#and other times it's amazing

[gongyussy]

(✿◕‿◕) die (ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ✿)

[musubiki]

my favorite fields of mistria boys 🥰

[umblrspectrum]

i hate perspective. happy new years also

[reunitedinterlude]

we're so back (2024 edition)

links + screenshots for archiving sake <3

tumblr 2024 year in review: web celebs

tumblr 2024 year in review: ships

tumblr 2024 year in review: web series

tumblr best rpf ship

twitter rpf conspiracy awards

[tenowls]

rivals

[noisyghost]

i can't let you leave

[astudyinimagination]

That's weird, I never got those impressions at all. Then again, I did know that there was a much worse book out there, can't remember the name, that truly was trying to capitalize on Jeremy's illness... But a book about the Granada adaptation does have to contend with the fact that, as it went on, Jeremy's health went downhill and so did the quality of the adapting.

The book literally ends with a chapter about Jeremy's joie de vivre. Plus, Edward Hardwicke — who we know was one of Jeremy's dear friends in the last ten years of his life — wrote a lovely introduction for the book that praises it, and I don't think for one second he'd have said those things if he didn't believe them.

I have never heard of anyone who met Jeremy Brett or knew him criticizing the book for being sensationalist. It's generally regarded as a labor of love by those lucky people (some of whom I've met), as well as the closest thing we have to a biography from someone who actually knew him. (There's another sort of biography out there but the author never met him.)

Now, maybe I should go back and try to look for bias, but the only bias that I can recall from my last reading (which was only a couple of years ago) was just how much David Stuart Davies did care about Jeremy. If anything, that might be why it reads so negatively to some people — I can imagine that it would be really hard, sometimes, to write about somebody you cared about who was also kind of sort of a friend who had declined so much in the time that you'd known them.

Guys, Bending the Willow is making me so angry again!!! I thought it will be mostly about Jeremy's brilliant Sherlock performance, his talent etc and instead honestly I feel like there were a few praises of his performance at the beginning of the series and then mostly making a sensation out of his problems, commenting on some of the things he said or did in a very patronizing manner and of course calling him fat. It's insufferable! At this point I feel like the author neither liked and appreciated Jeremy nor was a fan of his Sherlock creation.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

This wine tastes like pigs blood!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[goneatlas]

who's doing it like them

[demaparbat-hp]

Thinking about @stygiovictoria's Roleswap AU.

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 2/?

*slips another piece into your mailbox*

_____________________

Jazz was still feeling a little woozy from his donation in the dark hours of the morning. Blaster had breakfast changed from the usual to something that felt more like a treat, probably a reward for his good behaviour, and to help his body recover. Fish heavy in proteins, fat, all that healthy stuff. Something that normally he would have tried to savour, but he wolfed it down from excitement. Too many questions ran through his head, and most he couldn't bring himself to voice.

The mer, the mer would pull through. Blaster told him about how he had saved their life with his blood. Praised him high and low. Because Blaster knew how Jazz felt about seeing blood, about how hard blood tests were for him, and that was only a tiny vial. Not three big bags of it. Jazz hadn't seen how much they had taken – because he had kept his eye closed until they left in a hurry –, and hearing about it made him dizzy for other reasons, but he honestly felt real proud of himself.

It was a new feeling, different from other moments of pride – like when he figured out the lock codes. Yeah, this gave him butterflies and the drive to help more.

Blaster laughed when Jazz offered that the vets could take more if the other mer needed it. His handler didn't think it would be, but he would pass it on to the vet team.

Jazz's morning checks were a little off, expected with having a little less fluids and feeling off-balance, but it was kept short and quick. Blaster told him that if he learned anything more, he'd tell him next time he came by and then hurried back down to the staff area. Blaster was needed elsewhere, understandably as there weren't many mer experts here, though he did leave Jazz his waterproof stereo if he wanted to play some of his favourites.

But, the orca mer was far too busy causing a whirlpool from the laps he was swimming. He was too excited to sit still, and embarrassment be damned he started practising old vocals. He didn't remember much of his mother tongue, and he was pretty sure that his pronunciation was off, that or had one hell of an accent. Echo-speech was even more rusty. And once he had gone over and over what he could recall, Jazz began to really worry. A few sentences and handful or so of words was all he had? Gods, I hope I can at least make a decent first impression. Blaster said they were just like me, so hopefully, that will give me some starting points.

More than he cared to count, Jazz would swim into the shallow waters of the medical bay and hope to see something through that window. But no one ever came close enough for him to hear any news of the mer. He couldn't even see anything on his radar, wherever they had done treatment, it wasn't in the hospital ward. It almost felt like he was being purposely kept in the dark.

And just when Jazz was starting to worry that things had taken a bad turn, a group of staff turned up around four pm. He wasn't able to ask any questions, or rather they refused to answer. Shooing him away as they got to work. Starting with closing the gate to the bay to 'keep him out'. Jazz could easily climb those walls, but that wasn't the point. Even if the gate window was closed, he could pick up that they were setting up the water hammock. But it wasn't until he heard the cautionary beeping of the hoist lift approaching that it dawned on him – the mer was coming. Now.

"Jazz," Blaster called, "… Jazz," he blew the training whistle and finally got his mer's attention. "Stop pacing and get over here."

"But–" Jazz looked back longingly up the wall.

"Jazz," his tone dropped to a firm one, and Jazz begrudgingly swam over to the pier. The human crouched and made sure that they held eye contact before he spoke. "I need you to promise me that you will stay in your enclosure."

He sunk a little, trying to play into his cuteness, but being far too anxious to really pull it off. "What do you mean?"

"Jazz," now warning him. Blaster knew full well that he was more than capable of getting into or out of places he shouldn't, bloody Houdini mermaid, "this is serious. Things are going well, we want to keep it that way. Which means keeping things calm and feeling safe. You're excited, I get it, we all are. But in about an hour, they'll be waking up and – from past experience seen with wild Mers – they will likely freak out. And the last thing we need is you hauling your tail over that wall and making things worse. Understand?"

The beeping was louder how and the hiss of hydraulics caused Jazz to look up. The arm of the lift was visible over the wall. They're here!

"Jazz," Blaster hopelessly called for his attention once more.

Within moments, a massive bundle was carefully raised, the staff calling out and coordinating. Jazz's gaze was fixed on the black and white fluke poking out, it was the only part of them he could see, and his heart began to race. Once they became hidden by the wall again, Jazz moved back to pacing by the gate without even thinking. Listening to people hopping into the water to unstrap the mer and call back n' forth. "Careful, careful! – Watch the head! – Someone give me a hand over here! – We're clear on this side! – Keep the head up!"

Really starting to sound like a broken record, Blaster chirped the whistle and called out to him again. The expression he wore must have been pretty pitiful because the look on Blaster's face dropped. "If I open the view port… will you promise me that you will wait, that you will stay in your enclosure?"

"I promise," he answered hastily, placing his hands on the gate, over the panel that would slide open.

"And that you will wait until everything is in the clear, till the staff come to oversee the integration. There will be no rushing things and no asking staff when we will open the gate."

"I promise," he repeated, trying not to beg.

Satisfied, Blaster pulled out his radio, "Blaster to Control; when the team is out of the Mer enclosure's medical bay, open the view port. Jazz's stress is mounting without a visual."

"Can do," came a quick reply.

Though, opening the panel was not. Several minutes went by, the hoist had cleared out, and much of the staff had returned to their other duties. Only two remained double-checking the mer's breathing and pulse. The moment that the last of them left, Jazz heard the lock disengage, and he retracted his hands as the panel shifted and began to slide open. The window was too small to get more than his hand – maybe up to his elbow if he wanted to push it – through, and sat just at water level– any movement sending water hopping to either side. But it gave him a clear view of the surface area inside.

Oh.

Oh. Jazz stopped breathing. While the mer's body was mostly supported by the fabric of the hammock, cradling them on their side, effectively hiding most of them from Jazz's angle. Propped up on a soft floating platform was the mer's head, face towards the gate. Sharp features and elegantly shaped finials, with flattering lines of their markings complimenting the peaceful expression as they slept. The butterflies from earlier came back stronger than ever, his heart thundering as words fumbled from Jazz's lips, "he's beautiful…"

_____________________

-GLC

Orca Prowl really is just-- too fucking pretty, omg, I'm living through Jazz in this moment like when I first saw your designs of him.

I'm more than happy to continue writing for you, you bring me so much joy. I screamed when I saw how much you liked it. If you have any requests you would like me to add to the story, leave it in the tags or comments ♡ I now plan to continue until the tsunami and a bit afterwards, maybe more, we'll see~

Upd: There is a next part!

Previous

Oh. MY GOD. OKAY ALRIGHT OKAY ALRIGHT OKA

I'M ABOUT TO START PACING IN CIRCLES JUST LIKE JAZZ OVER HERE KDLCNFJFLFB PL E A S E THIS IS SO GOOD. The tension?? You can fucking TASTE it IT'S SO GREAT GLC I LOVE YOU

The way it all starts at night and then you (as a reader) have all this additional time to boil in your anticipation?? So fucking great. Like you can really feel how little power Jazz has over the wholse situation. The plot is moving but he doesn't have any saying in it. Well. Yet heheh

Anyway haha. Im normal and I made some art>:D

[stealingpotatoes]

heres a crappy venn (??) diagram explaining the dynamics in the tl4j time travel au bc it's easier than trying to write a full plot

[lepidjester]

in which gangle causes psychic damage to the entire cast

[cosmicdenro]

can someone take me to the back and use the gun on me

[breadandlottery]

The look on his face, the realization 💔

[serendippertyy]

just one of patchwork's silly little abilities... he's a lil unstable and glitchy at times but he's learned to take advantage of it and figured out how to change random parts of his code at will! he thinks it'll impress his mix-n-match mama but zooble is just more confused than anything lol