than to get involved in something like that. Plus, he’d been exhibiting no signs of substance abuse. He was just suddenly more secretive and private than before. She had a more realistic suspicion than drugs.

Sex.

She feared her baby boy had become sexually active. 15 was so, so young for that. Patience had never even been kissed until she was 19. She’d been a little awkward growing up, a bit of an ugly duckling. Not James, though. Yet another way he took after his father. He’d always been a cute boy. Her son had taken a girl to the middle school dance. Kids had had crushes on him his whole life. He’d already had three “girlfriends” in his young life.

And so, what if his recent distance was a result of him starting to have sex?

Moms were meant to worry after their children, and Patience was no exception to that rule. But she’d always tried to be open, honest, and educational about sex. He should know enough, be responsible enough, to do what he was ready to when he was ready to. And inform her when he was ready for her to know. After all, a child asking where babies come from while only having one parent… James had been aware of the concept of sex from a very early age, especially with her claiming not to know who his father was.

Patience sometimes felt like she should feel guilty about lying to her son about something so serious as his parentage. Especially because that one lie involved a million more. James didn’t know about her time as a deputy. He didn’t even know she’d ever lived in Montana. He didn’t know their family name was actually Ekner. There were a lot of tiny lies that went into covering up who his father was. But she didn’t feel bad. Not even a little.

Because she was keeping her baby safe. Safe from publicity. Safe from her past. And safe from John Seed.

~

James had never felt more out of his element than when he was checking in as a visitor at the prison. That is, until about twenty minutes later when he was sitting across the table from John Seed.

John Seed wore a beige correctional jumpsuit and his hands were cuffed to the table, which James hadn’t been expecting. Despite this, the man seemed completely at ease. He was well-coiffed, his salt and pepper hair slicked back, his facial hair neatly trimmed, and the crows feet around his eyes creasing when he smiled genially at him. He had clearly aged in the past 15 years since the news coverage James had found, but he was certainly recognizable, and still eerily familiar.

“So, you’re the deputy’s son… It’s nice to meet you, James.”

“Nice to meet you…” James floundered on what to call the man across from him. John? Mr. Seed? He opted to let the sentence dangle awkwardly.

“You can call me John.”

James nodded. “John.”

“I’m assuming you have many questions for me.” John dove right into it and James felt a bit flustered. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, though, and doubted anything would seem normal in a situation like this.

After a brief pause, he spoke. “Yes… Like I wrote in my letters. I think you or one of your brothers may be my father and I-“ James swallowed uncomfortably, a too-obvious tactic to buy time to build courage. “I was wondering if you knew who my father was.”

John smiled. The smile seemed friendly on the surface, but there was something in his eyes that James couldn’t place.

“I am. I’m your father.”

James nodded, surprised that he didn’t feel surprised. Logically, he knew it could have been any of the brothers. Logically, he knew that it was likely his close resemblance to the man across from him that made him feel any sort of connection. But the moment John confirmed it, he realized he’d known. He felt, somewhere deep inside of himself, that John Seed was his dad.

“So… you and my mom…?” James let himself trail off, not really sure what he was asking, or how he should ask it.

John nodded, one eyebrow raised, as if impressed by the audacity of the unspoken question. “Yes. We were involved. In secret, of course. We met up more than a few times, none of which were terribly romantic.”

James understood the implication and asked no follow up questions. John and his mother hadn’t been in love. They weren’t dating. They just… were. James didn’t love the idea of his mom being some guy’s late night booty call and didn’t particularly want to think about it. But at the same time, he’d spent his whole life believing his mom didn’t even know who his father was, so it wasn’t exactly an unbelievable idea.

“Is she well, your mother?”

James nodded.

“And where does she think you are right now?”

James blinked in surprise. “How-?”

John laughed, not unkindly. “She’d never let you come here. Not in a million years. Not to see me.”

James didn’t like the emphasis he’d put on the word “me,” some red flag going off somewhere in the back of his mind.

“She thinks I’m at a friend��s.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes when he spoke. “No, she doesn’t.”

James didn’t know what to say to that.

“Tell me, James, have you been raised in the faith?”

“I- what faith?” Surely John knew his mother never subscribed to the cult’s beliefs.

He shrugged. “Any faith.”

He shook his head no. “No. We’re not religious.”

John just hummed contemplatively but didn’t look surprised. Nor did he look surprised at the next, sudden question.

“Did you know about me?” He hadn’t even known he was going to ask the question until it was out, tumbling past his lips.

For the first time since his arrival, John’s face lost all traces of humor, of ease, of amiability. His eyes, the same eyes James saw every day in the mirror, bored into his own.

“No. No, I never had any idea. If I had known I had a child, I’d have been there for you. For her.”

James doubted that very much. Not because he doubted John; he had no idea whether he meant that or not. He doubted it because, even if he wasn’t locked away behind bars for the rest of his life, he knew his mother would never let this man near them. That’s something he would have known even before he found out just what his mother was capable of, what she’d done in Hope County. More than he trusted that the sun would rise tomorrow, he trusted that his mom would do anything and everything in her power and beyond to keep him away from any perceived threat.

And he knew his mom considered John Seed a threat.

John brushed past the serious moment easily, that same easy smile sliding back into place. “Tell me about yourself, James. A father should know some things about his son, don’t you think?”

James warily nodded. “…Like what?”

“Anything. Everything. What classes are you in? Do you have any hobbies? You’re 15, right? When is your birthday?”

“Uh- yeah. 15. I’m a sophomore. My birthday is June 21st.”

Though his facial expression didn’t change, James knew he was doing the mental math. And given that he didn’t say anything about it, the math clearly checked out.

“Are you driving?” John asked.

James shook his head no. “No. All the summer birthdays have driver’s ed in the spring semester. I have my permit, but mom’s only taken me out driving once, in a parking lot. I didn’t do very well, though.”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. It’s like anything else – you just need practice.” John smiled kindly, and James could almost forget the horrible crimes he was convicted of. In fact, if he wasn’t wearing the khaki jumpsuit, he was sure he would’ve let himself. “And what about school? How’s school? Your grades?”

“Fine. As and Bs, mostly. I’m taking all the regular classes. And my electives this semester are Spanish, debate, and study hall.”

“Debate? How are you enjoying that?”

James shrugged, uncomfortable bragging about himself. “It’s fun.” He left out that he was captain of the underclassmen debate team.

“And Spanish is an elective?” John asked in an interested voice. “Does your school not have a language requirement?”

“No, it does. Two years. But I want to take Spanish for all four. I just meant, I’m taking Spanish as opposed to French or German.”

John nodded. “That’s a very intelligent choice. Does your mother help you with your Spanish studies?”

James nodded, a bit taken aback that John knew his mom spoke Spanish. It wasn’t like she spoke it often. He was surprised it came up in their time together. “Yeah, sometimes. When I was first learning last year, she labelled everything in the house. And she’ll speak to me in Spanish sometimes when I want to practice.”

“She sounds like a wonderful mother.” John spoke softly, kindly, genuinely pleased.

“She’s the best.”

~

James had returned when he said he would, but he was very light on the details. When she’d asked how camping had been, all he said was “fine.” But she knew he hadn’t gone camping. She’d called the parents of the family he claimed to be camping with, and they were home.

James was lying.

Would he really lie about spending the whole weekend with a girl? He never used to lie to her.

Patience had gone out and purchased condoms, dental dams, and a few other small but useful things and left them in the top drawer of James’ bathroom. She considered leaving him a note, assuring him they didn’t need to talk about it if he didn’t want to, but eventually decided that leaving no note would convey the same message.

She was fairly certain she had James’ sudden secrecy figured out until a few days after his return. James had just gotten on the bus for school, and she was about to head to work. She pulled out her phone to check her banking app, debating the financial pros and cons of stopping for a coffee on the way.

She froze.

She double-checked that the name at the top of the account was hers. Then triple-checked. It was. She went into her checking account, to see where the staggering windfall of cash had come from.

And then she threw up.

~

James couldn’t focus at all. He hadn’t taken a single note, hadn’t read anything his teachers wrote on the board. He’d even been called on in government class, but he hadn’t even heard the question. His mind was elsewhere. Back in a Montana correctional facility with his dad.

His dad who was friendly, who missed flying his planes, who wished his siblings were housed in the same facility. His dad told him what each of the small tattoos on his hand meant, who laughed kindly when James clarified the latest teen slang he’d used, who promised to keep in touch and had already kept his word – a letter had arrived in his secret PO box just yesterday.

The same dad who was and remained a religious extremist, who’d used his legal knowledge to cheat people out of their homes and businesses, who’d cut off food supply to the Holland Valley. The same dad who’d tortured people, who’d skinned people, who’d murdered people.

James thought that meeting his dad would clear things up, but he’d never felt muddier…

~

John had aged well in the intervening 16 years. He had lines around his eyes, and his hair and beard had gone salt-and-pepper, but it worked. He looked just as good, if not better, than he had when she last saw him. How was it possible to age so well in prison? It hardly seemed fair.

He smiled at her from across the table, with that same charming smile and those sparkling white teeth. “Deputy. What a wonderful surprise.”

Patience glared at him. “Cut the shit and don’t call me that.”

“Patience Ekner.” The smile didn’t leave his face. “Or Rook, now, isn’t it? Cute.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you find this amusing, truly, but I actually need to speak with you.” They fell back into their old banter so easily that it startled her.

John leaned easily, comfortably, back in the cold metal chair. He nodded for her to continue.

“What the hell is that money?”

“It’s for my son,” he answered easily. Too easily. As if it were the most normal, natural statement in the world.

Patience had to restrain herself from leaping across the table and throttling him like she should’ve all those years ago.

“My son!”

All the mirth drained from his features and she was faced with the stony, terrifying look that lingered in the nightmares of so many Hope County residents.

“Our son. That you hid from me for 16 years.”

“He’s 15.”

“Pregnancy, dear. Also hidden.”

“And for good fucking reason!”

He scoffed. “I don’t think there’s any reason good enough to keep a father from his son. And James agrees with me.”

If looks could kill… well, John would’ve been dead long before he got her pregnant. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you even say his name.”

“Why not? It’s a perfectly good name. Strong, masculine, Biblical. I’m pleasantly surprised. I’d have expected you to name a child Björn or something ridiculous like that.”

Patience rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, John, your opinion didn’t actually factor into what I named my child.”

He smiled softly. “Yes, it did.”

“John, I am only here to tell you to leave us alone. And to take your money back. I don’t need it.”

“It isn’t just for you. It’s for James.” How calmly he spoke did nothing but piss her off even further. “I’m assuming you didn’t react well when James told you he’d visited me.”

Patience stayed silent and John grinned as she fell into the obvious trap.

“Oh…?” His tone was thick with blatantly-faux surprise. “He didn’t tell you? And I suppose you didn’t tell him you were here now?”

She remained silent, glaring.

“Interesting. It seems you’re both talking more to me than to each other.”

“Stop it. Just shut the fuck up and leave us alone.”

John shrugged. “I can leave you alone, yes, but if James wants a relationship with me, I have no interest in denying him.”

As Patience left, she heard him call out to her back, “You still look wonderful, Deputy!”

~

James heard his mother slam her bag down onto the table first thing when she came home. He walked into the kitchen to greet her.

“Bad business trip?”

His mom looked at him with a look he couldn’t place, one he’d never seen before.

“…Mom?”

“I wasn’t on a work trip, James. I was in Montana.”

Oh. That was the look. She knew. Of course she knew. James had never lied to his mom and he was apparently not very good at it. Not like her. He tried to quash down the unkind thought.

He also tried to quash down his initial impulse to apologize. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Well- at least, looking into this and contacting his dad wasn’t wrong. And he wasn’t going to apologize for that. The stealing and the sneaking off to Montana… that might warrant an apology.

“James…” Then his mom was rushing towards him, taking him into her arms, holding him so tightly she was practically crushing him.

And then he was hugging her back.

“How? How did you find this out?”

James sighed. “I was doing a Wikipedia deep dive on cults…”

His mom raised one eyebrow, perplexed. “Why were you doing that?”

He felt his face redden as he thought about Millie from geometry class. But he explained nonetheless, “My friend Millie is into true crime. She was interested in Jonestown, so I just… did a little research.”

He nearly jumped, he was so startled when his mom burst into raucous laughter. Seeing the look on his face, she tried to pull herself together.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry; it’s not funny. Just, that we got into this mess so you could impress a girl!” She laughed again and kissed his forehead. “Oh, you are so my son…”

James grinned at the joke.

“So. How did you realize?”

“I look like him.”

She nodded. “You really, really do.”

“I saw some videos of some of the trial.”

She nodded again, squeezing his arm in support. “That must have been hard.”

“I saw lots of interviews with you, too. Ekner?”

“Yes, Ekner,” she smiled kindly. “That was my grandpa’s name. It’s Swedish.”

James nervously chewed his lip, in much the same way his mom often did. “Yeah. You look Swedish.” He paused. “I don’t.”

“No. You don’t. I don’t know where John’s family is originally from.”

They were silent for a long moment until he finally spoke again. “Why?”

“Why what, honey?”

“Him.”

“Oh.” His mom looked down, as if gathering strength. And then she was honest with him. Truly honest. “You have to understand, it was like the world was ending. Not like the Peggies thought – that’s what we called the cultists, Peggies. Not literally, like them. But like the world as I knew it was ending. We had no phone, no TV, no internet. I was the last law enforcement officer left, and I wasn’t enforcing any laws. I was just trying to save people where I could.

“Everyone was armed. And everyone was using their arms. There was no food. I went hungry a lot. Hunted and fished when I could. My home, along with lots of others, had been burned down. I slept in abandoned cabins, unoccupied bunkers, and in trees stands. People were trying to kill me and I killed people. Always in defense of myself or others, but I’ve taken lives.

“I never thought I’d see a day where I could check the news on my phone, drive to work, go out to eat with friends, go on a walk unarmed… It was a completely different world. It was a war. Horrifying. The things I saw… well, I’m sure you read about them.”

James nodded. “I saw some pictures.”

He was once again pulled into his mom’s arms. “I’m so sorry, James. I never wanted you to see anything like that. I’m sorry you had to. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I want- Just keep going.”

“Ok.” She nodded and continued, “It was basically the end of the world. And in spite of everything he was doing, he was charming. And we became… well, obsessed with each other. Rivals, almost, though that makes it sound trivial. Taunting each other over the radio, going out of our ways to make each other’s lives harder, even in ways not specifically related to the cult or the resistance…

“And then it just sort of happened.

“And then it kept happening. In spite of everything he was doing. I knew it was wrong. And it’s not that I didn’t care… it’s that I didn’t care enough.”

“…Oh.”

“But I can’t regret it because it brought me you.”

He returned her small smile.

“And I’m sure you’re angry with me. And I’m sure you’re hurt.”

Yes and yes. But he didn’t respond.

“You’re allowed to be upset, you know.”

“I am,” James admitted.

“Everything I’ve done has been to protect you. He’s not a good man.”

“I know.” He looked down at the linoleum flooring beneath them. “But he’s still my dad.”

“Just biologically.”

James simply shrugged. “Maybe. But shouldn’t I get to decide that?”

His mom’s eyes watered with unshed tears and her face became pink in an effort not to cry. “You can’t trust him, honey.”

James wasn’t sure he could trust her either anymore. But he knew in his gut he would trust her again someday. So, he spoke honestly. “I don’t trust him. I just want to know him.”

“I don’t think he’s the kind of person anyone can truly know.”

“Did you know him?”

His mom hesitated a long time before telling him, “I’m not sure.”

“Oh.”

She gently squeezed his arm again. “I can tell you what I do know?”

James looked into his mom’s eyes and nodded once. And for the first time, she began to tell her son about his father.

[lulu2992]

Last month, I also watched the Walt Disney Animation Studios’ 100th Anniversary short film Once Upon A Studio, and I loved it.

It’s not the story I liked most; it was nice and cute, but nothing revolutionary or unexpected. What I loved was seeing and hearing all these familiar characters, especially the 2D-animated ones, again. I’m a fan of hand-drawn animation and really miss it, so I was happy to experience it once more, even if it was only for a few minutes.

I love traditional animation because it’s always felt more magical and “personal” to me. I missed seeing a character on screen and thinking, “I know who drew you”. Here, when Louis (The Princess and The Frog) appeared, I recognized his original supervising animator Eric Goldberg’s work. I also knew that impressive shot of Peter Pan and the Darling siblings flying around the building could only have been animated by James Baxter (his brain works in 3D; I don’t know how he does that but it’s always mind-blowing). And as a fan of Mulan, seeing her not only being animated by Mark Henn, whose style I think is unmistakable and who was her supervising animator in the 1998 movie, but also holding hands and singing with Snow White (the first Disney protagonist) and Asha (the latest Disney protagonist) was quite special and moving.

What’s also great is that you can tell they tried to remain as faithful as possible to each movie’s original visual style, which means characters, for the most part, really look like they’ve just come out of their respective films. Graphically speaking, the numerous protagonists all have their own identity (it clearly was the artists’ goal, and I think they achieved it), but the whole thing still looks surprisingly coherent. The vast majority of the original voice actors are back, which is a very nice touch as well.

I don’t know, I just think the care, skills, and passion of the people who worked on Once Upon A Studio were palpable, and that felt good. Their attention to detail is evident, and as someone who grew up watching hand-drawn animated movies and truly loves the artistry behind them, I appreciate that.

[derelictdumbass]

Deputy Dean Sinclaire x Deputy James Rook

Being with James was an entirely new experience, Dean knew it would be from the moment the big softie took his hand, gave him a yellow rose and asked him on that first date. He had never felt the kind of freedom and support he felt when he was with James, the absolute confidence he was utterly loved and seen by him was something he'd never imagined he'd feel. He was happy, truly—unequivocally—happy.

[divinekangaroo]

I remember this time I was invited to a friend of a friend's house (all doctors in training or psychologists in training , only me as the architect in training at that point) to watch Sex in the City Sarah's character getting married to her man as the ultimate endpoint of the series; it was a repeat watch not the first time airing so note in the below I'm not a complete arsehole. I never watched the show but I thought, eh, why not, I know a few people there...

So I'm watching and absolutely ripping the tropism to shreds in a cheerfully ironic manner to my friend and her friend, who are mostly lounging back around me, amused.

And this other lady turns around, she'd been lying on the floor on her belly face up to the screen like a little girl, literally tears shredding ruins down her face and she howls, can you please shut up, this is the most beautiful moment it's all I live for i watch it like four times a week

And then like three other floor bunnies with her turn around and they're all weeping too

And that's the moment I realised my view of what love might be was not the view of the majority of the Anglo middle class world

(true horror though: doctors and psychologists seriously where is your critical thinking lens do not drink the goddamned patriarchal kool-ade)

[patheticblorbloscholar]

Quaritch's existential crisis has so much symbolism throughout the film and Stephen does so well with his micro expressions that it shocks me it went over many peoples heads that he's not the same man.

The crushing of the skull being the very first clue we get into what he is thinking. Like Hamlet he is saying to be or not to be and choosing NOT TO BE. Right there.

Yet the memories and personality remain. The sins of the past forcing him to witness the life of a man he doesn't like nor want.

Then Spider comes in and completely changes the trajectory of his path. He hesitates at every pass. He sees the suffering of the Tulkun and is uncomfortable watching it.

Recom Quaritch is such a good example of how you take a villain and turn him on his head and make him suffer for the consequences and I can't overstate that enough.

As a Na'vi he feels more empathy than his human counterpart. His maker never felt any empathy for anyone and was only focused on this mission. This man is different. How many times do we have to explain this?

[skitskatdacat63]

2005 Chinese Grand Prix - Yellow Flag moments that made me laugh:

[divkazkdovikde]

oh my god, i’m so proud of him i might actually cry at this part as well