#Craig’s accent is still horrible
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Guess who made their mom watch The Glass Onion at 3pm and pester her with details and predictions (most of which were correct, btw)
#glass onion#benoit blanc#daniel craig#dave bautista#it is an amazing film btw#it’s so fucking good#it’s so great#and it looks like the actors had a lot of fun as well#which just makes it better#Craig’s accent is still horrible#but it adds to the charm#also Phillip is fuckin amazing#absolutely stole the show#along with what’s his name#Harold or smth#no plot relevance at all but they stole my heart#<3#great movie#the glass onion
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The Kindest Team Guy (TKTG)
IT'S HERE! PART 1 TO THE KINDEST TEAM GUY, my Navy Sealrry AU! ENJOY!
-Ava
TKTG Masterlist
(image not mine, the white suit was giving me Navy dress white vibes tho)
One
Growing up, you were always around the same people, your mom had up and left shortly after you turned two, after that it was you and your dad. At the time, your father's call sign was 7 alpha 3, the demo guy, but that was when he was deployed and you were staying with Raina and her mom.
By the time you were 8, your dad was 7 Alpha 1, Master Chief Brian Fraiser. Your dad's team was your family. Heck to you they were your uncles. There was uncle Mitch-7 alpha 2 and Raina's dad. Uncle Jensen-7 alpha 3 (he was always the fun one, snuck you extra dessert), Uncle Craig-7 alpha 4 (he was gruff, but also a softie), Uncle Andy-7 alpha 5 (he was your favorite, because whenever he was there, so was Cheddar), Cheddar was uncle Andy's dog and the team K-9, Uncle Derrick-7 alpha 6, Uncle Dante-7 alpha 7, and Uncle Shane-7 alpha-8.
During a highly classified mission gone wrong shortly before your 16th birthday, your dad lost his life getting the rest of his team out safely. When the team returned to Coronado his body was in a pine wood box, a flag draped over the top. Now this easily could've been the traumatic life event that sent you spiraling into the world of drugs, alcohol, and all of that other horrible stuff, but it wasn't, at least not immediately. You graduated high school top of your class, you attended MIT and graduated with honors. And then you moved back home to Coronado, California. Uncle Mitch was now 7 Alpha 1 and you begged and pleaded with him to give you answers about what happened to your dad. You got the same hero speech from him and everyone else on Alpha team, including the new demo guy Harry who had just finished green team. Your formal request to the base and up the chain of command went absolutely nowhere. And finally after a year of begging for answers the right way, you turned to what you knew best, hacking.
You started small just to make sure your skills were still as sharp as could be. You chased down lead after lead after lead. Every single last tiny breadcrumb, until finally it clicked for you, all you'd need to really break open the system was access, and what better way to get it than by exploiting your connection to Seal Team 7 Alpha.
Harry was definitely the easiest mark, he knew of you but he didn't know you the way the rest of the team did, plus he was still a single male in his late twenties who enjoyed getting his dick wet. You took your time setting the trap, making it foolproof, all the way down to the strappy red top, denim miniskirt, white converse low tops and the perfect red lipstick. You walked into the cookout looking like straight fire and Harry ate it up, plus the other guys knew that Harry was one of the good ones and thus actually kind of encouraged the two of you, after all a six year age gap was nothing compared to Derrick and his new wife's 16 year age difference.
Harry asked you out on a date the very next day. To your surprise he set the bar quite high, after all he took you to Il Fornaio. He also didn't try to hide where you were going, he knew that wasn't the place you show up to in jeans and an old Coronado Amphibious Base t-shirt. Honestly, had you not been playing him, you could've seen yourself falling for him then and there. Harry was a gentleman at dinner and he insisted on holding your heels for you while the two of you just walked along the beach. He had gorgeous soft green eyes, currently trimmed dark brown curls, tattoos littered across his body like most other SEALs, and a smooth deep British accent that you found out came from his mother, his parents were divorced and he always enjoyed visiting his green beret father in the US, he had held dual citizenship almost his entire life. He told you how his father's line went back to the very first class of green berets and his decision to become a SEAL was hard on their relationship. His father was proud of course, him choosing to serve the US, but always made comments on how being a green beret wasn't good enough for Harry. In all truth, Harry just wanted to forge his own path. He was not his father and though he admired his service and bravery, Harry just wanted to carve his own way, leave the Styles name out of things.
Harry was also a very bright person as you found out, you knew he had to be in order to be a demolitions and explosives expert, but he wasn't just that kind of bright, Harry was quite the colorful person. He wore a black button up with lavender colored shorts, black gazelles, and had pink rimmed aviators folded on his not even half buttoned shirt, having undone another three since the two of you started your walk.
A chaste goodnight kiss outside your apartment building led to a deep, heated one and an invitation upstairs that he gladly accepted. Harry was strong enough to just toss you and your mildly curvy self around with ease, as was evidenced by how he quite literally just lifted your feet up off the elevator floor and threw you over his shoulder nonchalantly asking which way to your door. You kept your eyes on the way all the muscles in his back flexed as he walked and the firm ass hiding behind those shorts. You could honestly just tell that you were about to be ruined for other men, which sucked because you knew you wouldn't be able to see this one again. When he stopped in front of your door you gave his ass a quick smack just to confirm your suspicions.
"Heaven help me, even his ass is all muscle." You whispered to yourself, apparently not quiet enough though because a deep chuckle emerged from Harry.
"I'm a SEAL, and underwater explosives are one of my favorite things to handle, of course my ass is muscle." He continued, setting you upright so you could unlock your door.
"And not even a little bit cocky about it either." You commented back.
"You haven't seen me anywhere close to cocky yet love." He answered, pulling your back flush against his front. You moaned at the feeling of his well endowed package against the fleshy curves of your ass.
“I’m looking forward to it.” you said while opening your door.
Immediately after stepping over the threshold, harry had your door closed, locked, and your front pressed against it. He gave you a quick swat on the rear and moaned at the sight.
“Fuck,” he cursed before kissing you again. Harry’s mouth demanded access and you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to(which you didn't).
“Har, touch me, please.” You practically begged, having had enough of your teasing banter for one night.
“So desperate you can’t even say both syllables of m'name anymore.” He taunted you before quite literally ripping your dress off your body, the black lace set you wore underneath was stunning on you but it didn’t stand a chance when set between the man and achieving complete mission success. It was like watching a singular piece of paper go through an industrial grade shredding machine, or ripping a flimsy receipt in half, there one second, completely gone the next. The sting from the snap of the thong sent tingles to all the right places. A quick glance up showed Harry still fully clothed as your fingers rushed to even the score.
“Well, go on then, get rid of it, know you wanna touch them, I saw you eyeing my ink.”
“It’s just… they’re just so… i just want to lick them all.” you stuttered at first before just letting it out. Harry’s eyes darkened even more as you shoved the shirt off his broad shoulders and pushed him onto your bed. You immediately climbed over him and lazily traced the ‘17 Black’ tat with your tongue before moving inwards to the swallows and down to the butterfly. Harry rid himself of his shorts while you took your sweet time on the butterfly loving the way his muscles tensed and relaxed as you swept your tongue over the lines of ink. You heard his breath catch as you reached the laurels and wet them before jumping straight to the tiger. You took a bold chance and scraped your teeth along the tiger as you made your return to his brief covered cock that is definitely leaking if the wet patch on said briefs is anything to go by. You take a hot second to feel him up over the cloth restraint before taking his cock out and looking up at him.
You bat your eyes innocently and descend, wrapping your lips around him. Up, down, hold. That’s the pattern you use, after a bit you take him further, brushing your nose against the littered hairs and running your tongue along his sac.
“FUCK.” you hear him curse and you smile before popping off for a breath. Harry pulls you up and smothers your lips with his, one hand wound in your hair and the other kneading your ass. With a quick smack he rolls so you’re pinned under him. “My turn for a taste.”
With that he lowers his face to your tits, licking and suckling until they both stand at attention for him. Leaving his hands to play, he continues south until he is right over your dripping cunt. Harry is not the jump right in and get it done kind of guy. Well, that's not true because he can be if he wants to be, or if his companion for the night begs him enough. But tonight is not one of those nights. He starts slow, completely avoiding the spots he knows you want him most. Instead going for your plush thigh, trailing his tongue down further still he presses quick kisses from the back of your knee all the way down to your ankle before repeating his movements going up the other leg.
By the time he reaches your mound again, you're a panting, whimpering, moaning mess and he loves it. Would bottle up those sounds and replay them over and over again when he needs to get himself off.
Harry continues to tease you, pressing the softest barely there kisses all over your soaked pussy.
"More, Harry, please, I need more, FUCK!" You cry out until at long last he sucks your clit right into his mouth, pops off after just a second and dives head first into your dripping heat.
"Oh, GOD! Harry, I'm about to come."
"Let it go y/n. I want every last drop." Harry replies, his voice sending vibrations through you, and just like that you're flying over the edge into the best, longest, most intense orgasm you've ever experienced.
Harry doesn't let up until he's sure he cleaned it all up.
"Fucking delicious." He says before kissing you again. The lingering bit is passed back and forth as you continue to twirl your tongue with Harry's. After a moment he pulls away and grabs a condom out of a side pocket in his shorts.
"Up to you love." He says, completely genuine, but also with a full smirk.
"Yes please, Petty Officer Styles." You teasingly sass back.
"And for full points?" He teases, slowly ripping the condom packet and rolling it on.
"Petty Officer Second Class Harry Styles." You reply, using his full rank.
"Good girl." He answers and slowly sinks into your cunt until he bottoms out.
"Fuck, you're so fucking deep Harry. Feels so fucking good."
"This fucking pussy was made for me, damnit, taking me so well darling, the perfect squeeze.
"Oh God, go, GO HARRY!" you command and like an obedient soldier he follows orders, pulling out halfway and thrusting back in. Further and further he pulls back until only his tip remains. Fucking you so thoroughly, you're glad you have a corner apartment and no shared walls in your bedroom. There would be no mistaking the moans of pleasure, the thorough banging of a headboard, and the slick sounds of Harry gliding in and out of you at a ruthless pace and consistency only a SEAL could.
You screw your eyes shut as he plunges impossibly deeper, so deep your sure he'll split you in half. He's relentless, not slowing down, not letting up. Harry plunges into you, again and again and again, you can feel the bubble rising ready to pop when he stills inside you, effectively removing you from the edge.
"Not…yet… want…to…see��if…i can…get…a…good…gush…from…you." He says in between deep, quick thrusts.
"Harry, I haven't squirted since college.
"Don't need you to squirt, just a good gush, I want you to drench my fucking cock. Makes me come harder, and I'm barely holding it back now you're so fucking perfect. Can you do that f'me? Be a good girl and gush all over m'cock?"
"FUCK!" You let out as his dirty words wash over you and make you want nothing more than just to please this hot as fuck man. Whatever he wants, you will give. Your vision goes fuzzy as you feel yourself tip over.
"Atta girl!" Harry praises you and flicks your clit just right, you can't help but continue to gush. A pleasured cry of, "Shit, yes baby," leaves his mouth as he spills into the condom.
After just a moment, he carefully pulls out and heads into your ensuite to dispose of the rubber. He returns with a warm rag and ever so gently cleans you up before tossing the rag in your towel bin. After which he climbs back into your bed behind you for a warm cuddle.
"Do you want me to stay, or would you prefer I head out?" He asks you quietly.
"Stay." You whisper just before falling asleep.
The next morning you awake to the sound of your shower running and realize that now is your chance. His wallet is still in his shorts and you quickly nab his military id before cloning it and returning the original.
When Harry exits your ensuite you're back in bed, eyes wide open as he steps out, towel drying his trimmed curls.
"Oh, you're awake. Hope you don't mind that I took a quick shower. If the guys catch me smelling like sex this morning they probably won't be happy."
"Instead you can smell like citrus and lavender?" They'll still know it's mine, I've used that stuff most of my life, helps me stay calm and it's not overbearing. Hell it's been in Mitch's house. From my sleepovers with Raina." You reply.
"Oh well, too late now. But I was thinking I could pick up a few things after my day and cook you dinner?" He asks, not being shy about wanting to see you again.
"Not tonight, I've got a full day of coding ahead of me. Won't be out of my office until late, like early morning late." You say as you walk him out. "Call me tomorrow?" You add with a wink. Harry smiles and then heads towards base.
*Harry's POV*
After a nice ride to base, on top of everything last night, I'm on fucking cloud nine. Y/N was just so fucking perfect, she's beautiful, intelligent, witty, and being in her presence is like rays of sunshine peeking through the clouds. She definitely has the spirit to be a category five hurricane, but she also just doesn't give a damn if she doesn't want to. The perfect switch, that complements mine real well. I'm practically daydreaming as I walk through the halls duffle in hand and badge at the ready. When I hit the cages, I change quickly before slapping on my tracking bracelet and slipping in my earbuds for a nice long run.
After a good hour, I swap my shorts and tank for the dive gear in my backpack. A waterproof earpiece from base command tells me where I'm headed and outlines a few details about my 'mission'. When the timer starts running down I'm quick to dive under and head towards the sonar signal. I diffuse fake bomb after fake bomb, inspect entrance hatches and disarm explosive after explosive meant to kill me and the rest of my team with tripwire traps and riggings. I go until my oxygen tank gets too low to continue at which point I head for dry land and a quick briefing with Mitch.
"The fuck are you doing looking into that op Harry?" Mitch hollers, glaring daggers at me.
"What op? I haven't looked at a digital screen other than my tracker and cell all day. I've been underwater for the last four hours, sir." I reply, having no clue what the fuck he's going on about.
"Prove it, pull up the tracker," he commands and I follow my orders without hesitation.
"Who was your acting command officer?" He asks, now clearly pissed about something else. "And give me your damn badge."
"Lieutenant Commander Danielson was my ACO sir." I reply and hand him my badge.
"With me," is all he says before leaving the room and I don't hesitate to follow.
When we reach Danielson's sector Mitch calls out, "Danny, were you Styles' ACO today?"
"Yes, Master Chief." Is the reply but Mitch is already turning to head somewhere else.
"Rai (pronounced Ray) tell me who hacked it." Mitch says to his Lieutenant daughter. She works mainly in command and is the youngest on her team of 5 highly trained data software mechanical engineers. Rai earned the respect of each and every person under her command with her impressive talent and knack for leadership she shows.
"Whoever hacked it, knows what they're doing, that's for sure, but it also wasn't actually hacked. It was cloned, meaning there's a duplicate of his id running around, but since they aren't the same composite I can't track the clone like I can the original." Rai explained.
"Just shut down his old one and get him a new one Rai, now." Mitch added before going back towards the cages. "Styles, go home and do some soul searching, see if you can figure out which of your little girlfriends or hookups or whatever you call them would've done this."
*3rd Person POV*
That is precisely what he does. He has some random movie on just for the noise, but he sits at his table making a list of all the people he’s hooked up with in the past 6 weeks. There was Britt, Katya, Grace, Brad, Liz, and you. Britt was a friends who sometimes hook up kind of thing. Grace was a really cute waitress at a diner on the pier. Brad is an intelligence officer for Seal Team 3 Delta, and Liz was on a layover to tokyo from New York that got grounded due to mechanical failures. You were obviously well, you. But something in the back of his head remembered Mitch saying ‘that op’ which could only mean your father’s op. However Katya was an American born to Russian parents who fled shortly before Putin took office. Her father was an officer in the Russian military, but not a fan of Putin. Which could make Katya seem unlikely to flip. With that he was down to two options, you and Katya. For your sake he hoped it wasn’t you, Mitch would take that personally, but Katya would be an international spy and Harry trusted his sense of someone’s character and Katya was very nice, Harry felt like she had a good head on her shoulders.
-The next morning-
Harry had an early briefing with Mitch to reveal where his soul searching led him. Walking into that briefing with unease swirling in his gut.
“Well?” Mitch asked him.
“I’m down to two, but I did bring all six names with me for you to look at as well.” Harry said to Mitch.
“Brad’s clean, we both know that, but I’ll have Rai look at the rest of these, wait, seriously?” Mitch trailed off towards the end having finally spotted your name. “No way she’s capable of that Harry.”
“With respect sir, her background is in computer science and analytics, she is extremely proficient in statistics and probability, and an eval was never done on her after that incident, as much as I hate to say it because I really do like her, we’ve no idea how losing her father affected her. She was raised by soldiers, she knows how to brush things off and make it appear like she’s coping well, she knows all of you and could easily manipulate how her emotions come off in front of all of you, which is why I consider her the prime suspect.” He states although his shoulders drop with the last part of his statement.
Mitch steps out for a few minutes and comes back with Raina. “Ask her, Rai knows Y/N better than anyone, and Rai this doesn’t prove anything.”
Harry explains his thoughts one more time and after a few seconds of deliberation and a deep breath Raina turns to Mitch and responds, “You want to know if Y/N has the skills required to pull off cloning a military id, my answer without a doubt is yes, she absolutely has the required skills, and I agree with Harry, she is excellent at masking her emotions, i’ve seen it, it hurts me to say this, but we do need to look into her. My best suggestion would be to send Harry in unannounced.” She finishes speaking, her voice conveying the warring emotions she’s currently feeling.
“Fine. Harry, any objections?” Mitch answers.
“None, Sir.” Harry responds.
“Then its on, I want you recording, it won’t transmit, we don’t want anything going up the chain yet, I still want to shield her from the worst of this if I can, right now I have to believe that she’s just a kid looking for answers. If only i’d tried harder to get them for her.”
*Y/N’s POV*
I wrap up an intense line of code before I start my 30 seconds of this hour in the military’s system. It’ll take approximately 4 days to complete that year’s worth of files doing 30 seconds each hour, but I designed this program myself and I know it will work. My VPN is completely untraceable during those 30 seconds and the same engineer would have to be watching the computer for 48 hours straight in order to see the pattern (the same 30 seconds of each hour, with 24 different combinations so that they only repeat the same 30 seconds on a military clock), because it looks like Harry is just scrolling through old files without opening any of them when they are actually being backed up to an untraceable cloud drive, where I can flip through them.
“Y/N? Are you home? I brought lunch.” Harry's voice sounds from outside my front door. I exit and lock my office quickly knowing the program will shut off and exit the navy’s systems by itself.
“Hey, I thought we said you weren't going to swing by today. Luckily you caught me while I had a few minutes of downtime from my project for work.” I say to him after opening the door.
“Yeah, sorry about that, they didn't need me on base anymore today, so I thought maybe I'd surprise you. I brought tacos.” He smiles sheepishly.
“You're lucky you're cute Styles.” I say with a smile.
After we finish eating, I go to make a move on him, sitting myself on his lap, but he surprises me by flipping us so that I'm in the chair, and being a kinky fucker he slips a pair of handcuffs around my wrists.
“I know you cloned my military ID and used it to hack into the navy's system, care to explain, something about a certain op.”
“I have no idea…”
“Please don't make this difficult Y/N, Mitch already knows. The system records who logs in and the exact time stamp, as soon as I used my badge and access code on base this morning before going for training, which I was dark for, they knew it had been hacked.”
“Harry I never meant to hurt you, that's not how this started, ok fine, hurting the navy is exactly how this started.”
“You are going to have to tell me everything, or Mitch and I can't protect you. Because for some reason, I have this need to protect you even after you hacked my military ID.”
“I haven't been the same person since before my father got killed Harry. His death is the reason I went into tech. After his death I threw myself into my degree, hoping that with time the details would be declassified, after five years they still weren't, so I tried making an official request, I just wanted to know how my father died, and not the bullshit hero excuse they use when trying to cover something up. Plus the team's story was too perfect, it was word for word, even I know that means they're hiding something. So I decided I was going to exploit my connection to 7 Alpha. You were hot, the guys were encouraging you to get with me, and frankly the sex was the best I've ever had. I hesitated that morning while you were in the shower, mainly because part of me wanted to see you again and I knew we couldn't once I actually cloned your ID. I've been chasing answers for so long Harry, and I am finally about to get them. I can't let it go, I won't let it go.”
“I know you won't, nor would I expect you to. Now I have to ask if you were planning on selling any of the information you retrieved to other nations, or putting it online anywhere?”
“No, honestly the thought had crossed my mind at one point, but I wouldn't be my father's daughter if I did. And he taught me to always get justice for those that can't get it for themselves. That was the whole point of being a SEAL. Truth, justice, and protecting those that can't from the people who mean us harm.” I wrap up and Harry pulls a device out of his back pocket and switches it off.
“A recorder, it's private don't worry, Mitch just wants to make sure we don't have to get command involved. He was blaming himself earlier. My hope is that we can forgive each other, because whatever this is between us, that's been going on for months, even though our first official date was three days ago, I don't want it to end either.”
“You… you can really forgive me for hacking the navy? Command isn't going to arrest me?”
“The teams are a family, one you were born into, they aren't going to turn on you. Especially when they all wanted to tell you in the first place. And someday, our kids will be a part of that family too.”
There was an awkward bit of silence for about a minute before the laughter broke out.
“Yeah, I can't believe I just said that.” Harry said, though the smile on his face told me he was seeing it too. This was just the beginning for us.
Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what your thoughts are!
-Ava
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harrystyles#harry styles blurb#hstyles#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#navyseal!harry#militarybrat!y/n#hacker!y/n#navysealrry#tktg#first post#harry styles series#harry edward styles#harry styles smut#harry styles fiction#feedback appreciated
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Ooooo if requests are open. Can I maybe get something for Butters! Some fluuuuuuff please! 💖🙏 thank yoooou I hope I'm not a bother! 😭
Of course you can lovely! It's never a bother!
Warning: Tooth-Rotting fluff, Strong Language
Pairing: Butters x Fem!Reader
"And would you believe it fellas, she said yes! Boy, I sure am excited this weekend is gonna be the best!" Butters couldn't contain the excitement in his voice, the little drawl in his accent slipping out more than usual.
"Yeah Butters, this is the third time you've told us. I think I can believe it." Stan responded with a sigh as he put down the lukewarm burger back down on his tray.
"Oh yeah...hehe!"
Butters giggled as he pushed his fingers together, his knuckles rubbing against each other. Maybe he was being a little annoying, but he couldn't help how excited he was, the giddy feeling was getting stronger with each passing hour. He just had to wait a few more hours and school was over, and more importantly it was Friday so that meant the weekend was already here!
Absent-mindedly he picked up one of the soggy fries off his plate and took a bite out of it, he was in such a good mood he didn't care how horrible it tasted. With his cheek tucked into his hand, he let his eyes wonder over towards where you were sitting. Watching you giggle at a joke Red was telling, nothing else seemed to matter around him but your smile.
The rest of the boys cast side glances at each other, it was Craig who finally broke the silence. "He's gone. We lost him to whatever spell she has over him."
"Come on guys, we should be at least happy for him. I mean look...", Kyle spoke in a whisper as if the blond wasn't sitting right beside him. Before he continued his point his hand came up to Butters cheek, pinching the skin lightly. His green gloves smooshed his cheek in between his fingers, and when Butters didn't react, he continued "Nothing, not a single reaction. It's like we're not here."
"What did he say they were doing anyway?" Craig asked, looking between Butters and Kyle.
"Apple picking." Cartman responded, the look on his face was filled with dread like the very thought of the whole ordeal was exhausting.
"I think it's sweet..."
"You fucking would. It's stupid! I doubt she even knows it's a date, and you know what I don't blame her! Who the fuck goes on a date and picks fucking apples!" As if the whole situation wasn't enough for Cartman, the minute Kyle tried to make light of the situation it set something off in him.
"Why do you care!? I swear to God Cartman do not ruin this with one of your stupid ideas!"
"Fuck you Kahl! You're such a fucking know it all! You just have to be right about every god damn thing, don't you?!"
"For the love of god..."
Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and Craig only went back to watching the two bicker and argue. Everything seemed to just seem to fall into place, a normal lunch on a very normal day. Butters couldn't care less what was going on or the fact that you and him were the topic of their conversation. His lovesick look was only broken when you finally looked towards the commotion, hearing Kyle and Cartman raise their voices at one another. When your eyes met with his he gave you a wide grin and a little wave, causing you to laugh and wave back at him. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he watched you stand up and whisper something to the girls.
Butters felt his heartbeat pick up with every step you took towards him, the tip of his ears turning red from it all. You closed the distance between the both of you, gliding across the lunchroom like some sort of angel.
"Hey Butters, are we still on for this weekend? What time did you want to meet up?" Your voice rang out past the screaming like chimes, it took Butters a second to register what you even asked.
"Uh, w-well I figured I'd pick ya up! I asked my dad if I could use the car and everything! W-we gotta be careful with it though! Dad said if we made a mess I'd get grounded again!" His mind was screaming at him as the words just kept pouring out of his mouth, but he couldn't stop babbling. Couldn't stop just spewing embarrassing shit about his fear of being grounded.
Expecting you to laugh at him or even call the whole thing off, he felt his heart soar when you smiled warmly at him. Was that a blush on your face too?! Were you just as nervous as he was? But any hope of being on the same level was shattered when you took his hand and gave it a little squeeze, and so was any attempt at keeping the red off his cheeks.
"That's very sweet of you! I'll be ready around four, is that okay? You still have my address, right?"
Sweet. You said he was sweet. You were looking at him like he was the only boy on the planet and calling him sweet. If he wasn't sitting, he was sure his knees would have buckled from that alone.
"Y-yeah! Yeah, I do! Four works swell." Swell. Fucking swell, that's all he could come up with was swell. His lips quivered at his own mind screaming at him, but you didn't seem to mind. You never did.
"Awesome. Thanks Butters, text me~" You cooed, finding the blond in front of you to be the most adorable thing. That was when you delivered the final blow, you did the thing that made Butters sure you were trying to kill him. You leaned down and kissed him on his head. Giving his hand one last squeeze, you let go and made your way back to the girls who were giggling and grabbing at your arm.
Silence fell over the table as the guys looked over at Butters with awe. Kyle's hand loosened off of Cartman's collar and Stan felt his arms slack no longer needing to hold the two back from each other.
"Let's fucking gooooo!" Kenny exclaimed, wrapping his arm around Butters unable to contain his own joy for his friend. Shaking the blond back and forth, his laugh being muffled by the black mask over his face.
#did you guys know#Tumblr#had a word limit??#because i fucking didn't#god damn#i wanted to write#more#cute apple picking scene!#fuck!#oh but hey first request#how exciting#i do for you anon#i hope you like it#butters stotch#butters x reader#reader insert#fluff#sp fanfiction#request#anon ask
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For the ask game: Butters! I can't decide on which questions so... all of them! (Or how ever many you feel like answering.)
oh this should be fun-
My first interpretation of them
Honestly I just felt bad for him. I basically knew him as the kid who got grounded all the time and he seemed sweet enough, he was actually one of my faves from the beginning haha
2. When I think I started to truly like him
Honestly the Fun With Veal episode. And in the Butters’ Bottom Bitch episode where he just kept going ‘do you know what I am saying?’ I just thought it was funny lol
3. A song that reminds me of them
(Kinda a joint one) but You and Me (But Mostly Me) from Book of Mormon is SO Butters and Cartman. Also The Weight of Us by Sanders Bohlke.
4. How many people I ship them with
I don’t really do ships lol, I liked him and Charlotte tho, they seemed cute.
5. My favorite ship of them
Probably him and Charlotte
6. My least favorite ship of them
Him and Cartman. Absolutely him and Cartman.
7. A quote of them I remember
“I’d rather be a crying little pussy than a faggy goth kid anyway.”
8, My favorite outfit on them
Professor Chaos or his Stick of Truth costume
9. My least favorite outfit on them
The bear suit Paris Hilton made him wear in Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset. I felt awful for him
10. Describe the character in one sentence
Sunshine boy with horrible family members
11. What’s the first thing I think fo when I think of this character?
His accent. I dunno, I just have a knack for remembering stuff like that lol-I could honestly just listen to his voice all day, it’s soothing for me
12. Sexuality hdc!
I’m torn between him being pan and being straight lol, but I do think he’s on the ace spectrum.
13. My favorite friendship they have
Him and Kenny. Definitely
14. Best storyline they had
Butters’ Very Own Episode. I felt bad for him but it’s one of my favorite episodes
15. Worst storyline they had
Probably in the earlier seasons when he was just used as Kenny’s counterpart for the shows punching bag. Idk, it just felt like he didn’t really have any character or personality back then
16. A childhood headcanon
He lived on a farm for a little bit when he was a baby. They moved from Hawaii to say Oklahoma, then to South Park when he was three. Hence the accent. He also had a pet chick up until he was 7 or so named Toast. His parents made him give the chick away tho
17. What do you think their first word was?
Probably just mama or something. I do have a headcanon he still calls his mom (or his unofficial mother figure) mama sometimes.
18. How do I think he was as a kid?
He was probably really hyper. He subdued when he got older tho because his parents kept grounding him for accidentally breaking stuff when he would run around
19. The most random ship I’ve seen with this character
Butters x Craig. Like ???? They never interacted in the show lol-
20. A weird headcanon
Butters has a huge sweet tooth and if there’s candy or sweets in his vicinity he’ll devour it in an instant and likely suffer from a bellyache later
21. When do I think they were at his happiest?
Probably when he moved out and went to college tbh. He was just happy to get away from his toxic ass family. Or when his grandma finally dies.
22. When do I think he was at his lowest?
I do headcanon that when he’s in middle school he finally snaps. He becomes angry and kinda becomes a bully because he doesn’t feel like he has anyone who cares about him, it’s probably only for a few days at most but he just snaps at everyone, makes fun of everything everyone does, but after a few days Kenny (and maybe Cartman or Kyle) kinda confronts him and he ends up apologizing and trying to find someone to talk to.
23. Future headcanon
I wanna imagine that he lives on a farm, he has a bunch of chickens and goats (his favs) and some cows, pigs, even ducks. He gets a pet dog (a Border Collie) named Waffles. He kinda owns a petting zoo of sorts where younger kids just stop by and he educated them about animals and stuff. He also owns a bakery. He names it ‘Buttery Bliss’ or something
24. What do you think i’d a secret they’ve never told anyone?
Probably the thing with his sphincter and how he has to wear diapers in school sometimes. He probably only told AWESOM-O because he thought it was just a robot. But after that he didn’t tell anyone because he would definitely get made fun of :(
25. When do I think he’s acted the most ooc
Probably in The Worldwide Privacy Tour. Kyle even said ‘this is really out of character for you, Butters.’ so probably that lol, or in Going Native. I mean he literally wanted to kill a bunch of innocent people
26. When do I think they were being “themselves” the most?
Honestly? Probably when he was singing the Loo Loo Loo song, it kinda just showed his cuter side. Or in Cartman Sucks when his parents sent him to the Pray teh Gay Away camp because he was just so oblivious to where he was but still stood up for himself and his friends in the end
27. If they could meet a certain character from a different show/movie/book, who would be the most fun for them to meet?
Hello kitty. This kid would be in HEAVEN if Hello kitty was real. Either Hello kitty or Tails the Fox. Him and Tails are pretty similar. Plus fluffy fox meets sunshine boy, they’d get along-or just him in the pokémon world. Yes.
28. The most unnecessary thing they ever did?
Probably when he was trying to get the Hawaiian tourists killed in war
29. How do I think they’d be as a parent?
Honestly? He spoils the shit out of his kids. He’s a huge pushover, but not to the point where his kids become spoiled brats. He probably exposes them to animals early so he could get them to know what’s good and what isn’t when on the farm. He supports his children, but he’s probably a very sheltering parent if that makes sense. Has no idea what he’s doing at first but eventually gets the hang of it. He loves playing make believe with them, would totally play dress up and such.
30. The funniest scene they ever had?
When he’s Professor Chaos and trying to be all menacing and Dougie has to keep telling him the Simpsons already did his idea and he’s just like ‘aw hamburgers :(‘
Hope this is good!
#south park#butters stotch#leopold ‘butters’ stotch#butters leopold stotch#butters stotch headcanons#south park headcanons#character ask game#skipper speaks#headcanons
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i’ve always resented people saying benoit blanc is cajun because of daniel craig’s horrible foghorn leghorn accent but now that he’s gay he can be cajun. his accent is still bad but he can be cajun now
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❝DON’T GO YET.❞
(not my gif)
summary: benoit blanc’s heading off to greece soon, and marta cabrera doesn’t want him to go when there’s still unfinished business in massachusetts. in fact, she’ll stall him any way she can.
warnings: smut, complete and utter filth as a matter of fact, oral sex m receiving, implied past oral sex f receiving/facesitting, age gap (all legal), my horrible attempts at recreating daniel craig’s ridiculous southern accent
word count: 887
a/n: KNIVES OUT 2 WHEN???? kinda bummed we won’t get more of these guys, ngl. i rewatched this movie recently and saw that the cablanca ship was curiously lacking in filth, so i wrote this both for myself and the four other people still on this ship in 2021 lol. i already know this is going to flop, but to all who choose to read, i hope it delivers.
//////
“Miss Cabrera?”
Blanc’s voice is light, like wind on water, but not quite soft enough to conceal the obvious Kentucky in his accent. Marta would never be able to say it, else someone ridiculed her for it, but something about him drove her positively insane, and she was pretty sure he knew.
She keeps her eyes on her lap, at her hands clenched there, knowing full well her breathing is out of control. They’re parked well away from the Thrombey security cameras, and it’s dark. It’s just them in this shitty blue car.
“Yes?” she breathes back.
Still her hands tremble. When she gathers the courage to look at him, thoughtful blue eyes are searing into hers.
“No one can see us out here, can they?” Blanc asks softly.
Marta whips around a bit too earnestly. The grounds are deserted.
“The - the Thrombeys have no reason to be out here this late,” she replies, trembling as she looks back at him. “Not unless Meg is sneaking out again, but - but I don’t imagine she would be out on a night like this.”
Blanc stares at her, contemplating. Then he speaks.
“Marta, I - I wouldn’t want word to get around, y’see-”
“Please,” she whispers, and something about her blunt honesty startles him, she can see it in his eyes. She can tell he expected vomiting.
Marta meets his gaze, too distracted by the heartbeat between her legs to care.
“I - I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let this go like last time.”
Blanc’s eyes search her face. It’s an emotion she hasn’t seen from him before: he’s genuinely taken aback.
“Young lady,” he starts, but Marta just presses her lips to his.
Blanc sharply exhales through his nose, neither condemning it or melting into it, and lets her grasp a handful of his tweed jacket. He knows she needs this, bad.
It’s not something he would easily admit, but something about her neediness makes his trousers unusually restrictive.
“I want to touch you,” Marta mutters breathlessly, pulling away the smallest inch. “Can - can I-“
“Fuck, child,” Blanc hisses, glancing up at the roof of Marta’s car. “You’re already making a mess of me now, arent’cha?”
Marta grins sheepishly and gently pulls his cock from his pants.
He’s thick, hot in her palm, and fucking dripping.
She glances up at him for the smallest second— he looks just as stunned as she is— before she wraps her mouth around him.
Blanc sinks back into his seat almost reflexively. “Fuck, darlin’...”
The girth of him stretches Marta’s mouth effortlessly, and she gags in spite of herself, feeling her mouth fill up with an excess of saliva. Filthy noises are filling the car soon enough, and Blanc’s hand finds the crown of her head, pushing her down further onto his cock.
Tears materialize in her eyes as she sucks him to the best of her ability, but she doesn’t want to let go.
With a breathy, desperate kind of sound escaping Blanc, the hand on her head suddenly tightens, and Marta grins, lets herself be guided downward until his cock is pulsing at the back of her throat.
Meanwhile, Blanc’s rambling, senseless and not making much sense.
“Darlin’, if you wanna come with me - Lord - anywhere you want, you got it, just keep - shit - keep doin’ that...”
He brushes hair out of her face with a heavy hand. “I’m headin’ off to Greece in a couple of weeks, you like the sound of that?”
Marta gives a hasty giggle. “Mr Blanc, you need to calm down.”
Something about the way his name rolls off her tongue has him clenching, but he tries to ignore it.
“Marta, darlin’, there’s plenty’a reasons not to be calm right now.”
She draws back to wrap her hand around his length, jerking him off quickly and efficiently, and a moan escapes him again. Marta Cabrera was never as plain as she looked, but still, she was never like…this.
“Are there?”
Blanc lets his thumb drift across her face. “Might need to fuck the cockiness outta ya if you keep talkin’ like that, sweetheart.”
Marta just smirks. “Looking forward to it.”
Blanc’s looking forward to it too: he doesn’t even have to concentrate to feel the ghost of her drenched cunt over his mouth, or the weight of her thighs on his shoulders. He can still hear her cute little whimpers and curses, too.
“Fuck, child,” he whispers again, because it feels like the only thing he can say. It’s dark all around them, but his vision is starting to blur around the edges with whiteness: one gentle swirl from Marta’s tongue is all it takes.
Suddenly, a strangled moan catches in Blanc’s throat and his hips jerk, pushing his cock further into Marta’s mouth. He’s fucking coming, warm, hot, and fast, and in the very back of her throat at that.
“Filthy fuckin’ girl,” Blanc whispers as she gags around him, taking it all.
When she draws back to stick out her tongue for him, her tongue is wet with nothing but her own saliva.
Swallowed.
Marta grins, mouth further widening, clearly proud of her work.
“Needa go back to my hotel room,” is the first thing Blanc is conscious of himself saying.
#cablanca#knives out#benoit blanc#marta cabrera#daniel craig#ana de armas#benoit x marta#marta cabrera smut#daniel craig smut#ana de armas smut#benoit blanc smut#cablanca smut#knives out fanfiction
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Greg high on anesthesia and flirting with Tom >>>
Godddd I would pay to see that
They finally are forced to let Tom in and he’s at Greg’s bedside in a second.
He looks like hell from the accident but he’s awake and most importantly he’s alive.
The next thing he notices is Greg is fucking doped up beyond. They warned him he might be too stoned to recognize him but it still feels like gut punch when Greg looks at him and there’s no flicker of recognition there.
Except now he’s smiling, a goofy dopey smile, so maybe he does know-
“Woah..hey you..” and he drops his voice into some sort of horrible southern accent, “what’s a mighty a fine gentleman like you doing on my side of town, partner:”
And he’s not sure if he wants to laugh or cry because fuck, it’s such a stupid Greg thing to say and could have lost him. He never would have heard his bizarre rambling and stupid jokes again.
And he wants to reach over and brush the stray hairs from his forehead. There’s always that one strand that never wants to stay in place. He doesn’t though:
And Greg is still just kinda looking at him with this same goofy expression. “You’re..wow..you’re really uh…you sure are a good looking gentleman..my good sir.”
And that’s….not what he expected to come out his mouth..
“How about you lie down and rest?” He says because Greg is high.
“How about you uh..join me? Perhaps? If you..are so inclined?”
And what the fuck is Greg hitting on him? He reminds himself Greg is on pain killers.
He reminds himself not to take it seriously although it feels like someone reached into his chest and squeezed.
“I think I’ll stay right here, buddy.”
And he wishes he could climb into the bed with him, hold him until he falls back asleep.
Greg just squirms a bit before squinting at him for a moment. “Are you my boyfriend?” And that feels like a punch in the stomach.
“What?” Is all he can say because why would he assume that? Why-
“Are we like together?”
He thinks of Italy and the answer comes out against his will. “Yes.” Sue him. He’ll tell Greg he was just fucking with him if he remembers.
“Seriously?” He winces at the incredulity in his voice. Well, ouch. Maybe he was reading this wrong the entire time.
You just called me handsome, asshole.
“How did I manage that?” He says finally, sounding slightly..awed. “Are you like blind?”
And oh, he means how did he land someone like Tom? It’s so ridiculous and..flattering he can’t help but preen a little at the indirect compliment.
“No I’m not blind, Greg.”
“Wow.”
And the silence that follows is only awkward for Tom it seems.
“What’s your name?” Greg says after a moment like it’s not strange to not know his own supposed boyfriends name.
“Tom.”
“Tom. That’s a nice name you’ve got there. I’m..Craig? No- Greg. I’m Greg.”
“Yeah I know, buddy.”
“Where am I?”
“Hospital.”
Greg’s eyes go comically wide as he looks around the room and finally settles on the machines next to him “that’s not good.”
Understatement of the century.
He seems to forget about it just as quickly because he’s looking at him..with this odd sort of playful energy. Flirty? Is he flirting?
“You’re…Mm..I’m trying not to be uncouth my dear uh..lover? Boyfriend?” He looks at the ring on Tom’s hand and perks up, “husband?”
And Tom doesn’t know to respond to that. He thinks of Italy again and he thinks of Nero and Sporus and he can’t say no.
He doesn’t answer and that seems to be enough of an answer for Greg.
“Where’s my ring? Did I lose it?” His eyes go wide with panic and Tom just quickly grabs his hand and squeezes gently.
“It’s…around.” He lies because it’s easier than explaining to a drug addled Greg that he’s not actually married to him and Tom is just a sad pathetic excuse of a man pretending he is.
“Oh okay.” He looks so relieved, it’s sweet.
He’d lost his own ring once and he’d panicked. Shiv had just looked at him with mild confusion and said “if it’s lost, we’ll just get you another one, no big deal. Calm down, honey.”
And it’s instinct really to reach out and run his fingers through Greg’s hair to soothe him. Immediately he melts into it and it doesn’t take long before he’s starting to fall asleep again.
Greg smiles softly at him after a few minutes and manages to get one last agonizing blow in, “hey..I love you, Tommy.”
And this whole situation feels like the world’s cruelest joke.
“You don’t even remember me?”
“I remember I love you.” And Tom isn’t going to cry he’s not. (He is)
And he just smiles tightly and shushes him, hopes he doesn’t notice that he didn’t say it back. He can’t, not like this. What if Greg remembers? This is already damning enough.
He doesn’t notice or he’s too drugged up and tired to call him on it. He falls asleep quickly enough and Tom stays by his side until he wakes up (and thankfully doesn’t remember what transpired) like a good husband should
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Hey guys, i'm the anon who made the south park deaths post. It was until I realized, hey! i clearly could've done a better job at the writing so....
Part 1
KENNY:
I breathed in the cold, winter air as it escaped through the windows. I smiled joyfully, another great day in South Park.
I hear my mother call my name, "Kenny! Come on out here!" I quickly put on my orange parka and headed out from my room.
"We don't have anything to eat for breakfast today, so you're going to have to wait until you can eat at school." She sighed. I shrugged my shoulders in disappointment, "Okay.." My muffled voice spoke out. My mother brought up the topic of dad never getting a job and began yelling at him to stop reading playboys, and to actually do something with his pathetic life.
I grabbed my backpack and headed out the door. Maybe once I get to school It'll be better. I thought.
I. Thought.
I was walking down the sidewalk and hear someone call out my name. I looked up and saw Stan waving at me, alongside Kyle and Cartman just with arguing each other.
I made my way to cross the sidewalk, but halfway, I heard a truck honking.. I could hear Stan screaming, Kyle and Cartman still yelling at each other but louder this time, and feel my whole body shiver.
I felt the tip of the truck touch my parka, as if it was in slow motion.. then it all came crashing down on me. I could hear my bones cracking, feeling my limbs be torn apart by the impact. When I was about to cry, I died. Again.
I thought it'd get better.
I thought.
Why does this happen?
Why does god never let me be happy?
I then felt my body again, and this time I wasn't in pain. I was back, again, and It happened, AGAIN.
I woke up and proceeded to finally cross a sidewalk without dying this time. But something felt wrong. Stan looked like shit, as if someone important just died. Right in front of him. So was Kyle and Cartman, but they weren't as bad as him. Cartman seemed more confused than sad, and Kyle seemed more shocked than depressed. "Hey Kenny." Stan croaked. "You're back."
CRAIG:
What a great day to wake up to. My now, EX-BOYFRIEND just broke up with me because of "personal reasons" and that it just "didn't feel right." What a fucking asshole. I've been dealing with your freakouts just for it to come to this? Thanks, Tweek.
I didn't want to talk to anybody today. I'm just so pissed off right now.
I've never felt so horrible in my life. And i've been through stuff, if you know what I mean. I felt worthless, I hated myself. Why can't I be better? No, there's no point to that.
I slammed my locker in anger. It was so annoyingly loud that It gave me a headache. Of course. I felt someone send a glare over my shoulder. I couldn't care less though, I don't care about anything anymore. Except Stripe of course.
Just as I took my first step, I hear the front doors to the school bust open. It was a redneck. He was shouting in such a heavy Southern accent I couldn't even make out what he was saying. It sounded like gibberish almost. I then noticed the shotgun he was carrying. I began panicking and I stared at him like a deer in the head lights. I finally snapped back to reality when he fired his gun.
5. I turned around and started running.
4. I began crying.
3. I felt useless.
2. I felt scared.
1. I felt...
"Oh."
CLYDE:
I cried my eyes out. I've never felt more sad in my life. My throat burned, my heart throbbed, and I lost.. him.
I threw my fists up into the air, immediately slamming them back down again. "That fucking a-asshole!" Snot began dripping from my nose. "I HATE HIM!" I cried out. "IT WAS ALL HIS FAULT, I K-K-KNOW IT! TH-THAT BASTARD!" I started hiccuping.
"You're worthless."
"You're a piece of shit, Tweek."
"You ruined him."
"You can't even button up your shirt correctly! How dumb can you be?"
"He was better without you."
"He was happier."
"He cou-
"Just stop!" Tweek yelled at me. What was his problem? "Listen, I know I wasn't the best, I know I-I could've done better, and I'm sorry, Clyde!" Tweek sighed. "And you've been sh-shitting on me every day because of it, and I want you t-to stop!" I crossed my arms and puffed out my chest.
"And what are you gonna do about it, fuck face?"
"W-Well, I was wondering if we could talk about it at my place. And hopefully, we can resolve our problems."
At first, I thought hell no! I'm not forgiving this asshole so quickly. But then I had an idea.
I'll just kill him.
I applauded myself in my mind for such a great idea. "Fine." I rolled my eyes. "Th-thank you, it'll be at 8 by the way." Tweek quickly left.
After school was over I began running to my house, running through the newly covered snow. I ran through the front door, and closed the door. "Welcome home, Clyde!" My dad smiled. I ignored hus greeting and ran upstairs. Hearing my dad mutter "You must be in a rush..." His voice slowly faded out as I ran into my room. "Time to prepare." I grinned as I pulled out my laptop.
Time skip brought to you by Kyle's great ass.
I began walking to Tweek's house. I hid my butcher knife in my coat. He'll never notice! I glanced up and saw it. It. I noticed I began to sweat, no need to sweat Donovan! You'll just have to carry his body far out to the forest and no one would notice! Then you'll just leave, easy peasy! Tweek's parents were out on a date, so it was just me and Tweek. All. Alone. Together.
I knocked on the door, and it was opened immediately. "Welcome." Tweek's voice was unnervingly calm. "I've got you your favorite drink, Clyde. Why don't you head up stairs so we can talk?" He smiled. "Okay..." I got a bad feeling. I don't know why but.. I did. Something was totally off. Probably because I was going to kill Tweek and my nerves were just getting to me. So I set that stupid feeling aside.
I walked inside Tweek's room, legos were scattered across the floor. "Oh, don't mind that." I jumped. Tweek was so.. close. Wtf. "I was hoping we could try and build something.." He walked over to his desk and set our drinks down. I sat down next to him.
He held up his drink and said "Cheers?" Tweek smiled. I picked up my drink and returned the gesture, "Cheers." I began to chug my drink. Wow, it sure did taste odd.
I set my drink down along with Tweek. But as soon as I did, I felt my stomach explode. I fell to the floor gripping my stomach. I immediately started to throwing up. "WHAT THE FUCK!?!" I began sobbing. Tweek immediately ran over to me, grabbing my hair and shoving me onto the floor. "S-Shut up!" He growled.
"H-HELP!"
I began coughing blood.
"HELP M-ME PLE-PLEASE!"
I started to sob.
"I'M SORRY!"
I felt extremely light headed.
I started to throw up blood.
I felt like my brain was going to explode.
I just wanted justice.
I just wanted to help him.
Somehow.
But I couldn't.
I-
.
.
.
.
I failed.
okay
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SPN 6X4 Weekend at Bobby's
heh that's a funny reference
ooo Crowley!!
o a summoning ritual
sWaN diVE
ten from Romanian judge heh
bobby’s british accent isn’t BAD!
“been drinking it since grade school” ahahah
look the “souls as currency” and then crowley coming right back, that’s not bad
JEEZ THAT CONTRACT
that’s also kinda cool, the contract
his FUCKING DOG
“happy hunting” OOOO
oh he’s a FUN ASS villain
also Bobby has like…barely been there, he was there with Lisa and Ben
“you’ve fallen and can’t get up” “hilarious”
oo he’s doing research
BOBBY YOU BROKE INTO A LIBRARY
bALLS
oh the song is FUN I don’t know it but it’s FUN
mans is chugging coffee
he’s exhausted :(
LMAO THE DEMON IN THE BASEMENT
sexy demon trope there we go
ooo “it’s a myth” “uh huh”
damn he doesn’t give a SHIT I LOVE HIM
KING OF H E L L ?
nosy neighbor huh
“it’s a horror movie” lmaooo
“have you seen drag me to hell” “I’m trying to avoid it�� AHAHAHAHA
I get weird vibes from her
boy the fire thing is effective
WE CALL HIM LUCKY THE LEPRECHAUN BEHIND HIS BACK
“It’s scottish” ahahaha
damn Bobby that was dark
ooo the phonesss
“the REAL FBI” “how are you still alive” AHAHA
“you gotta help me bury a body” LMAOOO
“sits on his ass” hmmm
monsters are just coming from everywhere huh?
why the fuck does Rufus know Craig
“what am I a heathen? I know what Craig is” AHAHAH
“I didn’t ask for your help” “I didn’t ask for your permission” AW
“It didn’t pan out” PAN TO THE PRIEST
SAM IN THE BACKGROUND
THE COVER UP WITH HIS MOM
JODY COVERS! OR TRIES TO!
IT WORKED!
“I got a body in the basement and one buried in the yard” AHAHAHA
B a L L S
fun they found the grave
HE STABBED IT THE WRONG AMOUNT OF TIMES
“single white females” whoop
Bobby there had to have been a better option than that
ope there she is
well that’s…also a good way to kill something
who needs bamboo knives am i right
aw there went the lady :(
“woodchopper” “yeah..that works”
a SON?
AHAHAHA HE CAN’T ASK FOR HELP
man the cobbler
she really just wanted to date him
Dean it can’t always be about you man
RUFUS AHAHA
“I GOT GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS”
Bobby singer and the terrible horrible no good GETTING HIS FUCKING SOUL BACK
DEAN COME ON FOR FUCK’S SAKE
D E A N YOU ASSHOLE
“sometimes you two are the whiniest, self absorbed sons of bitches” AHAHAHAHA
“yes, I am aware you’re fucked HOWEVER”
honestly, this is REFRESHING GOOD TELL THEM
yes it feels like the writers yelling at the characters but it feels deserved
“…you’re not joking” AHAHA
ooo he’s gotta ask for help
this isn’t a bad character study for him? I feel?
JODY’S FUCKING FACE SHE’S SO ANGRY AT HERSELF FOR DOING THIS
I LOVE JODY
ooo yay ghost summoning
heyyy it worked
he’s not happy to be king of hell huh
“It’s been hell” pfft
AHAHAH “DO i look like dr phil to you”
ah yes the making fun of each other’s accents
ah
of course he doesn’t care
oh insider trading
lovely they don’t get along
DAMN BOBBY
smart guy
F ER G U S
HE SOLD HIS SOUL FOR PENIS ENLARGEMENT
BOBBY SENT DEAN AND SAM TO SCOTLAND
KILTTT
OO THE BURNING BONES THING WAS A TRIAL RUN
Ghosts with an Ego
…was DEAN FLIRTING
BOBBY GOT HIM
ahaHAAHAA HE’S ANGRY ABOUT IT
ah Dean did not take the flight well lmaooo
good yes acknowledge he was right :)
BOBBY YOU FELT AN EMOTION I’M SO PROUD OF YOU
DEAN NOT THE OLIVE GARDEN
MANS JUST WANTED HIS COBBLER
Listen I really liked how this was one arc that was done for an episode. Like I know this means they kinda ruined their premise but Bobby on the hunt for Crowley, the GOOD chekov’s gun, the smarts, the little bits we’ve seen of the formula before(him researching, the lamia hunt in the background, solid way to set up the rest of the season), and actual change to the status quo(it probably won’t last but it was good). Like really pull back the curtain type thing. Also, the whole not dating thing pretty clearly as far as hunter life. Back to Hunter Life Sucks but has to be done, and like…I appreciated that
It was REALLY NICE how Bobby’s arc was just learn to ask for help and put boundaries, because he got taken for granted but also let it happen. Does he use it as punishment? is he just that good a person? either way I just… really liked that. And when he tried to roll back to the status quo, they said he was right. That was FUN!! a good cohesive mini-arc!! Y E S !
Dean and Sam had the negative traits here, and I saw that thing being said that Dean treats Bobby as emotional support, which is RIGHT!! and then he’s his own man! like it turned a side character into his own character, and we got to see our main character through other people’s eyes
That whole thing of Bobby being so OP because he knew all the lore, he summoned ghosts, demons, he handled it all, found that old lore to deal with Demons, like. holy fuck, good use of lore. Also I liked the contract being written on people’s skin. And the improvisation was insane!
Crowley’s a bitchy disney villain who snarks when he’s in trouble. He’s a fucking icon. I love him.
JODY!! I FUKCING LOVE HER AND RUFUS!!!!
#pawswatchesspn#6X4 Weekend at Bobby's#probably due to Formula Breaks#I really liked this one.#And I liked Bobby’s arc#how people were supporting him after it was clear how much he supported them#this one was GREAT :D
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The Teleprompter Interview: Katy Wix ‘My First Screen Crush was King Kong’
https://ift.tt/33I5zd9
“Anchors, rigging, shackles,” lists Katy Wix down the phone, “poop deck, wheelhouse, three sheets to the wind…” The comedian and writer has had a productive year. Filming wrapped on Ghosts series two just as UK lockdown began. Since then, she’s finished one book – Delicacy: A Memoir – due out next April, is pitching another, writing a TV show, and thanks to a new-found obsession with Netflix yacht-based reality show Below Deck, has also managed to acquire an enviable grasp of nautical terminology.
Wix is an established UK comic actor, with credits across the board, starting with cult hit Time Trumpet and going mainstream as witless, lovable Daisy in BBC mega-sitcom Not Going Out. She’s currently part of Channel 4’s Stath Lets Flats, the hottest comedy around, fresh from multiple Bafta wins. She plays Fergie in royal satire The Windsors, and was among the comedian-contestants in series nine of Taskmaster. In BBC One sitcom Ghosts, Wix plays Mary, a 17th century yokel burned as a witch and now part of the motley group haunting a modern-day stately home. Mary’s distinctive west country accent “just came out”, says Wix. “It’s an insult really, because I can’t claim to do that accent well. It’s sort of a stock noise. The more I do it, the more I think it sounds like Nanny from Count Duckula. Ducky!”
Ghosts series two, which lands as a boxset on BBC iPlayer on Monday September 21st , will give fans more about Mary’s background, says Wix. “I think people will really love it, and then there’ll be another series next year, depending on the big C. Not cancer. The other big C.”
From superyachts to Alan Partridge, The Day Today to Ghostwatch, Anna from This Life to formative sexual fantasies about prehistoric apes… here’s the Katy Wix Teleprompter interview.
Your parents were quite arty, working in dance companies and the theatre. Did your childhood allow for much TV watching?
Oh my god, yes! My routine was: come home from school, watch the tail-end of Fifteen to One, and when I was really young, repeats of The Oprah Winfrey Show. Then it would be The Broom Cupboard, something like Round the Twist, then the sound of the Six O’Clock News and turning over to The Simpsons. I still do it now, if I’m at home and it’s five to six, I’m going to watch The Simpsons, it’s a tradition.
Welsh telly was slightly different to the rest of the country. We have S4C rather than Channel 4. I remember going through the TV listings and seeing what was on normal Channel 4, like The Word, then I’d look at Welsh Channel 4 and it would just be something boring in Welsh at the same time.
Was there a TV show that inspired you to start acting and comedy?
The one I remember the most is Abigail’s Party. Seeing Alison Steadman’s performance made me want to do character acting. It was just a phenomenal, convincing, detailed performance. Years later, I wrote a radio sitcom that she was in. It was one of those absurd moments where you just have to leave your body and look down on yourself to be able to handle it.
That must happen a lot, you’ve been part of a lot of great comedy casts…
What got me into comedy was Brass Eye and The Day Today. When I was about 15, that’s what changed my brain. It was the first time I’d seen adults being silly and coming up with absurd situations that were my sense of humour. Before that, comedy on TV would always feel like just something your parents would watch but this really felt like it was for us, for me and my friends. It was the same with The Office.
And then you were in This Time with Alan Partridge with Steve Coogan last year.
I was in sixth form when Knowing Me, Knowing You came out and I had it on VHS. Watching people like Rebecca Front and Doon Mackichan… anytime Alan had a guest on the sofa, the level of detail and all the reactions and the tiny little social awkward moments, that made me think I want to do that type of performing. So then, when I got to be in the last Partridge, it was mad. It was phenomenal to be that near to the character and all his tiny micro-expressions. Even the colour of his socks – this weird salmon pink – that was so perfect. Tim [Key] was there as well and we’re old pals, so that made it feel more like, well if Tim can deal with it. But I think even Tim now says he still has times where he has to go into the loo and give himself a moment.
Who or what was your first TV love?
This will sound like a joke, but I swear to God it’s true. It was a running joke in our family that my first crush when I was about four, was King Kong [laughs]. My mum used to tease me about it all the time. It was the combination of brute strength and these massive, soulful, pained eyes – which I still look for in men – that absolutely got me. It was an erotic connection for me. When I look back on it in a Freudian way, it feels like a really obvious, very heterosexual image for a little girl to have, because I wanted to be that woman in the nightie in his massive hairy hand.
Unusual, yes, but then a lot of people our age cite the fox in the Robin Hood Disney film as their first screen crush.
I do get that. I do get that. What was it about that fox?
He’s rakish. And politically, he was sound too – rob from the rich, give to the poor.
You’re right. And he was really confident too.
Growing up, which TV character did you idolise?
There are two, a younger one and a slightly later one. When I was 11 or 12, I wanted to be a fashion designer. I would draw outfits all the time in my school books and I had the Usborne Book of Fashion Design and spend hours on it. So I wanted to be Hilary Banks from The Fresh Prince of Bel Air because she just had incredible fashion. She always got boys and she was really cool and confident and wore amazing clothes. She was everything I wanted to be.
Then a little bit later, maybe sixth form or in my early 20s. I wanted to be Anna from This Life, so much and I kind of still do. Because she was tall and really cool and had dark hair and a lot of attitude and wore black a lot and smoked a lot and didn’t give a shit. That was my vibe at university.
Is there a TV character you’d like to be now?
Probably still Anna?
Which TV show gave you nightmares?
The massive one for me, when I was about 11 or 12: Ghostwatch. I went to a friend’s house to watch it and I remember being a bit like ‘yeah right’ watching it, and then when I got home that night, I just cried. I was in the bath, hysterical and my mum had to come in and calm me down. It was horrendous.
Everyone totally swallowed it at the time, because we were less TV-savvy in 1992. I remember they had a phone-in and someone called in to say ‘There’s a shape in the curtains’, which really fucked me up. The whole Pipes thing. I remember being in my bedroom and seeing a shape of an old man in the curtain all the time. I’ve got really vague memories of Craig Charles being in a park, saying that someone had killed a Labrador. I was thinking about watching it again. I actually don’t know if I dare.
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When did you last cry watching television?
Last night. Have you ever seen the show Below Deck? I’m obsessed with it. I’m not massively into reality TV but it’s an American reality show all filmed on superyachts that rich people charter. It’s almost like a perfect sitcom family – you have a different captain every time and the deckhands and then the interior, who do the hotel stuff, and then you have the chef, who’s always a temperamental big personality and then each episode has a different group of insanely rich, usually quite horrible, sexist people with loads of money who get really drunk, that’s the premise. It’s non-stop drama. You’re just watching people fall off boats and have arguments.
How did it make you cry?
In this episode, there was a girl who’d been really quiet and grumpy and everyone was slagging her off, and then she revealed that she’d got a text that morning saying her estranged father had died, so that’s what set me off. It’s got me through lockdown, it’s so addictive.
When did you last laugh out loud watching television?
Below Deck, same episode!
All human life is there!
I think it was someone’s malapropism, that’s my favourite thing about reality TV, the way people talk in a kind of Stath-like way and get it wrong.
What was the last TV show you recommended to a friend?
Below Deck! [Laughs] I’ve just got Lolly [Adefope] onto it, and Adam Drake – he’s a comedian in a sketch show called Goose and does Capital, a podcast with Liam Williams – he’s now devoted. One of my best mates was bemoaning that her boyfriend’s not into reality TV, but boys can watch Below Deck too. It’s got loads of boat stuff in it. Chains and anchors. I’m learning all these terms, like shackles, poop deck, wheelhouse, three sheets to the wind… That’s where the expression ‘in my wheelhouse’ comes from. Three sheets to the wind means you’re sailing off course.
Which TV show would you bring back from the dead?
Changing Rooms.
Good call.
I also loved The Late Review. I really loved that.
What’s a TV show you wish more people would watch?
Do you know Iyanla Vanzant? She started off on The Oprah Winfrey Show – I love Oprah so much – and she’s a TV therapist/healer/spiritual. She’s got a show you can only get on American TV called Iyanla: Fix My Life. She just speaks so much wisdom. She spends a week with people who are really traumatised and it’s their healing journey. It’s so moving, it’s so profound. She’s doing incredible work for the human race.
She did an amazing show called, I think, ‘The Myth of the Angry Black Woman’ with a house full of women of colour who all got to talk about this trope that they were angry and how they felt unable to speak without being silenced. She did a show that was rehabilitating people that had come out of prison and women that had been sex workers all their loves, just amazing.
Which current TV show do you never miss an episode of?
In lockdown, what kept me going was I May Destroy you, obviously, Below Deck, obviously. I also became obsessed with the Japanese Big Brother Terrace House, but it just got pulled because there was a suicide. It was so, so awful. I read an article saying the producers didn’t behave well, so I feel like I can’t like it any more. I love Succession too. I started watching this show on Netflix called Intervention and got totally obsessed with it. Again, it’s maybe ethically a bit dubious. It’s American, obviously, and they’ll film an addict who’s in a really desperate state and then the family kind of trick them, or persuade them to go into a room and then the intervention therapist is there and they’re like ‘Guess what, you’re going to rehab now!’ Anything that’s got human suffering, and then a redemption story in it, I’ll watch.
Given the power, which TV show would you commission?
I think about this a lot – what if I had a channel? I’d commission the sketch group Sheeps to make tons of series. That’s Liam Williams, Al Roberts and Daran Johnson, and so far they’ve only done live shows, but I would commission them for hours of TV. Colin Hoult doing his character Anna Mann, I’d commission hours of that. Everyone involved in Stath Lets Flats, I’d just say ‘Turn up, pitch and we’ll make it’. There’s a documentary from the 70s that I adore, that I would like to show again, which is John Berger’s Ways of Seeing. It’s one of the most beautiful, gentle documentaries. I feel like that should be on TV. And just whatever Gemma Collins is doing, commission that.
Also, you know in the 90s, late at night you’d get some weird, bizarre performance art happening on BBC Two? I miss that. The sort of stuff that was on after The Word. And then finally, maybe just all of Peep Show again?
What’s the most fun you’ve had making television?
Ghosts is where I probably laugh the most because of Lolly [Adefope]. We make each other laugh all the time. When me and Anna [Crilly] did our sketch show on Channel 4, it was incredible. It was stressful but exciting. It was such a nice atmosphere to be with all these gorgeous people that you find funny.
Stath Lets Flats is like that, because we’re all genuine mates. When people take comedy so seriously I really love it. I love that attention to detail. Jamie [Demetriou] and everyone involved really cares. There’s no ‘that’ll do’ attitude, everyone wants it to be the best it can be. Why not treat comedy as a science that you have to absolutely get right?
cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });
Ghosts series two starts on Monday the 21st of September on BBC One at 8.30pm. All six episodes will be available to stream on BBC iPlayer from then.
Delicacy: A Memoir by Katy Wix, published by Headline, is available to pre-order now.
The post The Teleprompter Interview: Katy Wix ‘My First Screen Crush was King Kong’ appeared first on Den of Geek.
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Reaction to Ghost
I think my brain exploded.
Although I usually focus on D&A this episode calls for a reverse approach. It’s (almost) all about Smurf, baby. I avoided all post episode internet doings so this is 100% from my twisted brain. You know, the one that exploded last night.
Smurf’s Wild & Crazy Journey
If I’m pulling a big job (okay, for me pulling a big job does not consist of committing a crime but having to speak in front of people) I don’t party hearty the night before ala Smurf. That was my first clue something was up. I also couldn’t figure out why she left the oxycodone spilled across her vanity—that was the first time I gave a verbal WTF so the SO walking by the room thought I was 1) talking to someone I had smuggled into the house or 2) hallucinating—but wow, talk about long range planning. And she totally nailed it (Julia, dear, I’m not sure using Smurf’s bath is smart, especially since she might be returning to the house).
What Does One Wear to a Funeral?
I know anything goes these days but I thought wearing all white was an interesting fashion choice—the better on which to see the blood?
Baked Goods
The coffee cake disposal! That made me laugh. That’s a level of hatred I’m not sure I’ve ever attained. No one was going to bake anything for her boys in her house. Angela’s look of disbelief on seeing where the coffee cake ended up was wonderful.
Driving Ms. Smurf
Smurf’s conversation with J in the truck on the way to chaosville was entertaining and scary as she doled out orders. Get Craig a book on parenting. What kind of name is Nick? She clearly isn’t a fan of Renn’s although when you can’t even remember the name of your grandchild it seems like you don’t have room to criticize. And, the pièce de ré·sis·tance (I just pronounced that with my horrible French accent): After telling J that Adrian’s been talking to the police, a lot, which wasn’t even in regards to The Codys but Smurf never met a truth she couldn’t twist to her liking—I don’t think Deran’s strong enough to handle this, do you, baby? Again, she’s taking down another obstacle between her and her boys even though she’s not even planning on being around to see the fruits of her labor. And here I feel accomplished if I remember to make lunch for the next day.
Jed You Are a Truly Twisted Man & Laney You’re a Hero
Baby Smurf was definitely smart to sleep with a gun in Jed’s house. I’m not going to lie, watching Jed chase down the super preggers Smurf was difficult. Laney knew she was going to get a beatdown for intervening but she did it anyway. And she’s a midwife on the side. Viva la Laney!
Walk Down Memory Lane
I loved Pope’s reaction to Smurf asking Jed to show her some goods—his WTF are you doing look was pitch perfect. It was especially heart breaking because Pope seemed to know nothing about his dad and here was his uncle (skanky, gross and horrible but still someone who knew him) sharing some history and Smurf was going to make sure Pope wouldn’t get more. Of course, at this point I thought her plan might be to take out all of her boys but Pope sure as hell didn’t know she was going to try to punch his number specifically.
The Queen is Dead, Long Live J
With the way the boys were standing post shoot-out, I thought J was the one in a position to take Smurf out and he didn’t disappoint. He was a stone-cold killer although I’m sure he would argue that he did it to save his uncle. He was the only one who could comprehend that Smurf had planned this as her farewell bash and since Pope wouldn’t fall in line J stepped up. I was definitely talking to the TV at this point. You know the writers have done a good job when I was thinking poor Pope when Pope has spread mayhem and violence wherever he goes.
Hello, Indonesia?
So. Deran and Adrian. Deran seems committed to getting them out of Oceanside—Indonesia, Syria and Angola don’t have extradition treaties with the US and they also have hella good surfing?—and when Adrian (who sleeps a lot for someone whose life is falling apart) asks if he’s okay post job, Deran decrees: We’re getting the hell out of here and we’re never coming back.
Magic 8 Ball
Methinks the best-laid plans on fleeing the country so I’ve used my Magic 8 Ball to generate a possible resolution to Adrian’s dilemma. Please keep in mind that I’ve been correct zero times this season (except for Colby but I think everyone called that one) but I’m still going to share my zany idea: Deran has the number for the doctor who will doctor the death certificate for Smurf so what if he offers that doctor money to do a death certificate when he fake kills Adrian? I’m sure Deran will receive some sort of inkling that J is going to take care of ‘the Adrian problem’ so he’s going to be extra motivated to do something (perhaps Indonesia, Syria or Angola no longer appeal) to save his precious. We see a tribute on the sidewalk in the on the next Animal Kingdom scenes but what if it’s for Adrian, not Smurf? I mean I would leave flowers for the hot surfer guy before I would for witchy Smurf, wouldn’t you? Having Deran fake Adrian’s death would allow Adrian to live (a must since I’m super invested in this fandom) and propel storyline for Deran. Because if Adrian dies? I think Deran will completely lose his shit and there isn’t room enough in the story for three off-the-rails characters (I’m counting J and Pope in this category). What does your Magic 8 Ball say to my theory--reply hazy, try again?
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Craig
Short and sweet and Drowley. What more do we need, right, my friends?
“This“ Crowley announced with all the certainty of a connoisseur, “is the worst glass of Craig I have ever had.”
“Too bad mister, you already paid for it.” The redhead at the bar didn’t seem the least fazed that a business man who’d just wanted to enjoy a good drink after a long and stressful day was going to leave their establishment thoroughly disappointed.
And normally, that would have bene the end of it. Only that Crowley was nothing if not a stubborn bastard, and he would damn well show this young lady that he didn’t like the Craig by drinking it as slowly as possible.
Not that she seemed to get the message.
Crowley might have – might have – considered that evening a complete waste of his time if suddenly a cheerful voice hadn’t called out, “It doesn’t get better by staring at it, believe me” only for the owner of said voice to slip behind the bar and say, “Alright, my turn, my Queen.”
“Ah, handmaiden. Punctual to the minute, as always.”
“You know me” the new barman grinned, causing Crowley, who had already been busy staring at him, all the more reason to do so.
He knew a fair share of beautiful men and women. He’d slept with most of them at one point.
But this bartender…
“Of course you don’t get a complaint” the redhead mustered. “Damn that Winchester charm.”
“What can I say? I got lucky” Dean grinned, then winked at Crowley, who decided that enough was enough. He hadn’t built up his own business empire just to get bested by a beautiful man mixing drinks.
“If you know the Craig is bad, why do you even serve it?”
Winchester shrugged. “Not my bar, not my problem.”
“I hardly see how it wouldn’t be a problem if your boss went out of business because of worse-than-average beverages.”
“Not my boss, Peaches” Winchester grinned again. “I am just helping out a friend.”
“What do you do, then?” To his surprise, Crowley found that he actually wanted to know.
“Ah, just the usual stuff, you know, to get by.”
“Dean” the redhead rolled her eyes “He teaches physics” she told Crowley.
Oh. So good-looking and smart, which meant spending time with him wouldn’t be boring, which was mostly what Crowley went for when it came to his one-night-stands.
Time to start flirting, then. “That’s why you work in a bar, then. You know how to handle… things.”
Why not be blunt? There was no reason for subtlety.
“Oh trust me, I do. Even douchebags who don’t know a good drink when it’s put in front of them.”
“Since you already admitted it was bad, I fail to see the point of this comeback.”
“Dean” Charlie hissed from behind, “Not that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing but Benny will kill you!”
“I’d like to see him try.”
“He was in a motorcycle gang, you –“
What an interesting life Dean Winchester must lead, Crowley reflected.
Not that it mattered.
It was pretty clear he was amenable to having a little fun; and then they would go their separate ways.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Look at who’s back!”
Crowley had fervently hoped that benny, who he was rather sure had no idea of his and Dean’s re- arrangement would wok tonight. “I happened to walk by”.
“Of course you did, and of course you don’t know that Dean’s going to take a shift today. You know, three’s a pattern.”
“I have been here more –“ he began before he could stop himself.
He’d indeed come to the bar every time Dean had worked there in the past six months. They both knew it. There was absolutely no reason to –
“My, my, it’s getting serious.” And without Crowley even asking for it, she poured him another glass of the most horrible Craig on earth while whistling Mendelssohn-Bartholdy’s wedding march.
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn’t like he and Dean were getting serious.
“Ah, Peaches. Can’t resist the drinks here, I suppose?”
He turned to find Dean’s sparkling eyes fixed on him.
Charlie groaned. “Can you two at least try to be subtle for once in your life?”
“Come off it, Charlie, it’s just a bit of fun” Dean told her and Crowley wondered why the sentiment made him feel uncomfortable when Dean was just echoing his own thoughts.
Ah well. Why worry about it? That was exactly what this was. Just a little bit of fun.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Absolutely not.”
“It will be –“
“I swear to God if you expect me top serve something like this at my wedding just because you consider sub-par Craig to be of sentimental value –“
“Has anyone ever told you that your accent makes everything sound way more pretentious?”
“Yes, you have, on several occasion”.
Dena grinned. “Alright”. He kissed Crowley in that way that always made him speechless.
Unfair, if you asked him.
He still made sure they had good drinks at their reception, though.
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I just watched Knives Out and it's one of the worst movies I've ever seen
Long story short: Horrible acting on the detective, the movie tries to be funny but isn't, none of the cast work together and the happy end resolution is contorted in a horrible way just so the main character can leave without blemishes
Short story long:
Basic setup is that the incredibly wealthy patriarch kills himself and a "master detective" has been called in anonymously to give the situation a look over.
The movie starts with very boring testimonies made by really bad stereotypes. We get flashbacks to things they've heard and want to bend before the detectives, which is decent.
You may note that I said "detectives". There are multiple but only one of them is even relevant. The other two are very, very poor comic relieve and straight officer. None of them add anything aside from awkwardness and something the main detective can say "no" to, in a feeble attempt to create a Columbo-esque weird personality.
That main detective is played by Daniel "most wooden male actor" Craig, playing him with an unconvincing pseudo-texan(?) accent. He plays exactly two faces: laughter (which is uncomfortable and seems fake) and I am Male, White and Conventionally Attractive with the midlife crisis version of an early 2000s duck face. Through the entire movie.
The main character is an immigrant nurse tending to patriarch, which of course let's the movie go for the horrible and completely unnecessary "Trump is good/Illegal immigrants deserve having their kids locked up in cages" perspective on some characters. This aids in nothing but making the main character blackmailable because of her mother. That thread is picked up once in the movie but leads to no consequence for anyone and has no actual bearing on any significant behaviour. You could cut that out completely and the movie wouldn't change.
The hook throughout the movie is that we learn early on that MC seems to have accidentally lethally drugged patriarch. She mixes up his actual medication for an equivalent dose of morphene. So they hatch a convoluted and in itself damning plan to get MC out of the investigations at which point the patriarch commits suicide. Since we know this so early on, the entire testimony/motive/character psychology we build up before gets thrown to the side. You know, the thing that makes a viewer engage with the story to puzzle on the scenario on their own? The thing that makes murder mystery interesting?
The testimony phase only establishes that everyone aside from baby booboo MC is sleazy, lying and has something to hide. You know, the thing that we all assume because it's a fucking murder mystery
We also give the MC an extremely specific flaw: When she thinks about lying, she has to vomit. Yes, this will very grafically be shown. Yes, it is mostly regarded as kind of a joke.
So, we have the exact knowledge of what happened like 30 minutes in, the only time the other characters are shown is them bickering which definitely doesn't get old like 30 minutes into the first scene and the detective keeps MC as his "Watson" (literally calling her that). Because obviously she can't lie. Aside from obfuscating the truth or ACTUALLY LYING in the detectives faces when she is asked about the night of the death. She says she administered "3 grams" or some shit of Morphene when she at that time is convinced of giving him something obscene like 100. No puking. Nothing.
Then we have the hijinks of the detective and MC trying to piece together what happened. Which involves a Scream quality top joke like chucking a piece of scaffolding away while the detective stands right there. That scaffolding having broken away when MC made her roundabout way back to the scene of the suicide because comedy clothing swap being used to make it appear like patriarch is still alive. That piece of scaffolding is later brought back by a dog. It is badly shot, badly executed to rebound in the plot, the works.
At some point, the Will gets read and has been altered a week before the death. What does it say? Everything, including the house, belongs to MC. The whole family goes to shit, they try to get the Will revoked or for MC to refuse it, screaming at her. She flees with the black sheep of the family, tells him everything, he says he helps her if he gets his share.
Then, we still have over AN HOUR TO GO. That hour is filled with a blackmailing letter over some medical record, the actual archive or whatever gets burned down completely. She and black sheep drive off, which leads us to one of the most ineptly shot car chase scenes in all of movie history, black sheep gets carted away, detective sits himself in MCs car. Which is inconvenient because the blackmailer wants to meet up with her at 10 am and Oh No, it's 9:56! What do we do?!
We ask detective if we can quickly get out and pick something up. MC then goes into a hair dressers shop, for some reason knows and it let through the back door without any questions and gets to the meeting point. And no, you are not missing any relevant information that would have this make more sense. It is literally just a bunch of inadequately strung together set pieces.
So now we are at the Black Mail Basement™, where we find a character dying. That character has been in like two scenes before. She isn't even questioned at the start where everyone makes their testimony.
Nothing of much relevance happens from then on for a good half hour or so until the confrontation at the end between black sheep, Daniel "have I got a wooden expression for you" Craig and MC. In this confrontation, we learn about the absolutely convoluted way of backbending the death scenario. Black sheep knows where MC keeps the medication for patriarch. He goes through them, switches the medication and the morphene and takes the morphene antidote. Since MC accidentally switched the two bottles at the start, she technically actually didn't even kill the patriarch. Because the liquids are slightly differently viscous and she could feel that. Nevermind the fact that the shots of her getting them out the bag show her holding both of them in one hand, but whatever.
We can then end with MC telling a deliberate lie which black sheep refutes or something, MC vomits him in the face, the cops now have his confession on tape and the MC standing at the front porch, the rest of patriarchs family outside. MC drinks from a cup saying My House, My Rules, My Coffee. Again in an incredibly inept try to spin some comedy into this.
#dear GODS#I looked at the movie and invisioned a completely different plot#Like from a conceptual level#but hell#even that would've probably fallen flat with that director and especially casting Daniel Craig#All that we have now is a dogshit movie#with badly written#one dimensional characters#an ending that was pulled out of their ass#just so the main character can actually keep what she got guilt free#nevermind the trauma of actually seeing patriarch committing suicide#and the fact that besides him#she apparently doesn't lead any kind of life#it's just bad on all fronts#though MC tries her damnedest to give a convincing performance#Knives Out#Movie#Movie Rant#rant#I don't even know what to say anymore#tbh I mainly wanted to write this for future reference#should I even actually want to make my premisse of what the movie could've been#.txt
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I Love Lucien Week: Soldier’s Heart
Anyone who follows me may have noticed I'm not one for revealing my great inner pain or anything of the sort on tumblr. But it's actually relevant to my post, so I'll make an exception this time.
@aussiegirl41 recommended TDBM to me, and as we tend to like the same things, I started watching 1.1. And found myself turning it off at the first Box of Pain scene, to not come back for another two years. I told Aussie that the lighting was too dark and I couldn't understand their accents, but now I have to wonder if something else made me switch it off. My father suffered from PTSD triggered by his WW2 experiences until his death at 59 from alcoholism. So....yeah.
What I've come to appreciate about TDBM is that the creators and writers went beyond just slapping "PTSD" on Lucien as a sort of tragic aura; they took the time to build the backstory and make his behaviors a result of his mental illness.
The risk factors for PTSD start in childhood trauma, which Lucien has in spades. It's not just his mother's death, but I feel that Genevieve was an alcoholic with possibly some mental illness tossed in, and his father was emotionally unavailable well before her death. I also wonder about the little details like there's so much about his childhood which he either didn't know about, or was given a different version, from the reason for Rosie the dog going away, to Genevieve's actual cause of death, to the loss of a pregnancy, to her diabetes. A sense of not knowing your reality is not a good foundation for a strong life.
My own father's childhood was quite different from Lucien's economically, but they share similarities which resulted in entering adulthood without the strength to face trauma. He was raised in great poverty in Appalachia coal mining country during the Depression. His traumas included his mother's mental illness, siblings dying as babies due to that poverty, and violence from union busting forces who would do things like rake the house with gunfire at night. Like Lucien, he was the sensitive, intelligent sort, not quite fitting into his world.
One of the most chilling moments for me was Nell's line, about what a sweet boy Lucien had been. It echoes nearly exactly my aunt telling me, "We gave them our sweet boy, and we didn't know the man they sent back to us."
My father was significantly younger than Lucien when he joined the Army at age 18 the day after Pearl Harbor Day, but their paths rejoined after the war. My father was recruited to join military intelligence, when the Army doctors rightly diagnosed him as now mentally ill, but they reassured him that this would now make him suited for the sort of things that they needed him to do. Although there's not been that scene with Lucien, I would think he would have been similarly evaluated and routed into intelligence.
It does seem counter-intuitive that you'd put yourself back into dangerous situations when you're already deeply traumatized, but there can be a need to recreate the trauma, to fix it, to control it, as much as to avoid heightened emotional situations. One of the fascinating things that the writers do with Lucien is weave this need to control the pain into recreating the crimes. Instead of his own horrible flashbacks and recreations, he puts himself in this other situation, where he can focus those heightened emotions while in the shoes of the victim or killer. If Lucien's in the events, he can control it to an extent, and not be overwhelmed by it. At the same time, he often put himself in deadly situations with this technique, showing several times no regard for his own survival, facing down knives, guns, hands around his throat with such relish that you sense he wouldn't mind dying. A real emotional turning point is 5.5, when he truly fights to live. After all, Jean's got dinner waiting and she'll be cross if he's late.
I've felt a certain frustration at fan reactions to Lucien's actions, as though it's something he could control. His emotional paralysis is a result of horrible awful things happening when he’s made decisions in the past. His drinking is about more than addiction. He needs it to sleep and to stop the terrible images. PTSD sufferers are still drinking themselves to death, even with many more medications available. It works. And in 1961, with so few options available, I can't see how he'll be able to stop. His brain itself has been changed by the trauma. He will suffer from nightmares, have hyper response to stimulation, mood disturbances, etc, for the rest of his life. I'd love to say that marriage to Jean will change things, but if the story were to be told realistically, not so much.
Which brings me to another similarity with my family and the show. I see a lot of my mother in Jean. Strong women, with a great capacity for caregiving, but who expect others to be as strong as they are. One of the little touches that I like is how Jean treated Christopher Sr with the same toughness as she treats Lucien--she has her own patterns to replicate. Although she understands that Lucien has been through a lot, I don't think she understands the true effect. I don't blame the character for this at all--it's completely realistic for the timeframe. He should put the pictures away, he should stop drinking so much, he should stop doing crazy things. When she says that everyone in the Colonists' Club had lost something/someone and thus Lucien had no right to have his meltdown, it really showed that she doesn't grasp the full extent of his trauma. Does she by the end of S5?
But there has been progress for Lucien in five seasons. Initially, I found the resolution to Genevieve's death to be frustrating because it just opened up more questions to me than it answered. But in showing Lucien finding peace in that, I have to interpret that as he's ready to move on, and accept there are no neat answers for anything. He's never going to have a satisfactory answer as to why his own family had to suffer so much either. And that's fine. He chases the bus for a happy future, rather than staying behind at his mother's graveside. That seems like such a no-brainer, but we can see that Lucien's been told time and time again in life, you don't deserve happiness. Everyone goes away. Look, there's Jean going away too. Chasing that bus is as difficult as opening the studio door. It means leaving certainty behind to accept a new uncertainty. There’s so much certainty in unhappiness; it never lets you down.
I was equally 'huh?' at his peacemaking with the spirit of Thomas in the telemovie at first. But I remembered how I had to make peace with my own dead father, and a lot of that came from simply aging, reaching his age when this or that happened and realizing your parents were just people making mistakes, having no great knowledge and skills to cope and all you can do is try for a better outcome. I find it as an example of Lucien's incredible capacity for grace, truly his most attractive feature.
I cannot guess what the writers had planned for S6 which makes me want to see it so much. Love won't cure Lucien. Though we've seen improvement, a sense of comfort and security for him, his PTSD won't go away. Having Jean beside him in bed shouldn't make the nightmares cease. But you know what? If the writers were to decide to make it all just go away with a POOF, I won't have a problem with that at all. Lucien and Jean deserve that happiness my family never had.
So to start off I Love Lucien Week, this is why I love Lucien, and have so much respect for George Adams, the writers and Craig Mclachlan for creating this character and honoring his difficult journey.
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THE INNOCENTS
Stills from a film. Starring James Norton and costarring Edita.
August 25, 2017
PHOTOGRAPHY: BRUCE WEBER
STYLING: DEBORAH WATSON
TEXT: WILLIAM NORWICH
This article originally appeared in VMAN 38, on newsstands August 24. Order your copy here.
James Norton is on the telephone, calling from location in Croatia. For anyone who isn’t familiar with the work of the 32-year-old British actor, consensus among the international film and theater cognoscenti is that Norton is one of the most talented young actors working today. He’s increasingly mentioned in the company of such British actors of note as Daniel Craig, Jude Law, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Eddie Redmayne. “Britain’s Next Superstar,” London’s Daily Express recently declared.
Educated at Cambridge and the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, the range of Norton’s acting ability is remarkable. His portrayal of Tommy Lee Royce, the rapist and murderer central to the British television series Happy Valley (available in the U.S. on Netflix) defines the word demon. That character’s counterpoint is found in the heart-touching Sidney Chambers, a countryside vicar who solves murders on the PBS-ITV series Grantchester. Norton was also critically acclaimed for his role last year as the nobly anguished Prince Andrei Bolkonsky in War & Peace, the BBC and Weinstein Company version of Tolstoy’s novel, directed by Tom Harper from a script by Andrew Davies.
He’s rumored to be one of the top choices to play secret agent James Bond in future films—“I hope Daniel Craig plays Bond many times more,” Norton said when asked by reporters about this—but when I speak to him, he’s months into filming McMafia. It’s an AMC-BBC crime drama written by Hossein Amini and directed by James Watkins that tells the story of a very different kind of Russian prince than the one he played in War & Peace. In McMafia, Norton takes on the role of Alex Goodman, a Michael Corleone from The Godfather: Part I type, who tries to transcend his Russian family’s criminal past.
In June, James was seen in Hampstead, the UK release of a film starring Diane Keaton and Brendan Gleeson. This fall, he will be costarring in the reboot of the classic 1990 science-fiction flick Flatliners. The latter depicts a group of medical students whose exploration of the afterlife involves near-death experiments with devastating results and also stars Ellen Page, Diego Luna, and Nina Dobrev.
“An American accent?” I ask and Norton laughs. Of course he’s done American accents before, including in a London stage production of Tracy Letts’s Buglast year and on Netflix’s Black Mirror. But Norton explains that his character in Flatliners was “my first kind of all-American dude. An agent of mine kept saying, ‘Find your inner dude, man.’ I find it hard to find my inner dude sometimes, so it was fun to actually find him.”
The art of great acting begins with an actor’s preparation, especially when they play as many different characters as James Norton. “Your process changes as you go and you learn what works and doesn’t work for you,” Norton says. “When I left drama school, I had this fresh, shiny folder full of technique and information and various kind of rooting and animal exercises, and it was ridiculous.”
Over time, Norton has distilled these techniques. Now, after deeply researching each new character and the world that character lives in for about a month, Norton puts that formal study aside. He tries to forget it, otherwise he finds that “you end up trying to play the research, and it’s a disaster. The most important thing I do in the lead-up—and this goes for all characters, once the more academic and cerebral work is done—is that I try to spend as much time as I can in the body and headspace of that person.”
That includes brushing his teeth, taking a shower, dressing, shopping, sleeping, and eating as the character until the role feels comfortable. Then, “when you’re on set and they say, ‘Right, okay, let’s rehearse this scene,’ that headspace, the emotions, the instinct, the desire, and all the things that come with that person are familiar and at your fingertips.”
He pauses, reminded of something. “I try and do the most mundane things, like go shopping and buy milk. But if I’m playing my character from Flatliners—who’s a complete dog—or I’m playing a psychopath like I did in Happy Valley, one day I can be a disgusting flirt and then, two days later, I’m a horrible psychopath and I’m sort of throwing milk around the room. So, my local shopkeepers can be a little weirded out by me.”
Norton was born in London and raised in the Yorkshire countryside. His parents are professors and his sister is a doctor. Although it’s been with him since childhood, he isn’t sure when he got the acting bug, since it’s not in the family. When I mention that I’d read he’d felt the itch ever since he played Joseph in a Christmas nativity as a four-year-old, he denies this with his characteristic self-deprecating humor: “I remember that all I had to do was walk from one end of the school hall to the other with Mary on my arm. But because I couldn’t see my mum and dad in the audience, all I did was scream and wail all the way across. I remember it clearly. I was like, ‘My audience isn’t here.’ The diva in me was already there, age four.”
He read theology at Cambridge with a specific interest in Eastern religions and also acted. Enjoying the acting tremendously and encouraged by a college theater director, Norton applied to RADA. Theater roles came first, but his breakout came with the aforementioned role in Happy Valley, which began airing in 2014. In 2010, just as his career was taking off, Norton was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. With daily insulin injections and glucose levels tests, managing the condition is a challenge—tracking his health, fitness, and diet has become necessary—but he hasn’t let it get in his way. Nor has he allowed a condition on the other side of the scale to trip him up: his good looks.
Concerning his dreamboat status, he tells a story about visiting with a great aunt not too long ago. Sitting across from each other at lunch, she studied him. Something puzzled her. “I don’t understand how you can look so good on telly, because you’re so bland in normal life,” his great aunt mused. Must be the breeches and the floppy hair, he told her.
As for fashion, he likes vintage clothing and spends time going to flea markets to find pieces “that have a memory attached to them,” like a sheepskin coat he bought for $50 from a “Russian psychopath” while filming War & Peace and a jacket he bought some 15 years ago in Berlin that he treasures to this day.
Whether it’s finding costumes and vintage clothing with provenance or playing roles that range from transcendent saints to terrifying sinners, fascination with discovering and telling stories inspires his work. “You have to empathize with people even if they are the most abhorrent, villainous creatures. You have to understand their motives and where they’re coming from.” Finding empathy is also his philosophy for life, on or off stage.
Around this point in the telephone conversation, an aide jumps on the line to remind Norton that he needs to return to set. “Acting is a privilege,” he says. “You get to learn about all these different parts of history and worlds, genders and sexualities.” To truly empathize with a character requires breaking down “all those judgments and preconceptions. Hopefully, it will make you a more understanding person in the long run. If it doesn’t, you’re probably doing something a little bit wrong.”
But anyone can tell that James Norton is doing things more than a little bit right.
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24th September 2017
My alarm went off at 0800. I didn't actually give myself enough time to get ready for work which was weird but I needed the sleep. I had to leave in 45 minutes and I ended up laying in bed for another 15-20 minutes. I was late, of course. Well, I say late, I got there at 0902. I started at 0900. The walk to work was really hot and it's only spring here. This is going to get horrible soon. I got in and work was stupidly busy. It was 'go go go' from the moment I stepped through the door and it didn't stop the whole shift. Lexi started at 1200. Rachel was starting to do the rota for tomorrow as she walked through the door so we were both waiting to have a look. Our names were down together at the bottom which means we're both going to be on the late shift. I haven't done the late yet so I was excited to see what I prefer. I reckon I'll prefer the evening. Jess was learning the tills with me at one point. Which is weird because I'm still learning myself. Two red neck Australian's came over and asked for Iced Coffees. She struggled to find them on the till and they laughed. One of them went "That's why we won the war poppet, because you're too slow"... I was fuming. If I were in a cartoon, I would've been bright red with steam coming out of my ears. If I weren't new, I would've just asked them to leave. I wouldn't want business from people like that. I don't think Jess realised what they said because she was too focused on trying to use the till. Plus, the language barrier is difficult. Her English is good enough though. I'm finding that Australian's don't really like English people. Not up in Queensland anyway. Whenever anyone hears my accent, they say "ah, you're a pommy". They say it really sarcastically with a hint of disappointment. It happens a good 2-3 times a day. Luckily, before I knew it, my shift was over. 1600 came around so fast and I loved it. My feet were absolutely killing me and I was starving. I got home around 1630 after faffing about at the end of my shift and then with the walk home. I got into the shower straight away because I stank of hot, gone off milk and I was so sticky from the humidity. Steve had a very busy day of doing nothing again. I'm so jealous. I want to lay around and do nothing. I realised that we only have 6-7 weeks left until the date that we wanted to start our East Coast trip. With the money that we have at the moment, we probably won't be able to do what we wanted which is a massive shame. I'll get just under half of what we needed if I carry on the way I'm working which is fine, I guess. I just hope that Steve can find something soon so that we can do the things we want too. I was starving and Steve wasn't really hungry so I had some beans on toast. I really wanted spaghetti bolognese but there was no point cooking the mince for one. It's our last bit of meat so I'll save it for when we'll both eat it. After dinner, I put the movie 'Mr and Mrs Smith' on. Steve had never seen it before and it was one of the DVD's that I managed to pick up from the office. I'm going to change them over soon. I'm so pleased we have a DVD player now, I just need to find the time now! We had a cup of tea and some English chocolate fingers which was nice. After the film, my Dad, Ange and Craig FaceTimed me whilst they were at Lakeside. It was short but sweet. I have so many people I need to catch up with but it's so difficult. For the people at home, they only have us to catch up with. We have everyone to catch up with and it's so hard with the time difference. Harder than I thought it would be. We fell asleep pretty much straight away.
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