Tumgik
#Crawford Long Hospital
Text
The problem with discussions about Henry Crawford is that there are two different questions being asked at the same time: 1) Can Fanny reform Henry? and 2) Can Henry reform?
Austen answers negatively to the first one, but I'd argue she's very ambivalent in her answer to the second.
Austen is not in the habit of "punishing" her villains; none of them are struck by accidents of fortune or anything the like, but we commonly perceive the downgrade between what they could have had and what they end up having. Edward Ferrars is an infinitely preferrable husband to Robert Ferrars, but Lucy Steele never seems to become aware of that fact. Isabella tries to get Captain Tilney over James Morland. Mr. Elliot is not crying by the corners over the fact that he lost Anne Elliot. Even Willoughby's regret is not about Marianne's actual goodness, but his personal convenience. Austen's "villains" as a rule are morally stupid people.
When Aristotle says that no one can be good who is stupid, he doesn't have in mind things like being good at Math or being well read or quick-witted; he's thinking of a certain intuition, clear-sightedness about what is good, what contributes to human flourishing, and this seems to be a strong component of what Austen calls sense. Sense is almost convertible (if not completely) with prudence, and prudence is a rather intuitive virtue, as it regulates the when, the how, the how much, etc of the other moral virtues. (and there goes my first thesis topic that I never did!).
In that way it is interesting that only 4 characters are said to possess sense in Mansfield Park: Edmund, Fanny, Henry, and Tom (and Tom doesn't even fully count, because his is expressed negatively: instead of having sense, he doesn't lack it). Here are the Henry instances:
"He did not want them to die of love; but with sense and temper which ought to have made him judge and feel better, he allowed himself great latitude on such points." "Henry Crawford had too much sense not to feel the worth of good principles in a wife, though he was too little accustomed to serious reflection to know them by their proper name; but when he talked of her having such a steadiness and regularity of conduct, such a high notion of honour, and such an observance of decorum as might warrant any man in the fullest dependence on her faith and integrity, he expressed what was inspired by the knowledge of her being well principled and religious." "That punishment, the public punishment of disgrace, should in a just measure attend his share of the offence is, we know, not one of the barriers which society gives to virtue. In this world the penalty is less equal than could be wished; but without presuming to look forward to a juster appointment hereafter, we may fairly consider a man of sense, like Henry Crawford, to be providing for himself no small portion of vexation and regret: vexation that must rise sometimes to self-reproach, and regret to wretchedness, in having so requited hospitality, so injured family peace, so forfeited his best, most estimable, and endeared acquaintance, and so lost the woman whom he had rationally as well as passionately loved."
(I'm not counting the one time Edmund calls him a man of sense, and the one time Sir Thomas does the same, for obvious contextual reasons).
It's not only interesting that he is the only rake to be called a man of sense by the narrator (Mrs. Smith calling Mr. Elliot a man of sense in Persuasion is clearly not meant to be taken straight), but that it is always specifically tied to moral perceptiveness; he was morally perceptive enough to know he shouldn't have played the way he did, and he chose to ignore it. He perceives Fanny's moral worth, and it is the core reason why he wants to marry her.* He also perceives William's moral worth as something both good and desirable:
"To Henry Crawford they gave a different feeling. He longed to have been at sea, and seen and done and suffered as much. His heart was warmed, his fancy fired, and he felt the highest respect for a lad who, before he was twenty, had gone through such bodily hardships and given such proofs of mind. The glory of heroism, of usefulness, of exertion, of endurance, made his own habits of selfish indulgence appear in shameful contrast; and he wished he had been a William Price, distinguishing himself and working his way to fortune and consequence with so much self-respect and happy ardour, instead of what he was!"
Both here and at the end of the novel, Henry's moral perceptiveness leads to remorse for his own moral wrongdoings. Compare this to Willoughby's regret over Marianne:
"Willoughby could not hear of her marriage without a pang; and his punishment was soon afterwards complete in the voluntary forgiveness of Mrs. Smith, who, by stating his marriage with a woman of character, as the source of her clemency, gave him reason for believing that had he behaved with honour towards Marianne, he might at once have been happy and rich. That his repentance of misconduct, which thus brought its own punishment, was sincere, need not be doubted;—nor that he long thought of Colonel Brandon with envy, and of Marianne with regret. But that he was for ever inconsolable, that he fled from society, or contracted an habitual gloom of temper, or died of a broken heart, must not be depended on—for he did neither. He lived to exert, and frequently to enjoy himself. His wife was not always out of humour, nor his home always uncomfortable; and in his breed of horses and dogs, and in sporting of every kind, he found no inconsiderable degree of domestic felicity."
This sense/moral perceptiveness of Henry Crawford, and his experiencing remorse for his own wrongdoings sets him apart from the other Austen rakes. He's also not a drinker or a gambler; he does take at least minimal care of Everingham ("Everingham could not do without him in the beginning of September. He went for a fortnight") and did some modifications to it as soon as he got it. The same way Darcy's character is revealed as we see Pemberley, so the inflexion point of Henry's redemption attempt is his trying to become a better master of his estate:
For her approbation, the particular reason of his going into Norfolk at all, at this unusual time of year, was given. It had been real business, relative to the renewal of a lease in which the welfare of a large and—he believed—industrious family was at stake. He had suspected his agent of some underhand dealing; of meaning to bias him against the deserving; and he had determined to go himself, and thoroughly investigate the merits of the case. He had gone, had done even more good than he had foreseen, had been useful to more than his first plan had comprehended, and was now able to congratulate himself upon it, and to feel that in performing a duty, he had secured agreeable recollections for his own mind. He had introduced himself to some tenants whom he had never seen before; he had begun making acquaintance with cottages whose very existence, though on his own estate, had been hitherto unknown to him. This was aimed, and well aimed, at Fanny. It was pleasing to hear him speak so properly; here he had been acting as he ought to do. To be the friend of the poor and the oppressed! Nothing could be more grateful to her; and she was on the point of giving him an approving look, when it was all frightened off by his adding a something too pointed of his hoping soon to have an assistant, a friend, a guide in every plan of utility or charity for Everingham: a somebody that would make Everingham and all about it a dearer object than it had ever been yet. She turned away, and wished he would not say such things. She was willing to allow he might have more good qualities than she had been wont to suppose. She began to feel the possibility of his turning out well at last; but he was and must ever be completely unsuited to her, and ought not to think of her.
I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon. I am not satisfied about Maddison. I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else. I must come to an understanding with him. I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property. I was not explicit enough with him before. The mischief such a man does on an estate, both as to the credit of his employer and the welfare of the poor, is inconceivable. I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from. Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace me; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already. Would it not be worse than simple? Shall I go? Do you advise it?” “I advise! You know very well what is right.” “Yes. When you give me your opinion, I always know what is right. Your judgment is my rule of right.” “Oh, no! do not say so. We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be.
This is even more hammered in by the narrator: "Had he done as he intended, and as he knew he ought, by going down to Everingham after his return from Portsmouth, he might have been deciding his own happy destiny."
All these elements seem to point towards his being redeemable; he almost managed it! If only he'd gone to Everingham instead of London, catastrophic failure would have been averted! And yet at the same time we are told this:
Henry Crawford, ruined by early independence and bad domestic example, indulged in the freaks of a cold-blooded vanity a little too long. Once it had, by an opening undesigned and unmerited, led him into the way of happiness. Could he have been satisfied with the conquest of one amiable woman’s affections, could he have found sufficient exultation in overcoming the reluctance, in working himself into the esteem and tenderness of Fanny Price, there would have been every probability of success and felicity for him. His affection had already done something. Her influence over him had already given him some influence over her. Would he have deserved more, there can be no doubt that more would have been obtained, especially when that marriage had taken place, which would have given him the assistance of her conscience in subduing her first inclination, and brought them very often together. Would he have persevered, and uprightly, Fanny must have been his reward, and a reward very voluntarily bestowed, within a reasonable period from Edmund’s marrying Mary.
Ruined by early independence and bad domestic example. Mansfield Park is in a way a rather pessimist novel: it is a novel about education, and once your education has "set", your character is fixed, and your fate determined. Much of Maria and Julia's disgrace was also directly caused by their upbringing in a household where all importance was given to superficial qualities, and very little effective affection was shared; one can compare the restrained calm of Mansfield as a reflection of Sir Thomas' own unwillingness to see reality and give himself some discomfort in making others comfortable, with the bustle of the Musgrove household, and connect the dots to what makes the relationship between sisters Maria and Julia so different from the one between Louisa and Henrietta in similar situations.
In the end, it's a bit of a Schröedinger's cat situation. Can Henry reform? Yes, says Austen, he has the qualities needed for moral improvement, but no, his upbringing ruined him, and his character is fixed.
While this idea is the strongest in MP, it is present one way or another in all Austen's novels. Characters reforming is usually more about one specific quality or moral tone not being fine tuned than proper metanoia. Darcy was taught to do right, and did right; what he needed was to add proper humility and kindness to his practice. There is an exception, though, the one thing Charlotte Brontë and Jane Austen agree upon: a close brush with death is the best recipe for moral cure in the otherwise incurable.
Maybe the key is to wish Henry a good pneumonia, or a strong horsefall-induced concussion.
_____________
*On a side note, it's interesting that before he proposes, he considers how attached Fanny is to Mansfield, as undeserving as he thinks the Bertrams to be of her affection, and even draws a plan that contemplates giving her pleasure that way too: "I will not take her from Northamptonshire. I shall let Everingham, and rent a place in this neighbourhood; perhaps Stanwix Lodge."
178 notes · View notes
thunderandsage · 3 months
Text
hannibal fic recs
(in honor of my first ever fandom… yea i get the implications of how that makes me look 😂 anyways, i tend to like the hannibal fics that are closer to the tone and content of the series vs some of the more popular ones jsyk, and i’m putting the more “same characters, different vibes ” fics in the bottom section. my absolute favorites recs are the ones with red titles)
SEASON 1 ERA/VIBES
Pièce Montée, 3k words, episode-style case fic with well-written original characters and plot, sympathetic killers, would kill (ha) for this to be an actual episode on the show
where there is smoke, there is fire, 3k, georgia madchen character study, reading experience comparable to the joy and dread of watching sparks catch on kindling
Foreplay, 1.5k, despite the title not a smut fic but is actually a hannibal character study which takes the premise “seeing people as meat” and seeing how he does/doesn’t view people’s humanity
SEASON 2 ERA/VIBES
Salome, 6k words, tension, delves into the dark obsessive side of oscar wilde’s work, excellent hannibal pov
As Smoke to Flame, 3k, wherein the seduction does include fucking and predictably doesn’t make anything better, focuses on the inherent angst and betrayal of will’s ploy
Trotline, 7k, takes the fluffy-sounding premise of “will takes hannibal fishing” and makes it uh hannibal, an incredible take on hannibal’s sadism/cruelty, gorgeous looming sense of dread
each according to its own kind, 192k, after getting released will ditches the fbi and leaves for the other side of the continent, a love letter to the pacific northwest, the best will graham interpretation i have ever seen, slowburn character study, bonus points bc hannibal gets decked not once but twice in glorious detail, john steinbeck vibes, one of my favorite pieces of writing ever
pitiful things sometimes born in hospitals, 8k, daemon au where will has yet another difference, not a hannigram fic, beverly/will vibes, bittersweet and tragic
your heart is a vast stone desert, 10k, a conversation goes left field and enters the thorny splendor of psychedelic imagery and the most sinuous dialogue you’ve ever read, takes inspiration from ives’s play venus in fur
SEASON 3 ERA/VIBES
Silver Springs, 2k, a Dolce “let’s make this worse,” non-linear writing, heavy angst but god it hurts so good, gorgeous feels from the eponymous song
Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks, 6k, a short scene in the BSHCI, what it means to be loved gently by a monster, grotesque and tender at the same time
highway 190, 10k, will graham growing up as a queer man in the deep south and beyond, religious trauma, prose as vivid and striking as a poisonous snake
Churrasco, 2k, leans into the avant-garde vibes of the show, all characters start out using false identities and you get to see them revealed slowly
Au Natur, 9k, a bleak but beautiful imagining of post-fall hannigram, fully embraces will graham’s manipulative tendencies
forgiveness, 1k, a poem-with-footnotes format as Will attempts to explain what his life has become to his father
Sins of Omission, 15k, Jack Crawford’s perspective on the development of hannigram, regret, very good outsider pov
VIBES-ADJACENT (aka fics that don’t “feel hannibal” or are vy AU, but are vy good nonetheless)
Adrasteia, 96k words, Kitchen Nightmares AU, nsfc (not safe for chilton), a hilariously sarcastic and done(tm) will graham, the first long hannibal fic that i read
Black Swan, 10k, as per the tags “all serial killers are birds, some birds are serial killers,” a cracky Swan Lake AU
Separately to a Wood, 13k, a “love at first sight” leads to “proposal during the breakfast scene,” soft
They Came to Florence or: Plagiarize This Fic, 5k, hannibal is a huge fan of will graham’s novels and becomes incensed when someone plagiarizes them, the author was apparently inspired to write this after someone plagiarized one of her fics and i respect that
Poppies, 5k, wherein it is acknowledged that for all the horror she’s been through abigail is just a teenage girl and is allowed some soft moments
their beaks not yet turned red, 134k, magical realism au where the baby does miraculously save the marriage, includes hilarious takes on the inherent absurdities of hannibal’s trial
Be Your Dog, 4k, a rock band au that adapts will graham’s proverbial “descent to the dark side” with an ominous intensity
Sagittarius, 13k, a salem witch trials au where will seeks to avenge abigail’s death by any means necessary, dark but cathartic
a siphon; to pass through, 71k, will has type one diabetes and hannibal is an infuriatingly smug vampire, crack but extremely well-written
78 notes · View notes
aguillar · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
  *  //   𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝙋𝙐𝙍𝙀 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙊𝘿𝙎.
if you want 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 , you got it 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 on the street , 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 on the rocks blood in the gutter , 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥 you want blood , you got it – 𝙊 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚
OS JOGADORES
Diferente do rugby tradicional, o 𝙧𝙪𝙜𝙗𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙨 é uma modalidade com time reduzido, e que pede mais versatilidade dos jogadores em campo.
𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩: Raynar Hornsby (@zeusraynar), camisa 1 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫: Seth Crawford (@psarakizs), camisa 2 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩: Pallas Torres (@pallastorres), camisa 3
𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙨
𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐦-𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟: Ian Dietrich (@sonofthelightning), camisa 9 𝐟𝐥𝐲-𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟: Santiago Aguillar (@aguillar), camisa 10 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠: Archibald Edwards (@thatbakerboi), camisa 11 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞: Aidan O'Keef (@aidankeef), camisa 13 + capitão
HEADCANONS
𝐈. É comum que fãs de rugby adotem músicas populares como canto de estádio durante partidas. Os 𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨, fãs do Long Island Pure Bloods, adotaram If You Want Blood (You Got It) do AC/DC como hino extraoficial do time.
𝐈𝐈. A logo dos Pure Bloods nem sempre foi tão polida: inicialmente, a 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙖 𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖 surgiu como uma mancha de tinta durante a tentativa falha de customizar o primeiro uniforme, e gostaram tanto do visual que incorporaram o acidente como parte da identidade do time.
𝐈𝐈𝐈. Mesmo durante a abertura da fenda e com a ausência dos deuses, os integrantes do time continuaram a 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙧 𝙚𝙢 𝙨𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙤: sentiam diferentes níveis de vergonha por se preocupar com a própria diversão em um momento tão delicados, mas sabiam precisar de uma válvula de escape segura para a agressão.
𝐈𝐕. Os jogadores do Pure Bloods tem um rito apelidado pela torcida como 𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙍𝙞𝙩𝙚: antes de cada partida, os jogadores colocam a mão em um recipiente de tinta laranja, e marcam seus rostos com uma pintura de guerra – três riscos cruzando da testa à bochecha no lado esquerdo, como marcas de garras sangrentas a cortar seus olhos. (inspiração)
𝐕. O mascote do time é o 𝙡𝙤𝙗𝙤, e eles tem uma fantasia fajuta comprada no eBay e que só foi usada uma única vez. Tentam recrutar um pobre desavisado para vesti-la sempre que possível, mas ninguém parece disposto por conta do quão abafada e fedorenta a fantasia é.
𝐕𝐈. Sempre entram em campo com uma formação em V, tal qual uma matilha de lobos faria, e puxam um 𝙪𝙞𝙫𝙤 que é correspondido por sua pequena e ávida torcida.
𝐕𝐈𝐈. A temporada de recrutamento de novos jogadores acontece sempre em Fevereiro, e é conhecida no Acampamento Meio-Sangue como 𝙁𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙝 𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣.
𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈. Para dar boas-vindas aos novatos no time, todos os jogadores saem do acampamento juntos após a Fresh Blood Season para 𝙙𝙤𝙖𝙧 𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙚 em um hospital. Não o puderam fazer esse ano devido às restrições no ir e vir de campistas, o que os fez sentir diferentes níveis de indignação contra os deuses.
𝐈𝐗. Os maiores rivais dos Pure Bloods são os 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙩𝙨, que alegam que os semideuses gregos roubaram o animal símbolo de Roma e tem como missão não o deixar barato. Os jogadores do clube inimigo costumam os chamar de corujas e imitar o canto da ave para os alfinetar.
𝐗. Como nem todos no time são herdeiros, realizam uma festa uma vez por ano para arrecadar os fundos necessários para ir às competições e investir em equipamentos. Essa festa acontece sempre em Outubro, de maneira clandestina, e é apelidada de 𝙒𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙬𝙤𝙡𝙛 𝙉𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 porque todos os campistas se transformam em lobos por uma noite.
58 notes · View notes
lauriegraham01 · 1 year
Text
i know you
pairings: will graham x gn!reader
summary: wills just been released from the baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane, he's lost parts of himself and you try to calm him through the storm that is his mind.
wc: 1,202
a/n: inspo from two songs actually: bobby by alex g, i know you by faye webster, and maybe a line of maroon by ts.
will, you have been my rare gift in this life- <3
Tumblr media
It's been four days since Will had been released from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.
Not even within the hour of being released, Jack Crawford had him back on the field. You added to your list of grievances against Jack when Beverly shot you a text saying Will was working on the case of Miriam Lass. You felt defeated as one of the poisons in Will's life had managed to seep his way in again.
Jack wouldn't allow you to visit Will while he was admitted. He said your personal relationship would interfere with the case against him. As your boss, you knew he was in the right, but as someone who also knew Will, he knew the harm he was doing by placing you out of reach.
When Jack came to your office to tell you of Will's attempt on murdering Hannibal, he had expected any other reaction then the one you had given.
"He's been telling you from the start Jack but you won't listen." Looking up at him you see the unamused look on his face from where he stands towering over your desk.
"What are you implying then?" Leaning over he gets closer as he carries an edge in his voice. You know an intimidation tactic when you see one and you remain unphased underneath his gaze.
"You kill Hannibal, you kill the Chesapeake Ripper. Once you see the murders have you stopped, then you'll believe that it was Hannibal all this time."
You get up from your desk and grab your coat as you make way for the door before granting him one last look.
"Just like Will has been telling you."
Now Will's home, but he's not. After spending a few months locked away as a pawn in somebody else's game, he came back a different man. He lost a piece of himself every day. As everyone turned against him, and without having you as an anchor, he questioned his mind, his sanity, and his reality.
Right now you both sat side by side on the front porch of the farmhouse as you watched the dog's play around in the snow. You never thought that you would get this back, to be able to feel things were normal for even a second and Will wasn't battling forces of evil that were far too intricate for you to comprehend.
"I missed this," you break the silence that hung in the air. " Things feel normal for once."
"I don't think normal is something that I can go back to y/n," his voice came out hoarse, sleep still evident in his throat.
"There's still a chance though, right?" You throw a side glance of him as you bring the cup of your coffee within your hands, up to your lips.
Will stays silent for a while. You weren't sure if even you were waiting for a response, understanding if he didn't. His mind is no longer the way it was months before, operating in an entirely new way as he viewed the world through a different lens.
Yet you remained the same in his eyes. His perfect design. He knew that Jack was punishing him by preventing you from seeing him, and not seeing you for a long time caused irrevocable damage to him. The voices in his head told him that you wouldn't believe him, that you couldn't be with a man as broken as he was, that you didn't love him anymore.
He turned his head to look at your face. As you felt his eyes on you, you met his gaze and he felt his heart swell within his chest. He still felt that rush that surged through him whenever he was near you. Will has loved you through your toughest storms, but he didn't think he was worthy of your undying loyalty, love, and patience.
"Where's your mind at Will?" Voice gentle, afraid that he may shut you out at the sudden curiosity.
"I told everyone Hannibal was a killer...and nobody believed me."
There's a pain so evident in his voice that you've never heard before. An ache so profound so desolate, that it just confirms how it'll be a long time before Will would get even a fraction of his mind back.
"I did," you softly affirmed.
"I do."
"How can you love me?"
"Do you remember when we first met?" His eyebrows scrunch up, not understanding the connection or relevance to the topic at hand. Taking his silence as means to go on, you think back to all those years ago to when you and Will were still in your lunchbox days.
"I grabbed your hand and you tore my dress after I got so upset at the amount of mud that caked at the bottom of it. You've cleaned up so many of my messes over the years Will as I have for you. With you, I've felt things I can't express and I know you've lost your way and made your messes but I'll clean it for you."
You reach out for his hand and with fingers intertwined, he feels a sense of comfort-something that had almost become foreign to him. But of course you were the one to remind him of that feeling, because even after this time you were the candle burning in the bleak of the night. The one shred of hope he had left that there was good in this world, that the raging seas that his mind traveled through would one day calm down to still waters.
"Did you ever lose faith in me?"
"No," you immediately replied.
"I told you a long time ago that I had enough faith for the both of us and I meant it." Squeezing his hand, he took note of how your eyes shifted around as you tried to fight off the intense wave of emotions he knew were consuming you.
"I didn't lose it then even when you tried to have Hannibal killed. I know you had your reasons and I could understand why you did what you did. And there's no way in hell i'm gonna lose it now."
"I love you unforgivably Will, without hesitation." Your voice comes out high pitched towards the end as you felt your throat tightening.
"I'm here regardless of the pain, don't ever tell me to go away from you. I know you, Will. I love you."
He lets go of your intertwined hands before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to him. He laid his chin on top of your head as you burrowed your face into the side of his neck. The scent of his aftershave filled your senses and you let out a heavy sigh, grateful that moments like these could happen. Grateful that Will was here and hopeful that there could be a path to healing.
"I know you too, and I love you y/n," he whispers as he pulls back to capture your lips in a soft kiss. The lips that he knew he could always call home.
208 notes · View notes
Text
ACCOUNT INFOOOO ‼️‼️‼️ !Pinned!
➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴
Tumblr media
I'm Matthew Brown! Call me Matt, but if you're Will Graham you can call me Daddy~ ;} I'm sure it'll be fun to interact with you all, but I'm mainly here because a little birdie told me ᴡɪʟʟ ɢʀᴀʜᴀᴍ had an account! 🤭🤭
🌹➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴
❥ I like to write, read (people), stalk Will Graham, and annoy people ;33 {I will do ANYTHING. Anything. For Will Graham. Except leave him alone, of course.}
♡ Ex-Fake-Orderly for the 'Baltimore State Hospital For The Criminally Insane' (boring if it wasn't to get to see Will <33).
❥ I use He/Him and They/Them pronouns mainly, but I otherwise don't particularly care!
♡ I don't have any pets but sometimes when Will isn't home he doesn't know I watch over his dogs (for free!) I prefer cats but for Willy I'd become a dog-lover. <33
❥ The next Chesapeake Ripper and THE BEST killer-imitator!
♡ I am 29 (Age is just a number Will), and my birthday's January 23rd!
❥ If any of you have dogs you're planning to give to Will Graham, please give them to me instead so I can give them to him myself.🙏🙏
♡ Chilton, Crawford, and Lector, have fun finding me!! You all deserved what you got! (You too Gideon, though, a little too late to tease I suppose?)
❥ Currently unemployed. ;p
➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴
Mod/Matthew Info Up Next
➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴
[[ Hiii! This is an Askbox for Matthew Brown, from Hannibal NBC. I heavily inspired this info-post and account from @mongooseundertheporch , so thank you to it! ]]
(Rules + RP/Mod Info Below)
-Mod is an adult, no minors for anything sexual with Matthew! >:(
-Minors allowed outside NSFW
-The one and only (hopefully) Matthew Brown for @mongooseundertheporch 's Will Graham
-Open to long-term or short-term rp with anyone, crossover or otherwise, OC or Hannibal characters
-DMs and Asks are welcome and open!!
-Mod uses He/Him or They/Them
-This is an rp account!
➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴
Matthew Info:
- This Matthew is jumping all around the timeline, whether popping up in season one or breaking out in season 3!
- I hc this Matthew as bi and romantically obsessed with Will Graham
➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴
(Tags;) /AGAIN INSPIRED BY (copied) @mongooseundertheporch BECAUSE IT IS GOOD AT MAKING TAGS AND I'M UNORIGINAL!! ‼️‼️
- mattbsasks ➵ anyone, any age can send nonsexual asks from/to Matthew
- mattbsasks18+ ➵ anyone *18+* can send NSFW asks from/to Matthew (NO MINORS!)
- mattbsreblogs ➵ reblogs
- mattgettingshot ➵ fics/writing/general thoughts
- stealandregiftwilldogs ➵ gift me dogs to send will please 🙏🙏
- matthewstalkinggraham ➵ anything, ANYTHING Will Graham related
- modpost ➵ post from the mod (meee hiii)
➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴
[characters]
Will: @mongooseundertheporch
Hannibal: @yourtastefulcannibal
Abigail: @adoptedbythemongoose
Freddie: @imgonnabeyourtattlecrimebitch
20 notes · View notes
bad268 · 3 months
Note
Jak crawford x reader to celebrate his win 🙏
Props to You (Jak Crawford X Reader)
Fandom: RPF/F2/F3
Requested: Clearly (it's kinda short but I wanted it out by eod)
Warnings: none
POV: Second Person (You/your)
W.C.: 644
Summary: Jak Crawford wins in Barcelona!
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
Tumblr media
~~(^@/Formula2’s instagram from June 23, 2024)
Honestly, standing beneath the podium without your boyfriend was something you missed. Usually, you would be standing beside Jak as you both cheered on your friends, but today, you stood with just your friends as Jak was up on the podium. This was what you missed.
Looking up at Jak as his national anthem played brought the biggest smile to your face. You knew there was a chance for the race win, but it was just surreal having it come to fruition. It’s been a difficult year so far for Dams, but you never gave up hope. Plus, Jak loved this track. You knew too never bet against Jak in times like this.
You cheered the loudest of the crowd when the American national anthem ended, and Jak looked out to the crowd. It didn’t take long for his eyes to fall on you as you stood in the same general area every time. He smiled and spaced out, looking down at you and his friends, until he was handed the trophy. He lifted it above his head before pointing in your general direction. You blew him a kiss and he got lost in your gaze again.  
Jak chuckled sheepishly as JM patted him on the back as he picked up their champagnes. He didn’t even remember JM or Franco getting their trophies or hearing the announcement to start the celebrations.
You laughed at his surprised face when he got sprayed in the face by Franco. It didn’t take him too long to be snapped back into the moment as he grabbed his champagne, swirled it around, and smacked it on the ground before spraying it at JM.
After draining their champagnes, they stood on the top step together for the photo-op they were always subjected to.  You pulled out your phone to get your own pictures before running over to the staircase they would walk down in a few minutes. You knew you would only have a few minutes with him before he had his post-race panel and debrief, so you wanted to make the most of the time you had.
As expected, it didn’t take long for them to come down, Jak running and almost falling down the last steps, straight into your arms. You wrapped your arms tightly around him as one of your hands moved up to run through his soaked hair. It was a little difficult, but it was part of the post-race ritual.
“You did it, baby,” You praised, not pulling away in the slightest. Jak tightened his hold on you if that was possible. “I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Jak replied quietly as he leaned into your neck. “I always try to make you proud.”
“You’ll always make me proud, Jackie Moon,” You comforted as you pulled back a little and used your hands to pull his face out of your neck. You leaned forward, making him look in your eyes, “I am always so unbelievably proud of you Jak. You are doing your dream and you’re doing it well. I don’t think I could be any more proud of you.”
“God, what did I do to deserve you?” Jak teased as he leaned in to place a small kiss on your lips. 
“Hey, give yourself some credit here,” You said once you two pulled away. “I could never be in Formula 2.”
“You don’t even like driving a normal car,” Jak laughed as he turned to just have an arm wrapped around your shoulder as you two walked toward the Dams hospitality. He gently took his first-place Pirrelli hat off and placed it on your head. You laughed as it covered your eyes before adjusting it and looking over at Jak.
“Well that, but I also need power steering, so props to you.”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
38 notes · View notes
whositmcwhatsit · 1 year
Text
Well, hello there
My, it's been a long, long time...
Once upon a time, a bored little girl was watching a documentary about a strange and beautiful boy singing a sad, lonely song.
youtube
And she was never the same again...
Tumblr media
Somehow I accidentally became an Elvis fic writer. I love interaction, so all feedback, comments, accusations, insults and awkward conversation starters are welcome, wanted and devoured!
Elvis Fic Masterlist
One shots-
Tumblr media
Cherry Delight
It is the hot, long summer of 1956 and Annie's best friend Margie has discovered a new singer that is not only handsome, but can sing, move, AND lives in their home town.
The Deal
Elvis has a wardrobe malfunction on set in Hawaii and discovers that the best action is not always happening in front of the camera.
Save Me
1976, Elvis is on his way to Palm Springs when he comes across a woman in need of rescuing.
The Gate Girl
Retired 'gate-girl' Chrissie is home on Spring Break and reluctantly brings her college roommate to the gates of Graceland to see what the fuss is about.
Stay the Same
Just before his induction into the army, Elvis reconnects with someone from his early touring days.
Afraid
In 1957, a girl and a boy meet at a fairground. They have their meet cute and there's a connection. It should have all flowed naturally from there. Except the boy is Elvis Presley and his life more resembles white water rapids.
Two parters-
Tumblr media
Something Else
In February 1975, two bored and lonely people found each other wandering the halls of a hospital in the early hours of the morning.
Part 1
Part 2
Ongoing-
Tumblr media
An Enjoyable Slide to Oblivion
Like a lot of girls, Chancy Crawford had once been able to call herself one of Elvis's girlfriends, but that was long time ago. Now, she called herself his friend, or his 'cousin' if any of his girlfriends asked. It was just easier that way. And their relationship was all about being comfortable and easy. Until she gets asked to come and join a tour that seems endless and cursed.
Tumblr media
Summer Festival
A young woman on vacation in Las Vegas in August 1970 unexpectedly becomes an Elvis fan and more.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Glimmers of Dawn
Tumblr media
A regular night at a bar ends with Aurora and her best friend being invited to Graceland by a couple of his employees, as long as they stay quiet, and don't touch anything or do anything to wake up The Boss, who's been holed up in his bedroom for days.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
156 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Miami Vice S1E23: Lombard
Sonny and Rico must guard a mobster before his court testimony.
We've made it to the S1 finale (although I will reiterate that this should've been the second to last episode and Evan should've been the finale)
I like this episode; I like Dennis Farina; I like Sonny's difficulty with how much he likes Dennis Farina; I like that this episode forces Sonny to think about the humanity of the people he's working "against"
Much like how I'm not a huge fan of the Other Val Episodes after S1, I do not particularly think there ought to have been a sequel episode to Lombard... but Michael Mann loves Dennis Farina a lot, so like, what're you gonna do
Lombard opens with Al Lombard talking with his son Sal Lombard; I could not be more tickled by the fact that for some reason Lombard Sr. is clearly an American-Italian from Chicago and Lombard Jr. appears to be a Hispanic New Yorker. Where did your son pick up his accent, Dennis
Tubbs arrests one of Lombard's goons; I swear the goon is one of the Boat Bears from Made for Each Other
When Lombard gets supinaed (the inciting incident of the episode), Sonny watches him (long before the camera focuses on Sonny) with what reads as intense, almost awed boyishness, like a kid watching their favorite athlete to copy their moves. It's weird, because at this point Sonny believes Lombard ordered the hit on Barbara Crawford (Sonny's old flame from One Eyed Jack) and verbally expounds upon how much he hates him. Nonetheless, from the beginning you get this odd sense that as much as Sonny hates him, he's also deeply fascinated by him
John Santucci returns, playing a different character than Corrupt CIA Agent Dale Menton. He's Lombard's duplicitous assistant here, also making this episode a pre-reunion for Crime Story
Castillo explains to Sonny and Rico that Lombard will end up getting killed if he testifies; Sonny says he hopes that's exactly what happens. He does not sound convincing-- you get the sense that he thinks that's how he ought to feel, but can't quite manage to internalize those feelings having now witnessed even a modicum of humanization of Lombard
I am completely obsessed with the decor in the malt shop Santucci meets his contact in. Why is there a giant cement cake in the middle of the dining room. Why doesn't EVERY restaurant have one.
Switek is apparently eating hot dogs to... lower his cholesterol?
In Lombard's hospital room, Tubbs sniffs a single rose while Crockett berates Lombard; he appears to steal it on the way out
On a related note, Lombard is constantly framed by flowers
While doing surveillance, Sonny suggests Lombard is on the way to the movies and Rico, in what I can only describe as The World's Worst Australian accent, says, "Crockett, never bring more than one suit case to the theater." Sonny responds "Oh really?" in the same accent, because they are a) in love and b) the dumbest idiots on earth
Thus follows a gorgeously moody low-speed chase (so low speed they politely go through a toll booth) set to U2's Wire. The lyrics speak to guilt and innocence and cold fire in a cold man's eyes, seemingly focused on Lombard's criminality. The full song, however, is about suicide by drug overdose. It's a desperate track, ending on the ambiguous lines:
I give you hope Here's the rope Here's the rope Now swing away
Are Sonny and Rico providing Lombard with a little bit of hope, or are they simply setting him up to die? Are the writers equating a life of crime with the self-destructive seduction and allure of an addiction to hard drugs? Are we supposed to hear the pain and need throughout the song as Lombard's, or Sonny's? Or both?
Lombard realizes that Charlie (Santucci) set him up; Sonny (in defense of himself and Lombard) shoots Charlie during the fallout. He apologies, saying he was "just doing his job." Much like the rest of his defensiveness surrounding Lombard, this feels very misaimed-- he was quite literally doing his job.
Lombard, at the safehouse, joking: Well, it's not the Grand bay. / Sonny, still pissed about everything forever: WOULD YOU PREFER THE YMCA
Rico gets sent out for pasta ingredients and Sonny sulks; immediately after dinner Sonny seems to have forgotten he's supposed to hate Lombard. The post-dinner scene reminds me immensely of the scar-comparison/U.S.S Indianapolis scene from Jaws-- three men around a table, making revealing small talk in the still danger of the night, two of whom are positioned as uncomfortable parallels (Sonny/Lombard and Hooper/Quint) and a third something of an outsider (Rico and Brody). Sonny has at this point warmed up to Lombard even though he knows he should hate him, the same way Hooper warms up to Quint even though Quint has been a menace to him up to this point. Sonny and Lombard talk fatherhood, and you get the distinct sense that the issues of being a Vice cop with a child and the issues of being a criminal mogul with a child are more or less the same.
Rico appears not to gamble, which is interesting to me-- we only even get implication and subtext on the topic, but he's really not much into vices. He doesn't smoke, is a vegetarian, doesn't seem to gamble, and drinks progressively less as the series goes on. He's never positioned as particularly moral for this, nor as a stick in the mud. He's just slightly outside the world so many of the other characters are a bit too deep in-- vice doesn't stick to him like it does to others.
Near the end of the episode, Lombard states the theme of the show out loud to Sonny-- you and I aren't that different. Sonny responds with: "Wroooong. I don't murder people."
Which uh
You are a TV cop, Sonny, you actually do do that
And uh, later in the series you. Uh. Well.
We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, I guess.
I think what works really well about this episode is that tension. This is the 3rd "Sonny is faced with a parallel that hints at a likely tragic future for him" episode, but unlike with Arthur Lawson and Evan, Lombard doesn't appear to be torn apart by the gulf between his job and his convictions. While the implication is that Lombard may die after the episode ends, Sonny doesn't know that-- his final moment with Lombard ends with a smile and a joke. Sonny sees his own convictions-- loyalty, love of family, living by one's own terns-- mirrored in Lombard, a career criminal, and it doesn't destroy him. He's very much like Sonny in many ways, but he's able to live with his own cognitive dissonance in a way Sonny, Artie, and Evan cannot, perhaps because he is simply able to admit that what he is doing is wrong. Sonny isn't there yet-- he has to be able to believe that what he's doing as a cop is right partially because he doesn't believe he's capable of doing good in any other way, but partially because it's painful. There's a penance aspect to Sonny's career in vice, and from his perspective, Lombard doesn't have to pay it. And despite all this, Sonny likes him-- Lombard shows him another possible vision of the future-- and he just doesn't know how to feel about it. It's still not quite as powerful a season ending as Evan, but Farina and Johnson sell it.
15 notes · View notes
adamwatchesmovies · 3 months
Text
The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
Tumblr media
The Silence of the Lambs is an unnerving film with memorable scenes, intense performances and terrific characters… along with plenty of gore. This makes it a horror film - the only one to ever win an Academy Award for Best Picture - so far. On its own, the central mystery would be enough but we get much, much more.
25-year-old FBI trainee Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) is assigned to interview Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins), a former psychiatrist and cannibalistic serial killer apprehended six years ago. Officially, Jack Crawford (Scott Glenn) wants her to convince Hannibal to fill out a questionnaire. Unofficially, he hopes she can convince Hannibal to help find “Buffalo Bill” (Ted Levine), a serial killer who has been abducting and murdering women.
It doesn’t take long for you to realize that director Jonathan Demme isn’t simply giving us another serial killer detective story. When Clarice hops into an elevator at the academy, all of the men inside tower over her. While she isn’t the only woman studying to become an FBI agent, there’s a recurring theme of her being debased or disrespected because she is a woman. Jack Crawford makes an unintentional remark to some police officers, Dr. Frederick Chilton (Anthony Heald) at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane doesn’t take her seriously and makes certain assumptions about her interview with Lecter (considering what Crawford says later, he might be slightly right), at least one inmate gets particularly lewd once he sees her. The theme continues with Buffalo Bill, who has a fundamental misunderstanding of what a woman even is, which leads him to commit his gruesome - and bizarre - murders. The only person (besides a female student played by Kasi Lemmons) who seems to treat Clarice with respect… is Hannibal.
Labelling Clarice as nothing more than "the film's female aspiring FBI agent" would be a mistake. Starling is a memorable character. She’s resourceful, smarter than she looks, doesn’t easily get rattled, and develops this odd sort of relationship with Lecter that says a lot about who she is and why she wants to join the FBI. At one point, Hannibal is offering her clues that could help her apprehend Buffalo Bill but in exchange, he demands to know more about her childhood. Obviously, he's using the techniques he learned as a psychologist to gather more information than even we could understand. During the interrogation, we learn where the movie's title comes from. Considering all of the grisly sights we see, it’s telling that the most chilling moment is that exchange. There’s something about Lecter that’s so dangerous. He’s classy. He’s smart. He always seems to have the perfect remark whenever anyone says anything to him. He’s alluring but just as you start getting close to the glass, you remember that he’s a monster.
With Clarice and Hannibal sufficiently covered, we can now talk about the mystery. If it took me this long, it's because if the movie was just a conversation between those characters, it would be enough. You’re glued to the screen watching them interact. You’re having a great time putting the pieces together, trying to figure these people out. Then, they part ways and you remember "Oh, right! The mystery!" How could you have forgotten? Buffalo Bill has captured another victim (Brooke Smith as Catherine Martin, who actually creates a memorable character with her few scenes). There’s only so much time before he does whatever it is he does to her. We've seen the other victims. We don't quite understand what it is that's going to happen, but we know it's not good. Martin’s mother, a U.S. Senator (Diane Baker) has the power to accelerate processes - anything to get her daughter back. Hannibal knows it. So does Clarice. Jonathan Demme and screenplay writer Ted Tally (who bases it off of the novel by Thomas Harris) keep playing tennis with you, moving you from the interviews with Lecter, to the mystery with the FBI and back again.
The Silence of the Lambs is a thriller that makes you sweat. Its horror elements will make you uneasy and one thing’s for sure, there’s no forgetting this movie once you’ve seen it. The performances are exceptional and even some of the smaller parts are far and above what you’d expect to see, even in a classy horror film - well, as classy as you can be when you have severed heads in bottles and rotting corpses dug out of rivers. I'm returning to the idea that it is a horror movie because it's an important quality of Silence of the Lambs. It's gruesome, it's thrilling, it's filled with engaging characters and it is undeniably frightening. (On Blu-ray, January 16th, 2023)
Tumblr media
15 notes · View notes
jokingmisfit · 2 years
Text
I’m (Not) Scared
Tumblr media
Hannigram x Reader
Prompt- “You think you can control me now? You never could.”
Warnings!!- The Reader is a serial killer, Graphic Violence, Manipulation, Mentions of Self-harm and Suicide, reader doesn’t like Jack or Chilton and imagines their horrific deaths, (this is honestly so rancid lol)
I sat in the middle of the one person cell. All the other cells in all the other rows were empty. I pulled my legs to sit criss-crossed as I waited for my apparent visitor.
Though, it may just be Chilton trying to have a session again. He never does learn. Chilton is dense and egotistical. He is fun to mess with, but too idiotic to understand the actual meanings of my words. It’s only a matter of time before I have a slip of the tongue and send this pathetic toy spiraling. That wouldn’t be favored, I’m sure, by either of us. 
I’ve been precise, distinct. I haven’t done anything truly worth punishment. It’s not like it’s my fault every therapist I had off’d themselves. They simply had weak minds, and they should’ve known better. No one actually thinks I’ve had a large presence in their suicides. After all, once I was hospitalized, I became mute. How would someone who doesn’t talk convince anyone to kill themselves? Guess they’ll never know.
Despite this knowledge I couldn’t wait anymore patiently for the day I could rip him to shreds. When I get the chance I know it won’t be himself holding the knife. 
I’ll remove his eyes from their sockets letting the organs pull and pop. I’ll jar them, they'll make a beautiful gift.
I’ll cut his vocal cords so I don’t have to listen to his arrogant voice. I’ll cut small divots into his neck just big enough to the cords before severing them. He won’t die then, no, that wouldn’t be any fun.
I’ll poorly patch his eyes, and I’ll poorly stitch his neck. Then, I’ll cut into his arms and use them as a canvas. I’ll carve him into a beautiful work of art.
All that time he’ll be awake and focused. He’ll feel every cut, scratch, and burn. Chilton will die painfully. He’ll die knowing he will be a perfect piece of art and a very sad rotting corpse.
It wasn’t the steps that brought me from my thoughts, it was the man clearing his throat. Switching my gaze from the side to meet the man's face. Jack Crawford. I haven’t seen that face in a while. I straighten up and smirk. It was hard to hide my giddiness. There were only two reasons he could be here. Something written on his face told me exactly why.
I look at him with intrigue as he glares back. Jack, always so stiff. Looking over, I notice two other men. Both faces make no connection to anyone I’ve met before. They’re incredibly handsome, the pair, but there is something lingering behind the coal and lazarus eyes.
Looking at the two he has roped along with him I catch something I truly haven’t seen in so, very, long. A black shoe box painted completely black. Purple and blue accents painted up the side blend and pop against the background. I knew this box well. It held the few items that always meant the most to me. Everything I truly love lives in that box.
I stiffen and look back to Jack. I tilt my head to the side.
He huffs a sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re going to play your silent game with me. You and I both know you love talking.”
I stared narrowly at him. Angering him is the goal, and I’d be lying if I said his evident irritation wasn’t satisfying.
“I’m not playing games with you Y/n. This situation is very serious. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” Jack said, stepping towards the cell.
The man in the suit butted in. “If I may, Jack, there is a possibility that they genuinely do not feel comfortable speaking.”
What the? It was stated oddly, but did he just defend me?
I noticed that Jack was saying something but I couldn’t stop looking at the man in confusion. Even the nicest, most smart people haven’t ever defended me… Why would he do that? Who the hell is he!?
“Okay…” The third man interjected. “We should start over,” He looked at me with raised brows. “Right?”
Frowning I nod back, letting him continue.
He said. “I’m special agent Will Graham and this is Doctor Hannibal Lecter. Obviously you’ve met Jack.” Will steps closer. “We’re working on a peculiar case and the killer is, well, from what we’ve seen, they’re obsessed with you. We would like your help in finding the killer.”
He talked slowly and kindly. It was an odd comparison to everyone else. It made me feel… Something. I just don’t know what it is. It makes me actually want to help them. Or more particularly those two. They’re so different.
He held the box up a little. “We were thinking we could find a common ground. We give you something that's important to you in exchange for something that's important to us.”
Sternly Jack cut in stating. “They’re going to help us and they don’t have a choice in it.”
A darkness swirled in my head. I gathered my thoughts and spoke, holding back a smirk. “You think you can control me now? You never could.”
“You’re going to listen because if you don’t everything in that box is gone.” He said waving his hand and scrunching his face.
“Oh, did you forget who I am?” I laugh. “Do it. Go on. Burn the box, tear everything in it to shreds, donate it to an orphanage, recycle it, sell it to the highest bidder, I really don’t care!”
I shake my head, smiling. “Well go on! Burn the pictures, Jack. Tear apart every little seam of that stupid bear, sell the necklace to a pawn shop, throw the little mp3 on the ground so it breaks into a million pieces! I can’t wait to see them go!” I couldn’t hold in my laugh at his mortified face.
“Jack, it should be noted the quick change in demeanor. You must know Y/n is an unstable person, threats do nothing but cause disarray.” Dr. Lecter spoke to him calmly.
It wasn’t anger that gathered like clouds in my head, it was violence. A desire to see the things I held tightly torn apart for no real reason. A need to watch heads roll and blood spill on the ground.
Like the flicker of a switch, the passiveness the doctor and agent made me feel shut off. 
I wanted to see him slit his own throat and watch it spray. To see the horror as everyone watches on.I wanted to watch him dig into his own stomach and pull out his most vital organs. To watch his skin bloat and then decay into a pile. I want to see every single piece of flesh be ripped from his body. To watch his eyes go lifeless after endless hours of suffering, but not feeling a light or peace. I want to be the one to send him diving to the divine, if there is one.
I no longer cared to listen. Why should I? I could rip his jugular out with my teeth. I could tear everything he worked for to the ground. I could, I could-
Why does my hand feel warm?
I look at my hand, but it’s not mine I see. Wills made his way over to the cell and placed his hand on mine through the bars. Is this man nuts? I could seriously do damage with this little space.
He moved his thumb over my hand. “I know what you’re seeing.” He whispered. “I know you’ve gotten so numb to it that you act them out, and that sometimes it’s the only time you really feel anything.” Will looks me in the eyes. They’re piercing and hold me in place. “I understand you, Y/n, and I know deep down you’re terrified.”
I took in a shaky breath. I try to pull back, but he holds my hand tightly. “I’m not scared, and I don’t need you to,” I hold my one hand to make quotes. “Understand me.”
He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “No, no you don’t, but I do understand you and you are scared.”
“I am NOT scared.” I state, but I couldn’t hold back the shaking.
“People who experience intrusive thoughts may sometimes give into them, but that does not take away the fear they have of these thoughts.” Of course the doctor had to chime in.
“I’m a serial killer. I murder people for the fun of it. Ask your boss over there about my case and maybe then you’ll notice I really DON'T care enough to be frightened by the big bad scary thoughts.” I state aggressively mocking a child towards the end of my statement.
I looked over to Jack to see if he could convince these two that I’m not that type of person, but when I looked over he wasn’t there. He seriously left. Why would he think that's a good idea?
“We agreed it’d be better if he wasn’t here.”
I’m not scared.
“Why don’t we make a new deal hm?”
I swallow.
I’m not scared.
They’re just two men. That’s not scary.
“You help us and we’ll help you.” He held my hand in both of his rubbing them gently.
I’m not scared.
I can’t breathe.
I’m not scared.
“Stop staring. I could kill you. Break your arm. Scratch you eyes out too”
The doctor smiled eerily. “You wouldn’t do that, you only say that because you’re frightened by us.”
I’m not scared. “I am not scared of you.”
I’m not scared.
“It’s okay Y/n, we’re going to help you.” Will emphasized with a squeeze to my hand.
I’m not scared.
“I don’t need your help.”
Why do they make me feel weak?
I’m not scared.
They both share a look with each other then look at me. Those looks.
Fine.
I’m scared.
436 notes · View notes
baberoe-archive · 6 months
Text
hiiiii everyone im going to make you look at art <3 okay <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
first up we got two photos from august sander's people of the twentieth century, a decades long project he never finished aimed at identifying and organizing the "types" of people in early twentieth century germany. in photos for this project he usually identified people along socio-economic and geographic lines. on the left we have officer, world war i, cologne (1914) and on the right we have boxers, cologne (1928). museum had a bunch of sander on display and they paired it with the shortcut to the systematic life: superficial life (2002) by tsui kuang-yu, which is outside the scope of this post but super interesting so i encourage everyone to look it up lol
Tumblr media
up next: the junkers officer (1934) by george grosz, another artist associated with neue sachlichkeit/new objectivity. im not well versed in german art but recently i have been so intrigued by leftist art of the weimar republic and it felt simply serendipitous. unfortunately by the time i saw this the museum was closing in 15 minutes so i had to rush out </3 SAD
Tumblr media
this is air war (1944) by ralston crawford. first time i heard of this artist! during wwii he served as chief of the visual presentation unit of the weather division of the army air corps in washington dc and southeast asia.
Tumblr media
negro soldier (1945) by robert smullyan sloan. sloan was drafted in 43 and illustrated army educational materials and posters for war bonds. the wall label says the title was given by the artist, which makes me think sloan didn't personally know this guy, which makes me very curious about the circumstances of its production. no name is given to the sitter, but he served in the european-african-middle eastern campaign in the army and was awarded a good conduct medal. sloan has a drawing at the met (station hospital [1943-44] ), but unfortunately i can't find much else about him online that might help contextualize this painting.
Tumblr media
i think it pairs really well with this horace pippin from 1943 called mr. prejudice. pippin served in wwi with the harlem hellfighters, and the soldier at center might be a self portrait. he has a pretty good amount of paintings about the war actually -- i normally associate him with landscapes for some reason, though i think thats just because the pippin at my local art museum is a landscape lmao. his illustrated war journals are digitized at the archives of american art if you want to check it out!
up next are some pieces of interest that i want to share but about which i otherwise have little to say
Tumblr media Tumblr media
L: untitled (military maneuvers at an abandoned mine) (1940-42) by harry gottlieb
R: italy goes to war (1941) by arthur dove
Tumblr media Tumblr media
L: christ before pilate (1949) by david aronson. wall text wants us to note the soldier's helmet is german
R: the funeral (1949) by francisco dosamantes
Tumblr media
ending with this delightful 1914 the wrestlers by henri gaudier-brzeska, whom the label quotes as saying, "i went to see the wrestlers -- God! i have seldom seen anything so lovely... they fought with amazing vivacity and spirit, turning in the air, falling back on their heads, and in a flash were up again on the other side, utterly incomprehensible." something about wrestling/boxing that make men gay as fuck. beautiful
15 notes · View notes
ironlvngs · 2 months
Text
— TASK 006
before, it was much more simple to be present for these interrogations; to answer their questions, play games to shift the blame on someone else (sorry, ex boyfriend), to paint the prettiest picture of himself... but that was before this was turned into a murder investigation, rather than locating a missing person. negativity has been sitting in link's chest since the day they announced it, and it hasn't gotten any better — day by day, it feels like it's been simmering in there, and now there's just this black sludge living inside him and turning everything upside down for him.
"— excuse me, mr. crawford? a drink?" the officer repeats themself, and link has to remind himself to act accordingly.
Tumblr media
"uh, sorry... i'm good for now, thanks." they respond as they clear their throat, bringing themself back to the reality right in front of them.
"well, then, i suppose we can get started." the officer takes a look at their partner, giving them the lead on this. "mr. crawford, did you have any reason to suspect greer morrison was dead before this news came to light?" link's eyes land on the red blinking of the tape recorder in between them for a moment, and calculates exactly how he wanted to play this one. "well, i can't say that after months of her being gone, the morbid thought hadn't come to mind for a second. but it was just easier to choose to believe she ran off on her own."
"right. well, lincoln, i'd like to ask you a few questions about ida clarke." a lump forms in his throat. link was probably the worst person to question about ida, given their very public distaste for one another — fights and arguments and name calling that only increased when they began to live in the same place. "what was the nature of your relationship?" link had to think quick. he had to wonder if they had any information on the fact that they had slept with each other not long before she died, because if they believed that he was trying to hide that fact, link would instantly become a target. it shouldn't be an issue, if she hadn't told anyone else, either. but then again, he wasn't ever the most trusting of ida clarke. finally, he responds. "not much of a relationship, really. we, uh... we were roommates for a little while, and we weren't very close." it wasn't truthful but it wasn't a lie, either. "but still, it was not the best.. hearing that someone you used to see every day and practically lived alongside with had died like that. it was the same with penelope, even though we weren't close, either. it makes you worry, you know?" maybe playing the terrified and traumatized young student afraid for his life card would gain the cops' sympathy here, and he'd avoid getting grilled.
"right, of course. now i understand that you were hospitalized after the fire, is that correct?" link nods his head, and lifts his sleeve up a little to show them his burn scars from the fire. "fortunate enough to have made it to a hospital at all." he adds. and thank god for it, meaning that he had an automatic alibi for ida's death. link knows he's innocent, but in this world, it's clear to see that anyone can get thrown under the bus — speaking from experience, from being the one to throw others under the bus so easily. "where were you before that? before you managed to leave the building?" not alibi enough, so it seems. "gosh, honestly? my memory is all over the place with that. it's hard to remember any other part of the night." immediately, the cop responds with another question, "and what exactly were you and other students doing at the commons instead of the commencement gala?" this is where link thought that he might choke. was it a better idea to admit that he had gotten a text from g like everyone else? or was it better to lie about it? then again, if someone decides to admit it, then it seems like he an every other student who hides it is lying about something. "well, to be honest with you, officer, the gala was becoming a bit... boring for a few of us college students?" he responds with a small scoff, a playful look on his face. "a few people were talking about getting out of there, maybe meeting up at the commons.... and, well, i followed them out. you can see how at the time, i thought it would be harmless to do so."
"alright... and have you gotten any anonymous messages over the past year? any with leading information, perhaps? or threatening messages?" link wanted to remove himself from this entire chain of suspicion — just another regular student at ogden college. "thankfully, i haven't." but that meant link had to be even more careful about who he talks to about any texts he receives. "and is there any information about greer morrison that you've become aware of in the past year that you haven't shared with the police yet?" "not at all — not since i spoke with you guys about her ex boyfriend. if i do hear anything, i'd definitely make sure to immediately report it." why not add a sprinkle of the noble citizen on top of this?
"well, mr. crawford, just one last question before we let you go... have you witnessed anything suspicious on campus over the past year and a half?" and this was it, link's favorite question. how easy would it be to fuck over someone he sees as a threat in whatever answer he can make up or lead the cops down a certain path? it had worked so fucking well last time (maybe too well) and he could definitely do it again. monty? milo? sassa's stupid fucking boyfriend? that was a weapon he could yield at any moment, though, and this was not the time to use it. "personally, with my graduation approaching, i chose to keep to myself and focus on my academics. so no, i haven't witnessed anything."
"okay, and i think that concludes all the questions we have for you today. thank you for your cooperation, and please do report anything suspicious to us — whether it's text messages or otherwise." link starts promising that he will, thanks them for their wonderful, oh so amazing service to their community, and exits the interrogation room.
that went well enough. at the end of the day, there was nothing link could do better than wear a mask and twist the narrative in any way he wanted.
8 notes · View notes
t3acupz · 5 months
Text
🩻🤍💉 Brownham Medwhump May 💉🤍🩻
2. Gunshot wound
Matthew blinked his eyes open but the blinding fluorescent light burned — he let out a groan, and quickly shut them again.
“Matthew?” A familiar voice spoke up close to him causing the heart monitor next to the hospital bed to beep louder. Matthew immediately recognized who that was, and his heart wouldn’t quiet down.
“W—” He coughed a response.
A firm hand touched his forearm. “It’s me,” Will replied as stoically as he could manage but Matthew could still hear the relief in the other man’s tone.
Matthew turned his head, the muscles in his left shoulder spasmed in pain. He remembered now, Jack Crawford shooting him in the shoulder, and him kicking the bucket from under Hannibal Lecter, and then…
“Did I do it?” Matthew’s voice was hoarse, he wasn’t sure how long he was unconscious for but it was long enough for his throat to feel like sandpaper.
Will looked carefully at the younger man lying in the bed next to him with tearful green eyes, desperate for an answer to the question that would fulfill his purpose in life.
“Yes,” Will whispered softly under his breath.
Matthew closed his eyes, and let out a deep sigh. The pain was worth it. He was alive, and Hannibal was gone. He felt tears roll down his flushed cheeks.
“I’m sorry for putting you in danger like that,” Will muttered as he interlocked his fingers over Matthew’s hand. “I should have never asked you to do something like that.”
“Did they find the evidence? Do they know the truth now?” Matthew sat up to be face to face with Will. He could see the cacophony of emotions in Will’s eyes as he tried to avoid Matthew’s intense gaze.
“The FBI went to Hannibal’s basement, and found…” Will choked back his own tears. “They found—”
“Abigail.” Matthew finished Will’s thought for him to ease the tension happening in Will’s mind. Will nodded, and squeezed Matthew’s hand tighter. Matthew didn’t push the topic further. He could tell that Will was at his breaking point.
“I’m going to take care of you. Jack told me that the address you gave Chilton was a fake. You don’t have a home, do you?” Matthew searched Will for any signs of anger but all he saw was remorse.
“I lived in my car when I decided to work at the BSCHI because they don’t hire people without a home address,” Matthew shrugged and immediately regretted it when he felt the stabbing pain shoot up his arm, “So I lied.”
“Why?” Will asked, knowing full well why.
Matthew didn’t reply. His mind could only focus on soaking up all of Will Graham. The tousled brown curls were a bigger mess than usual presumably from being in the hospital for days waiting for the former orderly to wake up. Matthew gave him a lopsided smirk. “Go home, Will, I’m fine.”
Will realized he was still gripping Matthew’s hand, and awkwardly brought it back to his lap. He stuttered before finally saying, “I’ll let you rest.”
He stood up, and checked his pockets for his belongings before putting on his thick winter jacket in one smooth motion. Feeling his heart tighten at the potential rejection, Matthew spoke up as Will was about to exit the room, “Will you come back to see me?”
“Every day until you come home with me,” Will smiled at Matthew, leaving before he could see the blush spread across the younger man’s pale face.
12 notes · View notes
scotianostra · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
On October 28th 1794 Robert Liston, the first surgeon to use general anaesthetic in Europe, was born in Ecclesmachan, West Lothian.
Liston may be remembered for the anaesthetic but he was also the best surgeon around in the 19th century and quite a remarkable man.
Using an anaesthetic wasn't new, Alcohol is said to have been used in ancient Mesopotamia going back thousands of years, the opium poppy is said to have been cultivated and harvested by the Sumerians in lower Mesopotamia as early as 3400 BC but they were not controlled like they are today. The inventor of the safety lamp Humphry Davy experimented with the gas nitrous oxide in 1799 and found it made him laugh, giving it the term used to this day "laughing gas" Davy wrote about the potential anaesthetic properties of nitrous oxide in relieving pain during surgery, but nobody at that time did not pursue the matter any further.
American physician Crawford W. Long noticed that his friends felt no pain when they injured themselves while staggering around under the influence of diethyl ether., he didn't publish his findings until 1849 though, by then other doctors were using Ether.
Enter Robert Liston, the most skilled surgeon of his generation, so adept that he was described as "the fastest knife in the West End. He could amputate a leg in 2​1⁄2 minutes" this was at a time when speed was essential to reduce pain and improve the odds of survival of a patient.
The eminent English surgeon Richard Gordon said about Liston that:
"He was six foot two, and operated in a bottle-green coat with wellington boots. He sprung across the blood-stained boards upon his swooning, sweating, strapped-down patient like a duelist, calling, 'Time me gentlemen, time me!' to students craning with pocket watches from the iron-railinged galleries. Everyone swore that the first flash of his knife was followed so swiftly by the rasp of saw on bone that sight and sound seemed simultaneous. To free both hands, he would clasp the bloody knife between his teeth."
His methods were the envy and despair of other surgeons, their dislike of him meant he left Scotland and Gordon goes on to describe this in this paragraph
"an abrupt, abrasive, argumentative man, unfailingly charitable to the poor and tender to the sick (who) was vilely unpopular to his fellow surgeons at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. He relished operating successfully in the reeking tenements of the Grassmarket and Lawnmarket on patients they had discharged as hopelessly incurable. They conspired to bar him from the wards, banished him south, where he became professor of surgery at University College Hospital (London) and made a fortune"
Another wee bit of interest is his suspicions regarding Dr Knox on the body of a young woman that Knox had kept in whisky, on show in his dissecting rooms, her name was Mary Paterson and Liston suspected foul play in the manner of her death, he was right, her name was Mary Paterson and she had been "Burked" by the West Port murderers Burke and Hare in April 1828, they were paid £8 for the corpse, which was still warm when they delivered it, Fergusson—one of Knox's assistants—asked where they had obtained the body, as he thought he recognised her. Burke explained that the girl had drunk herself to death, and they had purchased it "from an old woman in the Canongate" The pair went on to sell a further 11 bodies to Knox before they were caught.
Liston on confronting Knox over the poor woman's demise is said to have "knocked Knox down after an altercation in front of his students – Liston assumed some students had slept with her when she was alive, and that they should dissect her body offended his sense of decency. He removed her body for burial." So I think we get a sense of the character of Robert Liston.
Some of Liston's most famous cases documented in a book by the aforementioned Richard Gordon were; removal in 4 minutes of a 45-pound scrotal tumour, whose owner had to carry it round in a wheelbarrow; Amputated the leg in 2​1⁄2 minutes, but in his enthusiasm the patient's testicles as well; Amputated the leg in under 2​1⁄2 minutes (the patient died afterwards in the ward from hospital gangrene; they usually did in those pre-Listerian days). He amputated in addition the fingers of his young assistant (who died afterwards in the ward from hospital gangrene). He also slashed through the coat tails of a distinguished surgical spectator, who was so terrified that the knife had pierced his vitals he dropped dead from fright.
That was the only operation in history with a 300 percent mortality!
But it is the first operation in Europe under modern anaesthesia using ether, that Liston is best remembered, on 21 December 1846 at the University College Hospital. His comment at the time: "This Yankee dodge beats mesmerism hollow", referring to the first use of ether by doctors in the US. The first operation using ether as an anaesthetic was by William T. G. Morton on 16 October 1846, in the Massachusetts General Hospital.
The first pic is Robert Liston performing an amputation in front of a crowd of spectators, the second are photoes by Hill & Adamson
18 notes · View notes
envythemouse · 2 months
Text
All-time Matthew/Will recs
I'd choose Matthew over Hannibal any day...
The beat of your heart by JodyJuliana
Summary: After his attempt to kill Hannibal Lecter, Matthew survives and ends up in the hospital for the criminally insane. When it is time for him to leave its walls, he goes where his heart takes him - to Will Graham's doorstep, to his personal God's house. Matthew has trust issues and a terrible tactile hunger. Will has psychological trauma after everything that happened between him and Hannibal. This is a story about the importance of acceptance, unbelievable love and the dark ghosts of the past. Or maybe the ghosts of the future.
Envy’s notes: Will visits Matthew in prison to thank him for what he’s done. Years later, Matthew gets released and the first place he goes to is Will’s home.
He gives me toothaches just from kissing me by Biv_w
Summary: Will steps out of his cage. “Hawks are solitary,” he paces around aware that Matthew’s eyes are glued to him.
“That's their weakness. Enough of those little birds get together and they chase hawks away. Imagine if the hawks started working together…” Matthew offers, getting closer to Will, but slow enough so he can be stopped.
But Will doesn’t stop him, he grins dangerously and takes a step closer. Matthew’s excitement is plastered on his face, it looks like one of his wishes is coming true. He lets out a small sound when Will kisses him, resting a hand on his waist.
– Matthew succeeds in killing Hannibal and it leads to a life with Will.
Envy’s notes: Matthew manages to kill Hannibal, the police discover Hannibal’s basement and Will gets the happy ending he deserves. Sweet fic.
What Do You Want? by Griselda_Gimpel
Summary: Communication is key to a strong relationship.
Envy’s notes: Short but sweet. Hannibal dies in the fall. Will divorces Molly and Matthew finds Will after his prison sentence ends.
Will stared at him. Hannibal had never been concerned with what Will wanted; he’d been confident in his ability to see what Will should become. Molly hadn’t, either. He didn’t blame her. She’d been raised in a generation that said it was the man’s job to take the lead and know these things, and Will had done the best he could for as long as it had lasted.
Florida Dream by bitter_sweet_or_bland
Summary: To track down the Red Dragon, Jack makes a deal with the killer who he himself arrested years ago, Matthew Brown. And this time, Matthew won't let himself fail to protect his dear Will.
Envy’s notes: I can’t help but see this as Jack getting Will a therapy dog except the dog is Matthew and he’s a human.
Gunshot Wound by t3acupz
Summary: Matthew Brown wakes up in the hospital after being shot by Jack Crawford and is surprised to see Will Graham by his side.
Envy’s notes: Another ficlet. Matthew succeeds in killing Hannibal, they find the evidence of Hannibal’s crimes in his basement and Will visits Matthew in the hospital.
You Shall Not Make Idols by bitter_sweet_or_bland
Summary: AKA Matthew kissing Will's foot with a lot of bible references.
Envy’s notes: Anyone, anyone I beg you to make fanart of Matthew kissing Will’s foot. I love Matthew worshipping Will religiously like he’s a God.
Daddy by AGlassRoseNeverFades
Summary: Together, Will and Matthew learn about a kink Will never knew he had.
Envy’s notes: Light-hearted and has funny moments like:
Will blushes and looks away. “That’s not something I…I don’t know what that was. It doesn’t even make sense. I’m older than you.”
Matt snorts. “Don’t try to bring logic into the bedroom, babe,” he says, wrapping an arm around Will’s shoulders. “Unless that’s another hidden kink of yours. Hey, I’m down for anything you want, even if you wanna try working a Rubik’s cube into the act somehow or quote Aristotle at me next time.”
Night Shift by drinkbloodlikewine
Summary: Will didn't expect Matthew to actually change shifts after making that phone call, until Matthew shows up late at night to pay him a visit.
Envy’s notes: The best smut of this ship we have. Will’s a bit shy in this one and Matthew takes great care of him.
Miles to go by Dienda
Summary: After Will gets out of the BSHCI, he sets out to lure the Chesapeake Ripper while trying to protect Matthew. Set after Mukozuke, but follows some events from Futamono, Yakimono and Su-zakana.
Envy’s notes: Will tries to lessen Matthew’s sentence, meanwhile their bond goes stronger. I really like the Jimmy & Brian & Will scene. Will tells them Chilton isn’t the Ripper and they all work together to gather evidence against Hannibal.
Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes
film-classics · 26 days
Text
Joan Crawford - The Hollywood Glamor Girl
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Joan Crawford (born Lucille Fay LeSueur in San Antonio, Texas on March 23, 1906) was an American actress remembered today as the quintessential "Hollywood Glamor Girl."
Of French-Huguenot and English ancestry, she joined several dance contests, one of which landed her in a chorus line. Before long, she was in Broadway.
By 1925, she was on her way to Hollywood for a contract with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Her first role came soon after - as the body double for Norma Shearer, MGM's most popular female star. The studio saw her potential, but disliked her name, so they ran a contest, "Name the Star," in Movie Weekly.
Crawford made several silent films and had continued success in talkies after working very hard to remove her Southern accent. Even though she remained a respected and profitable actress at MGM, her popularity declined in the 1940s. In 1943, she requested to be released from MGM and immediately signed with Warner Brothers.
Warner Brothers gave her a chance to show her range and revived her career with movies like Mildred Pierce (1945), which won her the Academy Award for Best Actress. Like before, she asked to be released from her contract in 1952.
She continued to work freelance and became actively involved with Pepsi-Cola Co. through her marriage tot he company's president. Her career came to a lull again mostly because of the lack of roles for older women in Hollywood. By the 1960s, she again had a transformation and became her own PR machine, with a new script, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962). It was a hit and led to a string of roles until she retired in 1970.
At 69, she died from a heart attack in her apartment in Lenox Hill. Manhattan. Shortly after, it was revealed she paid for the medical care of hundreds of people, many of whom were from the film industry. She never publicized these nor wanted the public or patients to know.
Legacy:
Won the Academy Award for Best Actress for Mildred Pierce (1945) and nominated twice more: Possessed (1948) and Sudden Fear (1953)
Won the National Board Review Best Actress for Mildred Pierce (1945)
Nominated for a Golden Globe Best Actress for Sudden Fear (1953)
Nominated for the 1964 BAFTA Award for Best Foreign Actress
Named as one of the WAMPAS Baby Stars in 1926
Won the Photoplay Awards - Best Performance of the Month in August and September 1928, the 1951 and 1953 Most Popular Female Star
Honored with a block in the forecourt of Grauman's Chinese Theatre in 1929
Listed by the Motion Picture Herald as one of America’s top-10 box office draws from 1930 to 1936
Was the vice president of the Motion Picture Relief Fund in the 1930s
Proclaimed the first "Queen of the Movies" by Life in 1937
Donated her entire salary from donated her entire $112,500 salary from They All Kissed The Bride (1942) to charities in memory of Carole Lombard
Won the Golden Apple Award twice as Most Cooperative Actress in 1945 and 1946
Won the Golden Laurel for Top Female Performance for Sudden Fear (1953) and Torch Song (1954)
Received the first Golden Shutter Award in 1955 from the LA Press Photographers Association
Served in the Board of Directors of Pepsi-Cola Co. from 1959 to 1973
Given the Variety Club of Philadelphia's Variety Club Award in 1960
Co-wrote two autobiographies, A Portrait of Joan (1962) and My Way of Life (1971)
Honored with City of Hope Award in 1963 and the Heart of the World Award in 1965 by City of Hope Hospital
Named by the United Service Organizations as the first "Woman of The Year" in 1965
Sponsored the Joan Crawford Dance Studio in 1965 and the Joan Crawford Awards Collection in 1966 at Brandeis University
Became a Brandeis University Fellow in 1967
Presented with the Cecil B. DeMille Award at the 1970 Golden Globe Awards
Was the national chairwoman of the American Cancer Society in 1972
Appeared in the "Legendary Ladies" series at The Town Hall in 1973
inducted in the Photoplay Awards Hall of Fame in 1977
Depicted in her daughter's memoir, Mommie Dearest (1978), which was turned to a film in 1981
Is the namesake of a 1981 song by Blue Öyster Cult
Featured in the 1989 book Bette and Joan: The Divine Feud, the basis for the 2017 show Feud: Bette and Joan
Named the 10th-greatest female star of classic Hollywood cinema in 1999 by the American Film Institute
Inducted in the Online Film and Television Association Hall of Fame in 2005
Ranked #93 in Premiere magazine’s 100 Greatest Performances of All Time in 2006 for Mildred Pierce (1945)
Ranked 84 in Playboy's "100 Sexiest Women of the 20th Century" in 2012
Honored as Turner Classic Movies Star of the Month for January 2014
Has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 1752 Vine Street for motion picture
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes