#Tony O’Donnell

[spatialwave]

𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒.

"𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑”

pairing: angus tully x fem!reader | benny o’donnell x fem!reader word count: 4.9k summary: with the party in full swing, you find yourself trapped between an unstoppable force (angus) and an immovable object (benny). it’s a love triangle you’d never asked to happen, but when you lacked important decision making, you could only get away with so much. while drunk, high, and full of emotions, you’re hit with a question — who will you choose? warnings/tags: mdni! slight mostly censored smut, kissing/making out, sexual touching, angst, hurt/comfort, underage drinking and drug use, jealousy, love triangle, name-calling, emetophobia/reader v*mits. notes: only one more chapter!!! :')

<- chapter three. | chapter five. →

This was your first time at the moonlight tower, a large, slightly wooded area that was lit up by the floodlights fixated on the large structure. By the time you arrived, the alcohol and weed in your system had been diminished to minimal effects––you were not here to be sober, you knew that much. 

“Where’s the kegs?” You were the first to ask as the vehicle rolled to a stop amongst the sea of others, some still sitting in their seats, gossiping and toking. Sliding out of the back, you landed on the grass with a soft huff as you looked around. You had never seen this many people at a party since you moved here, your lips curved up into a smile as it reminded you of the wild nights back home in California. A bonfire on a beach with dozens of drunk teens, basking in the bright moonlight and fresh smell of the ocean… oh, how you wished you could show Kaye and Shavonne the beauty of it.

“I see one,” Kaye pointed ahead as you girls stayed together in a flock, your eyes drifting to the side as you walked past two boys smoking from a bong, one of them nearly coughing up a lung.

“I should've stolen beer from Teddy when I had a chance,” you murmured, “You think Wooderson got enough kegs for everyone here?”

“You’d be surprised at his ability to know exactly what he needs,” Shavonne grinned, showing her pearly whites as spun on her heels to walk backward toward the party, “I think you have a drinking problem, Missy.”

“Me?” You gawked, pointing your finger against your chest with a quizzical look plastered on your face.

“Either that, or you’re trying to get drunk so you can avoid dealing with the consequences of your actions,” she chewed on your bottom lip, grinning when you couldn’t formulate a response, “Bingo! I knew it.”

“You can’t lead them both on, you know,” Kaye spoke from your left, another cigarette already lit and resting between her fingers, “and this is coming from someone who doesn’t give a shit about men and their feelings, but Angus,” she murmured, brows furrowing together, “he’s a really nice guy. Nicer than Benny could ever be.”

Her words made your stomach coil uncomfortably, cringing at the mere idea of finding Benny and telling him it's over. It wouldn’t bother you so much, sure, you’d miss his touch and comfort that was a near-addiction… but it would be hopefully replaced. You weren’t certain that he would feel the same.

“No, no, no,” you shook your head, “No lecturing me tonight! I’m allowed to make dumb decisions, and my first dumb decision is pounding back as many beers as I can hold.”

“Oh, god,” Kaye grinned, “I’m not taking care of you at the end of the night.”

You could only hold two beers, both had settled nicely in your stomach, having chugged them within 5 minutes of each other, and you were delighted to feel that familiar buzzing in your system that kept a smile settled on your lips. Sabrina had wandered off somewhere, likely to find Tony, while Shavonne just finished excusing herself so she could spend some time with Elise and Darla––much to your dismay. You could already imagine the gossip that would spread.

Clutching your third drink now, you and Kaye had settled against a large tree, standing side by side and watching as people laughed together, some stumbling after drinking far too much too quickly. Normally, you’d be right in there, dancing to whatever song was playing and shooting back beers like there were no tomorrow, but even two beers couldn’t settle your racing mind.

“What if I piss off Benny?” You turned your head to look at your brunette friend, meeting her darkened gaze as she finished off her second beer, “I mean, maybe I’m overthinking it, but it feels like he’s into this way more than I am.”

Kaye inhaled as she crossed her arms over her chest, “Do you want my honest opinion?”

“Is it going to be harsh?” You asked, crinkling your nose as she nodded, “Go on.”

“You need to break it off as soon as possible because I may not know Benny on a personal level, hell, I don’t like him on a personal level, but he’s been starting to look at you with these eyes that scream ‘I am in love’. Or at least infatuation, I think love is too strong,” her words making your eyes widen, “you need to pull the brakes on it before you go starting something with Angus. Neither of those boys deserve that.”

“That’s not fair, Angus is still dating Elise,” you pouted, lifting a hand up to feel your cheeks that were beginning to feel uncomfortably hot, “Those are double standards.”

Kaye smiled, reaching a hand to your other cheek and giving it a few gentle pats, “Life sucks, doesn’t it? It’s a man’s world.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” You blinked a few times.

“Not at all.”

Both you and Kaye shared a good laugh as you both grew tipsier as the night went on, practically attached at the hip as you wandered around to find another keg. Four beers was a bit much, you knew this the moment that you got halfway into the red solo cup because you felt a pain in your stomach, and you did not want those cheese fries coming back up.

You weren’t drunk yet. Very buzzed? Absolutely.

“I’m going to go back to the car, I forgot my cigarettes,” Kaye said into your ear before disappearing into the sea of people. You stayed put for a few seconds, thinning your lips as you held your cup and looked over the partygoers, but you were on the brink of being downright drunk, so of course you couldn’t remain still.

Tossing your unfinished beer over your shoulder, you decided to venture around and see who you might run into. Confidence coursed through your veins as you stopped to talk to people here and there, mostly classmates, sometimes a few random people that seemed either too young or old to be seniors. 

You couldn’t help that you were a chatty drunk. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Benny’s voice was hot against your ear as you felt arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you up until your feet were off the ground.

“Benny!” You laughed giddily, kicking your legs until he placed you back on solid ground. You spun around quickly, looking up at him as his arms remained around you, hands settling on the curves of your hips, “You’re drunk,” you told him, lifting a hand to playfully tug at the ball cap he wore.

“You’re the drunk one,” he chuckled, taking a few steps back with you as he settled against the side of his truck, your body still completely wrapped by his strong arms. 

“Hardly drunk,” you murmured, chewing on your bottom lip as you stared up at the blue-eyed boy, the one you’d spent many nights with. The one who knew your body better than anyone else.

It was a nasty predicament to be caught in, though, it had a rather easy answer. It just so happened that you were too weak to say what needed to be done, even drunk. You couldn’t stand there in his arms and even begin to imagine the look of disappointment on his face when you tell him you need to end things, not tonight. Not on your first night of freedom after junior year.

Fuck, this really wasn’t fair, was it?

“Did you wanna’ come to my place later?” Benny asked, his hands migrating further down your back until they were low enough to grab at your ass, a cheeky smile on his lips.

You let out a shaky exhalation, lips twitching––just do it. 

“Maybe,” you smiled, ignoring the gnawing reality in the back of your head and displacing it until you were sober again, “What’re you going to do? Try steal me away from the party?”

You really did have a problem. Kaye was right, you fed off of male attention, and Benny just so happened to be the one showering you in it.

“Yeah, I’d steal you,” Benny winked.

Only a few minutes later, the two of you were in the cab of his truck, him sitting in the middle with you straddling his hips as you sat over his lap. You’d been in this position dozens of times, his hands on your hips as your lips moved together desperately, tasting beer, cigarettes and mint gum. Your arms were always snug around his neck, fingers brushing into his tight curls after knocking the hat from his head.

Neither of you seemed to care that anyone could watch if they wanted, hell, Melvin and a couple of girls were sitting in the truck bed laughing and drinking, completely unbothered by the horny teens that were seconds away from undressing each other.

“Fuck, Benny,” you whimpered against his lips, tilting your head back so he was forced to pepper kisses along your jaw and neck, sending shivers down your spine.

The world spun as you stared up at the ceiling of the truck’s cab, eyelashes fluttering as you felt him suck a mark just underneath your ear and too dazed to try to push him away or berate him for doing so. You just kept your hands in his curls and your chest pushed out as his lips trail down your collarbone and around the straps of the floral halter top you wore.

Both of you had no intention of stopping, the beers in your system removing any and all inhibitions. Gone were the thoughts of Angus, and Kaye’s advice––all you knew was that right now, you had someone willing and eager to give you the attention you desired. It wasn’t so bad to know what you wanted.

Benny’s hands trailed up your bare sides, fingers pressing underneath the tight fabric of the top that clung to your skin as his lips moved down your exposed cleavage. You could feel your body growing warm, your hips twitching over his lap as you parted your lips to let out a quiet sound.

“You’re so perfect,” you heard him say under his breath against your skin and somehow, those words managed to stir a sour feeling in your stomach. Back came Kaye’s voice about how Benny was infatuated with you, and only now did you understand what she meant.

The poor guy wanted you more than just nights like these, he worshipped the very ground you walked on. He wanted to call you his.

Your hands dropped from his hair and rested on his shoulders as a hand moved to the back of your neck, fingers teasing at the knot that kept your halter top covering your chest. As you swallowed a lump down your throat, you tilted your chin down to meet Benny’s gaze, seeing the way his blue eyes sparkled.

This was bad.

“Woah!” The sound of a voice startled you both, Benny’s hand quickly dropping as you both looked over and saw Mel standing at the driver’s door with the window rolled down, “Didn’t know you guys were putting on a show for us,” he grinned from ear to ear, wagging his eyebrows at you.

You felt like you were going to be sick as you slid off of Benny’s lap and settled into the passenger seat, looking out the front window as the boys chatted. You didn’t quite make out what they were saying, but something about a keg needing to be tapped.

“Hey,” Benny caught your attention, your eyes flickering to him as he put his hat back on, “I’ll be back in a bit. You’ll stay here?” Your mouth had gone dry and all you could do was smile and nod, feeling your heart tighten as a smile spread across his lips while he left.

You were silent for a minute, blinking a few times as you looked ahead at the tree Benny had parked toward. 

“Nope, no,” you breathed to yourself, turning to the door and quickly opening the handle, “I’m not staying. Fuck this. This is stupid,” you slurred. 

Without looking back, you slammed the truck door shut and walked as far away from Benny’s truck as you could, eyes staring straight ahead while putting one foot in front of the other and focusing on not tumbling to the ground. The now four beers inside your stomach had settled fine, but left you teetering on the edge of being downright drunk, and it was too early to be plastered just yet.

Your breath quickened as panic coursed through your veins, leaving you on the brink of hyperventilation with thoughts swirling through your mind angrily. Kaye’s voice ringing in your ears, the look of love on Benny’s face… Angus’ smile. You curved your path around a tree in hopes you would find a place to collapse and cry, but you ran right into someone’s chest.

“Fuck, sorry,” you groaned, reaching forward to grab onto the fabric of their clothing so you didn’t fall back. As your eyes flickered up, you were greeted with a small smile from Angus Tully.

Maybe things really did work out for a reason.

“Don’t apologize,” he smiled, eyes a bit reddened, and you could tell that he had been indulging in smoking with Slater, “Was hoping that I’d run into you sooner than later.”

His words made your stomach twist again and all you wanted was to find your friends, maybe find a quiet place to empty the contents of your stomach and end the night with cold water and more greasy food to put you to sleep. You had only been at the party for less than an hour, and you were content with going home.

Being wrapped up in drama wasn’t your cup of tea, but you let yourself dig deep into this one.

“You okay?” His voice vibrated through your spinning head as you stared up at him with heavy eyes. You could make out the sincere concern he had, it made your cheeks warm to think he was worried about you.

“I’m fine,” you replied, forcing a smile on your lips as you took a step back, “Just lost Shavonne and Kaye, so I’ve been wandering around looking for something to do.” 

Lies.

“Why don’t you come climb the moon tower, man?” Slater’s voice had startled you, “... Maybe not, you seem jumpy, man.”

“I’m not jumpy,” you cleared your throat, smiling shyly as you looked over to the long-haired stoner who shoved his hands into his pockets and made way for the tower beyond the trees. Pickford was following closely behind.

“Come on,” Angus stepped forward and nudged you playfully, “It’s not like you have anything better to do.”

You watched with curious eyes as he stepped past you and toward the tower, leaving you in your spot, feeling small and hopeless. It took a few seconds to calm yourself before you made the executive decision to force your brain to stop thinking and just start saying ‘yes’ to whatever came your way. 

All goddamn day you waited so patiently for a night of partying and here you were wishing you could just sit down and cry. Not tonight. This was your night.

“Why do they call it the moon tower?” You asked once you’d reached the large structure, watching closely as Slater and Pickford had started climbing up the ladder situated in the middle of the metal bars. Both of them had moved to the sides to clear the way of the ladder, hanging onto the various poles and looking out toward the sea of teens, then down at you as you followed Angus.

“Uh,” Angus breathed out, glancing down at you for a moment to watch you start climbing up the ladder before he continued going up, past the two stoners, “I guess they put it up here whenever they were building the power plant. It’s actually a good idea, you got a full moon out here every day of the year, you know?”

You crinkled your eyebrows together as you adjusted your hands each time you stepped up the ladder, feeling hot underneath the bright lights and trying your best not to think about how high you were with each passing second. Angus moved up the ladder and right past the two boys hanging around with ease like a pair of monkeys in a tree, grinning from ear to ear as their eyes watched your meticulous movements.

“Yeah, but nothing’s ever been repaired, so this whole place could fall down at any time,” Pickford spoke, eyes full of mischief, “So you better watch your step.”

Rolling your eyes, you moved closer to them—gasping when Pickford fell back, pretending of course and leaving your stomach churning. You muttered an insult at him as you inhaled a sharp breath, reaching the same height as them both as Angus continued his trek to the top.

“This place used to be off-limits, man,” Slater said to you, hugging onto the pole with heavy, red eyes watching your every movement, “‘cause some drunk freshman fell off. He went right down the middle, smackin’ his head on every beam, man.”

Your face crinkled in disgust, pausing your movements when you came eye-to-eye with Slater, “Nice try, asshole, I’m not easily persuaded by urban legends.”

The long-hair teen chuckled as Pickford began scaling the moon tower from the outside, “I’m being serious, man, you think I’d lie to you?” He asked, fighting back more laughter, “The autopsy said he had one beer, how many did you have?”

“Four, and I’m doing just fine,” you rolled your eyes, smirking as you pulled yourself past him, closing in on Angus who had paused to wait for you. Your eyes connected in an intense stare and a blush coated your cheeks, the sound of Slater’s voice warning you muffled and inaudible.

“Shut up, Slater,” Angus grinned, shooting you a confident wink before continuing his trek. God, he really knew how to work you.

By the time you’d reached the top, you were finally feeling so tipsy that your fear of heights had completely vanished. You looked in awe at the horizon of lights that came from the small town—it was peaceful up here, away from everyone else. It felt like this came straight out of a movie scene.

“You show this tower to all your girls?” You asked Angus, sitting on the platform with him and letting your legs dangle off the edge while resting against the metal that fenced you in. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “so, get in line. I have a waitlist.”

“Jerk,” you giggled, shoving his side with your elbow as you two sat side-by-side. 

A joint had been passed around again, coming to you three times before you were pleasantly high and staring off into the void of the night sky. It was a new moon, so the moon tower was the only light—it was beautiful.

Slater had started up a conversation about how many people were fucking then and there, pointing at the lights from town. You just sat there and listened in to the banter between him and Pickford, finding the boys comforting after a moment of panic.

“You sure you’re okay?” Angus whispered to you, his big brown eyes settling on you and surrounding you with comfort, “you seem… off.”

“Off?” You questioned, acting oblivious, “I’m fine. Just… tipsy. Stomach hurts a little, I guess.”

He didn’t believe you because you hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes as you spoke, chewing on your bottom lip to force back any lingering emotion. It’s not like you were going to sit here and talk to him like Kaye, spilling your guts about your insecurities with the situation you had going with both him and Benny. That was a can of worms you wanted to keep shut.

The two of you sat in silence, your chin resting against the metal bar in front of you that kept you steady and from falling off the tower.

“You’re a bad liar,” Angus huffed, your eyes drifting back to him to see his jaw clenching. Was he upset?

“Not lying.”

“Then why is your face all red?” He questioned, and you grew defensive.

“Why are you being so nosy? It’s none of your business.” You spat back, anger filling your body. This was not where things needed to go.

“Is it about Benny?” He tilted his head with a raised eyebrow, eyes piercing into yours. You felt judged by him for the first time ever, “I don���t know what you get out of sleeping with him, like his own personal little… plaything.”

“Can you stop?” You snapped loudly, pulling your eyes away and feeling tears form. The four beers really were too much, three would’ve been just fine, “I don’t need your fucking judgment, Angus, that’s a new low.”

The double standards were there again.

“Not judging,” he mumbled, “just think you can do better, is all.”

“And what? What’s better for me? Tell me. Are you better? A boy who just insinuated I’m some… slut!” You shifted in your spot, sitting sideways so you could look at him with fire burning in your eyes. You hadn’t even noticed that Slater and Pickford were descending the moon tower and giving you both space.

Angus stared at you dumbfounded at your question as he dealt with the consequences of his poor wording, lips slightly parted, but he wouldn’t say it. You wished he would, confirming the feelings out loud that you two had been dancing around for weeks.

The silence was thick and nauseating. 

“That’s what I thought,” your voice cracked, “you’re a fucking asshole, Angus. I hope you know that and live with it for the rest of your miserable life.”

Without allowing him the space to say anything, you scrambled to your feet and got the hell out of there. You could hear him calling down for you as you carefully made way down the ladder, shoving past Slater and Pickford, who had been waiting at the bottom. Tears stung your eyes and dripped down your cheeks as you felt the world’s weight on your shoulders.

Kaye was right. This was a man’s world and there was nothing you could do to change that, the cards were never in your favour.

“Fuck,” you whimpered as you walked through the wooded area in hopes to find your friends, or maybe a bottle of water at the very least. A familiar feeling hit the back of your throat as your mouth pooled with spit—shit.

You made it to a bush just in time, bending over and letting nature run its course as you emptied your stomach with a few heavy gags. If it weren’t for that damned Top Notch trip before heading to the Emporium, you’d be fine.

The night was ruined. You eventually found water from a very generous sophomore who took pity on you, nearly guzzling the entire water back and swishing it around your mouth until you couldn’t taste the acid on your tongue anymore. With embarrassment filling you, you decided that it would best if you just took a break from everything going on.

The world hadn’t felt like it was spinning anymore, but you weren’t very coordinated with your movements. The second the music and laughter sounded distant enough, you fell back onto the grass and looked up at the night sky. The moon tower's distant light made it hard to see the stars.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been laying there, ten minutes or an hour? You just stayed there, fingers splayed in the grass and inhaling the scent of nature. Maybe you’d just close your eyes and sleep there, it’s not like there were any wild animals around… that you knew of.

“Jesus Christ,” a voice interrupted your isolation. Angus’s voice. He sounded worried.

You pouted, throwing both hands over your face, “what do you want?”

“I thought you left, or something happened to you,” his voice was full of disappointment, “you can’t just run off like that when you’re drunk.”

You listened as his footsteps closed the distance between you both, a quiet grunt coming from him as he sat in the grass next to you and laid back.

“I can do what I want,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes covered, as if it would somehow make him leave.

A heavy sigh left his lips, “I’m sorry.”

“Is that all?”

“Look, you can stay mad at me, I get it. I was a total fucking dick and took it too far,” he admitted casually, eyes looking up at the void above you both, “...I’m jealous of Benny.”

That was new. 

Slowly, you dropped your hands from your face, head turning to the right so you could look at Angus. His face was just visible, the moon tower’s light barely reaching beyond the trees that covered you both.

“Really?” Your voice was soft, just barely above a whisper.

Angus looked at you, too, his eyes so soft and sincere. It was impossible not to fall in love with him.

“Please don’t make me say it again,” his lips cracked into a smile that was contagious.

You bit the inside of your cheeks as your stomach swirled furiously with a complicated mess of feelings. Love, anger, sadness—arousal.

“It still sucked,” you reminded him, shifting onto your side with your arms bent and acting as a pillow. You weren’t sure you’d ever get that line out of your head, Angus referring to you as nothing but a toy for Benny. Sure, the alcohol and weed hadn’t helped his filter, but that was a deep wound and would need some time to heal.

“I’m really fucking sorry,” Angus whispered, meeting you halfway and rolling to face you, “Seriously. I fucked up.”

“Yeah you did,” you thinned your lips, “but I think I could learn to forgive you.”

That caused a smile to spread on the boy’s lips, “I’ll work really hard. Like, overtime hard.”

“You’re stupid,” you laughed, the air between you lighter and digestible.

“I’m going to break up with Elise.”

Seriously, what the fuck?

“I…” you stuttered, blinking a few times, “really?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his hand reaching forward and resting on your red cheek, “I like someone else.”

His touch made your heart flutter, having been waiting for this intimacy for weeks. Dreaming about it each night as you manifested—praying to god that it would work. You were so desperately in love with Angus Tully that it was laughable.

“Who?” You asked coyly, smiling small and sheepish.

“The prettiest girl at this party,” he smiled, “just so happens to be laying in the grass somewhere with a real troublesome boy. I heard he’s a dick.”

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, “I know who you’re talking about. He is a real dick. The worst, actually.”

Both of you shared a small laugh, smiles reaching your eyes as the world finally felt calm, and you could simply bask in each other’s presence. It wasn’t enough, of course.

“Can I kiss you?” Angus whispered, almost like his voice would disrupt this moment.

“I just, like… threw up,” you crinkled your nose.

“I don’t care.”

Within a matter of seconds, you had been pulled until you were atop him, knees on either sides of his hips and straddling. Lips met in a furious, long-awaited kiss, and you saw stars.

Large hands gripped your hips and held you steady, a tongue flicking against your lips until you got the message and invited him in. It was sloppy, messy and wet, but neither of you cared if it wasn’t perfect. It was like years of pent-up stress and pining finally released, and neither of you would be coming out of this unscathed.

“Angus,” you whined into his mouth, hands pressed against his bare chest where the buttons of his top had undone. Nails scratched the surface of his skin, leaving red marks in their wake, as your body was heavy atop his.

He fed off your mewls of pleasure, lapping up your sounds with his tongue as you both moaned filthy, warm breath into each other’s mouths. You were both desperate for each other’s touch, hands wild as they travelled each other’s bodies.

Your hands lifted to his curls, his unbuttoning your jeans until he could sneak a hand inside.

Cries of pleasure fell from your lips as his fingers pushed into your underwear, leaving you a shaking, shuddering mess that could barely stay upright.

“Angus. I need you,” you whimpered into his ear, lips and hot breath brushing against the shell of his ear. You could feel the bulge in his pants, blocked only by your clothes and the fingers that he’d slipped inside you to coax out your beautiful sounds.

It was raw, passionate and heady. The two of you attacking each other with quick hands until your clothes were either pulled off completely or barely hanging onto your body.

Moans spilled from your lips as you rolled your hips together in slow, sensual movements—crying out into the void as you whimpered his name over and over until you were both met with a pleasant release.

Angus Tully would be the death of you.

[slicedblackolives]

List of celebrities that have signed letters in “solidarity” with Israel’s genocide of Palestinians

and the list of celebrities that have signed a letter supporting a ceasefire in Gaza:

Adam McKay

Alfonso Cuarón

Alia Shawkat

Alyssa Milano

Amanda Gorman

Amanda Seales

Amber Tamblyn

America Ferrera

Andrew Garfield

Ani DiFranco

Aminé

Anoushka Shankar

Aria Mia Loberti

ASAP Nast

Ayo Edebiri

Bassam Tariq

Bassem Youssef

Belly

Bonnie Wright

Boots Riley

Caroline Polachek

Cate Blanchett

Channing Tatum

Charm La’Donna

Cherien Dabis

Darius Marder

David Cross

David Oyelowo

Deb Never

Dev Hynes

Dina Shihabi

Diplo

Dominic Cooper

Dominique Fishback

Dominique Thorne

Dua Lipa

El-P

Elvira Lind

Elyanna

Farah Bsaiso

Farida Khelfa

Fatima Farheen Mirza

Florence Pugh

Hasan Minhaj

Hend Sabry

Ilana Glazer

Indya Moore

James Schamus

Jay Shetty

Jai Courtney

Jeremy Strong

Jessica Chastain

Jessie Buckley

Jessie Williams

Joaquin Phoenix

John Cusack

Jon Stewart

Kathryn Grody

Kaytranada

Kehlani

Killer Mike

Kristen Stewart

Lauren Jauregui

Lena Waithe

Macklemore

Mandy Patinkin

Mahershala Ali

Margaret Cho

Mark Ruffalo

May Calamawy

Megan Boone

Michael Malarkey

Michael Moore

Michael Shannon

Michael Stipe

Michelle Wolf

Miguel

Mo Amer

Mousa Kraish

Natalia Cordova

Natalie Merchant

Oscar Isaac

Quinta Brunson

Rachel McAdams

Rachel Sennott

Ramy Youssef

Raveena Aurora

Riz Ahmed

Rooney Mara

Rosario Dawson

Rosie O’Donnell

Rowan Blanchard

Ryan Coogler

Sandra Oh

Sebastian Silva

Shailene Woodley

Shaka King

SimiHaze

Simon Helberg

Stephanie Suganami

Susan Sarandon

Taylour Paige

Tommy Genesis

Tony Kushner

V (formerly Eve Ensler)

Vic Mensa

Victoria Monét

Wallace Shawn

Wanda Sykes

Yara Shahidi

Zoe Lister Jones

I wanted to include them both but there were hundreds of celebrities who came out in support of Israel.

[theunderestimator-2]

Punk Rock Utd: an all-star team of various musicians of the late-’70s London rock scene playing charity football matches in 1979 against Shoot! Magazine  and a TV sporting celebrities team and ending up playing at Stamford Bridge Chelsea FC ground, as captured by Bob Legon for Smash Hits.

L-R, back row: Bill Stewart (Island Record’s talent spotter), Gen X’s Billy Idol, Robert (4″Be2″s roadie), Sex Pistol’s Paul Cook  & Gen X’s Tony James.

front row: Mike James (Tony’s brother), 4″Be2″s /John Lydon’s younger brother Jimmy, Sex Pistol Steve Jones, 4″Be2″s Paul Young, Gerry O’Donnell (loan from Celtic), the Skids’ Richard Jobson & Thin Lizzy’s Phil Lynott on the far right playing “spot the ball”, to quote the original caption.

London promoter, DJ, manager & member of 4" Be 2" & The Bollocks Brothers Jock McDonald along with Faebhean Kwest of Cuddly Toys & Raped organized the event and Killing Joke’s Youth, one-hit reggae wonder Dan-I and some more presumably took part as well, while the part of the hooligan crowd was performed by The Upstarts’ Tomy Mensi. 

(via, via, via, via, via, via, via)

[doyelikehaggis]

I saw there was a picture of Ela-May and Charlie too. Do you know if there were any other cast members there?

There was! Here is a list of the cast members I recognized, but there were a few others I didn’t! Here is the tiktok that showed a lot of the cast arriving at the event!

• Danny Mac (Dodger Blake)

• James Sutton (John-Paul McQueen)

• Charlie Wernham (Robbie Roscoe)

• Kelly Condron (Zara Morgan)

• Tyler Conti (Abe Fielding)

• Jessamy Stoddart (Liberty Savage)

• Billy Price (Sid Sumner)

• Owen Warner (Romeo Nightingale)

• Nate Dass (Dillon Ray)

• Jason Roberts (Damon Kinsella)

• Ryan Mulvey (JJ Osborne)

• Ashley Taylor Dawson (Darren Osborne)

• Ellis Hollins (Tom Cunningham)

• Isabelle Smith (Frankie Osborne)

• Anya Lawrence (Vicky Grant)

• Elá-May Demircan (Leah Barnes)

• Ruby O’Donnell (Peri Lomax)

• Nick Pickard (Tony Hutchinson)

• Jessica Ellis (Tegan Lomax)

• Rory Douglas-Speed (Joel Dexter)

• Nadine Mulkerrin (Cleo McQueen)

• Harvey Virdi (Misbah Maalik)

• Annie Wallace (Sally St. Claire)

• Tamara Wall (Grace Black)

• Jonny Labey (Rex Gallagher)

• Jimmy McKenna (Jack Osborne)

• Lily Best (Lizzie Chen-Williams)

• Charlie Behan (Charlie Dean)

• Jeremy Sheffield (Patrick/Jez Blake)

• Parry Glasspool (Harry Thompson)

• Alfie Browne-Sykes (Jason Roscoe)

• Oscar Curtis (Lucas Hay)

[jgroffdaily]

“Merrily We Roll Along” curtain call photos by @rstania83, @larsonbu and Nicky Paraiso.

Recent guests: Billy Eichner, Lea Michele, Margo Martindale, John Gallagher Jr (again), Maggie Gyllenhaal, Benj Pasek, Sarah Jessica Parker, Matthew Broderick, Rosie O’Donnell, Bradley Dean and Alysha Humphress.

**

A comment on Steven Sater’s Facebook:

**

And from Rosie O’Donnell on TikTok as part of her Merrily review:

“And that Jonathan Groff is delicious!”

**

Facebook comments from Charles McNulty, LA Times theatre critic:

But a two-play day of performances that profoundly moved me...

Then Jonathan Groff fully inhabiting the central dilemma of Stephen Sondheim’s no-longer-recalcitrant “Merrily We Roll Along.” Groff’s portrayal is as much a fulfillment of his seasoned potential as Lea Michele’s in “Funny Girl.”

...for me, his performance is the key to the production's success.

**

Groff, Radcliffe, and Mendez are the sterling trio at the center of Stephen Sondheim and George Furth’s thorny and can’t-be-left-alone musical. As the show whisks back years and decades to when Franklin and Charley and Mary got their start, I found myself contemplating turning points in these three actors’ careers: Groff was a heartthrob in Spring Awakening, Radcliffe a megawatt of a star as certain boy wizard, and Mendez an unlikely ingénue in Dogfight. I grew up with these actors, and now—with Groff a movie star, Radcliffe miraculously unscathed from childhood fame, and Mendez putting in the rear window the racist industry higher-ups who told her, per her Tony Award speech, to anglicize her surname—it is a gift to see them share the stage. Harry Potter himself could not conjure the magic of gathering these three stars into one constellation.

The orchestra is slimmed down (those wishing to hear full, original Sondheim orchestrations will have to pay to see Josh Groban in Sweeney Todd next year), but silvery Groff, brassy Mendez, and scrappy Radcliffe do this varied score justice.

“Our Time”’s twinkling first notes left a lump in my throat. Selfish and ambitious to a fault, Franklin is also defined by his regret. Thank goodness for Groff, who can reveal both sides of this lost soul, and when he sings “Something is stirring, shifting ground,” he equates his promise to that of Sputnik, the artificial satellite he spots soaring across the night sky. Here, Groff is at his most excited and vulnerable, and when Radcliffe and Mendez join him on the rooftop, all the preceding (or rather, forthcoming) acrimony evaporates. When you’re dreaming big, what isn’t possible on a New York rooftop beneath the autumn stars?

**

Time Out on the best theatre of the year:

7. Merrily We Roll Along (New York Theatre Workshop, through January 22)

The sheer lovability of Jonathan Groff, Daniel Radcliffe and Lindsay Mendez finally turned Sondheim's 1981 cult flop into a palpable hit—and they'll all be back to front it again on Broadway next season.

[downthetubes]

In Memoriam: Pat Kelleher, the legendary British comics agent

We're sorry to report the passing of Pat Kelleher, who ran the Temple Art Agency, and, over several decades, gained many British comic artists their first break into the world of professional comics, including Keith Page, Mike Perkins and Chris Weston

We’re sorry to report the passing of Pat Kelleher, co-owner of the legendary Temple Art Agency, and, over several decades, gained many British comic artists their early breaks into the world of professional comics, including Oliver Frey, Tony O’Donnell, Keith Page, Mike Perkins, Geoff Senior and Chris Weston. They also represented many of the British “comic greats”, such as Ron Embleton, Harry…

[ulkaralakbarova]

A gangster, Nino, is in the Cash Money Brothers, making a million dollars every week selling crack. A cop, Scotty, discovers that the only way to infiltrate the gang is to become a dealer himself. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Nino Brown: Wesley Snipes Scotty Appleton: Ice-T Garald “Gee Money” Welles: Allen Payne Pookie: Chris Rock Stone: Mario Van Peebles Selina: Michael Michele Duh Duh Duh Man: Bill Nunn Park: Russell Wong Old Man: Bill Cobbs Kareem Akbar: Christopher Williams Nick Peretti: Judd Nelson Keisha: Vanessa Williams Uniqua: Tracy Camilla Johns Frankie Needles: Anthony DeSando Reverend Oates: Nick Ashford Prosecuting Attorney Hawkins: Phyllis Yvonne Stickney Police Commissioner: Thalmus Rasulala Don Armeteo: John Aprea Master of Ceremonies: Fab 5 Freddy D.J.: Flavor Flav Frazier: Clebert Ford Prom Queen: Laverne Hart Fat Smitty: Eek-A-Mouse Biff: Gregg Smrz Teacher: Erica McFarquhar Singer at Wedding: Keith Sweat Gigantor: Max Rabinowitz Woman in Hallway: Marcella Lowery Judge: Manuel E. Santiago Prosecuting Attorney: Ben Gotlieb Reporter: Thelma Louise Carter Reporter: Linda Froehlich Bailiff: Christopher Michael Recovering Addict: Kelly Jo Minter Recovering Addict: Tina Lifford Recovering Addict: Erik Kilpatrick Assistant DA: Ron Millkie Kid on Stoop: Harold Baines Kid on Stoop: Sekou Campbell Kid on Stoop: Garvin Holder New Year’s Eve Band – (Guy): Teddy Riley New Year’s Eve Band – (Guy): Aaron Hall New Year’s Eve Band – (Guy): Damion Hall Singers – Spring – (Troop): Rodney Benford Singers – Spring – (Troop): John Harrell Singers – Winter – (Levert): Gerald Levert Singers – Winter – (Levert): Sean Levert Butchie The Doorman: Jimmy Cummings Courtroom Spectator (uncredited): Akosua Busia Prostitute in The Pool (uncredited): Lia Chang Gangster Standing at Bar (uncredited): Jake LaMotta Barber (uncredited): Larry M. Cherry Brides Maid (uncredited): Cynthia Elane Girl in the Window (uncredited): Toni Ann Johnson Connie The Waitress (uncredited): Candece Tarpley C.M.B. Member (uncredited): Chris Thornton Film Crew: Director: Mario Van Peebles Story: Thomas Lee Wright Music Supervisor: Doug McHenry Screenplay: Barry Michael Cooper Casting: Pat Golden Production Design: Charles C. Bennett Director of Photography: Francis Kenny Casting: John McCabe Editor: Steven Kemper Unit Production Manager: Preston L. Holmes Costume Design: Bernard Johnson Original Music Composer: Michel Colombier Music Supervisor: George Jackson Associate Producer: Fab 5 Freddy Associate Producer: Suzanne Broderick Associate Producer: James Bigwood First Assistant Director: Dwight Williams Stunt Coordinator: Jery Hewitt Stunts: Danny Aiello III Stunts: G. A. Aguilar Second Assistant Director: Joseph Ray Production Supervisor: Brent Owens First Assistant Editor: Kevin Stitt Camera Operator: John Newby First Assistant Camera: Gregory Irwin Second Assistant Camera: Myra-Lee Cohen Additional Camera: Ed Hershberger Steadicam Operator: Ted Churchill Production Sound Mixer: Frank Stettner Boom Operator: Keith Gardner Cableman: Rosa Howell-Thornhill Art Direction: Barbra Matis Art Direction: Laura Brock Art Department Coordinator: Roberta J. Holinko Set Decoration: Elaine O’Donnell Script Supervisor: Cornelia ‘Nini’ Rogan Makeup Artist: Diane Hammond Assistant Makeup Artist: Ellie Winslow Hairstylist: Larry M. Cherry Hairstylist: Aaron F. Quarles Wardrobe Supervisor: Barbara Hause Wardrobe Supervisor: Jane E. Myers Wardrobe Assistant: Jill E. Anderson Gaffer: Charles Houston Rigging Gaffer: Martin Andrews Best Boy Electric: Val DeSalvo Key Grip: Robert M. Andres Best Boy Grip: Paul Wachter Dolly Grip: Tom Kudlek Property Master: Octavio Molina Assistant Property Master: Laura Jean West Assistant Property Master: Kevin Ladson Charge Scenic Artist: Jeffrey L. Glave Construction Coordinator: Raymond M. Samitz Special Effects Supervisor: Steven Kirshoff Special Effects Coordinator: Wilfred Caban Second Unit Director: Jeff Lengyel Second Unit Director of Photography: Jacek Laskus Second Unit First Assistant D...

[dankusner]

Can You Believe What Michael Cohen Just Said at the Trump Trial?

The star witness in the former President’s criminal trial is also the most aggrieved and seemingly unreliable one.

After Michael Cohen, Donald Trump’s former lawyer and fixer, was released from prison, in 2020, he became very online.

He launched a podcast, “Mea Culpa,” with the goal of righting “the wrongs he perpetuated on behalf of his former boss,” according to the show’s description on Apple Podcasts.

Early episodes featured Rosie O’Donnell and Anthony Scaramucci discussing the cult of Trump; more recently, Cohen had brought on the Navy cryptologist turned cable-news commentator Malcolm Nance and the former Trump ghostwriter Tony Schwartz.

On TikTok, Cohen has posted gleefully about the prospect of the former President, who is currently on trial in Manhattan, going to prison. (“Trump 2024? More like Trump twenty to twenty-four years,” he said during one of his nightly live streams.)

On X, Cohen has even started openly praising the current President.

“Thank you @POTUS @JoeBiden,” he wrote, in response to an interview that Biden did with CNN about the protests on college campuses.

“There is no place in this country, or the world, for anti-semitism, racism or hate!”

He who once endeavored to own the libs has set out to court them.

Though this strategy has earned Cohen a decent audience on social media—more than six hundred thousand followers on X, and nearly three hundred thousand on TikTok, where his live-stream viewers have been sending him donations—it presents a problem for the prosecutors in Trump’s criminal trial, who are relying on Cohen as their star witness.

In 2018, Cohen pleaded guilty to tax evasion and campaign-finance violations, in connection with hush money that he paid to the adult-film actress Stormy Daniels before the 2016 Presidential election.

He has now testified that Trump expressly asked him to do this.

Basically, the case against the former President is riding on the willingness of a jury to believe the words of a notorious turncoat—a man who went from vowing to “take a bullet” for Trump to writing memoirs literally titled “Disloyal” and “Revenge.”

A man used to bluffing, bootlicking, and bullying for a living, who has also admitted to lying to Congress.

A man who has nothing left to lose by testifying against his old boss.

Back in 2019, there were lawyers in the Manhattan District Attorney’s office who were opposed to bringing the case against Trump on the ground that it would have to rely too heavily on Cohen, who was unreliable.

“He struck me as a somewhat feral creature,” one former prosecutor, who found Cohen credible, wrote. The first month of Trump’s trial has been, in some ways, a long setup for Cohen’s testimony, with prosecutors calling other witnesses in the hope of corroborating in advance as much as they could of what would later come out of Cohen’s mouth. Many of these witnesses could not resist taking shots at Cohen. Hope Hicks, Trump’s former communications aide, said that Cohen was a “fixer” only in the sense that “he first broke it.”

Keith Davidson, Stormy Daniels’s former lawyer, referred to Cohen as a “pants-on-fire kind of guy.”

Even Cohen’s former First Republic banker, Gary Farro, acknowledged that Cohen was a difficult customer. “Everything was urgent with Michael Cohen,” he said.

Cohen may have been “highly excitable,” as Davidson put it, but prosecutors need jurors to believe that he wasn’t so excitable that he then went rogue in covering up a scandal for the future President.

It doesn’t help that he always appears shifty, even on the witness stand—his eyebrows sit high on his face, making him look like a basset hound, and one brow naturally arches about an inch above the other.

On Monday, his first day on the stand, he wore a light-pink tie.

“He said to me, ‘This is a disaster, total disaster,’ ” Cohen told the court, describing Trump’s reaction to finding out that, in the aftermath of the “Access Hollywood” tape’s release, Daniels was shopping around a story about having sex with him in 2006. “

‘Women are going to hate me,’ ” Cohen continued, mimicking Trump’s intonation.

“‘Guys may think it’s cool, but this is going to be a disaster for the campaign.’ ” Cohen said that Trump instructed him to hammer out a deal to buy the rights to the story from Daniels and to delay payment for as long as possible: “What he had said to me is ‘What I want you to do is just push it out as long as you can. Just get past the election, because, if I win, it has no relevance, I will be President. If I lose, I don’t even care.’ ”

These quotes sound like Trump.

But no other witness can corroborate them.

When it comes to these and other conversations between Cohen and his old boss, prosecutors can only offer jurors Cohen’s word.

To try to give them a sense of who they were listening to, the Assistant District Attorney Susan Hoffinger prompted Cohen to speak about his childhood on Long Island, as the son of Holocaust survivors, about the heady early days of his employment at the Trump Organization, and about his dismay in late 2016 when he found out that Trump had cut the size of his annual bonus.

“I was truly insulted, personally hurt by it,” Cohen said. “Didn’t understand it. Made no sense.”

Last week, when Stormy Daniels took the stand, Hoffinger struggled to control the actress’s testimony.

Judge Juan Merchan became frustrated with the amount of graphic detail that Daniels gave about her sexual encounter with Trump—missionary position, no condom—and Trump’s lawyers asked for a mistrial.

There was reason to expect that Cohen’s testimony would be equally dramatic: Trump’s lawyers had already complained to the judge about Cohen bashing the former President on TikTok while Trump himself is under a gag order that prohibits him from posting about Cohen and the other witnesses in the case.

But Cohen’s testimony on Monday was surprisingly subdued.

He kept his answers to Hoffinger’s questions short and to the point, accepted her premises, and often looked to her for approval when he was done responding.

“Did you at times during your work for the Trump Organization, for Mr. Trump, bully people for him?” Hoffinger asked. “Yes, Ma’am,” Cohen said. “Why did you do that?” she asked, to which Cohen replied, “The only thing that was on my mind was to accomplish the task to make him happy.”

Online, Cohen may still be a feral creature, but in court he seemed thoroughly domesticated. (We have yet to see how he fares during cross-examination.)

Trump, who has pleaded not guilty in the case, spent much of the day with his eyes closed.

He has appeared to doze through many of his days in court, but he seemed especially determined to play it cool with his old lawyer on the stand.

He didn’t whisper much in his attorneys’ ears, or slap them on the arm to get their attention.

At times, he looked engrossed as he read through documents that he’d brought with him to the defense table.

(New York magazine’s Andrew Rice reported that the pages included the latest Times voter poll.)

His lawyers objected only sparingly as Cohen testified on Monday, and called for no sidebar conversations with the judge.

The Trump courtroom has become an unofficial venue for Trump World courtiers.

On Monday, Trump was accompanied to court by Senators J. D. Vance and Tommy Tuberville.

On Tuesday, North Dakota’s governor, Doug Burgum, the former Presidential hopeful Vivek Ramaswamy, and Representative Byron Donalds were all in attendance.

I wondered if, as they watched Cohen get questioned, they considered the possibility of their own future of apostasy.

Trump is always Trump, but his hangers-on are all a wrong turn or two from becoming Michael Cohens.

Earlier in the trial, Keith Davidson, Daniels’s former lawyer who worked with Cohen to arrange the hush-money payment, recalled talking to Cohen during the Presidential transition in late 2016.

Cohen had been dreaming of a big White House job, but he ultimately settled for the non-governmental title of personal attorney to the President.

“I thought he was gonna kill himself,” Davidson said, of Cohen.

On Monday, Hoffinger asked Cohen if he had been disappointed not to get the job of White House chief of staff.

“I didn’t believe the role was right for me or that I was even competent to be chief of staff,” he said. “But I wanted to at least be considered. It was more about my ego than anything.”

Georgia court to hear Trump appeal in October

Trial likely after election

Former President Donald Trump’s appeal to remove the prosecutor in his Georgia election racketeering case has been scheduled for Oct. 4, strongly suggesting the case will not be tried before the Nov. 5 election.

'There’s no chance for trial before the election,' said Ashleigh Merchant, the lawyer who launched the disqualification issue by filing the motion to disqualify Willis on behalf of her client Michael Roman, a former Trump 2020 campaign official who is one of Trump’s co-defendants.

Trump sought to remove Fulton County District Attorney Fani Willis from the case because she had a romantic relationship and traveled with a prosecutor she hired to help manage the case, Nathan Wade.

Fulton County Superior Judge Scott McAfee rebuked Willis in March for a 'tremendous lapse in judgment' but ruled she could remain on the case if Wade withdrew.

Wade quit the same day.

But Trump has continued to argue Willis had a conflict of interest in paying Wade six figures and benefiting from the travel.

The Georgia Court of Appeals docketed the case Monday without setting a precise date for arguments.

McAfee hasn’t set a date for the trial.

But when Willis proposed an August start to the trial that could last five months, McAfee said it would be problematic to overlap with the election.

Even if an appeals decision were reached immediately, it is highly unlikely the trial could begin before the election.

Trump and 14 co-defendants are charged with trying to steal the 2020 election by asking public officials to overturn the results of the election that President Joe Biden won and recruiting alternate Republican electors to support Trump instead.

Four co-defendants have pleaded guilty.

Clark Cunningham, a professor of law and ethics at Georgia State University College of Law, said the docketing makes it virtually impossible for the trial to proceed before the November election, even if presiding Judge Scott McAfee continues to allow both sides to do some preparatory work while the appeal of Willis’ disqualification is underway.

'I think the only thing that could save this case from not going to trial until after the election, possibly, would be for the district attorney to do as I had suggested back in January, which is to take a temporary leave of absence,' Cunningham told USA TODAY.

'Whether that would at this stage moot the appeal is a little bit hard to say, especially since Trump and other defendants have argued that the entire DA’s office should be disqualified.'

'It’s very unfortunate, in my opinion, that the district attorney didn’t avoid this problem when it first came up, like she could have done,' Cunningham said.

Other experts, however, have warned that if Willis recused herself from this case, it might endanger the trial altogether by raising the prospect that the whole DA’s office could be disqualified.

'It would basically concede that there was a conflict that she needed to step away from and that her office’s power has been tainted by that,' Anthony Michael Kreis, a Georgia State University law professor, told USA TODAY in March.

Chris Timmons, former prosecutor in neighboring Cobb County, agreed that the scheduling of oral arguments in the case for October makes a pre-election trial impossible.

While he thinks McAfee technically could allow the trial to go forward before the appellate court rules, Timmons said,'it's unlikely he’ll want to try this case while the prosecutor issue is still up in the air.

[gameforestdach]

In der zweiten Staffel von "Reacher" rückt die 110th MP Special Investigations Unit ins Licht, eine Truppe, die maßgeblich für Jack Reachers Vergangenheit ist. Jedes Mitglied dieser Einheit, persönlich von Reacher ausgewählt, brachte einzigartige Fähigkeiten und Erfahrungen ein, welche die Effektivität der Einheit bei der Lösung komplexer militärischer Fälle formten. Sergeant Frances Neagley, eine bedeutende Figur in der Serie, wechselte von ihrer Position als U.S. Army Master Sergeant zu einer privaten Sicherheitsfirma in Chicago. Ihre außergewöhnlichen Fähigkeiten und ihr Einsatz machten sie zur logischen Wahl für Reachers Team. Captain David O’Donnell, bekannt für seine Gründlichkeit und den strategischen Einsatz von Keramikwaffen, brachte eine besondere Dynamik in das Team und spiegelte die Vielfalt an Hintergründen und Fähigkeiten innerhalb der Einheit wider. Major Karla Dixon nutzte ihr Fachwissen in Mathematik und forensischer Buchhaltung und zog nach New York City, um dort als forensische Buchhalterin zu arbeiten. Ihre analytischen Fähigkeiten spielten eine entscheidende Rolle beim Entwirren komplexer Fälle. Tragischerweise kamen mehrere Mitglieder der Einheit, darunter Major Tony Swan, Major Jorge Sanchez, Major Manuel Orozco und Major Calvin Franz, auf unerwartete Weise ums Leben. Ihre Hintergründe reichten von Sicherheitsexperten bis hin zu privaten Ermittlern, jeder leistete einen wesentlichen Beitrag zum Erfolg der Einheit. Captain Stan Lowrey entschied sich nach der Militärzeit für ein friedliches Leben in Montana, traf jedoch ebenfalls ein tragisches Schicksal, das die harten Realitäten verdeutlicht, mit denen Veteranen konfrontiert sind. Staffel 2 von "Reacher" folgt den sich entwirrenden Geheimnissen, die mit diesen Charakteren verbunden sind, taucht tief in ihre Vergangenheiten ein und erforscht die Bindungen, die sie innerhalb der Special Investigations Unit teilten.

[emzeciorrr]

Totino's Pizza Rolls - 'Toti' from Emma Debany on Vimeo.

The secret alternate ending to the Totino’s Pizza Roll ‘Ask Mom’ commercial. Most of this was shot in twenty minutes after wrap.

Legally, this extended cut is a short film, not an ad. :) Honestly I'm not sure if Totino's even knows about this so maybe don't tell them.

Talent: Toti - Josephine Arciaga Teen - Johnny Briseño Store Manager - Emma Debany

Director - Emma Debany Agency Creative Directors: Bo Jacobson Alyssa Ollis Agency Producer - Emily Brown Executive Producer - Malcolm Wax Head of Production - Tony Galante Producer - Brandon Robinson Production Manager - Brendan Lynch Production Coordinator - Federica Schiano Lomoriello 1st AD - Jesse Hays 2nd AD - Christina Mitchell PAs: Eric Cepeda Nick O’Neil Diego Lopez De Anda Zechariah Gonzalez Yuri Brito Brad Beltran

Cinematographer - Bryant Jansen 1st AC - Chris Macdonald 2nd AC - Loren Azlein VTR - Jeep Thatcher DIT - Daniel Woiwode Sound Mixer - Chase Yeremian BTS Photographer - Rachel Martin Gaffer - Tony Jou Best Boy Electric - Braden Barton Electricians: Tanner Johnson Tyler Billis Key Grip - Aaron Burton Best Boy Grip - Agyeman Johnson Grips: Hayden Miller Garrett Dorin

SFX Makeup - Ally McGillicuddy SFX Makeup Fabricator and Assistant - Caitlyn Brisbin MUA Assistant - Edwin Monzon Hair Stylist - Richard De Alba

Toti Costume - Abigail Keever Costume Stylist - Laura Francis Costume Assistant - Amy Fay

Production Designer - Joe Holliday Art Director - William O’Donnell Prop Master - Kate Simmons Set Decorator - Kassandra DeAngelis Set Dressers - Nick Jones Rebecca Steele Alice Ross Fabricator Assistants: Shannon Pollack Tara McNamara Graphics - Laurah Grivalja

Home Economist - Marah Abel Home Economist Assistant - Lisa Walgren Food Stylist Truck Driver - Richie Jacobo

Craft Services - Karla Maria Padilla Sustainability Coordinator - Nik Eco PA - Grace Hofmann Site Rep - Sean Location Manager - Percy Haverson

Sound Design and Mix - Evan Anderson Music - Tyler Monsein Lyrics and Singer - Emma Debany

Editorial - PS260  Editor - Tyler Hurst  Assistant Editor - Cole Wagner  Managing Partner - Zarina Mak  Executive Producer - Zeke Bowman Head of Production - Evann Payne 

Finishing - PS260 Producer - Yoko Lytle Flame Artist - Mark Popham Creative Director - Marcos Pacheco  Graphics Artist- Michael Yu Flame Artist - Stephanie Issacson   Color - Company 3 Colorist - Tim Masick Producer - Ryan Moncrief

Special Thanks to Sloane Skala and Josh Ferrazzano

[spatialwave]

𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.

“𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋”

pairing: angus tully x fem!reader | benny o’donnell x fem!reader word count: 8.2k summary: with the emporium not being the only form of entertainment for the night, you find yourself nestled in the backseat of a car with a group of boys, all so you could spend a few more minutes with a cute, but troubled football player. you had no idea the chaos that was brewing, but hopefully you'd score a beer or two. warnings/tags: underage drinking and drug use, use of homophobic slurs, bullying, verbal/physical fighting, jealousy, love triangle. notes: this took so long, but i tried my best to make sure i could pace it out well, i hope you enjoy. <3

(ao3 vers.)

<- chapter two. | chapter four. →

When you woke up on May 28th, 1976 you had expected a fun, but well-planned day. Wake up and get ready much earlier than normal so you could spend dedicated time on your hair, makeup and clothes. Once at school, you’d go to each class with a smile on your face and be thankful that it would all be over soon. Finish it all up with some ‘light’ hazing over the incoming freshman’s and make way for Pickford’s party so you could get plastered in celebration of summer.

It was an extremely easy plan that shouldn’t have had any fuck-ups, but that’s not how your life worked. You could plan your day with an itinerary and share it amongst all your closest friends, but they wouldn’t listen–you were a magnet of chaos. Hell, your friends were chaos.

Hazing hadn’t even concluded before you were running off with the boy you’d spent the past few weeks dreaming of, praying for his affection. Then, after the party fell through, you found yourself with Benny, his presence comforting for the first time. A new experience that left more to be desired.

Perhaps Kaye was right, had you become a walking cliché? 

It’s not like you’d meant to get involved with two boys, but you’ve heard this line many times in your life–the heart wants what the heart wants. You just happened to have two people digging into your chest, racing to claim it, and you weren’t sure who to open it for.

Angus Tully was one of the kindest boys you’d ever met, sure, a firecracker at times who despised authority in all forms, but he was kind. The first day you met him, he greeted you with a tiny smile and invited you to a poker night with Mike, Tony and Cynthia. You would never forget the way that invite, as small as it was for him, was huge for you–a light in the darkness for a girl who transferred schools in the middle of the year, fearing that she’d never make friends again.

Benny O’Donnell, well, he was a different story. You’d met him formally at a party at Shavonne’s place, a few beers in and looking for attention that he was more than happy to provide. That was the first night in a string of many where you learned each other’s bodies in ways that no one else had. It evolved into what you could only describe as casual hook-ups, although, there were blossoming feelings you’d tried to ignore.

It only became complicated when Angus came into the picture. When you finally decided to take him up on the offer of poker, a month before school ended. The plans had fallen through when Tony and Cynthia fell sick with a bad cold, and Mike said that he was bored by playing poker with only three people. Before you could withdraw for the night and rely on Benny for backup, Angus convinced you to spend the evening with him.

Unbeknownst to you, you fell for him that night. Hard.

It was easy to pretend like those feelings weren’t there, but you’d started cancelling on Benny more often and instead finding yourself in the passenger seat of Angus’ car. That was telling.

Now, you were in the backseat of Pickford’s car with a familiar hand on your thigh and the smell of weed strong in your nose. You weren’t sure how you let yourself get caught up in this mess, but the lack of willpower to speak your mind was the likely culprit.

Smacking your lips, you looked down at your feet when you feel something hard and cold against your sandal-clad foot. Your eyes dropped, and you blinked a few times in the darkness of the backseat as Pickford backed out of the spot at the Emporium. You furrowed your brows together and reached down, hands gliding over a smooth sphere, save for three holes in the top.

“Who’s bowling ball is this?” You asked curiously, picking up the heavy ball and resting it over your lap which had Angus pulling his hand away from you to make space for it. You quickly wished you left it down at your feet.

“Yours,” Jason said from the passenger seat, a grin on his lips as a flame illuminated his face while lighting the end of a half-assed rolled joint. 

You snorted a laugh as you rubbed your hands over the bowling ball, feeling the surface of it and relishing in the way it felt against your skin. You pulled your gaze up to look between the two boys in the front as you slowly slid closer to the middle seat, the bowling ball snug between your hip and the door. Your eyes then watched as Jason’s hand reached behind his headrest, joint in hand as he passed it to Angus.

Sitting closer to him now, you watched as he held the joint to his lips and inhaled. The embers at the end of it reddened, you were mesmerized by it—by him. By the way he pulled the joint away and parted his lips and inhaled the lingering, thick smoke that dared to escape. Your eyes were fixated on his lips, and you hadn’t realized how intently you were staring until your gaze flickered up, and you saw the smirk on Angus’ face just as he exhaled.

Straightening up slightly, your eyes were pulled away when another hand reached back behind the headrest, Pickford’s—offering you his lit joint.

You took it in your hands eagerly, inspecting how expertly it was rolled, and you imagined the way Michelle likely rolled this one. Carefully and meticulously, yet like it was no trouble at all.

“You a smoker?” Angus chuckled, his hand returning after he passed the roach back to Jason who smoked the rest until he threw it out the window.

“What? A lady can’t indulge?” You quipped in return, smiling as you brought it to your lips and inhaled with ease. The smoke filled your lungs, and you pulled the joint away, holding the smoke for a few seconds before parting your lips and letting it flow out of you and into the air—dissipating instantly from the wind coming in through the windows.

Your chest burned, but you didn’t cough, and you scrunched your face as you stifled it. 

“God,” you groaned before taking another small hit, quickly passing the joint back to Pickford as you exhaled once more, “And you?” You asked, turning to look at the boy sitting next to you, “Thought you weren’t supposed to be smoking or drinking… you know, that little pledge of yours, Mr. Quarterback.”

“Fuck that,” Angus huffed, “that pledge is bullshit.”

“Just sign the damn papers, man,” Jason jumped in the conversation, “It’s the least you can do, it’s not like we’re all going to turn into prudes tomorrow morning, we’ll still be having fun next year.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the issue,” the boy beside you grumbled, “It’s that we’re signing this stupid pledge and letting them have the upper hand over us. It’s so fucked that they think they can control us.”

Jason rolled his eyes, biting his tongue back from continuing the conversation.

You watched Angus as he spoke, the anger palpable. Silently, you reached a hand to rest on his thigh, his attention moving from the back of Jason’s head and to you, gaze softening. You squeezed his thigh, an action of reassurance––a familiar touch, one that he often gave you.

“Hey, hey!” Jason exclaimed, reaching an arm out and hitting the exterior of the car door, “pull over to the trashcan. Pull over!”

This was enough to perk up and gain your interest, leaning a bit forward in your seat as you watched Pickford slow down and pull over to the side of the road, but still moving. You hadn’t realized how high you’d gotten until your body couldn’t hold itself forward anymore and had to rest back into the seat, almost like you were glued to it.

And just like that, Angus’ attention was far from the pledge and instead focused on Jason with a big smile as his friend picked up said trashcan.

As you opened your mouth to ask what the hell his was doing, your eyes widened as he threw the trashcan at a mailbox as Pickford sped back up—destroying it completely. The boys whooped and cheered, but all you could do was sit there with an open mouth as you turned in your seat and looked back at the trash scattered on the person’s lawn, mailbox somewhere in the mix.

“This is what you do for fun?” You quirked an eyebrow at Angus, a permanent smile over your lips as your glossy eyes stared at him.

“Sorry if it isn’t up to your standards, my highness. Maybe you should learn to get off that high horse of yours and loosen up a little,” he grinned, rolling down his window as he watched your face turn into one of offense, “Slow down,” he called out to Pickford, leaning over and out the window carefully, “let me get this one!”

From your position beside him, you watched Angus with half-lidded eyes that glimmered with curiosity and interest. As if you were scared he’d fall out, you reached your hand so you could loop a finger into the belt buckle of his pants as he leaned out and grabbed onto the trashcan. You were able to get a better look this time as he picked up the metal bin, holding it a few inches off the ground as the car sped forward. Soon, he mustered up the strength to toss it at a mailbox that was decorated white, blue and red patriotically, immediately smashed into pieces.

Again, the boys cheered and whooped loudly––the car full of laughter as the sound of the rolling trashcan on pavement became quiet as you sped away from the scene of the crime. 

With a big smile on your face, you leaned back in your seat, now perfectly in the middle and nestled up against Angus like you’d been in this position many times before. It felt normal, his arm dangling over your shoulders and a grin on his lips as he smoked the last joint you’d four had been smoking. You couldn’t help but stare up at him in awe, watching as his curls became nothing but a mess because of the wind rushing in through the open windows. And how his cheeks flushed red when the smoke hit too hard and started coughing.

You could never have a nice, gentle moment, could you?

“The bowling ball––” Jason blurted out as he finished swallowing down half a beer, excitement radiating like it was a Nobel Prize idea. The teen turned around completely in his seat so he could look at you and point at the heavy bowling ball just to your left, a wide smile that made you uneasy. 

Your eyes travelled, settling on the globe. If you were sober, you’d be retorting at the blonde boy for having such a stupid idea, but you couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t think at all.

“The ball?” You questioned with furrowed brows, pulling away from Angus’ touch as you let your hands touch the surface of it again, picking it up and feeling the heaviness as it dropped on your lap, “You want me to throw it?” A laugh bubbled up from your throat at the mere idea.

“Fuck yeah, I do. Throw the goddamn ball.” Jason beamed, eagerly sitting closer and Pickford’s eyes watching from 

“Throw it,” Angus chimed in, leaning so close to you that you felt his words tickle your ear. 

Still, even as you neared a felony offense, you hadn’t had any urge to stop. You were a puppet to the boys right now, willing to do whatever they said to fit in. You were no better than your younger brother, who was likely doing the same thing back at the Emporium––though, your foggy mind kept you from overanalyzing the ‘why’ of it all.

All you could do was keep pushing forward, sliding your body until you were against interior of the car and head peaking out the window. The air was cool against your skin, offering relief that you didn’t know you needed from the heat of the car. Your eyes adjusted to your surroundings, a residential neighbourhood with rows of houses and mailboxes all waiting to be destroyed by a flying bowling ball. 

Knowing that your audience was waiting, you used all the strength that you could muster up in your altered state and pulled the bowling ball up until it was resting between you and the base of the car window. 

You wasted no time.

Within seconds, you took hold of the bowling ball and threw it, intending for it to smack the mailbox that was adorned in colour birds and butterflies, likely home to an elderly woman. Instead, you were greeted with the sounds of glass shattering as it landed right into the rear window of an old Cadillac.

Time slowed for a second, your eyes watching as the now-damaged vehicle passed by. Waiting to ruin an unfortunate soul’s morning when they realize their car has been subjected to high school shenanigans.

Your jaw dropped, and you pulled yourself back into the car, eyes wide and your high threatening to disappear as reality sunk in. Yep, you’d done it. You finally allowed peer pressure consume you to the point of vandalism and criminal offenses. So long to the scholarships you so desperately wanted, and hello to juvenile detention.

Your mother would cry when she found out, your father disowning you. Your younger brother would follow in your footsteps, becoming a menace and fitting in with the wrong crowd. Oh, and your grandmother––how would she react? You didn’t want to think about that.

Body frozen, you thinned your lips as your mind rambled, yet, at the same time, felt quiet. Your eyes flickered around, and you saw that the three boys all looked similar, but there was a hint of amusement. Pickford was fighting back a smile, and Jason was starting to snicker.

Angus was the first to erupt into a loud fit of laughter that the two other boys joined, leaving you speechless… and relieved. A small smile spread onto your face as your body relaxed into the leather seat, their laughter contagious as your emotions went from scared shitless to who-gives-a-flying-fuck!

“You’re nuts. Fucking nuts!” Pickford laughed, leaving you blushing under the attention as he reached his hand back for you to take. He shook your hand proudly, a big smile on his lips, as Jason cheered and looked around for a celebratory beer.

Even as your attention was enraptured by the two rowdy boys sitting up front, you noticed the way that Angus was smirking at you out of the corner of your faded vision. Lips pulled to the side lazily, his hand reaching to rest on the designated spot on your clothed thigh reserved solely for his touch.

Fuck. You squeezed your thighs together––the fluttering in your stomach mixed with the high was making you feel good.

“Hey!” Jason called out, grunting, “We’re outta’ beer, man. We have to make a stop at grab ‘n’ go.”

“I don’t have any money,” Pickford was prompt in his reply, hand tightening over the steering wheel as the car made a sharp turn toward the corner store.

“Who’s got money?” The blond spun in his seat, eyes flickering between you and Angus, leaving you doe-eyed and shrugging.

“I––” you stuttered, hands flying to your jean pockets and fingers digging inside, Angus following in suit.

Jason waved his hand in front of his face, turning around in his seat as, “Doesn’t matter, I’ll get it.”

“What are you going to do, hoist it?” Pickford asked as he slowed the car, shifting into park and twisting the keys in the ignition so the engine lulled.

“It’s all I ever do,” Jason retorted, turning around in his seat and grinning at you, “I just need a certain someone as a lookout.”

“Me?” You questioned quickly, looking over at Angus and feeling your body grow warm. Was throwing a bowling ball into someone’s vehicle not enough? Now you were being wrangled into petty thievery. 

“I don’t know about this, Jay,” Angus shifted in his seat uncomfortably, and you could see the worry on his face for getting you involved. That didn’t stop Pickford from getting out of the car, though, pulling his seat forward and giving you space to crawl out and be a lookout, so the group could score.

You inhaled a sharp breath, pulling your gaze from Angus and deciding that you’d do it. You were already in deep, you might as well get a beer or two out of this. 

“Be careful, darling,” Pickford grinned as you stepped out, smoothing down the halter top you wore that had ridden up your rib cage and exposed most of your stomach.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, stepping away from him and heading to the front of the store with Jason, feeling like you could definitely use more weed and beer to get rid of your sobriety. Being caught up in crimes was a sure way to get that hazy feeling out of your head, “I don’t know about this Jason,” you spoke softly, your arms wrapped around your stomach as you slowed down near the door, wide eyes looking up at him and pleading.

“Shh,” Jason shushed you, stopping in his footsteps and peaking around you to look over at Angus and Pickford, eyes settling on you again, “I’m going to pay for it, I’m just messing with them.” He smiled wide, immediate relief washing over you when you realized he was only trying to be ‘cool’ in front of the boys.

A quiet laugh came from you as you slid your hands into your back pockets, nodding at him as he walked inside the convenient store and pulled some bills out of his wallet.

You were given a moment of reprieve as you stood under the fluorescent lights of the store’s awning, tilting your head back and inhaling a deep breath of the late, summer air. It smelled like there was rain in the distance, and you wondered if tomorrow you’d be spending the day inside recovering from a hangover and listening to a thunderstorm. Not a terrible way to kick off the break––cozy and relaxed.

Your eyes closed as you relaxed, breathing slowly and listening to the distant sounds of Pickford and Angus chatting, likely about they’d be doing for the rest of the evening. The buzzing of the lights above you, the crickets that sounded like they were across the street in the grassy park.

The sound of the door opening startled you, having been lost in your thoughts for a few minutes while Jason had ‘stolen’ the goods. 

“Go, go, go!” He said to you, ducking down underneath the building windows and putting on a show for the others like he’d just stolen everything he held in his arms. Quickly, you turned on your feet and scrambled for the car, adrenaline coursing through your veins––even if this was pretend.

You hadn’t noticed the sound of tires screeching behind you as you slid into the backseat as Pickford leaned forward in the driver’s seat, only noticing someone else had arrived when a well-polished revolver was pointed at your face.

People lied when they say they see their life flash before their eyes in those fleeting moments before death because you didn’t see shit. All you saw was a huffy, angered man who was too unhinged for his own good. You didn’t get to witness all of your greatest moments one final time.

This sucked.

“Don’t try anything, or I’ll shoot the shit outta’ ya!” He growled at the group, pointing the gun now at Pickford and Jason.

As your heart leaped up into your throat, you felt arms wrap around your waist and heat press against your back. Angus held you tight, and you could feel how fast his heart was beating, too, as you put your hands over his and squeezed them until you felt like you would nearly break them.

“Jay, give him the money, man.” Pickford said as he lowered in his seat, eyes wide and focused on the blonde boy sitting ahead in the passenger seat.

“I paid for the beer, man.” He replied, staring down the barrel of the gun.

You squeezed at Angus’ hands again, trying your best to keep a steady breath and not spiral. It was difficult, though, because at any moment you feared the sounds of four gunshots and meeting with an untimely death. All because of what? What the hell did he want?

“You busted my mailbox, didn’t you?” He asked, hand shaking as he pointed the gun with fervour and intimidation. It worked––all of you shivering in fear and hoping the barrel wouldn’t point at you. “Look me in the eye, girl!” He snapped, pointing the gun to the back seat and in your face.

That’s when the image flashed through your head, the mailbox painted red, white and blue… scattered and broken on the lawn.

“I-I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you spoke, words shaky and heart racing, Angus’ arms around you providing no comfort when he couldn’t block a shot from going in your head, “I think you might’ve got us confus–”

“Huh?” He goaded loudly, now pointing the gun at Pickford, the silver barrel pushing against the boy’s nose, “Tamperin’ with mailboxes is a felony offense. Now, I done called the police…” The old man grunted, uncocking the gun and taking a step back, slowly. Your eyes flickered to the boy in the driver’s seat, and you noticed how his shoulders relaxed, but eyes still wide as he slowly turned to look at Jason––begging for an answer on what to do.

“I think you boys ought to get out of the car,” the man huffed, holstering the gun in his pants as he took a step back.

That’s when Angus clung to you tight as he leaned forward, whispering between Pickford and Jason, “Just get the fuck out of here,” he hissed, keeping his voice low, “go!”

It felt like everything else happened in the blink of an eye, your eyes flickered to see as the older man had reached forward and opened the driver’s door ajar in an attempt to coax you all out of the car. Then, you heard the sound of the engine roar after Jason shifted the gear into drive and Pickford slammed his food on the accelerator. 

“Go, go, go, go!” You shouted loudly, flying back against Angus as the car shot forward, and all you could hear was the sounds of the man yelling loudly as he tumbled back onto the pavement.

With wide eyes and smiles adorning your faces, both you and Angus turned around in your seats, watching as the man scrambled to his feet. Your lips had parted to shout something at him, some form of a ‘fuck you’, but you were greeted with a gunshot. The bullet missed the car entirely, but all of you still slid down to avoid any strays that could penetrate the windows.

“Holy shit!” You yelled loudly––Jason’s laugh louder––hands over your head as you kept your body sunken below the seat, glancing over to Angus, whose eyes were already on you. Two more shots missed the car, but by now the entire situation felt like a distant memory as you stared into those big brown eyes full of life and wonder, fear long gone now that you’d all escaped with nothing more than adrenaline pumping through your blood vessels.

Both Pickford and Jason were too caught up with each other, sharing a laugh over the old geezer who would be doing nothing but dealing with cops and unknowing who the hell to charge.

You, though, were completely enraptured by the boy next to you, a big smile on your face that matched his. Your heart skipped when he reached a hand forward, using it to tuck back some of your that had blown into your face from the breeze blowing through the open window. 

This was terrible timing, you knew it. You knew that driving away and being shot at by some crazy old man who loved his mailbox more than his wife was likely the worst time to realize how deeply in love you were with someone. But you couldn’t help it. 

Not when his long fingers brushed against your warm cheek, your skin tingling in its wake. Especially not when he leaned forward so slowly and left you completely breathless when his lips grazed against yours in a kiss that made your entire body shiver and ache for more. Your eyes closed, and you inhaled sharply through your nose as you two moved your lips together just barely—just enough to taste each other for a brief moment.

Nearly as quick as he’d done it, he pulled away with reddened cheeks and left you having to swallow down an audible whimper. 

It was a saving grace that Pickford or Jason didn’t notice, instead too fixated on passing the last remnants of the joint between each other––the smell of marijuana pulling you both away from the kiss you shared and back into the present. Feeling nothing short of awkward as Pickford reached forward and turned up the radio, so Low Rider could play loudly through the speakers.

Clearing your throat, you pulled away and sat up in your seat, your thumb brushing against your lip longingly, watching through the corner of your eye as Angus pulled away just as quickly, running a hand through his curls.

The rest of the car ride was silent between you two, sharing nothing more than the smallest of knowing smiles and wondering if this meant you’d be seeing more of each other later. The troubles of Elise and Benny were far from you––until the car pulled back into the Emporium’s lot and your eyes landed on the blond boy standing outside the building, cigarette between his lips and hands on his hips. He wore a long-sleeve striped button down and a blue ball cap snug on his head, an outfit you’d seen him wear on many other party nights. Discernible as his ‘nice’ outfit.

The more you stared at him, the more you had begun to realize that he wasn’t… well––he wasn’t Angus. You felt terrible, staring at him from the darkened backseat, watching the sparkle in his eyes when those blue eyes flickered over and landed on you. 

It wasn’t until you felt the pressure removed from your thigh that you realized Angus had already slid out from the backseat, dipping inside the Emporium with Jason tagging along. Abandoning you, so you could have your time with Benny. 

As you moved out from behind the driver’s seat, your fingers brushed your lips again absentmindedly. Angus’ lips were softer than you imagined and had tasted of cheap beer, a taste that wasn’t new to you, but was heavenly coming from him.

“Hey!” A girl’s voice called to you as you shut the car door behind you, your hand quickly dropping from your lips and instead shoving it deep into the pocket of your jeans, “I heard you got shot at by some old geriatric.” Shavonne laughed, leaning up against the side of Pickford’s car, a cigarette snug between her fingers.

“News travels fast,” you returned, chewing on your bottom lip as you took the cigarette and indulged in a drag, “It was insane. I don’t know why I let myself get caught up with them.”

The blonde took back her cigarette begrudgingly, taking the last drag before stomping it out with her shoe on the ground, “I don’t know why you’re complaining, you’ve got messy hair and red cheeks. You look like you had the best time of your life,” she said to you, narrowing her eyes slightly as she looked deep into yours, “and you’re high as hell.”

“Am not,” you protested, the effects of the weed long gone.

“Don’t lie to me, girl,” she giggled––her teasing sending a shiver down your spine as it reminded you of the old man who had said the same thing moments earlier. She shoved you playfully with her hand before reaching up and fixing some of your misplaced hair, “I suppose a gun in my face would sober me up too.”

“The problem is that I don’t want to be sober anymore,” you huffed, arms crossing over your chest as you let her fix you up, pursing your lips.

“Join the club. Nobody wants to be sober.”

Once inside the Emporium, you managed to score a beer from Teddy. One of the few perks of being linked to Benny––free beer and sexual relief when you needed. You knew better than to complain.

As you stood off to the side, watching Teddy, Mel, Wooderson and Benny indulge in a game of pool, you found yourself growing restless and bored. Stuck here with nothing better to do but watch. You could sense that the others were beginning to feel this way too, the most excitement tonight was coming from Pickford, Angus and Jason who were making their rounds in the Emporium and telling the story of how you’d all been chased by a gun-wielding maniac.  

Your eyes settled on the brunet across the room, watching Angus as he closely stood next to Elise––a big smile on his face as Pickford retold the story again to her and Darla with animated movements. Your jaw clenched when your eyes moved downward, seeing the way his hand had snuck behind the girl’s body, much too low to be resting on her back.

With half a beer reigniting the fire in you, you nearly pushed yourself away from the wall and started a scene… until a certain someone stopped you.

“So, you’re a tough girl now?” Benny said, standing a few feet away from the pool table and in front of you, leaning against the cue stick.

“Huh?” You scrunched your face as you looked up at him, blinking through the confusion.

“A tough girl,” he said, “You know? Running away from an old fuck with a loaded gun?”

“Oh, right,” you smiled, shaking your head slightly, “Sorry… I spend one car ride with Pickford and my mind is fucked from the weed,” you carefully avoided the truth, thankful for the distraction from Angus.

“Don’t turn into a stoner on me now,” Benny grinned, looking you up and down, “you have too much potential for that.”

“Oh, a girl can’t smoke once in a while and get chased by someone with a gun without ruining her potential?” You returned the smile, one hand on your hip and the other tucking the can of beer against your halter-covered chest.

“Now you’re twisting my words around,” he chuckled lowly in his throat, the sound making a chill run up your spin as you watched him turn around and strike a ball perfectly into one of the corner pockets, “fuck yeah!” He cheered, sharing a big smile with Kountze, his pool partner.

“Hey, kid,” you heard Mel start speaking, noticing him whispering over to your younger brother and slipping him a couple dollar bills. You watched as your brother’s eyes widened, a smile on his face as he left.

“You get freshman to do your beer runs?” You asked him, quirking an amused eyebrow as you stepped closer to the pool table, looking down at the game that he was losing at as Teddy took a shot.

“Sure do,” he flashed a smile at you, “Don’t worry about him. One day he’ll be doing the exact same thing.”

“Mhm, sure,” you nodded cheekily, taking another sip of your beer and staying close to Benny’s side.

With an entire beer in your system, and another couple hits of a joint, you’d happily forgotten about Angus and Elise now. The anger that had accumulated inside you and was ready to burst had vanished, and you were left only with a buzz that left a smile on your face. You held a cue stick in your hands as Teddy took another shot, loudly cursing when the cue ball struck nothing, leaving you trying to hide a laugh as Benny helped you make a shot for him.

“Benny, just shoot yourself man, I don’t want to lose.” Teddy grumbled from the side, a frown on his face as he looked at you with what you could only discern as disgust. You had no idea how this man still managed to stay afloat in the social ranks.

“Don’t be a prick,” you said to him, but Benny was quick to pull your attention back to the pool game before you and Teddy could go head-to-head in a screaming match.

“C’mon, lean over,” he whispered, guiding you with a hand on the small of your back as he took in a deep breath, pressing you forward until your chest was nearly pressed against the cue stick parallel to the table. Your face felt hot underneath the lamp that lit up the pool table, lighting you up perfectly as several people watched and waited for you to shoot.

“Like this?” You asked quietly, gliding and balancing the stick along the skin between your pointer finger and thumb.

“Yeah, just like that,” Benny knelt down beside you, just enough to get a levelled look at your play. His hand gently rubbed the skin of your lower back, soothing, “Go for the hit.”

Your nose scrunched as you pulled back on the cue stick and slid it forward with a quick ‘snap’. The cue ball rolled forward and crashed into the eight-ball––the one you were trying to avoid. With a look of horror, you quickly pulled yourself upright as you sunk it perfectly into the middle pocket before you could get rid of all the solids, ending Benny and Teddy’s game against Wooderson and Melvin with a loss.

“God fucking dammit,” Teddy groaned, “You might possibly be the worst pool player I’ve ever seen in my life. Seriously.” 

“Suck a dick,” you retorted angrily at the boy, sneering in his direction as Benny laughed and so casually wrapped an arm around your waist. You noticed the foreign touch quickly, eyes widening slightly, but refusing to look up at him and allowing your surprise to be caught by him. 

What you hadn’t noticed, however, was the glare being shot into the back of your head none other by Angus Tully, who had been standing with Jason a few pool tables down. Those brown eyes were full of jealousy and rage as he clenched his jaw and hands balled into fists, watching too closely at how Benny’s fingers had teasingly dipped into the hem of your halter top along your waist.

You did your best to remain as cool and as casual as you could, thankful that your brother had returned with the score of beer for Melvin so you could focus on something else other than the blond’s large, calloused hand over the exposed skin of your waist. Leaving you shivering at his touch and silently praying for more.

Your head was far in the gutter.

“Benny––” Teddy snapped, “come on, let’s play another, you and me.”

“Weirdo,” you breathed out under your breath, looking over your shoulder as Teddy walked away and started provoking two other boys into playing a game against them. You looked up at Benny and you could see in his eyes how he was trying his hardest to pretend like he wasn’t desperately wanting to go play another round, “go on,” you laughed softly, pulling away from his touch, “I’ll go find Shavonne and Kaye.” 

“I’ll catch you later, right?” He asked you, grinning from ear-to-ear as he took a few steps back.

“Yes,” you smiled, waving him away. As you turned on your heel to find your friends in the sea of teens, your eyes met with Angus’ and you sensed exactly what he felt because you’d been looking at him with those same eyes when he was with Elise earlier. Sharp and narrow.

The energy between you was tense, not hostile… but it was sharp. Electric. Jealous. Desire.

You puffed out your chest proudly and walked yourself out of the Emporium with a swaying in your hips as if to take a stab at him, as if somehow he’d sense exactly what you felt. It was so incredibly childish because you both had taken one small step forward with that kiss, only to jump back three paces the moment you felt an ounce of jealousy.

Teen dramatics were a curse.

The moment you were outside, you were able to take in a deep breath, one that expanded your lungs fully and left you able to think clearly for once. “Fuck.” You murmured shakily to yourself as you closed your eyes tight, feeling the cool night breeze on your hot skin, unaware of what was happening just across the street. 

A plan concocted by your younger brother.

“Move–” you were rudely interrupted by the voice of Teddy Kountze. The bastard practically knocking you aside as he ran to his car and grabbed his paddle.

“Watch where you’re going!” You grumbled as you caught your feet, watching with sharp, angry eyes as he ran over to the other side of the road to the machine shop––you could just barely make out the boy being leaned up against the large shop door. Carl… something. A friend of your brother’s.

You cringed to yourself as you walked forward to the corner of the Emporium, listening to the foul language that Kountze was spitting at the poor boy. It made you wonder what your brother had gone through earlier that evening at the hands of him. Speaking of the devil, with your arms crossed over your chest, you looked over your shoulder to see your brother standing behind you, with Wooderson and Angus lingering a few steps behind. 

“That’s your friend?” You asked him, furrowing your brows together.

“Yeah,” He murmured, doing a good job at pretending like he was worried. 

A crowd had started to form just outside the Emporium, tens of eyes watching the scene unfold as Teddy took his precious time, eating up the situation slowly and savouring every last bit of fear coming from the freshman. You could barely make out what he was saying, but you could see the sinister smile on his lips. That man was pure evil.

Though, just as he was preparing for the first of many paddles, your eyes flickered up, and you saw two kids leaning over the roof of the shop with something large in their hands. You were having a hard time connecting the dots, leaning closer as if you would get a better look at them.

Your eyes widened when you saw the paint, watching the white liquid trickle out of the can and splash onto Teddy’s hair. Only enough to get his attention. 

“Holy shit,” you grinned, your entire expression brightening up as he lifted a hand to touch the paint in his hair.

“Remember me, you pig?” One of the boys asked loudly from the rooftop, only now seeing that they were also friends of your brother. They began imitating the sounds of squealing pigs as Teddy looked up at them, only to be greeted with an entire bucket of white paint which splashed onto him, covering all of his hair, most of his face and shirt. It left him so vulnerable and pathetic. A small, small man.

You burst into laughter, hell, most of the people around had. If there was anything most people could agree on, it was that Teddy Kountze was a fucking asshole and deserved this.

“Fuckin’ freshman, bastards!” He screamed, pushing the white paint out of his eyes and watching as the kids dropped from the side of the roof and ran to a car that quickly sped off. He walked over to the other senior boys in the class who had been firstly trying to paddle Carl, turning the blame to them, “Jesus! You let that little fuck get away! What’s the matter with you? It’s fucking pitiful!” He shouted at them, turning his anger away from the boys and instead looking over in your direction.

Your brother’s direction.

He began walking across the street, eyes scouring over the crowd that watched, eyes landing on your brother as he narrowed in and chose his next target. It was never Teddy Kountze’s fault.

“What are you smiling at? You little freshman faggot? Huh?!” He walked right past you, reaching out and shoving at your brother so hard he nearly tumbled to the ground.

“Don’t fucking touch him, you pig,” you swore at Kountze, your heart pounding hard in your chest. No one was allowed to treat your brother like that. Absolutely fucking no one. 

You reached forward and grabbed at the wet fabric of his shirt, pulling him back hard enough that his attention had gone from your brother and landed right on you. The look in his eyes was wild, crazier than the man who had been pointing a revolver in your face. Teddy Kountze, too, might be more dangerous.

“You step the fuck back,” he warned you through a deep grunt, taking a few taunting steps forward so that you had to back up, “What are you doing to do? Hit me? Stand up for your pathetic little brother?” He teased you, close enough that you could smell the beer radiating from him. Kountze was an angry drunk.

“Don’t take your anger out on the freshman just because you’re an idiot who’s too dumb to graduate.” You quipped, hearing the ‘oohs’ coming from the crowd that gathered around. It was a brave statement coming from you because you knew that it would only take a few seconds for him to blow.

You were almost certain that Teddy Kountze wouldn’t be afraid to hit a woman. 

“You shut your whore mouth. Sluts shouldn’t talk––”

Your fist moved faster than your brain, eyes widening when your knuckles made contact with his jaw and pain shot up through your arm. Immediately, you winced in pain, but before you could continue taking your pent-up anger out at him, you felt someone pull you back, while Wooderson pulled Teddy away.

“Didn’t know you were a fighter,” Angus breathed into your ear, you could feel the smirk on his lips as he tugged you back as you tried to wrestle yourself out of his grip to get back at the paint-covered senior. You gave up very quickly, though, when you saw Kountze pulling away from Wooderson.

“Ah, fuck you! Fuck everyone here!” Kountze yelled as he pulled himself away from everyone and stomped to his car. For his final statement and burst of anger, he took the paddle and smashed it onto the ground until it split it in half––tossing it aside before angrily getting inside his car and speeding away in shame.

The crowd had turned to laughter again, a few people telling you ‘good job’, but you didn’t feel like it was a good job. Your hand felt like it had shattered, and the bruising had already started, and now you were wrapped in Angus’ arms wanting nothing more than to spin around and finish the kiss he’d left you with.

You were a mess. Everything was a mess, and you could hardly think straight.

You were a flurry of emotions now, taking a quick, but longing, glance at Angus before pulling away from his grasp and heading right toward your brother––he was far more important right now.

“Hey, are you okay?” You asked him, reaching up to touch his cheek, but he pushed it away.

“Don’t,” he laughed, “it’s covered in paint!”

“Sorry,” you smiled, crinkling your nose down at your hand that had paint smeared on it from the punch you’d just landed on Teddy.

“I’m fine,” he added, “that was badass… but I think he’ll probably hate me for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah, probably,” you breathed out your nose, feeling apologetic for the complications you’d been getting your brother in, “I guess I’ll just have to punch him if he tries something again. Maybe he’ll learn his lesson.” 

You both shared a laugh––a gentle moment you both needed during this wild night.

Soon, Mitch’s attention had been taken away by a blonde sophomore girl, leaving you with a small smile at the prospect of your younger brother running in the same crowd with you now. You had long disappeared from the chaos of the night, having met up with Kaye and Shavonne in the quiet washroom as you cleaned yourself up and shared a cigarette with your girls. You promised yourself that you’d spend the next while with them, you seemed to get way too caught up in trouble with anyone else… you could use some time to breath and think over everything that had happened.

Everything about Angus.

“The moon tower?” You asked as you finished touching up your lipstick that you borrowed from Shavonne, noticing in the mirror how your knuckles were nicely bruised, “I don’t think I’ve ever been there.” 

“Really?” Kaye questioned, taking a long-needed drag, “I would’ve thought that you and Benny would frequent it a lot… but I guess the floodlight there doesn’t give much privacy for young love, does it?”

“Ha. Ha.” You faked a laugh, “If you must know, we usually have the decency of fucking behind closed doors.” You chided, smacking your lips together a few times before blotting on some paper towel, returning the lipstick to Shavonne.

“So, you and him are still a thing, then?” Your short-haired friend asked, smirking as she passed the cigarette to you.

“Well, I don’t know,” you shrugged with a slight frown, passing it over to Shavonne, not wanting to ruin your lipstick, “What do you want me to say to that?”

“Well, what happened to you and Angus?” She tilted her head, “I don’t think I’ve seen you two interact since you got back from that… joyride.”

“What are you, a stalker?” You prodded at her, “We actually saw each other outside, just before I came in.”

“Really?”

“... Yeah. Kind of.”

“Quit being a prude and fucking tell us! What happened?” Shavonne exclaimed loudly, tired of you beating around the bush, as she took one more drag and tossed the cigarette into the wet sink.

You stood in the middle of the washroom with your arms crossed over your chest, fingers digging into the skin of your forearms as your two closest friends stared daggers into you. Forming the right words in your head was hard because you weren’t exactly sure just how much you should share, or if they would judge you––but the words slipped out so quickly.

“We kissed, okay!” You admitted, your gaze flickering between them, “We kissed in the backseat after that guy pointed his gun in my face. It happened so quick and then… we got awkward about it. I don’t know. Now I feel like we’re just… waiting to see who caves first,” you felt your cheeks warm up, “and I liked it… and I want it to happen again.”

“God. One just isn’t enough for you, is it?” Kaye teased, her voice gentle to show she hadn’t meant anything negative. If anyone was your real best friend, it was her.

“Well, we better get our asses to the moon tower, then.” Shavonne grinned excitedly, licking over her teeth as she pushed herself off of the sink counters, wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you along as Kaye followed, “You, my friend, need a shit ton of beer so you can stop being such a worry wart and finally make the first move.”

A quiet laugh bubbled up from you, knowing that even if she was a bit wild-spirited and acted on impulse, there was truth behind those words. You know that before this night ended, you needed to kiss him again––and preferably on your own terms.

Shortly after, you had settled into the backseat of the car, sitting up on the back of the seat with Sabrina by your side. You were giddy—thankful that there was finally something to do instead of just mayhem after mayhem. An actual party where you could drink, smoke and maybe dance if someone played music loud enough. 

A real graduation party.

Just as Kaye backed out of the parking lot, you looked over at the Emporium’s entrance once last time and your eyes settled on Angus Tully as he stepped out of the doors with Jason close behind, hands tucked into the front of his pockets. Everything felt slow as you drove past, your eyes fixated on his as you two shared a knowing look.

Angus winked and left you with a tiny smile on your lips and butterflies swirling in your stomach.

You both wanted each other, desperately.

[amostexcellentblog]

But THR, suspecting that’s painting with too broad a brush, and aware that many usually busy people had some time on their hands during the first simultaneous strike of actors and writers in 63 years, reached out to hundreds of distinguished members of the global film community and asked them to share their picks for the greatest books related to film — autobiographies, biographies, novels, how-to, making-of and every other sort — factoring in quality, impact and influence. They each received a “ballot” listing some 1,200 notable titles, plus slots for write-ins.

Among the 322 respondents were directors (including Steven Spielberg, Ava DuVernay, Oliver Stone, John Waters and Celine Song); actors (Liza Minnelli, Alec Baldwin, Laura Dern, Colman Domingo and Sarah Paulson); producers (Jerry Bruckheimer and Amy Pascal); writers (Tom Stoppard, Paul Schrader and John Mulaney); executives (David Zaslav, Sherry Lansing, Michael Barker, Tom Rothman and Bela Bajaria); documentarians (Ken Burns, Sheila Nevins and Errol Morris); animators (Floyd Norman); composers (Nicholas Britell); agents (Toni Howard); the heads of the Academy, Academy Museum, Golden Globes, BAFTA, MPA, AFI, American Cinematheque, Black List, Alamo Drafthouse theater chain and Sundance, Toronto and Karlovy Vary film festivals; journalists (Maureen Dowd, Graydon Carter, Roxane Gay, David Remnick, Lynn Hirschberg, Michael Wolff and Lawrence O’Donnell); film critics; academics; and, yes, a host of top authors of film books.

There have previously been “greatest film books” surveys of some of these constituencies, but never all of them, and never of this size and scope. It’s with the hope that THR readers will be inspired to check out these books and learn more about the art form and business that we cover that we proudly present — in order from fewest votes to most — the 100 greatest film books of all time (click here for a printable checklist), as chosen by the people who would know best.

[vickiabelson]

Today Live! Having served as head writer for Joan Rivers, Joy Behar, Rosie O'Donnell, and Barry Manilow, Larry Amoros holds court on Facebook and makes my day. My God, I love to laugh! And Larry tickles that bone daily. 

I met Larry a lifetime ago in New York when he was a hotshot stand-up and I… was not. I have little doubt that he has no memory of me other than perhaps hearing that Gabe Abelson married me. 

An acclaimed ghostwriter and collaborator, Larry has put three books on The New York Times Best Seller List: I Hate Everyone Starting with Me, with the late Joan Rivers; The Book of Joan: Tales of Mirth, Mischief, and Manipulation, with Melissa Rivers; and, Diary of a Mad Diva, which garnered Joan Rivers a posthumous 2015 Grammy Award for Best Spoken Word album. His current collaboration with Melissa Rivers, Lies My Mother Told Me has just been released.

Larry recently collaborated with Joy Behar on her acclaimed humor book, The Great Gasbag: An A to Z Guide to Surviving Trumpworld, and with Bianca del Rio on her outrageous hit, Blame It on Bianca del Rio: An Opinion on Everything from an Expert on Nothing.

Larry had a ten-year run writing on ESPN’s ESPY Awards, as well as working on numerous other sports broadcasts, including The NASCAR Awards and The NHL Awards. For a number of years, he was part of the writing staff of The Mark Twain Prize for American Humor, and in 2016, he served as Creative Producer/Head Writer of A Tribute to Joan Rivers, at The Kennedy Center, in Washington, D.C.

Larry has also worked on many TV series and specials, including HLN’s The Joy Behar Show (Senior Writer), The Rosie O’Donnell Show (Senior Writer), The Nanny, the newsmagazine, California Connected and Barry Manilow’s Emmy Award-winning PBS Special, Music & Passion.

Larry has served as Creative Consultant for Barry Manilow’s World Tours since 1992 and has written special material for Barry’s 2014 and 2019 Broadway runs. 

It’s been a particularly tumultuous week, now blissful - what better way to celebrate than with the funny? And, with whom better than Larry? FYI. he’s also gracious and kind. After many, many weeks of music, which has been wonderful fun, this left turn is gonna be a gas. The no $, no odor, good kind.  Can’t wait to finally really meet this funnyboy!    

Larry Amoros Live on Game Changers with Vicki Abelson

Wed, February 8, 5 pm PT, 8 pm ET

Streaming Live on The Facebook

Daily by Toni Vincent & @peter_and_paul_ Cartoons

[miralsail]

News anchor salary

#News anchor salary tv#

The Daily Beast reported earlier this month that Sures’ attempt was “rebuffed” because Licht “could not negotiate before his start date” on May 2.Ī source close to CNN, however, told The Post that O’Donnell was “never under consideration” to join the network. Meanwhile, it is rumored that O’Donnell’s camp leaked to the press that Sures had reached out to incoming CNN boss Chris Licht about hiring the anchor. CBS News co-president Neeraj Khemlani has been in cost-cutting mode since he joined the company last year. Tensions rose so high that her agent, UTA co-president Jay Sures, went over Khemlani’s head to negotiate her contract with CBS CEO George Cheeks and Shari Redstone, the chairwoman of CBS parent Paramount Global, sources said.Īccording to one well-placed source, O’Donnell had been “telling everybody how close she’d gotten to Redstone” during the contract negotiations. However, sources said the thinly veiled job search damaged O’Donnell’s reputation and infuriated her team. Apparently, the more false stories the NY Post writes, the better things go for CBS News.” 1 news broadcasts and finished the season with multiple shows including morning and evenings in their most competitive position ever. “While there are huge prime time openings elsewhere in the News industry, CBS News has the No. Neeraj led the effort to retain and re-sign about a dozen of our biggest anchors and correspondents over the last year including Norah O’Donnell and Gayle King - and recruited a few new ones like Nate Burleson and Robert Costa,” the spokesperson said. And shortly after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, CBS News again set tongues wagging by initially sending Dokoupil instead of O’Donnell to Poland to cover the unfolding war.Ī spokesperson for CBS News denied Khemlani was seeking to dump O’Donnell. Insiders said Dokoupil’s candidacy was particularly galling for O’Donnell, as Khemlani in January assigned the 41-year-old morning show host to anchor a special broadcast from from Washington, DC, on the anniversary of the Jan. He also considered NBC’s Craig Melvin and, as reported by The Post, even mulled promoting Tony Dokoupil, her old co-anchor at “CBS Mornings,” to the role. Khemlani reached out to former MSNBC anchor Brian Williams, who turned him down, according to a report from CNN. CBS via Getty Images “CBS Evening News”Īnchor Norah O’Donnell took a steep pay cut amid restructuring at the network. Norah O’Donnell took a steep salary cut amid speculation that the network was searching for her replacement. Insiders said O’Donnell’s capitulation came after months of clashes with Neeraj Khemlani, the sharp-elbowed, cost-slashing co-president of CBS News who had been openly looking for a new anchor to replace her during the months before her contract was up in April. When she accepted it, some executives appeared surprised, the source added. “CBS Evening News” anchor Norah O’Donnell’s pay package got slashed by more than half this spring amid a brutal round of cost cuts at the third-place network, The Post has learned.Īccording to insiders, CBS News re-signed the 48-year-old anchor in April with a yearly salary of $3.8 million - down from the previous $8 million - following reports that the network had been casting around for a replacement as O’Donnell’s ratings continue to sag.ĬBS execs gave O’Donnell a “low ball” offer during the hard-knuckle negotiations, which they “expected O’Donnell to reject,” according to a source briefed on the talks. Wade questionĬBS News correspondent and Army veteran Richard Wagner dead at 85 VP Harris mocked for ‘word salad’ answer to Roe V.

#News anchor salary tv#

How Gayle King may have leaked details of her new CBS mega-contractĪnchor takes us behind the scenes of TV news

[deavydealer]

not @ me falling in love with men i’ve never met

[downthetubes]

British Comics Fandom Flashback! Fantasy Advertiser #75, from 1982 (with added Grant Morrison)

Online discussion of comics takes many forms, but none so enjoyable at times than a trip down memory lane – and over this surreal Easter weekend, one Facebook thread I kickstarted led back to the early 1980s. Discussion that revealed a fascinating snapshot of British comics fandom back in 1982, when Grant Morrisonhad only begun to deliver his take on the superhero genre, comic shops were…