#I had a whole period of my life trying to remember this song

[dr-spectre]

Getting sappy about the Squid Sisters....

The Squid Sisters being the ones to start and end Three Wishes genuinely broke me down and made me feel the most amount of emotion out of anything in this whole franchise.

They embody the past, present and the future of this series and it's world. They have made an impact in the past as they were the ones who started it all, they sing and dance in the present, and will plant the seeds for the future. Them getting the opening and final lines of this grand song is just... it's so smart.

These girls are so important to me on so many levels it's not even funny. I genuinely don't know what my mental health would be like without having these comfort characters by my side. I love them so much and they helped me get through the worst mental period in my life back in mid 2023. If they didn't help me see the light and comforted me, i don't know where i would be.... They also helped me get comfortable with my autism as well and made it less of a curse and more of a difference in how i see this chaotic world.

I remember getting my Callie plushie in October 2023 and once i held her... i teared up. This is not a joke. I'm not playing around. A 19 year old me actually cried holding a cute little Callie plush. She helps me sleep at night and helps silence the stupid thoughts in my brain that is just trying to rest.

I've been in love with this series since 2017 and it's done so much for me since then. I am gonna continue to love and adore this series until my heart finally stops beating. I've made so many memories i hold near and dear to my heart and some of the best gaming experiences I've ever had.

And getting the chance to share it with you all is just... I'm so happy. I don't feel lonely anymore in my thoughts and this series helped me make wonderful connections and it will continue to do so...

I love the Squid Sisters... I love them with every piece of my heart.

Sorry for getting all sappy LOL! (It will happen again in September.)

[renozman]

So for the past 2 days I’ve had a song on loop and it spawned this whole story in my head for the fic May Death Never Stop You by Slexenskee, please enjoy ^^

So back in the day when the band was just starting out and it didn’t even have all its members, gojo got realllll into his feels about his past life as he sang “I like the way you kiss me” by Artemas in remorse of the fact he never actually got to kiss suguru.

So this song gets played once then it isn’t heard of again. UNTIL. Someone posts online asking if anyone else ever remembers that song and it starts a whole thread of people saying yes and trying to remember the lyrics, and all the lyrics are all over the place and all hope is lost of even getting two words correct with it when someone uploads a video they took of that song that actually has semi decent audio and allows people to hear all the lyrics. All is fine until some sixwings detectives put together that Gojo and Hawks were in fact not together during that time and gojo is talking about ANOTHER LOVER HE HAD.

I mean sure of course the guys dated people before, and there’s the fact that many believe that all gojos songs mean nothing (but he sang so passionately that it had to mean something this time), but this is gojo we are talking about. Famous musician as well as most powerful villain and hero whose currently dating the current number 2 hero on top of all that. You just know his ex isn’t just your average Joe. The theories and video spread like wildfire.

BECAUSE WHOEVER THAT GUY WAS, GOJO REALLY LOVED HIM! LIKE PROBS AS MUCH AS HE LOVES HAWKS BECAUSE WHO ELSE GOT A HEART BREAK/LOVE SONG WRITTEN FOR HIM BY GOJO. SOUND THE ALARMS! HAWKS HAS COMPETITION!

So even more detectives pour in, all trying to find out whose gojo’s ex is. Now of course the man of the hour isn’t currently in touch with the internet at that moment because he’s probs saving the world somehow, so he can’t even rejoice (or get incredbly depressed thinking about his past life crush/love who he never got a happy ending with) in the chaos he’s causing unintentionally all over the internet which is slowly trickling into his friends/bands lives because everyone’s trying to get the scoop on which other powerful hero’s got to date THE biggest bachelor in Japan whole history.

Now all his friends from that old period of time knew that gojo slept around but the guy was never actually was in love, or dated, any of the guys he was with, so they ignore this.

That is until they get in touch with gojo, inform him of the mess expecting a laugh of the situation but all they get is a deeeeeeeeeeeep sigh. What? Was there someone?? Who???

Now hawks this whole time is chilled cos he knows the internet and he knows gojo. He knows there’s nothing to worry about (this is pre fight) so even when he hears from trustable sources that gojo did write a semi heart break song about someone else, hawks knows their relationship is safe and stable. He also knows that internet has brought up bad memories for gojo.

So when they see each other again hawks gets to shower gojo with all the love and happiness he missed from his past life. The end.

But y’all should listen to the song cos it’s so good 🤭

[frickfatphobes]

I was recently hit with the crippling realization that I used to have an eating disorder.

It was branded as intermittent fasting, something that would help change the number on the scale. I was skipping two meals a day and starving almost constantly.

My pants got a bit looser, and the number went down by twenty pounds over the course of three months. One person noticed my weight changed -- and she was fat herself, so of course she would be more likely to notice it -- and not a single other person seemed to care that my clothes looked a little baggier on my body now.

I hit a plateau that my body refused to let me move on from. No matter how few calories I ate, how hard I exercised, or how many cups of water I drank a day, my body refused to shrink anymore. I didn't stop, thinking surely I was close to another breakthrough.

That was the most weight loss I ever experienced in my life. A measly 20 pounds. The BMI said I needed to lose 70 more to even be out of the obese category. I didn't even stop starving myself when the weight came hurling back at me a year later.

I gained back all twenty pounds. I was still starving myself. I gained twenty more pounds. I was barely eating each day. I gained even a little more, despite barely taking in any food.

My mother said I must've been cheating, eating extra food at school during lunch. I was eating 500 calories a day. I was miserable.

I told myself I was worthless, that I needed to be better. I was so close to becoming thin. Why couldn't I just lose the weight?

I kept gaining, about a pound a month. I finally told myself I needed a break, and I started trying to eat again. I had two meals a day. I didn't get thinner, but I did feel a little better.

One day, while scrolling on social media, I saw a post about something called "fat liberation." Intrigued and confused, I dug deeper. I still remember the way my jaw dropped when I learned intentional weight loss isn't feasible for most people, that many tend to gain back extra weight after.

I saw myself in those numbers. I saw that I wasn't so worthless, that it wasn't because I didn't have the willpower. My body never wanted to be skinny, and maybe it was possible that I didn't either.

A year or two of researching fat liberation, and I denied I ever had an eating disorder. I was hit with the realization about four weeks ago, when listening to a song a thin person with an eating disorder had written.

I believed I couldn't have had an eating disorder purely because I didn't get thin while I was in the middle of it. I could have died of malnutrition, still fat, and it's possible no one would have suspected it was because of my "diet."

And that is exactly why fat liberation is so important. That's why bigotry as a whole needs to be abandoned. Because no matter a person's weight or size or whatever, everyone deserves a place in this world with equal opportunities. No one deserves to feel worthless, or feel like they'd rather be in someone else's skin because of how they look, or how they're treated.

Fat people with eating disorders are just as needful of healing as thin people with eating disorders, period, end of story.

[ajortga]

lead, part 1

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

a/n: I don't know how to work this, it's my first story on tumblr, i use wp and I found this story so interesting, so I wanted to try tumblr out, we'll see how this goes!

in which, you get paired as a lead with your crush, jenna ortega.

part 2

-

Theater.

That's where home is to the heart.

It's just so captivating. You never want to let go of it. You know you won't.

You want to do it forever when you're older.

It all started when you were in 6th grade, you can remember it like nothing could ever be forgotten. Your teacher told your class that you would be visiting the high school and experiencing their performance of Matilda. You sat in the second row, next to your friend as the shining lights began to dim and the chatters quieted.

You can just remember how captured you were in the performance. Part of it was the actors, the freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors that worked together so perfectly. Your focus was on them, the setting, everything. But you knew that day, something changed.

You remember telling yourself,

You want to do that for the rest of my life.

You remember thinking of directing or acting whenever your parents asked what you wanted to be when you were older, those careers were one of the only ones that stuck each time. Sure you knew it wasn't going to be easy, but a part of you told you that this is what you wanted. That's why you were trying, even after every time you were told no.

So you applied, 9th grade year. You remember crying to your parents when they rejected the dream of acting.

You had never cried so hard more than how much you did that day. Even when you knew your parents weren't so supportive of your film future, you just..

You just wanted to try.

So you did. Then you got into advanced theater and that was all it took for your passion to grow.

You auditioned, you sang okay, you loved to act, you wanted to do everything with film.

–

Today was the day of terror.

Well you wouldn't say terror, more like the anticipation was killing you.

Middle of sophomore year, which was now, you had auditioned for the lead role. Before you only got ensembles or tech, well there was a reason, you never had the guts to audition for a lead role.

The whole day you were shaken up, biting your nails, your heartbeat quickening whenever you heard even a mention of the musical.

During your film elective, right before theater, you were nearly dying.

Not even taking in any of the teacher's words, they were translated into musical songs. You shouldn't be so excited or afraid, you were in theater already, you were certain to get at least one role.

Something was different though.

You wanted the lead.

"Nervous feelings for the theater, huh?" It was a soft, sing-song voice next to you.

You turned to see your classmate, Jenna.

She was a small brunette with pretty wavy dark brown hair and warm caramel eyes that you could drown in.

You couldn't tear your eyes off of her, she was so pretty.

You glanced at your shoes, "Yeah.. Yeah sure, I wouldn't say nervous though."

She laughed, looking at you for a moment, "You know, I was there when you auditioned, your vocals were on spot and your acting was captivating to say the least."

You broke into a small smile, "Well thanks Ortega. I'm not used to compliments, especially in theater. You auditioned for which part? I saw you practicing lines the other day."

Now it was Jenna's time to smile, she looked back at you, "Yeah, it was pretty quick, I auditioned for one of the lead's too, not your part though. I just went through my script real quick, I honestly feel that when I look at scripts once, it sticks to me."

You were going to respond but the bell for last period rang, it was the moment of truth.

You held your breath, exhaling a sigh after a moment and turned to Jenna.

"Well I think this does it, good luck then?"

She nods, grinning, "Goodluck y/n."

Wait a minute, isn't the only other lead role the love interest?

Now that you are in theater, with everyone talking, you decide to grab your headphones and click play on your spotify.

You eased, you shouldn't be so nervous but you were. If you didn't get the lead, it would show your talent and you would under look any of your true abilities in film. If you got the lead, it meant that all eyes were on you, you would be playing next to Jenna.

Your heart sang.

Lie.

Not a lie.

Stop!

Your legs bounced up and down as your classmates were waiting for your theater teacher's response for the cast of the musical.

Your teacher, Mrs. Jenn went around the classroom, almost all of your friends getting ensemble or background roles, could it be any worse? The small roles were taken by your much more talented friends, didn't that mean that you could get a small role too? Or was it just life telling your oblivious brain that you were going to get the lead?

The teacher turned to you, grabbing a card from her basket, and made eye contact, she smiled.

"I loved your audition y/n. You depicted and portrayed the part perfectly, you got the lead role along with.. Oh! Ms. Ortega! Congrats girls!" She clapped her hands together, "Alright team, rehearsals start after school starting next week on every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday! Let's wrap it up, I'll be handing you your scripts that we'll memorize in class."

Your stomach flipped, your heart was jumping out of it's chest, you got the lead you wanted!

That is what you wanted...

Right?

Then why is your heart beating so quickly?

Maybe it was knowing that the girl you developed puppy love for was going to play a love interest to you.

As Mrs. Jenn came up to you, she handed you a script that held lots of pages..

A specific page caught your eye, a scene where you and Jenna had to kiss, your eyes widen, nearly choking on nothing.

This was going to be a big problem..

[elvispresley]

“Yes. That's mine. I wrote it. It was getting hard to be someone then. I was grossly overweight and needed help and only one critic/reviewer ever spotted it and it was A Aronowitz in the New York Post. He said 'Johnny' or whatever he was calling me, is crying out for help. And I didn't realise that I was at the time. I was just writing a song for the movie. I wrote it 'Bam! Bam!' like that, and got the single.

It was really getting weird then. The whole Beatles thing was just beyond comprehension and I was eating and drinking like a pig and I was fat as a pig, dissatisfied with myself and subconsciously crying for help. It was like the Fat Elvis period. You see the movie, he's very fat, very insecure and completely loss of self.

I'm singing about when I was younger and all the rest of it. Now the positive thing is, yes, yes, I'm very positive. I also go through deep depressions where I'd like to jump out the window, you know? I am an amazingly emotional person. It's becoming easier to deal with as I get older and I realise, I try -I don't know whether control is the right word - or l've grown up a little, or you calm down a little but the swings and the motion from ecstatic highs to suicidal depressions are actually physically and mentally wearing and I've always had it, all my life.

I remember Maureen Cleave, a writer - the one who did the famous 'We're more popular than Jesus' story in the Evening Standard - asked me, 'Why don't you ever write songs with more than one syllable?' So in 'Help!' there are two- or three-syllable words and I very proudly showed them to her and she still didn't like them. I was insecure then, and things like that happened more than once. I never considered it before. So after that I put a few words with three syllables in, but she didn't think much of them when I played it to her, anyway.

I don't like the recording too much; we did it too fast, trying to be commercial... I might do 'I Want To Hold Your Hand' and 'Help!' again, because I like them and I can sing them.”

— John Lennon on the song Help! and his mental state

[amethystviolist]

Thinking about this lyric from a song, "I'm better as a memory than as your man."

I can really picture it for Bagginshield, especially in the healing tents after the battle of the five armies. I think it works well as a line coming from Thorin, perhaps when he wakes up after Ravenhill and Bilbo is like don't you dare! You are not going to decide for me if you are a better memory than a romantic partner. I expect all the courtship after you have recovered or so help me, Mahal will not save you from my wrath. So of course Thorin has to recover.

Also I can see it working really well for Johnlock, perhaps right before Reichenbach, coming from Sherlock. I'm not sure how John would respond. I can see multiple options like no way, no matter how frustrated I can get at you I love you and then alternate John gets to help/no reichenbach at all or much more angsty of John is shocked because they don't acknowledge feelings and then the whole things happens and John is left with that memory until he sees Sherlock again and he assures Sherlock that he is much better as his man than a memory.

Any opinions on either pairing? Who do you think would use the line? Any other pairings you think it would work for?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

Oooo interesting line and interesting concept! I can’t speak much on BBC Sherlock as I didn’t particularly like the show and don’t remember much about it now, but Bagginshield I can absolutely jump on!

Thorin goes into BOTFA expecting to die. It’s essentially movie!canon, just looking at his lack of armor and recklessness in fighting. He hates risking anyone else, but sacrificing himself to take out Azog is not just acceptable, it’s preferable.

Honestly, hard to blame him. He’s just had a violent and disturbing week-long mental illness episode which would be bad enough on its own, but he’s king, and his personal problems are the whole kingdom’s problems. Trying to kill a friend in private is already bad enough, doing it in front of several thousand people would be excruciating to unravel (and not just politically but emotionally, especially since Thorin seems to be a naturally private person). And denying aid to a displaced/homeless, starving people? Thorin has become everything he’s hated: his gold-mad grandfather and the petty neighboring elf king.

Balin says in the movie that “Thorin Oakenshield will pass into legend,” and that’s undeniably true even after his mistakes. He still led the quest to successful completion despite any personal failures at the finish line. Killing Azog cements his legacy as a heroic king, if a flawed one, and dying afterward softens his mistakes in public memory.

In an AU where Thorin lives, he would realize that dying was the easy way out that was denied to him. Personally I think dwarves would have a social taboo against suicide, so if Thorin didn’t die honorably in battle, he’s basically doomed to a personal living hell of having to face and rectify his many grievous mistakes of the past few days. He would LOVE to be a memory and not a man, but he’s too honorable to back down from facing his mistakes now that he lives.

I do love fics that explore this mindset, and i agree, Bilbo staying (and stubbornly loving and forgiving him) would probably help a lot. Thorin at his core is a very driven person, and even without his gold-sick problems, I think he’d have a hard time adjusting to peaceful rule in Erebor. There’s no more desperate problems to solve, no grave dangers to face, no impossible quests to undertake. He’s a trauma survivor (in SO many ways oh my god that poor man) who finally has a safe and stable environment, and like many traumatized people who get that transition, I think he’d have an absolute breakdown trying to adjust and trust his new life.

All this to say having reconciliations and a courtship to drive him would probably be very helpful during this tumultuous period of Thorin’s life. And I’m always a fan of Bilbo angrily caring for people - “You will live and you will live happily, Thorin Oakenshield, or so help me Yavanna I’ll- I’ll never give you a moment’s peace, not even in your dwarven afterlife!” (Which is not an effective threat, Bilbo, he’d love to have you there).

And yes, choice comes into this as well. Lots of post-BOTFA fics deal with this and I love it every time. Thorin tries to protect Bilbo but in doing so takes away his free will, and Bilbo is rightfully angry about it! He should get to decide if being near (or courting) Thorin is a risk he wants to take, if the grievances against him are things he wants to forgive. Once Thorin gets that through his thick skull then I think they can be very happy together :)

Overall, I think that’s a great line for that scenario! I like to believe a surviving Thorin eventually accepts he can have a living, changing future (bc I don’t think he realizes Erebor itself can be more than a memory, either, not until the very end of the quest) and be a man instead of a memory.

Enough out of me, thanks for letting me rant on about this!

[thedragonagebigbang]

Bang Creator Interview: Tumblr: @crabs-with-sticks  |  AO3: CrabsWithSticks

The Collaboration period has begun! In these quiet months before works are due, we want to foster a sense of excitement, camaraderie, and celebration among our participants. To that end, all participants were given the option of a formal interview by our mod, Dema, or an informal “ask-game” survey. We hope you enjoy getting to know our phenomenal creators as much as we have!

Found Family in Crisis!!!!!! How This Local Woman's Life Just Keeps Getting Worse!!!  

Jacs and Dema talk music, tragedy, DMing tabletop games, and OCs who won't follow the damn rules

Dema: Good morning! Happy Saturday. Are you writing today? 

Jacs: I'm hoping to! Though I might be taking a break from my actual project to do some fun oneshots. Give myself a bit of time away from the tragedy of my bang fic and write something happy haha

Dema: That is very fair! Especially with heavier fics. How do you get in the zone to write, regardless of the project? Or does it vary depending on the vibes of your fic?

Jacs: Normally it involves getting nice and cozy under a blanket on the couch with a good cup of tea. I'll sometimes put a playlist on to get into a particular vibe, I've got a bunch of character playlists which can help get into the perspective of whatever oc I'm writing that day.

Dema: I won't get too specific with this question but, if there is one song on your playlist that especially fits your bang fic, what would it be?

Jacs: Hmm, I'd say probably 'Sampson' by Regina Spektor. The song is based on a tragic biblical story and is all about what could have happened if things had worked out differently. If the love had been enough to save them, then they wouldn't have been remembered by history but they would have been happy.

Dema: Oh okay, arrow straight to the heart. I see, I see.

Jacs: Yeah, I'm a known tragedy enjoyer, just rolling around in the sadness like a dog in a puddle. In order to get optimal levels of tragedy you gotta have some happiness first just so that readers can really see that it didn't have to be this way (but they never could have changed it).

Dema: I can't wait to read it! I also love tragedy, and especially in that ratio. Is there a particular one-shot idea you have kicking around, to cleanse the palate?

Jacs: Not sure! Though probably something with my oc Luca Trevelyan with Dorian, though I haven't actually managed to get very far through that particular playthrough yet....I'm a bit of a serial oc creator who then never gets around to actually playing them in the game.

Dema: Do you always make your OCs in game? Even if you don't get around to the playthrough? 

Jacs: Yep! It’s probably my favourite part of Dragon Age, or any CRPG. I really like thinking up characters, with their conflicts and histories. I'm a forever DM in real life, so I'm fairly used to making up characters and then never playing them, although at least with Dragon Age I already know the events of the game they'll be going through, so I have a better idea of their development arcs. I am trying to do a re-playthrough of the whole series before Veilguard comes out, but we'll see how successful that is haha.

Dema: Do you find that DMing has informed the way you structure your stories?

Jacs: I'd say that it probably has. When I DM I'm always keeping a hand on the pulse of all the characters, their emotions and where they're at in their arcs, because my aim is really to tell a good story. So I think it can help me to see things from the big picture as well as a more mechanical perspective. Though sometimes I do need to tell myself to stop looking at the big picture and just focus on what is at hand.

Dema: I'm a bit in awe of DMs. To me it seems like being the conductor of an orchestra, except all your musicians are improvising. Do your characters sometimes feel like players? Or do they tend to stay within the lines?

Jacs: They do end up getting away from me sometimes, or they'll do something that leaves me going 'huh, why did you just make that decision', because I know it's accurate but I'm not entirely sure why. Though sadly there's no actual player to ask...just my brain. I was intending to make quite a whimsical and happy Brosca, but she just keeps doing morally grey things!

Dema: HAHA ah yes, relatable. I find it's such an interesting balance, for me, between wanting everything in the story to feel a bit inevitable (especially in a tragedy!) and embracing the realism of some things just not having a clear explanation, especially character decisions.

Jacs: Yeah for sure! It's great when characters are messy and contradictory, I just wish it wasn't so hard...I had a character at one point who was making a whole bunch of decisions I wasn't expecting or had planned for, and I'd try to think 'ok why is this character doing this?' and all she supplied in return was 'I'm lactose intolerant'...which honestly was a very in character response; just straight up ignoring the question. 

Dema: A character in writing, or a character in a campaign you were DMing?

Jacs: A character I was writing.

Dema: Hahaha, incredible.

Jacs: I sometimes have, I guess little 'conversations' with my characters in my head where I tap into the section of my brain that they live in.

Dema: That's a great strategy! Is that how your characters first come to be?

Jacs: Hmm, I think the conversation part comes a bit later when I have some context for them, either in their history or in the game itself. It starts off as a lot of collaging together different ideas until it makes a full character. Often I start off from a particular theme or emotional angle I'm interested in exploring. So one started off as 'religious trauma', and another from 'idealism in a cruel society' and so on.

Dema: Has that first theme or idea ever come from a really unexpected source? And related to this, do you tend to be primarily inspired by the source material itself? I know that's a big reason so many of us love DA in particular.

Jacs: I think the themes are usually all ideas that I'm already interested in, but it's super fun seeing the way it can connect to the worldbuilding and lore. I think it's really important for characters to have specifics which tie them into the world around them, so thinking about how their family might have lived in the particular part of the world they're from, how they and the people around them either adhere to or go against it, and what impact that would have on their story. It's really fun looking at how a theme can change based on where the character comes from, like a character with conflict based around religious trauma is going to be different if they're human, Dalish or a city elf, and the world will react to them differently because of that.

Dema: Now I simply must ask you if you ever write AU fics.

Jacs: I haven't written many to be honest, though I do have some ideas for some. It can be hard translating a story that is really rooted in the specifics of one particular world and translating that to another. So I'm always really impressed to see when other people do it so well! I often find you can find a good parallel for one aspect of a character, but then you have to try to fit a second aspect or character conflict in and it doesn't fit the new world at all!

Dema: I feel the same!

Jacs: Writing; it's hard man.

Dema: It is! So why do you do it!? And a follow-up question: writing is hard, and you're signed up for a Big Bang! What made you interested? Is it your first one or have you done this before?

Jacs: It's like a wonderful little puzzle; except it can be all wibbly wobbly and just like real life it doesn't always need to make sense- it's lovely just to embrace the humanness of character writing!

So a bit of context, I recently finished postgraduate studies, and realised I didn't have any hobbies! I used to love creative writing of any sort when I was but a young whippersnapper (they say, in their mid 20s), so I decided to embrace the cringe and get back at it. I've never participated in any fandom events, or even written something this long that wasn't academic! But I'm really loving the community around this event and getting to chat to other writers as we all write (and suffer) together!

Dema: In the last minutes, and just for fun: can you come up with a click-bait title for your fic? Without giving anything major away, of course.

Jacs: Maybe something like 'Found Family in Crisis!!!!!! How This Local Woman's Life Just Keeps Getting Worse!!!’  (To quote the venerable Sir Terry Prattchet: And all those exclamation marks, you notice? Five? A sure sign of someone who wears his underpants on his head.)

Dema: Ten out of Ten, would click again. Thank you so much for setting aside this time to chat with me!

Jacs: No worries! I had a great time!

[liquidorcard]

You know, while we're on this topic, to the people who dismiss the idea that media is important in a very tangible way that deeply effects people's lives, let me tell you about the song Saint Veronika by Billy Talent.

Tw again: Discussion of suicide and suicidal ideation.

I'm fully aware Billy Talent is considered one of those 3edgy5me bands to people today. Tbh, I think a lot of people who dismiss entire musicians' bodies of work/genres are often fucking wrong and just irony poisoned when you dig a little deeper but that's besides the point-- for the sake of this point I'll just say, I don't give a fuck.

If this isn't your taste in music, if you don't connect with this because of how aggressively 2010s it is, I got no bones to pick with you. This was the shit I grew up listening to though, and I still love it even if my music tastes have expanded.

Now, to the point:

Picture this, it's 2010. You are a 13 year old deeply closeted AFAB trans kid attracted to women. You're three years any of privately coming out as a lesbian, five years away from openly identifying as one, and a full 12ish years away from transitioning. You live in a conservative hick town and you have good reason to believe if your parents found out, you would be disowned so you do everything to suppress those feelings. You have had a very traumatizing childhood, you live in a very unstable home. You're beginning to develop a chronic illness that will go untreated for 10 years, which causes you a LOT of pain. You have been an insomniac since you can remember, and have had concerningly few good night sleeps your whole life. You have had limited medical and no mental health treatment, to the point where you know asking for any is already off the table. However, have been told all your life by your formerly poor parents because of your upper-middle-class upbringing, any negative feelings you have are invalid and a sign of your laziness, and how spoiled you are. You have been told so often you must be faking your chronic pain, your fatigue, vomiting and migraines you've begun to wonder if you're just a big baby. They haven't even clued in yet that the reason why you're struggling with the switch to English from French schooling is because you're dyslexic and need glasses. In about a year's time you're going to begin developing an eating disorder. You've been bullied at school by students AND teachers since you were in grade 1. It's a good week if you've only cried once. You are ALREADY a year and a half roughly into stealing your parent's booze as quite literally the only resource you have access to to cope-- no fear that you'll be caught since they have such an absurd amount of it.

Now like, I'm not trying to throw myself a pity party here. Honestly, people expressing sympathy when I talk about what my life is like makes me uncomfortable. I understand people mostly genuinely feel bad and don't know what else to say, but like, I'm not telling people about this so they feel bad, lol. No offense, but like, it happened to me not you, and I'm spent plenty of my own time feeling bad for me-- I'm kinda over it, mostly.

No, I'm saying all this to make a point: I feel wanting to die is a pretty reasonable response for a 13 year old to have in those circumstances. Like, what else am I going to do? I had be told all my life the issues I was having were me problems, I couldn't figure out how to overcome them. If I'm the problem, like. You know, that's the obvious solution, right? Obviously as an adult I recognize that's not the case, but. I was barely a teenager.

To give context to the time period, I went to Catholic school. They had JUST stopped teachers from casually saying that people who commit suicide go to hell-- to fucking children. Stay classy, Alberta Catholic School Board. Oh, while we're here by the way, not too long ago they forced all the teachers to take any pride or LGBTQ+ related iconography down and started implementing policies like teachers being forced to out kids to their parents or risk being fired. Policies that would have put MY well-being in danger if they were implemented when I was a kid.

Here's their publically available email and phone number. No reason, just, if you're looking for a place to express your feelings on adults using their positions of authority to endanger children, or for a place to spam your dankest memes. I'm sure they'd love that:

E: http://acsta.ab.ca

T: (780) 484-6209

But, anyway, the new """progressive""" approach was to basically say just, "killing yourself is never the answer. Think of everything you have to live for." Literally, "Aha, don't kill yourself, your so sexy," before it was cool. 10/10 counciling. We had two suicides when I was in high-school, and countless other attempts.

What we have now isn't even that much better. What the fuck IS a teenager supposed to do with, "mental health is important, let's talk about it" but find out a lot of people are just as miserable as them? Which, finally, brings us back to this song . . .

"She was sick and tired of being invisible, Hard to see in color when you’re miserable,"

What is this I see!? Actual validation of negative emotions, articulated shockingly efficiently in a fucking song lyric?

"Veronika, Saint Veronika, You can't leave this world behind, So be strong enough to hold onto us, We're still right here by your side,

I know people kind of reflexively cringe when people say this or that piece of media saved their life. And, if it must be said, it's kind of fucked up that ANYONE has to get therapy from something like an emo-agacent rock band-- that's not supposed to be their fucking job. However, I can't articulate how much this meant to me when this song came out. "This IS as shit as it feels, but find the strength to hold on," managed to be just enough for me to survive until adulthood and get real mental health help. For me to tell my parents and be taken to the hospital after my first attempt at 16. Reframing it from "your life is precious" even though all perceived evidence was to the contrary for me and many other kids especially, to "find the resolve to keep going, you aren't as alone as you think."

"Always said her life was never meant to be, Stuck here living someone else's dream, Well beyond your window there is so much more, Even every prison has a open door,"

Though I'm a little jaded to some extent to the "it gets better" narrative, that was a more fresh idea at the time, and it is good to try and inspire hope in people going through suicidal ideation. It just can't be the be all, end all of the discussion.

Regardless, this verse articulates the emotional displacement of suicidal ideation really well. Especially for a kid stuck in a bad environment like I was.

"And while the angels sleep, All of the devils are awake, Waiting to steal your love, Right outside of Heaven's gate, And all the sacred hearts, Can't numb the feeling from the pain, Cause when the drugs don't work, You're gonna curse his holy name,"

To this day, nothing has captured my personal experience with suffering with suicidal ideation more than this bridge. Especially as someone raised Catholic. The metaphor of devils stealing your fundamental ability to love and be loved, to have meaningful bonds, just agapnizingly out of reach of safety and comfort. Because the systems supposedly there to protect your very "soul" aren't paying attention.

The Sacred Heart is the concept of God's divine love for humanity in the Catholic faith. The thing that is supposed to make you feel whole, complete and fulfilled. But, it's nothing. It's a sugar pill. It's symbolic of all the non-solutions presented to you to hand-wave away the problem without dealing with it. So you curse life itself, you reject the divinity of your own existence.

The music video is notably, pretty impressively tasteful too. Especially for the time. Yes it's visuals are also a little 2010s, but compared to trash fires like 13 Reasons Why that came out five or six years later. It threads the needle of using visual metaphor to communicate the pain, validate it, without glorifying suicide-- in my opinion.

Simple but effective: Doll girl unravels the more isolated she becomes, until it takes her life. It accurately depicts the act of suicide as a desperate attempt at ESCAPING from agony, not the solution. It manages to get the idea across while not showing any real life method itself. Genuinely, an extremely thoughtful exploration of the topic.

I don't know for sure if I'd be here today to write this post without this song but . . . There's 100% a chance. Real, accessible mental health care is what we really need, but in the mean time this is all some of us have. Especially minors.

Media matters.

[bradshawsbaby]

Letters to My Love // Part III

Blue Moon

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: I’m making a serious effort to be as historically accurate as possible in each of these letters, but I also realize that I may reference things that some people are unfamiliar with or confused about. I’d be happy to answer any questions about the time period if you have them!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story!

Song(s) referenced in this chapter: Chattanooga Choo Choo // Blue Moon

Dedication: As always, dedicated to my sweet friend, @luminousnotmatter​, as well as everyone who has offered such lovely support for this series!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to war and its impact, allusions to rationing, plenty of fluff.

July 6, 1942

Dear Peach,

Is it alright if I call you Peach? I suppose being in and around the Navy for as long as I have, I’ve become sort of used to the notion of nicknames. We’ve got one for everyone around here, and Peach just seems to suit you. I admit, it’s how I’ve come to think of you. But if you don’t like it—or if it seems too familiar for me to be calling you a silly nickname—you let me know right away and I’ll be sure not to do it again.

Gosh, I can’t tell you how happy it made me to receive your letter. Mail Call is always a good day—you should see the smiles around here when the fellas get letters from their sweethearts and families. But it felt a hundred times better the day I got your letter. Benny was about ready to tear it out of my hands and open it himself, and Tommy Boy wasn’t too far behind. Paul practically had to knock their heads together so that I could have a little peace. I kept it in my pocket and saved it to read until after dinner that night. Let me tell you, it was certainly sweeter than any dessert they could cook up in the mess (although, admittedly, their dessert could use some work, even on a good day).

I’m sorry that it took me so long to write back. You wouldn’t believe this, Peach, but they’ve really got us working hard over here. It’s almost like there’s a war on or something.

I’m sorry, was that a terrible thing to say? I don’t mean to make light of it. None of us do. But I think we’ve found that if we look for a little bit of levity every now and then, it makes this whole thing a bit easier to bear. We haven’t been here long, but we’ve already seen and heard things we’d rather not remember. So we look for the good where we can find it—like Mail Call, when we get special letters from lovely girls back home, just like you.

To answer your question, I’m doing just fine. I suppose I won’t try to get one past the Office of Censorship this time around, but we’re still in the same region of Europe and expect to be so for the foreseeable future. I wish that I could paint you a beautiful picture of what life is like here, but it’s rather bleak at the moment. You can still see the pockets of beauty though—I’m sure it was a wonderful place before this war. I hope that one day, it will be again.

But I’m sure you don’t want to hear me ramble on about the sad state of the world right now. Should we talk about something happier? How was your Fourth of July? I hope it was swell. I admit, my mouth was watering a bit the other day when I thought about all the things my mother always makes to celebrate. I’ll never know how she manages to get it all done, but she prepares a feast for us every year. My favorite part has to be her apple cobbler—drop a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top, and I swear, it’s heaven. All of us were missing home a little extra this Independence Day, so we ended up swapping stories of home and all the ways our families celebrate. I have to say, it did help to dull some of the homesickness. Tommy Boy had us all dreaming about parades marching through town, and Benny couldn’t stop talking about his mother’s berry icebox cake. We made him promise that when this is all over, he’ll have us as dinner guests so that we can sample it for ourselves. Do you have any special Fourth of July traditions?

Speaking of families and traditions, I’m so glad to hear that Paddy, Dottie, and little Frankie are doing well. Although I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting your sister, from everything you’ve told me, it does sound like Paddy has found his perfect match. She sounds like a woman who can certainly keep him on his toes. By the way, please let Paddy know that we all played a rousing game of Rummy in his honor. We look forward to getting to play with him again when we get home.

Gosh, there’s just so much I want to say. But it’s kind of hard, isn’t it? Knowing the right things to say, I mean. I’ve always been kind of amazed at how eloquent people’s letters can be. Mine sort of just end up coming out like a jumbled mess. It’s like I want to tell you everything that crosses my mind—as if we were sitting on that bench together on King Street—but I can’t think of a proper way to do it. So I apologize now if this letter is horribly scatter-brained and messy. I’ll try my very best to be more organized in the future.

What I do have to tell you—and I should have said it earlier—is how much I appreciated your lovely description of your day back in Charleston. Unfortunately, it was rainy and gray here the day I received your letter, but reading your words made it feel as though the warm southern sunshine had been delivered right to us. I hope you don’t mind, but I read that part of your letter to some of the other fellas. They really appreciated it. They’re also very grateful to know that you’re thinking of us and wishing us all the best. So am I. It gives us the boost we need when the days get hard.

Nothing would make me happier than the thought of you saving a dance for me. Maybe next time, I’ll even get to hear that pretty singing voice of yours. I know you said I couldn’t be certain that you were a good singer because you were just humming, but trust me—I know. We listen to music over here sometimes when we’re able, but I do admit it’d be much more fun to be listening to it at another USO dance. Sometimes I’ll hear a song that played that night, and it makes me smile.

Anyway, they’re calling us now, and I should probably stop running my mouth so much. It’s funny—I’ve never been much of a talker (just ask Paul), but with you, I feel like I could write pages and pages, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

I hope this letter hasn’t bored you to tears, and I do hope to hear from you again soon. Thanks for sending along the sunshine.

Sincerely Yours,

Bobby

July 22, 1942

Dear Bobby,

Peach is just fine! It’s lovely, in fact. I’ve never had a nickname just for me before, so that one makes me feel quite special. On top of that, it’s also officially Dottie-approved. She insists she only happened to glance over and “accidentally” catch sight of the beginning of your letter, but I think she may have just been snooping. See? I told you she’d get on wonderfully with Benny and Tommy Boy.

Mail Call sounds like a wonderful day for all of you. The USO has been reminding us how important letter writing can be. They’ve been saying how much it boosts morale for our boys overseas, and clearly they were right. I’m touched that my letter seemed to mean so much. If it really does brighten your day, then I’d be happy to write hundreds of letters. I’m not so sure my words are really sweeter than ice cream or pie, but I will try my hardest.

You don’t have to apologize! I can only begin to imagine what it must be like for you over there. As happy as I am to receive your letters and to know that you’re doing alright, I understand that it may take a while for you to be able to write me. And you most certainly don’t need to apologize for trying to do what you can to preserve your peace of mind. My heart breaks to think what you and your friends, and all the other men over there fighting, have already seen and experienced. They say war is hell, and I absolutely believe it. I could never dream of being even half as brave as you are, Bobby. I mean that. If your heart ever feels heavy with all the burdens you have to carry, please know that you can lay it down with me. I’m more than happy to listen. I know that I won’t have all the answers—who does?—but I’ll always try my hardest to help you carry the load as best I can.

I’ve never been to Europe before, but my parents went to Paris for their honeymoon back in 1916, and my mother still talks about how beautiful and magical it was. It makes me so sad to think that countries that were once so full of life and art and beauty and culture have been reduced to war-torn husks. Like you, I have hope that one day very soon, this horrible war will be behind us and all those wonderful places will be filled with magic once more. And maybe one day in the future, I’ll get to travel there. I’d like that very much.

My Fourth of July was very nice! I have to admit, reading about your mother’s apple cobbler and Benny’s mother’s icebox cake had MY mouth watering. There must just be something about mothers because my mama also LOVES baking up a storm to celebrate Independence Day. One of her favorite desserts to make is—can you believe it?—peach tarts! Maybe we can convince our mothers to swap recipes.

This is the first Fourth of July that I haven’t celebrated with my parents back home in Georgia, but Paddy, Dottie, Frankie, and I had a wonderful day. It was Frankie’s first, so we took him to the parade in town, though I think he would have been more than happy to stay home. Poor baby is teething, and he’s been downright miserable some days. I’m sure Paul knows what that’s like, and I’m sure Natasha is dealing with the same with Paul, Jr. right now. It’s hard to watch him suffer—I know it just about kills Dottie.

Speaking of Dottie, she was rather upset that her baking plans got a bit derailed by our ration cards. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but sugar is being rationed now. We pooled together as many ration cards as we could save, but there’s been such a demand for it that there was hardly any to be found. We settled on a simple pound cake with strawberries, which Dottie wasn’t happy about, but Paddy made sure to cheer her up by making a big show about how it was the best pound cake he’d ever tasted. Personally, I do think it could have used more sugar, but please don’t tell Dottie that I said that.

Thankfully, Frankie took a good nap that day, so he was in much better spirits by the time the fireworks went off. We went down by the water to watch them, and he was mesmerized. I enjoyed them, too, but it felt sort of strange to be having such a nice day when I thought of you and all the other men who have gone off to fight for us. It felt wrong somehow to be celebrating as though there wasn’t a terrible war waging halfway across the world, a war that’s been taking more and more of our men every day. But Paddy helped to put it into perspective for me slightly. He said that the men who are over there fighting—men like you, Bobby—are doing so precisely so that the rest of us can enjoy these freedoms. He said that, if it were him, he’d be happy to know that we were safe and still getting the chance to celebrate our independence. Was he right, Bobby? I hope it doesn’t feel like rubbing salt in a wound, me telling you about our Fourth of July.

Can I tell you something? I think Paddy’s been having a hard time wrestling with the fact that his job allows him to remain stateside during the war. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I heard him and Dottie sitting up in the kitchen one night, talking. I think he feels a bit guilty, being a part of the Navy, but not having to go fight the same way you all are. Dottie has been trying so hard to reassure him, but I noticed that he’s been working even longer hours now—he wants to do whatever he can for the war effort, and to help bring you boys home as quickly as he can. That’s what we’re all hoping for.

I have to admit, I giggled a little bit when I read the part of your letter about feeling like what you write is a jumbled mess. I feel the same. It’s a little tricky to have a conversation on paper, isn’t it? It’s much easier when you’re sitting face to face. Tell you what? I’ll forgive your messiness, if you forgive mine. Does that sound like a deal?

Oh, I’m so glad to hear that the talk of sunshine made you happy, even on a gray and rainy day. And I’m happy that your friends enjoyed it, too. Would you say hello to Paul for me? I’m not sure if he even remembers me, but I’m still so grateful for his kindness at the dance. Maybe say hi to Tommy Boy and Benny for me, too? Even though I haven’t met them officially, I feel like I know them so well through your stories about them.

I’m not sure about where you are, but it’s brutally hot here in Charleston now. Still sunny though, so I’m picturing scooping some of it up and sending it your way. Unless we have errands to run, Dottie and I have been staying mainly inside with the baby. I know we’re supposed to be conserving as much power as possible, but Dottie doesn’t care a fig if there’s a war on when it’s this hot—she’s got all the fans running on full blast. I hope wherever you are, you’re able to keep cool.

I have to say, Ensign Floyd, you really are going to give me a big head one of these days. I assure you that I am not as talented a singer as you seem to think I am, but perhaps I’d be willing to sing along to one song at the next dance we attend. But you have to promise not to laugh when you discover I’m terrible at it. Humming, I promise you, is very different from singing.

Now that I’m on the topic of music, however, I wanted to mention that every time Dottie puts on one of her Glenn Miller records, I think of you and your mother. I know you said she was a big Glenn Miller fan, and I like to think that maybe somewhere in Iowa, she’s listening to “Chattanooga Choo Choo,” same as us.

Just last night, while we were cleaning the kitchen, Dottie and I were listening to the radio and “Blue Moon” came on. Do you know that one? The Al Bowlly song? I think he has such a lovely voice. Anyway, I was listening to the song while I was washing the dishes and it got me thinking about the moon. Gosh, that sounds so silly now that I actually write it out. But it’s true. I was thinking about the moon, and it struck me that the moon that was shining down on me was the same moon that was shining down on you. Even though I don’t even know exactly where in the world you are, when I look up at the moon at night, I can be sure that it’s the very same moon that you’re looking at. I don’t know, maybe it’s silly, but it kind of brought me some comfort. Does that sound horribly hokey? I’m sorry if it does. Maybe if it doesn’t strike you as too terribly sentimental, you can share it with Paul the next time he’s feeling down about missing Natasha and the kids. This war might be keeping us all apart, but at night, when we look up at the moon, we can remember that we’re not so far apart as it seems.

Your letter certainly didn’t bore me to tears, Bobby. On the contrary, it made my day. Now I just hope that MY letter doesn’t bore YOU to tears. Maybe when all this is over, you and I will feel more confident in our letter-writing abilities. I certainly do hope that’s the case.

Stay safe, Bobby. Sending you all my very best.

Sincerely,

Peach

[astradyke]

MY EXPERIENCE W/ TIT TOUR (tysons 2)

( written while looping I'm Not Okay (I Promise) by MCR, and also a car alarm going off outside my dorm room repeatedly :') )

NON-SPOILER SECTION:

SO many sweet people in line. someone gave us (me, my best friend, and my other beautiful friend) custom dan & phil stickers (pictured above), there was a lovely person in cat whiskers making sure people knew the difference between the gen admission & silver line, etc. phannies have the coolest fashion sense all the sick lovely lesbians were making me nervous... <3

s/o to my best friend's running capacity we were first in merch line!!! I am so endlessly happy with my photocard haul especially the uni hoodie one that one is my FAVORITE, also I love this long-sleeve so much. I almost got more merch but I held myself back and I think that was a good call! Also a super cool phannie made custom photocards and I got a silly dan one :D

y'all already saw but I met Clo @bitchslapblastoids who is the first mutual I have ever met in real life ever! between you and me... she is super kind and also really cool :]

our seats were so good!! balcony like row F or whatever but it worked out <3 our seatmate was also very kind!!!

pre-show people danced to HOT TO GO! and someone held up a Palestine flag and we all cheered! and people were moshing to von dutch which is so beautiful to me

SPOILER SECTION:

List of favorite jokes included: "Now our show passes the Bechdel test!" "I have kind of an aloof sociopath vibe going. ... which has worked for me :)" "[I am not satisfied on screen] What was that about? // I think I was just horny that day." "Scared of my life without you when I kill you!" "Dan had depression :D!!" "Enough about the gay, we've already done the gay// Enough about the depression, we've already talked about the depression."

No "sorry daddy, I mean father" line, which is devastating, BUT we didn't get the whole 'do you think Dan Howell' can commit schpiel with the wedding... much to think about

our conspiracies were pumpkin, faked sleepless night 3, bar, and wedding! i deeply wanted the other conspiracies i am so not going to lie but it's okay...

our "one minute" tangent was about electricity, clo made a post about this but they made a God and Adam joke because Phil tried to electrocute Dan and it failed so they were just awkwardly touching fingertips for a period of time

Nothing could have prepared me for the Phil on top of Dan choking him with the llama hat thing. Like i knew it was going to happen but still nothing could have prepared me. i think i fully grabbed my best friend's arm and shoulders and shook them a bit

our confessions and like nolemodel bit were really funny shout out DMV phannies!!!

Really made me sad when phil made the joke about babysitting like NO!!! YOUR CONTENT IS THE REASON I CAN SLEEP AT NIGHT WHEN MY PARANOIA IS BAD!!!!!!!! I LOVE U HIATUS YR CONTENT PHIL!!!! But his whole thing about the hiatus being a good thing in the end because it brought us here... <333

every segment felt perfectly timed and the entire show was just so funny and good. Like ultimately i can yearn for having gotten different conspiracies or slightly different vibes but altogether it was incredible.

THE SONG WAS LIFE-CHANGING. I knew more about it thru spoilers than I had thought but either way not only was it so fucking good, like, I'm going to get I-D-G-A-F it saved me tattooed. I have decided this.

WRAP UP THOUGHTS:

I first got into Dan and Phil when I was 11/12-- my first video was post Daniel Howell rebrand, and it was Daniel and Depression, I'll give you three guesses as to why my friend at the time recommended that video. I was obviously a die-hard phan at the time, reading phic and watching the compilations and obsessed with their gaming videos. I remember being like, unfathomably depressed trying to do math homework in bed, and just 'secretely' watching their videos instead. I can remember exactly when the first WDAPTEO dropped, and like how much I wanted to go to interactive introverts but was too scared to (I think I'm glad I didn't go for personal reasons) but my friends did go. I remember I was leaving summer gym class before I started HS when Basically I'm Gay dropped, and watching it-- but I was 13 almost 14, closeted, and while it resonated with me it didn't really hit me that strongly? I remember being most taken aback by the confirmation of their relationship, and the conclusion Dan left about his own sexuality had an impact on me wrt rejecting the constraints of labels, but it didn't really hit me crazily. during hiatus years I watched solo AP semi often but so much was happening... obviously, when the hiatus returned, i came back full force. when it's summer and i can't sleep at night, I watch AP hiatus years solo content; I watched most of the Dystopia Dailys; I saw We're All Doomed's digital release w/ the same best friend I went to TIT with; and obviously, you all have seen me talk about their collaborative content. But after that time, maybe even a bit before the hiatus ended, I rewatched Basically I'm Gay. after all I went through in high school (nothing quite like his experiences, but aspects of it resonated through), that video hit me like a fucking truck-- it made me realize the inherent amount that my queer identity played in my trauma, and it like... made me really emotional lol. also, Phil's openness about his chronic illness has meant a lot especially as I battle with my own-- not chronic illness, but, physical health battles. So when they sang IDGAF it saved me, that was like fucking earth-shattering to me, because they did save me! from when i was 12 years old struggling to do work, wondering why i was so tired every day but at least having them to cheer me up-- to being 19 years old, joints aching and emotionally stressed, watching their pizza mukbang 2 and seeing how much happier they are, how much happier I am. they saved me. and i love them so, so fucking much.

On a very different note, seeing them live has colored my whole, uh, envisioning Dan Howell being trapped in my head in order to cope with my day to day mental isolation, issue, as being like... maybe not the move. so i'm trying to get more used to the quiet of my own head, but hey, over the years, they've helped a lot with that.

I wish i could have met them just to say all these things i'm realizing now, after seeing the show. but TLDR: TIT tysons 2 was the best night of my life. i love them, i love them, i love them, i love them, and i hope they know. i dunno how to move forward with my life after an experience like last night, just, God. i love you dan and phil. i love you phandom. it saved me. TIT saved me.

[ascendingaeons]

A Dance with Bast

"Consciousness expresses itself through creation. This world we live in is the dance of the Creator. Dancers come and go in the twinkling of an eye but the dance lives on. On many an occasion when I am dancing, I have felt touched by something sacred. In those moments, I felt my spirit soar and become one with everything that exists. I become the stars and the moon. I become the lover and the beloved. I become the victor and the vanquished. I become the master and the slave. I become the singer and the song. I become the knower and the known. I keep on dancing and then, it is the eternal dance of creation. The Creator and the creation merge into one wholeness of joy. I keep on dancing — until there is only … the dance."

Michael Jackson "The Dance" - from inlay sleeve of Dangerous (1991)

"I would believe only in a god who could dance. And when I saw my devil I found him serious, thorough, profound, and solemn: it was the spirit of gravity - through him all things fall."

Friedrich Nietzsche - "Thus Spoke Zarathustra"

I was participating in a pathworking meditation during my Reiki I° class. I was instructed to focus on my Soul Star chakra (also known as the Vyapani or universal heart) and that I would manifest a sacred space there. To my surprise, the space that I found myself in was a sacred library that I dreamed of many years before.

As I walked around this space, I noticed Bast sitting in a plush, crimson velvet chair. There was a hearth behind Her radiating warmth from a cozy, crackling fire. I approached Bast and bowed with my hands outstretched, a posture of devotion known as henu. Bast smiled and after a period of pleasant silence, I asked Her if She wanted to dance with me. The Goddess rose from Her seat and walked towards me with calm, authoritative grace.

Bast was covered from head to toe in short, black fur. Her eyes were green, Her teeth radiant and sharp. She wore a flowing but simple, turquoise-colored dress in a modern style, accented with gold leaf. She wore gold bracelets on her wrists and ankles, gold armlets above the elbow in a serpentine design, and a stunning gold Wesekh collar adorned with jade, sapphires, blue amethysts, and emeralds. She had earrings of emerald and wore simple but elegant jade pumps on her feet. Her nails (more like claws) were refined but sharp. She was about my height if not an inch or so taller.

She took my hands in Hers and we began to waltz around this space. As we danced, it felt as though we had done so many, many times before. The Goddess spoke and I listened. She told me that I have come a long way and there is much yet that I must do. She told me to relax and loosen up a bit more. “Have fun and enjoy life! Do everything that you desire. That is what life is for.” Her face became brighter, soft, and encouraging, and with a joyous smile and twinkle in Her eye She told me the words that I will remember for the rest of my life, “Life can be beautiful if you let it.”

And with that, we danced on, smiling and free, as my awareness returned to my teacher’s living room. My head turned to the right and outside the tall windows, I could see the sun rising slowly into its zenith.

Life is not meant to be a breeze. Misfortune, mistakes, and loss are there to teach and shape us, if we are so inclined to listen. Beauty is certainly in the eye of the beholder and after that experience, which I chose to believe was authentic, I began to ask myself, “Why not try to see the beauty in life? Why not see the good?”

And so, I began to realize that such a mindset was a choice. I chose to see each moment not in a glass-half-full sort of way, but as an opportunity for creation. I began to cultivate openness, acceptance, gratitude, and ingenuity as a state of being. The more I embodied the beauty and goodness that I wanted to see in the world, the more I found that it was.

Dua Bast!

Image is credited to FelineFire.

[turneradora]

Here is a new press article, promoting "Rivals", in the next issue of the Hello ! Magazine, of October 14th.

Thanks to Emma Jones for the advanced news and for the written version of it.

Aidan Turner didn’t have to look far for someone to base his portrayal of moustachio’d talk-show host Declan O’Hara in Disney+’s steamy adaptation of Dame Jilly Cooper’s bonkbuster Rivals.

The Being Human actor, 41, looked to his dad as inspiration for his role in the 1980s-set raunchy romance, which follows the rivalry between notorious womaniser Rupert Campbell-Black - played by The Boys star Alex Hassell - and TV boss Lord Tony Baddingham, portrayed by David Tennant.

Aidan made his name in Poldark and fans of the period drama will recognise 16th-century manor Chavenage House, which doubles as the grand Cotswolds home of Declan, his flirtatious wife and their daughters. Aidan is also a father in real life - to a two-year-old with his wife, US actress Caitlin Fitzgerald, whom he met on the set of The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot in 2018.

In Rivals, he stars alongside American actress Nafessa Williams, who made her name in the Twin Peaks reboot before playing singer Whitney Houston’s assistant Robyn Crawford in a 2022 biopic.

The 34-year-old makes her UK debut as Declan’s powerful producer Cameron Cook, and tells Hello! She based her character on growing up in 1980s Philadelphia and observing the strong women in her family.

What or who inspired your roles?

Aidan: I lightly based it on my dad, but the more I watched it, the more I thought: ’That’s my dad!’ The way he walked, his accent and energy. He’s not any angry man, not as angry as Declan, but he’ll come at you with a force. He had a moustache for 20 years and I loved having one for this part, too - it was weird to shave it off.”

Nafessa: My mom and grandma, I remember their red lips, their hairstyles and the fashion they wore, and had always want to emulate that. I was really young in the Eighties but loved watching them and how powerful and confident they were. There are also references from TV and music videos, Nasty Girl Vanity 6 is Cameron’s song. It helped me get into her confidence and sensuality.”

Aidan, how did it feel to shrug off the sex-symbol image to play a protective father?

It was lovely, it felt real, and I could relate to him. He’s a dad, I’m a dad - and he’s like my dad.”

And what about the steamy scenes… are you nervous about your family and friends watching them?

“That’s a question! I tend to never think about it until the moment you really have to and you’re sitting beside them. I think my family have seen my naked bum many times, so I don’t think this will be a big thing.”

N:”A tiny bit. I don’t know if they’ve seen me this much, in this way. I’m thinking about who’s going to be at the watch party, and who’s going to be watching it with me. I was nervous watching it myself!”

How did you feel about filming those scenes?

A: ‘It’s quite a vulnerable thing…But we’re all grown-ups and have done it before. The way to do it is just try to have as much fun as you can. It leads us down a creative path that’s fun because you can find different things to put into the whole mix of the dance.”

N: “It’s not the most comfortable thing to do but when you’re doing it with people who you feel comfortable with, that makes it better. Also, intimacy co- ordinators were there to make sure we were safe and protected and to answer any questions.

“It’s really a dance, it’s choreography. I don’t think people understand how technical it is. It’s really just us getting the job done at the end of the day and just making sure you’re as comfortable as you possibly can be. Everybody was very gentleman- like with me.”

Had you read Rivals?

A: “I’d read the script but not the book. But on the first day of shooting, when we all went to the trailers and there was a signed copy of the book on our chairs, that was a special moment so I got busy reading it then.”

Nafessa, what was it like coming across the pond to be in the show? “It was an honour, and I thank Disney and Jilly for letting me be part of it. There’s a lot of life imitating art. Cameron came from New York to be here, I came from Atlanta. So I understood her world and being new.

“When I read the script I thought: ‘She’s so strong and smart, and so firm in who she is.’ I felt she could hold her own among these strong, powerful men and was excited to give my voice to it. It was fun; everyone was so warm and welcoming, and H I learned a lot.”

INTERVIEW: NICKY MORRIS

Rivals will be available to stream on Disney+ from 18 October.

[elvisabutler]

quiet on the set: chapter two

fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: t-ish. pairing: elvis presley x original female character word count: 4369 warnings: mild slut shaming. complicated relationships with fathers. complicated relationships with mothers. period typical misogyny. arguments between a director and their leading man. slapping. getting into personal space without permission. disagreeing. mild implications for submissive elvis. author’s note: so hi y'all welcome to the second part of quiet on the set. there's not a whole lot to be said beyond me being thankful to those of you all who have read this because i know hollywood era elvis can be a bit of a mixed bag for people/kind of gets lost in the shuffle of people preferring 70s/big daddy elvis and baby/army elvis. but i've been enamoured with this concept since it's original whisperings and have- well to put it delicately between my discord wives, christi, marina and birdy and my own selfish desires/explanations of this fic to some people ( cough, cough madi ) have had this fic take on a life of its own. which is to say i hope y'all like this and allow me to play a little bit fast and loose with some elements of hollywood history. also enjoy my brief foray into basically writing robert evans somewhat as how he was portrayed in paramount plus's the offer, he'll come up later on too. also. this can be seen as austin elvis or elvis himself, as @precious-little-scoundrel's moodboard implies but i did truly write this i feel with elvis himself in mind.

"Elvis Presley. Are you- have you gone entirely insane? Why on Earth would you want him to play Stanley? Why would you want him near this film at all? The man's only known for-" Her father starts before she cuts him off with a bit of a huff. 

"For song and dance formulaic movies, yes yes, I know, father. I know that he's known for movies that are meant to be enjoyed by people who’d rather listen to someone sing and dance and prance around like a prized show dog.” Catherine tries to agree with Alfred, a fact that threatens to eat her up inside but she knows as well as her mother knows that sometimes it’s best to tempt him with honey rather than spitting pure, unfiltered vinegar. “If I remember right- that’s actually what you wish all actors could be: little show dogs you can put up and tell to do something that is easily achievable. Sit and look pretty?”

“You have seen some of them, Catherine, it’s not- You know as well as I do you’ve agreed with me on several sets. Your mother has as well.” The look he gives her would- in another time and another place- normally make her buckle just a bit but she can’t help the way she rolls her eyes at it in this moment. 

“That is not the point. In fact, you are trying to move away from the point I’m trying to make. He is the one I want. He’s Southern, he has the bulk, he has the look and aura and if I’m going to make this, I truly think he’d be perfect. Absolutely phenomenal in this role.”

She hears her father scoff and purse his lips. “The talent Catherine, the talent you’ve been craving for your actors to have? Does he have that, hm? Does he leap off the screen the way you want you actors to? Or are you thinking with your-” 

“My what? My brain? The thing I inherited from you and mother? Yes, yes, I do believe that’s the exact thing I’ve been thinking with. That’s the exact thing that’s watched his films and can tell there’s something underneath the songs. Wild in the Country, Follow that Dream, Flaming Star, King Creole. I just know there’s something there, there’s an actor the likes of Brando and Newman and Bogie in there, he just needs the right script and director.” Catherine’s brow furrows just slightly. “Tennessee's words are perfect for the man and I can convince him to let me do it. Convince him this is the perfect man to cast.”

“The perfect man- Catherine, the antics that follow him alone would be an embarrassment. A flurry of girls on and off of the set, making a fool and mockery of you and anyone else trying to do their jobs.” He shakes his head. “You’d throw your efforts down the drain. He wouldn’t be professional and your plan would be in shambles. I’d likely have to come pick up the pieces.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to!” Her voice rises an octave and very nearly becomes a shout at the insinuation. “You- I would be able to control the situation.”

The only response he gives her is his eyebrows raised and Catherine swears she sees red. She’s older now, thirty years old and her father still has her as this twenty year old in his mind. This twenty something he’d ask to finish up his films so her mother and him could go off to another set or another country. It would always turn out beautifully and Catherine would wait to see her name in the credits, wait to see her name in those credits like she would see her mothers and yet every time she was let down. Every single time she’d watch as names drifted on by and not a single one was hers. The only Hitchcock on the screen was Alfred, not Catherine. She squares her shoulders and uses the height her heels give her to tower just barely over her father. “Elvis Presley is my Stanley Kowalski, Alfred. I do not care what the man does on the set as long as he does his job and I will ensure he does. This will not run over budget, it will not have melodrama attached to it. It is simply going to be a motion picture where Mr. Presley can show the world that perhaps he can act and not just sing and dance. It’s going to be a motion picture that you refused to do but that I wanted to do. You can refrain from giving me permission but that will not stop me from having him on my set acting against Ms. Wood. It is not going to-”

Her father tilts his head for a moment before exhaling, shaking his head in disapproval. “If that’s what you want. If that’s what you see as your vision. I expect that you will not whine to me if something goes wrong. You will have made your bed and you would need to lay in it. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.” The word is spat out before Catherine turns and leaves the room, her heels clacking against the floor.

Tap tap tap. Elvis faintly hears a set of heels tap against the floor, unaware of who their owner is- unaware that Catherine is making her way toward him- too preoccupied with the blonde in front of him, all fluttering eyelashes and rosy cheeks. She's a professional he can tell, but even the most professional of women can't help but smile and laugh at his charm. Can't help but smile and laugh at his attention because he's Elvis Presley, dreamboat, all-American male. 

She clears her throat behind him and he turns around ready to give her a greeting his mama'd be proud of only to have Catherine beat him to the punch by spewing venom the likes of which he hasn't seen come off of a woman's tongue directed at him since- hell- maybe Anita?

"Mr. Presley, I believe you're distracting her from doing her job. I know it must be hard to rein in that ego and charm and sexual desire but that wasn't what I hired you for, now was it. I believe I told you I wanted an actor? Not a sex-addled man."

His eyebrows practically go up to his hairline before he shakes his head and places a hand on her shoulder. "Now, Princess, there's plenty to go 'round for everyone, I won't be causin' any problems."

"I like having eye candy around as much as the next person, Cat. But Elvis Presley. That's like asking to have Brando without the Oscar. Without the draw he still has. You're asking for him to parade about with girls, drag his little posse and that manager of his around, and for what? I'll give you that you'll have a star who knows his lines. But honey, we both know he's box office poison and a has-been in music and films. I know I can handle that, but I don't think you can." Bob's words are gentler than her father's and yet Catherine eyes still tighten at them as she takes a sip of her wine.

"Oh? I believe I can because I don't run a whole studio. I just direct. Much easier for me to survive a box office poisoning with a job intact. Besides you like me enough to have your producers want me as a director." She retorts smiling a fake smile she knows they're both incredibly familiar with. 

"I don't know. When you're directing decisions include this, I might be rethinking that. Hitchcock name or not." He pauses. "With a smile like that, you are wasted behind the camera."

"Save your flattery for someone you aren't calling crazy, Evans." Catherine sighs and bites the inside of her cheek. "It's not for his looks, you know I'm not that sort of-"

He cuts her off. "Woman? Director? Normally? Of course not, moral paragon out to remind me I should do better. With a man like him? When you've been lonely for-"

It's Catherine’s turn to cut him off with a light slap to his arm. "Robert!"

Robert Evans raises his eyebrow and smirks while pointing at Catherine. “Oh you- you’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”

“A woman never tells her secrets,” she responds with a blank face before rolling her eyes as he starts to laugh harder than he already had been.

The problem, Catherine figures, is that for all Elvis and his career are on the decline, he's still a very attractive man. A man who knows how to charm a woman - if the line of girls she can say have slept with him is any indication. Sure her father and Robert had both warned her about the possibility of him having said line of girls running behind him. But it's another thing to see it right in front of her face. It's another thing to have him mock her with these women. She's heard so much about his professionalism on the job that to see this in front of her makes her think just maybe she might have made a mistake. 

He was the wrong choice and she let herself get swept away in the visuals and how he sounded across the table from her when he read for her. There was something there. She's seen it in other films of his and she saw it when he sat across the table reading his lines as if his life depended on it; which if she’s being entirely honest, perhaps it somewhat did. Perhaps he knew she held his career in her hands. She’s heard whispers of the films his manager has him preparing for and she knows this is his last shot at anything truly good. The last shot at something that might stand the test of time and might turn everything around for him. The only sure bet in Hollywood might have been a Presley picture but nowadays the only sure thing when it comes to them is that they’ll do poorly. Box office poison. But Catherine thinks she can handle it. Thinks that it’s half-way what people expect from her anyway. Still, she had trusted him to be professional and keep his womanizing ways to, at the very least, a minimum on her set and yet it hasn’t even been a week of costume tests and making sure everything would be going smoothly and he’s already charming the production team. What was next? A starlet waltzing in with him as he shows her around the lot and the production while her eyes somehow still have stars in them? He’s a has-been but he’s still pretty, even with just a little more bulk than he used to have when he was younger. He can still bring them in- charm them and make them smile and giggle and say “oh Elvis” like he’s younger and actually their age. 

Except that’s what she wanted isn’t it? She wanted the man you could see somehow might have charmed Stella before showing his true colors. She wanted a man you could see might be able to keep Stella and get her pregnant and- was capable of unspeakable things. Someone who could be capable of unspeakable things but had a face that might make you think he wouldn’t. Stanley has sheer, raw animal magnetism and Elvis has it hidden right underneath that exterior. She heard it in his reading of the lines, she’s seen it on camera for herself. She knows that it’s there but she needs it on the screen, she needs it to be filmed and not flaunted in front of her. 

She ought to have a talk with him, she thinks. Ms. Wood is due on set today after a little scheduling mixup and she has to tell Elvis- no, Mr. Presley that ahead of time. She knows they had a dalliance once upon a time but she’s also heard how she tried to teach him how to act, a few lessons here or there. If anyone asked Catherine, she likes to think they did him a world of good in trying to harness some of his raw talent. Though she wouldn’t admit it to his face or really anyone’s face if she’s being honest. Truthfully she’s been wanting to work with Natalie for quite a while. This opportunity presented itself and felt almost serendipitous. A leading lady very enraptured with her significant other who her leading man knew once upon a time. What could go wrong? 

As it turns out from the way Elvis nearly opens the door on Catherine’s face as she tries to leave her office- a lot could go wrong. 

“Natalie. That’s my Blanche?” Elvis’s temper is barely being kept in check, some sense of professionalism and decorum and his mother’s way of teaching him to be a good Southern gentleman stopping him from bellowing at the top of his lungs. 

Catherine feels her eye twitch just slightly at the way she can hear his anger simmering. It reminds her a bit of her own simmering beneath the surface at any given moment. He can’t blow up any more than she can in this moment, or so she hopes. “Your Blanche? Since when have you become a director? Or a producer, Mr. Presley? She’s my Blanche, yes. Is that a problem?”

“You know damn well it is!” His voice ticks up just a bit almost yelling but not quite as he shuts the door behind them, knowing it’ll be all over the tabloids if some errant person caught them arguing in the hallway. “Everyone knows we- I know her! She knows me! You had to have known that, Princess.”

“Must you call me that infernal nickname,” Catherine spits out, using the height her heels give her to try and seem as tall as Elvis is, making sure he knows he can’t intimidate her. “"Not everything revolves around you, Mr. Presley. Ms. Wood has always wanted to play Blanche and-" 

He holds up a finger and she can’t help but glare at it over the rims of her glasses. "Cut the horseshit. Somehow ya get Natalie goddamn Wood and it doesn't get whispered 'round town. That’s a dirty goddamn trick" 

“A trick!” Catherine can’t help the way she practically squawks out the two words. "I did it for you! Is that what you want to hear? That I figured you'd appreciate a friendly face who knows you? You are an incorrigible and  ignorant little boy masquerading as a man." 

"Then why did you hire me, Princess? Lil’ charity case for Hitchcock's daughter? Takin' in poor lil’ Elvis Presley?" Elvis mocks, his voice gaining the faintest hint of an airy English lilt. 

“Do you truly think that- I reiterate Mr. Presley, my world- the world does not revolve around you. Your little gang may treat you as the sun and whatever girl you currently have as the moon, but I am not them! I have- This had- I only wanted to help you. You were as nervous as a little boy in your audition. I’d have thought I was talking to a 21 year old version of you. I’d have thought he was auditioning for my film, not a 32 year old! She is a friendly face in a sea of unfamiliar ones on a film set that is of far higher caliber than any of the other ones you’ve ever been on.” Catherine doesn’t realize how her chest has started to heave in sheer aggravation. 

"That's the problem, Princess. I haven't- haven't talked to her since- God, West Side Story, ya know that musical she did. And you talkin' 'bout how Elia recommended her- the hell else is that supposed to make me feel?" His own chest is heaving a little in frustration, here she is in front of him looking every bit the professional he's beginning to truly realize she is and looking so put together like every starlet and every star he's ever seen despite her own chest heaving. It reminds him that's not what he's gotten to enjoy. Sure he's been a star but not like she's dealt with, not like Natalie's been since Rebel with Jimmy Dean. It sends another rush of fury and embarrassment through him. "I'll tell ya how. Like ya cast me out of your own amusement. Wanna see if those acting lessons she tried to give me meant anything."

"Are you- I knew you thought highly of yourself but are you joking with me right now? Why on God's Green Earth would I jeopardize my career over casting you to amuse myself. Why would I jeopardize ever getting to work in this town, with or without my father's assistance, ever again? Do you hear yourself?" She can't help the way she pulls herself to her full height, not reaching Elvis's but still managing to make herself as large as she can. Her hand moves to push him square in the chest. "I thought she would put you at ease. They didn't want me to cast her, said she had a better film to do than this. But Elia and Tennessee and myself all intervened. I got you Ms. Wood to help you. For heaven's sake, that's everything I've been doing."

"I didn't ask ya to! I-I can- I can do it m'self." He snarls, grabbing at her wrist. His stutter betraying him. "Don't- I don't n-need your pity."

“Get your hand off of me, Mr. Presley!” She tries to wrench her hand away from his grip before he lets go. "My pity? That's- you think this madness you are going to wreak on my set is something I'm willingly taking on because I pity you? You are the most self centered-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Hitchcock." He hisses, moving to crowd himself into her space once more. 

"Oh! Oh he remembers I have a name and not a little nickname he so graciously gave me! Brava, Mr. Presley! Perhaps you could remember that I am your-"

"Director, I know. Some fuckin' one ya are. Can't tell ya actors a direction they need to take." His hand moves to his chest, marveling in just how much her shove had hurt. "Or is it jus' me ya don't wanna help."

It's that exact moment that Catherine realizes just what might be one of the complications she hadn't foreseen when working with Elvis Presley. Truthfully the idea hadn't even occurred to her in all her arguments with herself and with others. Was Elvis someone who thrived under praise? Under being told what to do by someone he saw to be in a position of power over him? Did he truly need someone to direct him? The irony of it all, the irony of a man who commanded- or controlled a group of friends and compatriots called the Memphis Mafia needing someone to tell him what to do? From what she had known- heard- he bristled under ideas from those inside his circle and yet perhaps that was the key. To be from outside and not on the inside.

"I didn't know I was speaking to a child, Mr. Presley. Do I need to tell you exactly where to stand? How to compose your face into something other than a charming little smirk? How to appear menacing for an audience who needs to forget you're Elvis Presley? Would you like me to hold your hand?" Catherine knows her tone is judgmental, knows how her accent thickens and quite honestly she thinks it has taken on what she would like to argue is that of a school matron. 

Elvis’s face morphs into something that raises a flag for Catherine, makes her think of what she’s been envisioning when it comes to Stanley. This is a man she should fear and yet in this moment she knows it’s Elvis and he’s a good Southern gentleman, he wouldn’t hurt or hit her. “Listen here- I don’t need ya patronizing me, Princess. I’m a grown man who doesn’t- I don’t need any of that. I know how to do my job.”

“You know how to play Elvis Presley.” Catherine retorts, watching as he takes a step towards her as she moves back. “I don’t need Elvis Presley.” 

“You’re not gonna get him.” His words are practically growled out and Catherine raises a singular eyebrow as he continues. “You’re gonna get what ya cast me for. I just want to know what ya want me to do. Want t’know I’m doin’ it correctly since ya so certain I can do it.”

Catherine manages to keep herself from saying the first words that come to her mind and  instead just stares down Elvis, almost challenging him to say more. He’s not wrong with what he says, that she’s certain he can do it. She’s so certain he can act better than most of his films have allowed him to show. It’s- It’s just that she has to coax it out of him, foster his talent and then she can show the world what she can see beyond his sparkling eyes and crooked smile. At his continued silence, her lips curl up into a bit of a sneer as she tilts her head just so that she’s looking at him over the rim of her glasses.

“Mr. Presley, do I look like your mother? Only existing to praise you for breathing?” 

Elvis physically recoils at the words and Catherine realizes in that exact moment that perhaps it was an unwise choice of words. An unwise response, but it can’t be undone. The words have already left her mouth and already done their damage. After a second she sees his jaw clench and flex before he eyes her up and down. “My mama’d have smacked you for that, and I oughta.”

Catherine can’t help the way her eyes drift down Elvis’s body, taking in how tense he looks minus a slight jiggle to his leg. He’s holding back and actually stopping himself. For all he’s being an uncouth cad at the moment there’s a part of him that realizes, as much as his mother might have wanted to hit her for saying that, he can’t. He won’t because of some Southern gentleman manners. It almost makes her laugh but she refrains and manages to move closer to him, mocking just that little bit more. 

“You didn’t answer, Mr. Presley. Do I look like your mother? Does the woman you’ve decided to call Princess look like your mother? Should I tell you that you’re doing so well? If I had known you needed that I wouldn’t-”

“Goddammit, woman!” The shout that comes from Elvis has Catherine choking on her words in shock. The boom of his voice so close to her reminds her that she is dealing with a man who, other than acting, sings for a living. The sheer anger she feels radiating off of him should terrify her, but she’s never been one to back down unless she truly wants to. No, this has her mouth gaping open just slightly as he speaks, his anger still palpable.“Don’t fuckin’- I- Just because you’re my director ya can’t just- say things like that. There ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ wantin’ ya to just tell me if ‘m doin’ somethin’ right.”

There isn’t and yet the fact that Elvis is bringing it up in such a way has her on edge. It’s almost as if he wants to force her to do it. It makes her want to make him beg for her to give him direction. She doesn’t think she will, but perhaps it would teach him a lesson about coming onto sets and proving every one of his naysayers right. Catherine is so in her head that she doesn’t grasp how Elvis has crowded her against a wall until she realizes they’ve been walking around her office to the point where she ran out of room to walk backward. Indeed she only registers it when she feels the press of the wall against her back and looks at Elvis to see him glance at the wall and smirk. He has the audacity to smirk at putting her in this position. She sees his mouth start to open and before she realizes what she’s doing she hears what she’s done.

Smack. 

Elvis immediately backs off and nearly collides into her desk. If she wasn’t feeling so angry, if the rush of aggravation and annoyance wasn’t coursing through her veins she’d have thought it was funny how it happens. It almost would have been fitting in one of Elvis’s films. No, instead she moves to stand up straight- her hands dusting imaginary lint off her clothes- and starts to walk to the door, her heels clicking against the floor. It’s only when she’s at the door, her hand poised to open it that she turns around to see a still stunned Elvis leaning against her desk. 

“Prove you can do something right, Mr. Presley. Prove that this means as much as it should to you and maybe I’ll have a kind word for you. And it’s Ms. Hitchcock to you, not Princess.”

The door opening and slamming shut as her heels clicking gets farther and farther away finally yanks Elvis out of his stupor as his hand moves to rub at his stinging cheek.It shouldn’t excite him in the slightest and yet he feels a tightness in his pants that he’s choosing not to dwell on as he stands up and jiggles his leg, adjusting the fabric as he does. 

“Stuck up Princess Hitchcock,” he mutters as he opens the door, checking to see if anyone sees him leaving the room. “Actin’ like she knows- She wants me to show her, fine, I-I’ll show her. Got this part for a reason and I ain’t lettin’ her ruin it.”

It’s only as he’s about to head to the actual set that he pauses and says three simple words before opening the door, a charming smile on his face. “She slapped me.”

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted, @be-my-ally, @steph-speaks, @burninlovebutler, @headfullofpresley if you don’t want to be tagged for this series, tell me, i just copied from one of my other elvis fics/took from the last tags i kind of had for the last chapter. but also if you do, give me a heads up. i'll try to get to the tags that didn't work within the next day unless y'all find it first.

[smokeybrandreviews]

Festival Season

I am a massive fan of MegaTen games. I love everything about them; the battle systems, characters, and overall world. I fell in love with the summoning and fusion systems of these games almost immediately and longed for other franchises to do something similar. It was basically Digimon Fusion before Digimon was a thing. Who wouldn’t want to Lego two Pokemon into a goddamn MewTwo? The missus introduced me to this brave new world with the purchase of Digital Devil Saga so long ago. It was one of the first gifts I ever got her. Watching her play that sh*t really awakened something within me. It was like watching my kid brother playing Final Fantasy IX for the first time but with, you know, violent monstrosities. Way back then, during the golden age of the JRPG, on the PS2, we made it a point to play all of the obscure titles. Nippon Ichi and Atlus were our bread and butter. We had copies of Stella Deus, every DIsgaea available, and even Soul Nomad. No one talks about Soul Nomad. One day, she came home with Persona 3. On that list was Persona 3 vanilla. Bro, after we booted it up and those first few notes of Burn My Dread popped, I was hooked. I must have put three hundred hours into that game. I conquered everything I could in that game, romanced every option, and completed one hundred percent of that sh*t. I unlocked every Persona on just two runs and readily did it again when FES released. The Answer was kind if disappointing but I didn’t mind running through the enhanced world of P3 once again. And then I did it one more time when P3P dropped, though, admittedly, Portable is my least favorite of the lot. Persona 3 opened my eyes to a world of RPGs beyond just your Final Fantasys and Dragon Warriors. Because I enjoyed this one game so much, I was open to trying out others. I wouldn’t have touched Magna Carta if not for Persona. I would have missed out on Rogue Galaxy. Wouldn’t have given Shining Force EXA a second thought. If I had never played Persona 3, I would have never played 4 or 5, and that sh*t seems so bewildering to me because those games are some of my all-time favorites. In fact, for a long while, Persona 5 was my favorite of these games. I wrote a whole thing about, about how, while I loved 3, 5 was a close second. It had legitimately closed that gap after Royal dropped but then Persona 3 Reload was announced. Guess who pulled ahead once again.

I got Reload day one and immediately dove into to. It felt familiar, yet, new. It definitely got all the bells and whistles that made Persona 5 so enjoyable but was still definitely Persona 3. I got my copy for the PS4 so, while the presentation is loads better than the original, and it shows, it’s comparable to Persona 5. Having that “side-by-side” experience just solidifies that P3 IS my favorite Persona title and one of my all-time favorite games, period. I was a little bummed Burn My Dread wasn’t the opening song but Full Moon Full ain’t too shabby on its own. More than that, the quality of life changes are amazing. It’s the little things like the Online Saves or the fact you don't get fatigued in Tartarus anymore. I love how the original character designs got a remix, bringing them closer in line with that Persona 5 aesthetic, and boy do they steal from that P5 aesthetic let me tell you! The thing is, though, it feels full circle to me. I remember, way back when I was playing P5 (shout out to Tae Takemi, best girl in the entire game), that P5 feels like the spiritual successor to P3 in every way P4 is not. Don’t get me wrong, P4 is a classic, but it feels out of place in the trio, almost disconnected. Also, I remember hating Teddy. It’s like, did P3 influence P5, only to have that sh*t bleed back into Reload? I don’t know, and I don’t really care. I get to play Persona 3, on my PS4, with the look of Persona 5. I cannot stress how dope that is. Also, Satanael is DLC. You KNOW I bought due and have been decimating the early game! Thanatos is my second favorite Persona, always, Alice is the first (especially after I customize her), but Ren’s ultimate Persona is a strong third. Like, laughably so. There’s just something about summoning a Demon God that feels so…powerful. Also, you shoot God in the face. How can you not love that?

I’m ten hours into Reload and it is everything I ever dreamed  a full-on Persona 3 remake should be. This isn’t that bait and switch FFVII pulled with Remake. No, for all intents and purposes, this IS Persona 3 but with modern game play and graphics. It’s like I’m popping ion the game for the very first time, damn near twenty years later. The Protagonist is as stoic as ever and the city of Tatsumi Port Island is alive with a vibrancy only the power of PS4 could bring. Building this game on the Unreal engine was a stroke of genius because the models are crisp, detailed, and fluid. There are so many little particle effects that make everything pop. The biggest upgrade is the UI. The thing is, I’m old as f*ck. I’ve been gaming since the old NES days. I’ve seen the evolution of video game and, for me, they peaked way back in the PS3 era. When P3 originally came out, I had no problem with how the title was presented. It got a little flashier with P3P and Persona 4 added their own flair, but Persona 5 really went in on the showmanship. P3R gets a bit of that and it goes a very long way to captivating the player. I thought modern hardware would affect the charm of these OG designs, but it doesn’t. It actually enhances them considerably. It’s subtle, but the bodies are longer, the eyes are smaller, and the overall proportions feel more realistic. I kind of love it. I also love the redesigns, so far. I mean, Mitsuru is gorgeous and I adore the new-ish Elizabeth model, but I’m holding judgment until the very end when I get to see Nyx again. And definitely get my ass throttled by her. Now, admittedly, not all that shimmers is gold. The fact that the Answer, the additional part of FES, isn’t included in what is a very obvious FES remake, kind of bones. I hear that it will be DLC down the line and that sucks. I like Metis. Her design was dope. I’m also not that huge a fan of Thanatos’ first reveal being made with in-game models. The visceral nature of that genesis feels lost when not in animation. It’s good in its own way but, goddamn, did that sh*t hit different way back when. These are, of course, superficial gripes because I am having the time of my life with this game! And it’s only the first play through. That New Game is about to slap crazy hard! I cannot wait to run it back with my heavy hitters on deck. Satanael be damned, getting Thanatos and my laughably OP Alice in the mix is going to be the best!

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

In regard to Roo, I have a theory about a connection between her and Eve. With Roo shaping up to be some sort of personification of evil itself, maybe she doesn't have a true physical form of her own and needs a vessel to do her dark deeds. Maybe eating the fruit of knowledge made Eve vulnerable to her possession. And as a result, Eve has had many moments throughout her life and afterlife where she's in control of her body for one period of time before Roo takes over for another to cause all manner of chaos she wants. Sort of a Norman Osborn and Green Goblin scenario.

I think this would make for a very shocking way for our wayward souls to be introduced to the Root of Evil. They meet Eve at some point in their endeavors and she (thinking she's managed to contain Roo for good) offers to help Charlie and Lucifer redeem sinners to make up for her role in allowing sin to manifest on Earth, only for her personality to take a sudden turn around as she breaks down laughing madly and then suddenly Charlie finds her new friend replaced with the ultimate evil.

What do you think.

Hello again my friend.

Oh they are certainly linked in my opinion. Its spelt all out in the few moments of the Amazon show.

I already pointed out that Roo that I believe she is Alastor contractor. Using her smile as the damning evidence.

The smile its is overly stretched similar to Alastor, plus the red eyes. I think Alastor smile is force. Not because we saw stitches that would force him to smile when his more demonic magic shows...which is suspicious. But I think its Roo signature that no one realizes. I think he would try to keep a smile as a personal policy regardless because it special to him between him and his mother in his living life. But it would definitely fell a few times if he actually was able to do so.

But how is the red eyes and smile connected to Eve you may ask.

BAM

Tho backstory lore of Heaven and Hell in the first few mins of the show, was shown in black and white. The only colors were used were gold to show Heaven/angels and red for evil and Hell. The very first red was shown as with the words angles shielded all from evil. Cue the first picture. The unnamed dark character (but we know its Roo)

The next show of red was the tree of knowledge. The tree that bare the fruit of mankind first sin. It....even shown the roots in red. The color the show picked for evil...the roots are evil...root of evil...Roo.

Eve bit into this forbidden fruit. She ingested evil and committed the first sin.

I find it very interesting that they show her smile turning red-after she accepted the apple. I think the red (as well all the red eyes) and smiles is Roo symbolism.

I been toying with the idea that Roo doesn't have a physical body myself. Surprisingly I forgotten about Eve when I been wondering this and focusing on Alastor.

My thoughts on it so far, but been too distracted to conform it in rewatches. When Alastor shadow takes life on its own, I think that's Roo manifesting in his shadow. To watch how things are playing out or to aid him. I remember in Alastor lore about the overlords, it was pictured his shadow was doing all the work. So it makes sense if actually Roo that brought them down with such ease by storeaway in Alastor shadow. Roo being his animated shadow is also a nice representation that he can't he separated by the darkness that he bonded to.

Ugh edit in bold. I just realized I was thinking too small. Roo may already be intermittently possessing Alastor. His song bit in the last song could been Roo the the whole time. And the animated shadow is the "evidence" he being possessed. (Along with all the red eyes out in the background) Roo may have more tangeablity being in control of Alastor, but is still severely stunted in terms of powers that they use to possess. So that can be her hunger for freedom to "unclip her wings" And wishing to pull the strings for grand scheme of things and revenge. She needs a more powerful body....a fallen sephium or a princess of Hell perhaps? I don't think it happen but not implausible.

I lowkey thought she was staging a set to possess Alastor. Forcing him to get things ready to and prepare him as a vessel and his own unwilling demise of his soul. Which Alastor is kept out of the loop on but already heavily suspects it regardless. Which is why he so frantic to trying to find a way out of contract before gets to that final step. But now hes weaken and does not have the aid of his staff so he has to tread more carefully but he doesn't have the time for that.

But Eve...no, that makes more sense. As I mention its insanely suspicious Eve hasn't been a player to the game yet. I mean, granted her soul is thousand upon thousands of years old, which meant she had to survive almost just as many exterminations. But I doubt a key character would be killed off well before the show took place.

The angle you threw in with Eve is a perfect plot set up. Imagine....the first sinner...redeemed. The motivation there as you pointed out. To make amends for creating Sins, bring evil to Earth and the creation of Hell. The publicity it would bring to the hotel. The amount of guest who would check in if the first sinner gets redeem. Its appears to be a win-win for everyone!

It's such a perfect setup for Roo to stowaway in Eve to finally bring their evil to Heaven doorsteps. I'm pretty sure, bring Heaven to its downfall is Roo final objective. Having the first sinner bring evil to Heaven is beauty poetry in Roo objective. I really like that idea.

I don't think Roo would have ill will to Lucifer, Lilith or Eve...since they unintentionally help her further her reach to Earth. Unless there might been additional lore when Lucifer fell into Hell and discover Roo they might been some conflict and he managed to contain the evil. By somehow taking away her corporeal body so she became more of a looming presence then a threat. unable to interact with the world properly. But Roo ancient, she'll find a way to to return.

[wfanfic56]

Nettle's poison | Price x Reader

"THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU THESE DAYS??!! YOU ALMOST KILLED US!!!"

"I didn't know... How would I know that C4 was planted there?"

Price and I got into a bad fight... No one ever remembered a fight like this, and most of all, this was our first argument between us. We came back from the mission... The boys were heavily injured when the apartment exploded, and I barely saved him from the enemies while Price was outside covering us with a sniper.

The team was listening us, together with Laswell... They all witnessed that Price had changed these few days, no one knows why, no one knows the reason, but he became reckless. And this argument crossed my line...

"Okay, listen, I know you're angry, but we should take a deep breath, calm ourselves down and focus on the next mission"

"Yeah, but without me!" with that, I left his office and slammed his door shut... I couldn't bare this anymore, and thats why I started packing my things, and as I packed them, I felt guilty... Guilty that I couldn't prevent this situation about the explosion.

Soap was watching me and he slowly came closer to me. "Lass... don't leave us please. We don't know what to do without you. You are more our family and leader than he is."

"Don't say that... He lead you through everything... he just has a tough period... that's all* Even though I hate him right now, I don't want his men to think of him as a man not worth called leader... And with that, I just left the base, leaving my guns on my office desk.

Months have passed and I enjoyed my new life... in a small house on a Greece beach, and planning on opening my own cafe. The dream life of mine, it was all perfect, until I was knocked out...

I don't know how long I have been captured, tortured...Every day was the same. They were putting my head under water and hold it until my last breath and they pulled me in the last moment, then the beating that comes afterwards.... And finally when you think the torturing is over, they lock your hands and legs and turn on electricity... Every inch and corner of my body is burned and has marks... They treat you like an animal and that's the only way to survive.... To become an animal...

---------------------

She's MIA for seven years... The last known location was in her apartment in Greece... I wish I never had an argument with her, I wish I was more careful... She would be here by our side, by my side...

Gaz came to me, he was panting, trying to catch some breaths...

"She's alive, captured by Russians... Makarov is behind this... he knows she's your weak point...

----------------------

When the doctors looked her up, they revealed to me that she went through thick and thin... But most importantly... she wasn't the same... She was an animal...

At first I didn't believe them, until she attacked me in the cell where she was knocked by Laswell... An unrecognizable woman...

Nikolai told me once, that songs brings memories and so I looked through her laptop and found her favourite song, one that carried a strong message. At first I didn't understand it because it was on her native language, but then, the tears came out of nowhere when I translated them...

"When my love was picked by you,

You trusted by your whole heart,

As I repeated that song many times...for the first time... I was poisoned by her voice, that was good for my ears, just like a nettle for our health...

That my soul isn't poisoned by sadness"