#help ive been thinking about Jack too much again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quinnfebrey · 4 months ago

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pls give me your review of Next to Normal London youre the only one i trust

do i want to talk too much about next to normal? yes, i do.

some disclaimers: first, i am extremely specific about my opinions on next to normal, so if you're thinking "that's a dumb thing to say!" well sorry but remember ive been marinating in this show for over a decade. also, this is just going to be a review of the principle cast! i did see a cover run but i wont talk about them here (feel free to ask about them though if you like)

alright, without further ado here are my thoughts on each actor + the staging/general thoughts:

diana (caissie levy):

i thought she did a great job overall, but i didn’t love some of the vocal changes she made to the songs. she has a beautiful voice, but her version of i miss the mountains was a little too “i’m performing!” for me. missed the needed rawness of alice here

i did really like her change of softening “can” in “i love you as much as i can” though

her acting was phenomenal, the moment with gabe's baby clothes was heartbreaking. she also had AMAZING chemistry with natalie, and i think her version of so anyway is my favorite that i've ever seen

i’m interested to see how she develops further into diana because i think there’s room for more understanding in the more nuanced parts of her character. she improved a lot as the show went on which tells me she struggles with the humor and manic side to diana that is more prevalent in act 1

dan (jamie parker):

i think his singing voice is perfect for dan, but his speaking voice was so strange to me. i don’t know if it was him trying to act around the accent or his true interpretation of the character, but a lot of his dialogue didn’t work for me the way his songs did. like i would be absolutely in love with a number and then he'd speak and i'd be thrown out of it i don't know

his acting was great though, i really enjoy this goofier version of dan than the original version. he's more playful and i really like that it humanizes him more and also helps bridge the dan that fell in love with diana and the dan of today

he's also i think the first dan i've seen play the role with so much anxiety? like clinical anxiety, he's basically having a panic attack at the end of i'm alive reprise/during the break. i really really liked the nuance that it brings to dan

gabe (jack wolfe):

his voice is great for the role, and the way he looks too just fits with the character idk really good casting here

he was definitely less creepy than i felt the original version wanted him to be, i haven’t decided if i like that or not. i think it added more to gabe’s development as a character, but i think took a little away from the fact that gabe is not actually a real person

he seems like less of a comfort object for diana in this version as well, which again i don't mind but changed the dynamic. this gabe felt more attached to the whole family

REALLY good solo in light, heartbreaking sweetness in i dreamed a dance

natalie (eleanor worthington-cox):

i absolutely LOVED her. she was by far the standout for me in this cast. her acting was perfect, she clearly understands natalie incredibly well, and her voice is wonderful too. very good understanding of the purpose of the songs.

she made a couple dynamic changes during catch me im falling that i thought were strange, but i could also see that coming from her trying not to copy the original

i think her natalie is the most scared that i've seen it played, which worked well with this interpretation of dan. it all built up really well to her breakdown in hey#3

i also felt a stronger connection between dan and natalie in this version more than i have with any other, so light hit a lot harder

henry (jack ofrecio):

i feel bad about this one but honestly i really did not connect with his interpretation of henry. that’s the nicest way i can say it

he seems like such a sweet guy and his voice is absolutely gorgeous, but... that's kind of where my likes end

he didn’t seem to understand any of the jokes he was telling because he couldn’t make any of them land (and he’s a very comedic character so what happened bro 😭)

he was too “nice guy." henry is written in a way that can come off really insensitive and whiny and it takes the actor bringing it to life to get away from that. he just didn't seem to add another side to it

for example, when he says “then i’m sure they will be” during catch me i’m falling i wanted a little more… i don’t know, hesitation or disbelief in himself? and when he says “why do i get denied” i was just like my god bro she’s dealing with real shit, get over it. acb’s delivery of that line comes across way more as like. im hurting because i don’t know how to help you, please let me help you. this guy was just a whiny boyfriend.

again, great voice, but everything besides his singing either just felt very flat or was aggravatingly annoying to me.

madden/fine (trevor dion nicholas):

honestly i don’t usually have strong opinions on this guy. his voice was great, he did a solid rockstar.

his biggest part for me is at the end when he’s trying to convince diana to stay in treatment. it’s the first time you see his douche doctor mask fall and you realize he genuinely believes his way is correct and doesn’t understand why it isn’t working. i think he did it really well, i’ve never seen a madden/fine do it with so much anger but it actually worked for me

staging:

honestly i applaud them for being brave enough to change this much. having a real set already helps me separate this revival from the original run

i think the lack of true set in the original adds to the tone of the show, though, so this production did feel very different and more concrete which made some of the weirder blocking not work as well (like during my psychopharmacologist and i). instead of feeling more abstract and conceptual it was like oh They're In A House

but i don't necessarily think it's a bad thing, i just think it makes it a slightly different show and a person's preference will probably just be which one they saw first. i'm sure people who see the london version for the first time will see the original and wonder where tf everything is lol

i also seriously missed dan wiping up during i’ve been (i know he still does it but the double bucket is SUCH an effective stage trick)

and i missed gabe's general parkour, again him really just owning the stage like that helps him feel like not a real person

my one criticism of the staging is that in my opinion it felt cluttered and busy at times

general pros:

the kids felt younger, particularly gabe (even tho the actor is older than aaron and kyle were?? he just looks like he’s 14 i guess), which i think changed the tone a little for the better. makes them more sympathetic

the band ROCKED. slight mixing differences but not unwelcome

i loooooved this version of maybe. literally every second of it was perfect.

general cons:

i don’t know if british people are just irritating or something but the jokes were not hitting unless it slapped them in the face. they also seemed to miss a lot of references like the one to macgyver, one flew over the cuckoo’s nest, sound of music, but they laughed at the portland joke EVERY TIME? lmao idk

why the balloons lol cut that pls

i’m probably missing soooo much so pls send specific asks about anything in the show (with or without my opinion attached lol) and i’ll do my best!

#anyway. let's discuss #asks #next to normal #next to normal london #next to normal west end #next to normal uk #jack wolfe #caissie levy #eleanor worthington cox #jamie parker

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honeyynymphh · 2 years ago

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I had a thought for a fic and bc I love ur writing…

copia x mile high club

first of all, thank you so much!! mile high club certainly is not something I would have ever thought of but it did give me an idea so here it is! Inflight Meal Papa IV x FemReader rating: E words: 2600 tags: dom copia, cunnilingus, sex, fucking on the job, drinking on the job, dirty talk, cheesy af, there is no resemblence to canon like anywhere in this story lmao AO3

summary: as an air hostess you are used to strange people, especially when they have their own private jet. but this was definitely the strangest one.

also Copia still has his moustache because I said so! I know nothing about flying, this is pretty silly and it is not checked so sorry for any mistakes!

Straightening your skirt you stand waiting for the passengers to board the plane. Last minute you’d been called in to help on an overnight flight to Italy by Jack—the usual pilot you flew with. Apparently, some priest was travelling back to his hometown for an important ceremony and his crew were short a few staff members. You would have refused at such a late request, especially as you had to wear a completely different uniform. It wasn’t the airlines—apparently the priest had insisted all the crew fit in with the rest of his staff.

What an arrogant prick.

But the money had been way above the norm and you rarely were asked to do private flights. And the uniform was not much different than your usual skirt and jacket. Except it was cerulean blue with little embroidered golden details—and a strange inverted crucifix emblazoned on the chest. You were just grateful it wasn’t a nun's habit.

You heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs to board and straightened your back, plastering on the practised smile. Many a jerk you’ve had to deal with and today would be no different—no matter how fancy an aircraft it was. You’d had a little snoop before. The whole aircraft was dark wood and detailed with the same shade of blue and gold. The jet was fitted with a main bedroom, kitchen, office and then the main seating area. God must be real generous, you think with a roll of your eyes.

The first person aboard is an older woman, her blonde hair styled to perfection and wearing a severe yet fitting suit jacket and skirt—all in black but detailed with the same hints of blue and gold as your uniform. She smiles at you and you gesture for her to enter, giving her a welcoming smile as you bid good evening. Next is a man…at least you think it’s a man. The smile on your face falters a moment before you right it again on your perfectly painted lips.

His dress is fine. He’s dressed all in black—though his jacket has the same little crucifix on it as yours—it’s the mask he wears that throws you. It’s silver, demonic and completely obscures his face.

Weird. But you were here to serve drinks and food, not care about the passengers and their odd choice of attire. The…man walks past you without a glance and settles into a chair before pulling out a rolled-up magazine from his trouser pocket.

You’re too busy still looking at him when a voice says, “Buonasera, Signorina.”

When you turn towards it, you’re met with a pair of mismatched eyes set in a face painted like a skull. But despite it, it’s still an attractive one and the man’s voice is pleasant—the Italian lilt to his words makes your smile genuine, if not a little bemused. He’s dressed in a dark blue suit, way too tightly fitting that it’s almost indecent.

He takes your hand, the soft leather that encases his hand is buttery soft and warm. He kisses your hand, moustache tickling your skin. He introduces himself as Papa Emeritus the Fourth before he gives you a smile and heads into the plane. You watch, bemused, as he greets the other two—the woman talking quickly and hovering around him like a mother hen. He waves her off with some words in Italian and disappears down to the back of the plane.

That cannot be a priest, you think. Maybe Jack got the information wrong. He looks too…you don’t even know. You rub at your hand. At least he didn’t seem like a complete asshole, nor had he started preaching—and really, that was all you cared about. You kept staring off down towards the back of the plane, mind still fixated on the mysterious man.

“You ready?” says Jack, ducking out of the cockpit.

“Huh?” you say distractedly, head snapping to look at the pilot.

Another crew member has appeared, she’s wearing the same uniform as you and she’s standing there patiently waiting for you. You had only briefly spoken to her earlier, she had said her name was Sister Hayley you think. A nun. Not that the woman looked anything like a nun.

“Arm and crosscheck?” he says.

“Oh, yes, right.”

When miles above ground and flying somewhere over the Atlantic ocean you’re giving out drinks. The man in the silver mask declines anything, choosing instead to lounge on the plush seating like an overgrown cat while the woman—who had politely introduced herself as Sister Imperator—sat in one of the comfortable chairs at a small desk. You’d given her a drink—a gin and tonic—and then headed down to go find the enigmatic Papa Emeritus.

The office is empty and so you head to the bedroom, the door is closed and you knock politely before sliding it open. You find the man propped up on the bed, book in hand and a pair of glasses perched low on his long nose. He glances up at you and the darkly painted lips quirk into a pleased smile. It makes your stomach flip.

“Sir, would you like a drink?” you ask, standing there with your hands clasped in front of you. “Or something to eat?”

The man gives you a smile, easy and smug. Again you wonder why he was wearing such tight trousers. What the hell kind of church was he from?

“Si, wine, per favore. Anything from the stock in the kitchens. Pick something.” He gives you a long look. “Two glasses.”

“No problem, sir, anything to eat?” you ask. Fuck you wish he’d stop looking at you like that.

His painted lips quirk but he shakes his head. “Just bring the wine, signorina.”

You head to the little kitchen and randomly grab a bottle, simply picking one based on the label. You grab two glasses and then walk back towards the suite. You smile politely as you enter and place the glasses on the little table next to him.

“Is this to your liking, sir?” you ask, holding out the bottle for him to inspect.

“Papa,” he says, leaning over to peer at the label before he nods. “Not ‘sir’.”

You pour him a glass and place the bottle beside it. “Is there anything else?”

He closes the book he is reading a throws it on the bed, you catch the cover—it’s in a different language but it has a picture of a goat and a pentagram on it. He waves a hand at the other glass.

“Pour yourself one as well, signorina.”

You frown at him. “That is kind of you, but I am working.”

The man winks at you, grabbing the bottle himself and pouring out a measured amount. You watch the liquid slosh in the glass.

“I promise I won’t tell,” he says, extending it out to you.

You take it and hold it awkwardly, the smile on your face fixed. You did not want to get in trouble with Jack and lose your job. But a glass couldn’t help and you’d attended to everyone. You sip it and Papa smiles.

Somehow you end up two glasses deep. It’s not enough to make you drunk but damn it’s enough to make you feel far too relaxed. And you’ve somehow found yourself sitting next to him on the bed. You really should go back though. But it’s been lovely chatting to him, he talks of his flock with affection and mentions Sister Imperator fondly.

“This might be a stupid question,” you ask, the wine having loosened your tongue, “but what exactly are you a priest of?”

He laughs and it’s such a pleasant sound that you can’t help but smile. You’ve grown used to his strange face and it’s somewhat endearing to watch the lines on his face move as he chuckles.

“Not a priest, dolce,” he says. “Once upon a time, si, but now I am Papa.”

“You say that like I should know what you mean,” you reply.

“Like the Pope.” He grins. “Less preaching about the good of man and much more sinning.”

You cannot help but laugh, it sounds ridiculous. “I thought god said sinning was bad.”

“We do not worship a false god of fabricated mercy,” he utters, voice low. You stop laughing at the serious expression on his face, but it melts away when he adds. “We worship the lord below who relishes in sin. We are human, si? So we should take comfort in the pleasures it provides.”

“You’re telling me you worship the devil?” you ask, breath hitching when he leans in a little closer.

“Si,” he says, eyes fixed on you. “And I fear I have not worshipped in his name today at all. Perhaps you can help me, dolce?”

Suddenly his mouth is on yours. You freeze a movement but when you respond, his hands hold your face and pull him flush against him. His mouth is urgent and hot against yours, tongue delving into your mouth while your legs tangle together. Your lipstick is smudged red over his face and you’re certain he’s covered yours in black—you can taste it on your own lips but it doesn’t matter. He kisses like he is worshipping, hungry and possessive. It makes your head spin and you completely forget that this is certainly a breach of conduct. Especially when he’s flipping you onto your back, dragging your legs to the edge of the bed as he pushes your skirt up to bunch around your waist/

“Sorry, dolce, but now I’m feeling rather hungry.”

You hear the snap of your garter belt and feel the tension ease around your stockings so he can pull your knickers down your legs. Before you can draw another breath his face is between your legs, his breath skating over your wet folds before his tongue is flicking against you. You moan, hands instantly grabbing tufts of his peppered hair between your fingers as he works some sort of ungodly magic on your aching cunt.

Fucking hell.

Your back arches as he draws the tension out, leaving you panting on the edge of delirium. His arms move under your thighs and pull you closer to him as he devours you. You pull at his hair and grind against his face, unable to stop yourself from seeking more glorious threads of pleasure to wind tighter around your core.

His mouth breaks away as he can come up for air. You stare at him with a heavy-lidded expression, taking in that wicked mouth all glistening and smeared with paint by your own slick. He looked like the fucking devil and you were more than willing to sell your soul if it meant he wouldn’t stop.

“Cazzo, your pussy is delicious, dolce,” he breathes, nipping at the inside of your thigh.

His face returns to press against your cunt. And that nose! It’s pressed against your clit, mouth wet and tongue searching while his moustache tickles your skin. You arch back and your hands grip the sheets as the plane suddenly rocks—turbulence. Fuck.

Jack’s voice floats through the plane’s intercom system, certainly a mood killer, but Papa doesn’t stop.

“Please return to your seat, we are experiencing some mild turbulence.”

The craft rocks again but your eyes are too busy rolling into the back of your head as he eats you out like he’s on death row and you're his last meal.

You moan when you feel fingers, leather-clad ones, pressing into your pussy and stretching you. You bounce on his hand when you hit another pocket of turbulence, and his grip on your thigh tightens while the other hand is busy pumping into your wetness. Another pocket and another moan have you on the edge and trembling.

It doesn’t take much to have you rocking along with the aircraft as you come. You try not to moan too loudly and shove your fist in your mouth but Papa leans up and pulls your arm away from your face, that devilish visage hovering over you.

“Don’t silence such pretty sounds, dolce.”

You sigh, luxuriating in the waves that still ripple through you while the plane rocks again. Fuck. You feel his body move away from yours and you sigh. Your eyes had fallen closed as you relaxed but they snap open when you feel him crawl on top of you. He’s rid himself of some of his clothes—well, most of them. A heavily unbuttoned shirt was the only thing on him. You can see the hairs on his firm chest and when you feel his cock pressing between your legs you immediately spread them for him.

When he sinks into your welcoming pussy you moan. The stretch feels incredible and you desperately tilt your hips so he can sink in further. When he bottoms out, you both sigh. Papa has removed his gloves, and his large hands hold your hips, creasing the fabric of your uniform even further as he starts to pump into you.

You’re already so worked up and sensitive that you are already ready to come again quickly. Your walls are squeezing him and the sounds it draws from his lips are downright demonic. Your hands reach up to grip his shoulders so you can thrust up to meet him, both of your movements becoming hurried in your desperation for release.

“Do you want my cock so badly, signorina?” he growls, leaning over you and thrusting into you roughly. Your pant out a yes, or something that was meant to be a yes and only comes out as a string of incoherent nonsense as you nod your head fervently. “You have to come for me first, dolce.”

A hand moves between your bodies and he's rubbing at your swollen and sensitive clit. You cry out, not giving a single fuck that the entire plane can probably hear you. The plane rocks one last time and you hear the seatbelt sign turn off. But you are barely paying any attention to anything else except his cock buried inside you.

The tension in your core tightens again and with another deep thrust he has you coming apart for him. Your eyes shut as it crashes through you but he doesn’t stop. Your hands are gripping feebly at his shoulders, then the nape of his neck, his hair and then fistfuls of the front of his shirt to bring his mouth against yours.

You feel his cock swell within you as he growls against your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lips as his hips jerk. You feel him come, painting the inside of your cunt as he continues to thrust into you while his tongue does the same to your mouth. It’s desperate and you’re sweating in your uniform but you don’t care. It feels far too fucking good.

When the high finally eases and he rolls off you to lie beside you, you sigh in relief. Fuck that was something, you think.

“You call that worship?” you pant, turning your head lazily to look at him Your makeup and hair must be absolutely ruined because his is completely ruined. He looks deranged with his hair falling in his face and his paint all smeared.

He hums. “Si. My lord believes in the power of the female orgasm. Is there anything more divine than pleasure?”

You shake your head, mind still foggy with bliss. You utter the only words you can think of.

“Did you still want your inflight meal?”

He grins at you. “Maybe in an hour or so, signorina. I just ate.”

#this probably isnt what you meant anon lmao #i looked at a lot of interiors of private planes and it made me depressed #wish i were stupid rich #fly to see the mutuals #the band ghost fic #the band ghost #papa iv x reader #papa iv x female reader #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #popia x reader #inbox <3 #my-writing

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echoingbirdsofprey · 11 days ago

Text

Take Me Back To Eden

One - When We Were Made

Pairing: ii x OC Violetta Kastor

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: swearing as usual for anything I write and this is not a slow burn, so there's immediately flirting and talk of an ex

A/N: Out of respect for the band and their crew, I've decided to use made up names, as it gets a little taxing writing the Roman numerals over and over. It is clearly explained who everyone is. I've also made up physical details if needed, some true (eyes that we know of), some not. The actual plot and storyline is entirely fictional except maybe some of the tour dates but those are also mostly rough estimates so don't come after me! Enjoy!

Violetta had no idea that the first thing she was about to do at her new job was tech for a ritual. Fresh out of school, she'd been hired on a recommendation by her favorite band, which was the craziest shit that could've happened to her. What band, you ask? Well, Sleep Token of course. Yes, the masked and mysterious collective hired Violetta to be a guitar tech. And she could tech with the best of them. She'd majored in music production and recording and she was top of her class. Her professor knew the record label owner and sent him a message because she wanted Violetta to be successful.

Well, what a way to start. She'd been thrown to the fucking wolves the very first ritual. Theo, their tour manager and lead on the soundboard met her and immediately pulled her toward the stage during soundcheck. He went over everything quickly and concisely as the sultry sound of Vessel's voice was overheard through the microphone.

"You're gonna hang with Jack tonight and he'll show you how everything works. We've got in-ears. We'll get you a pair to use for now and then the boys will want you to have a custom pair once we've decided to let you stay." Theo explained, placing a hand on her shoulder and smiling. Violetta knew this was her audition for the rest of her career. She was used to pressure but she couldn't have imagined the amount put on her in that first night.

Luckily, everything ran so smoothly that instead of coming out in a state of panic thinking she wasn't good enough, she'd been congratulated so many times she couldn't even count. She hadn't done much but noticed the mics sounded off just before the set, then restringing IV's 8-string Jackson when the top two strings gave way, faster than she'd ever restrung and tuned a guitar, and that made it all worthwhile.

The funniest thing that had happened that night was her becoming fast friends with Jack. He was just like her friend at home, Brian, except Jack wasn't gay as fuck. Not that she had a problem with that, but it could be a lot for people just meeting him. Jack was nice, down to earth, could joke about anything, and would take a selfie at the best moments. She really liked Jack.

Everyone had been stupid nice to her. It was later on, after the ritual, that she had her second dose of reality dished to her when she headed backstage. She'd helped pack away all the gear, and mind you, getting to help put II's drums away was the highlight of her life until she entered that green room. There, sitting and looking very normal, with a water bottle in one hand, phone in the other, was Vessel.

"Hi, you must be Violetta. You were top-notch tonight, darling." He said, the rumble and rasp in his voice so evident after singing. He looked like a dang noodle of a man, floppy brown hair and a clean shaven face, with crystal blue eyes that wrinkled at the corners with happiness. She smiled and thanked him, going to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. She kneeled down, taking one from the bottom rack and surveyed what else was in the fridge. Fruit, lots of energy drinks, cans of soda, sushi, and finger sandwiches of all different kinds. "Feel free to eat anything too, hun, that's all for us and the crew."

She wasn't terribly hungry, but she thanked him again and sat across the room from him at a foldable table that was set with several folding chairs. She took a few sips from her bottle and took out her phone. She scrolled through the pictures that had been taken that night by their photographer, Alex. One in particular she quite liked was of II, the drummer. He was for sure in the moment, sticks blurred in the air, and his head thrown back as if in ecstasy. Speaking of the drummer, that was who came through the door next, taking a can of Coke and a bottle of water out of the fridge. He took up residence on the couch that was facing where Violetta was sitting. He glanced over and smiled.

"You must be Violetta." He said, soft spoken and slightly higher timbre than Vessel. She nodded and he smiled again, his deeper blue eyes lighting up. He looked tired and still fairly sweaty, even though she was sure they'd cleaned up, but maybe he hadn't just yet. He was the shortest member of the band, but still taller than Violetta as she was a short five feet tall. He popped the Coke open, placed it on the floor by his feet, then unscrewed the cap from the bottle of water and chugged half of it before putting the cap back on.

Jack swooped in, gave Violetta a bear hug, then swooped out with water and some food on a plate. He poked his head in again, realizing he'd forgotten to tell Violetta something.

"I think you're rooming with one of the guys tonight, if that's okay? They're not too annoying." He said, a lilt of humor in his tone as he smirked at Vessel and II. "But ask Theo again, he'll be able to tell you." He said and then he was off.

She glanced down at her phone just as she received a text.

Unknown Number: hey 👋

She tilted her head and sneakily looked over at Vessel, then II. They were both on their phones. The timing of the text was rather conspicuous.

Vi: hi, who you?

Unknown: wouldn't you like to know 😏

Vi: yes. I would in fact

Unknown: who do you think I am?

Vi: honestly, don't know, but you're timing is awful fuckin weird

Unknown: is it?

Vi: yeah 🙃

Unknown: Oh c'mon, just guess

Vi: are we using real names or the numbers that Sleep gave you?

Unknown: clever girl

Vi: you're in this room with me, you have to be, otherwise you're standing out in the hallway

There was a pause in messages. She hadn't thought to listen for a text tone, but she looked up just as IV walked into the room. He didn't have his phone out.

"Hey, I really appreciate how quick you restrung my guitar. You did a great job, babes ." He said and she couldn't help but smirk at his use of very British slang. He walked to the fridge and stood in front of it, surveying the food and drinks available for a few moments before grabbing a few things on a plate and sitting down at the table next to her, but sort of across from her.

Unknown: well?

She didn't hear a text tone. She glanced at Vessel, and typed a message back.

Vi: you all have blue eyes

Unknown: okay?

Vi: is it a requirement to be in Sleep Token? Have pretty blue eyes?

Unknown: possibly, you think my eyes are pretty?

Vessel and IV hadn't typed anything. Vessel was scrolling. IV had just sat down. She averted her eyes to II, who was also scrolling.

Vi: floor tom

Unknown: kick drum

She watched as II's thumbs typed fast as fuck.

Vi: snare

Unknown: you like?

Vi: I have questions

Unknown: shoot

Vi: how the fuck did you get my number

Unknown: Theo

Vi: are you flirting with me?

Unknown: are you?

She looked up and straight at II. He smirked but didn't look at her. He typed something back.

Unknown: hi, I'm Cal, am I your favorite?

She stood, going to throw her empty bottle of water away.

Vi: it's always the quiet ones

She clicked the number and saved it as "Cal" with a little drum emote in the notes. She received a text.

Cal: ✨️

Vi: did you just use a sparkle ✨️ emote?

Cal: I did, yes

Cal: im your roommate by the way

Her heartbeat picked up and she full-on stared at him, lips parted for a split second, then she bit her bottom lip and took a breath.

Fuck .

Cal: is that okay?

This time, he turned and she gazed deep into the ocean blue of his eyes, her very emerald ones seemingly lit with fire behind them. And not a rageful fire, but a very lust filled one.

Vi: how'd you know you were my favorite?

Cal: im good at guessing

Vi: guess my next move then

Cal: why don't you guess mine?

Vi: nope

She grabbed another bottle of water, a can of Coke, said "good night" to the guys, then headed out into the hallway, running into Theo. Cal stayed seated for a few moments before deciding to do the same and try to catch up with Violetta. Theo stopped her for a moment.

"Hey! You were awesome tonight. I meant to tell you earlier, Cal's your roomy for tonight. I figured that might work for you since he's pretty quiet and easy to get along with. I gave him your number so you could get the room key from him when you were ready for it." He explained and Violetta nodded and thanked him. He pulled her in for a hug. "Welcome to the crew."

She smiled wide and then headed down the hallway. She became aware very quickly of the drummer's footsteps behind her. He caught up to her, grabbing for her hand.

"Hi." He said, same soft tone as before. Violetta smiled and she could feel her cheeks getting redder by the second. He was...cute...no...he was hot. He was both. He had a little bit of facial hair, matching dirty blond hair on his head and through his white t-shirt she could see some of the dark, traditional, and colored tattoos that painted his chest. He had two full sleeves of tattoos as well that crawled their way onto his hands. The black body paint really did a great job of hiding it all. She glanced down at his hand that was still holding hers.

"Sorry." He said, going to pull away but she stopped him.

"Still flirting with me?" She asked, intertwining her fingers with his. She felt him twitch like he was going to pull his hand away but he stopped himself, mesmerized by the way his hand fit in hers and the tattoos on her arms.

"Do you...want me to?" He asked sheepishly. His heart was pounding out of his chest just being by himself with her.

"I was kind of enjoying our little text dialogue. Never had that happen before." She said, a wide smile forming on her lips.

He studied her for a few moments, before bowing his head and pulling her toward the exit door. The hotel was just across the street, so they walked, acting like a normal couple, but she could tell he was slightly on edge, by how his grip on her hand tightened slightly. He didn't want to be recognized, she surmised.

He led Violetta to the elevator, going up a few floors before they exited and walked down the hall to room 409. He fished in the pocket of his shorts, tapped the card on the sensor, and the door clicked open and he allowed her in first. He flicked on the light. To her surprise, someone had thoughtfully brought her bags up and placed them on the single bed.

There's only one bed. Fuck. Oh, wait, there's a couch.

"You can have the bed, sweetheart . I'll take the couch." He said, touching the small of her back before taking a pillow from the bed, saluting, and diving onto the couch with an audible " fuckin' hell".

She felt her temperature rise again at the use of the pet name. She wondered what III's nickname for her was going to be, since he was the only one of the boys she hadn't met yet.

She sat on the bed and glanced over at II...or Cal. She placed the can of Coke and her bottle of water on the night stand that filled the space between the couch and the bed. He was laying down, arms behind his head, his phone on his chest, and his eyes closed. He'd kicked off his shoes and his legs were propped up on the arm of the couch. Violetta leaned back against the pillows, turned the light off and took out her phone, setting the brightness as low as possible.

Vi: you don't have to sleep on the couch, it looks uncomfortable

Vi: also that can of Coke is for you

She waited and glanced over as she saw his phone light up. He took a second, opening one eye, typing a slow response then sending it.

Cal: really?

Vi: really what?

Cal: you can't just talk to me?

Cal: also thanks, how'd you know?

Vi: I can, I just kind of though this was cute

Vi: I guessed

Cal: very cute...sweetheart, if I come in that bed, we're not sleeping

Vi: is that a threat?

Cal: it's a fuckin promise

She sat up, her heart racing. What a fucking player. She didn't think he was like that. She responded back.

Vi: that's awful forward of you

He shifted, turning on his side with a loud sigh, then typed back to her.

Cal: im staying on the couch...not a good look for your first day if we fuck around

He'd been able to relax a little and feel confident in his words, as he wasn't saying them out loud. If he'd had to, he wouldn't be saying any of this.

Vi: maybe my second? 🤭

Cal: you're fuckin adorable

Violetta smiled and closed her eyes. Her phone vibrated again.

Cal: let's get to know each other first...not saying I'm not interested... I'd just like to know you better ...makes the sex better

Violetta let out a little squeak and laughed quietly. She kind of hoped he didn't hear her, but he probably did. She put her phone down next to her and rolled onto her side, letting her dreams take her to places she'd never been before, with the drummer hot and heavy in her thoughts.

¤ ¤ ¤

Conveniently enough, the next morning was not a show day, so the boys and the crew could relax. Violetta was still a little in college mode, so even though she'd gone to sleep past one in the morning, she still woke up at six a.m. her body ready to go for a walk like she did every morning for the past four years. She opened her eyes and it wasn't as bright as she'd thought. She certainly wasn't going to go for a walk in a country that she didn't know, without people she knew, so she looked over to the couch. Cal was gone. She looked down at her phone, which had two texts.

Cal: left you the key, text me when you're awake

The other was another unknown number.

Unknown: mornin, girlypop, waiting in the next room for you when you wake up

Violetta shook her head and smiled. This kept getting weirder, but more exciting. She dressed quickly, black leggings today, and a maroon Sleep Token sweatshirt over a navy Northlane tank top. She tousled her hair, putting it up in a claw clip, letting her bangs fall over her eyes. Now she knew III's nickname for her.

She took her phone and the key card, and headed out into the hallway. She texted the unknown number, who she was pretty sure she knew who it was.

Vi: uh, which next room?

She only had to wait a few seconds before she heard a door click to the right. A short girl with black long hair had stepped out, followed by the tallest, lankiest, most British looking guy she'd ever seen.

"Hi, Violetta. I'm Piper. I'm the merch manager. This is Steve." She outstretched her hand for Violetta to shake and then she shook Steve's hand after. He smiled wide, the smile reaching all the way up to his eyes, making the corners wrinkle.

" Girlypop , huh?" Violetta said with a smirk. Steve's laugh bellowed through the hall and Piper smacked him on the arm.

"You're so loud." She said and he grabbed her around the waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Yeah but you like it. C'mon. Girlypop , breakfast time." Steve said, gently pushing Piper toward the elevator and making a come here motion with his hand at Violetta. When they stepped inside the elevator, Violetta took out her phone and texted Cal.

Vi: you didn't sleep much

It didn't take him long at all to respond.

Cal: mornin sweetheart, I'll meet you at breakfast

Vi: how do you know where we'll be?

Cal: you're not hard to find 😉

Violetta smiled as they left the elevator. They walked down a short hallway and entered a large dining room with several buffet tables set up. There were a lot of bands playing last night and a lot of them had stayed at this hotel. She followed Piper and Steve as they went through the line and grabbed food. Violetta wondered if she should get a plate for Cal.

Vi: food?

She waited a moment before scooping some scrambled eggs onto her plate, then bacon, some sort of sausage patties, and two muffins.

Cal: I'll share with you

She loaded the plate up with a few more things and saw that there were the big ass cans of Redbull. She took one of those and a big water bottle also. She followed Steve to a table, where Piper was already seated. Steve scooted in as close as he could to her and put an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

Out of seemingly nowhere, Vessel and IV showed up. Vessel sat on the other side of Piper with a muffin and a bottle of water, certainly not as close as Steve. IV sat next to Violetta with a full plate. He began devouring his food, glancing at Violetta every so often as she was slow to begin picking at her food.

Then she felt a presence beside her, a warm body touching hers. A tattooed hand reached out, stealing a piece of bacon from her plate to eat. He chewed happily and then placed one arm around Violetta's shoulders.

"Hi, sweetheart ." He said, low enough that only she heard it. No one seemed to notice him sitting, or putting his arm around her. Or eating from her plate the whole time. He even drank from the same can of Redbull as her, which made her chuckle a little the first time he took a sip, because he took it out of her hand and took a long sip right after her, then placed it back down.

Once everyone had finished, Vessel had volunteered to clear everyone's plates. Steve and Piper decided they were going to go down to the festival so they headed out soon after finishing. Violetta made sure she saved his number in her phone as "Steve" and put " Girlypop " in the notes. Cal still had his arm around her when IV sat back down.

"Sorry. I didn't actually introduce myself yesterday. I was so fuckin' tired. I'm Jesse." He said, offering his hand for Violetta to shake. She did and he smiled warmly back at her. Cal leaned forward and raised a brow at him. Jesse took Violetta's phone and put his number in by himself, then texted her.

Jesse: hey babes

She smiled and shook her head, then checked the little note next to his name. It was a winky face emoji. She immediately texted him back.

Vi: hi flirty

Jesse: you bet I am

Violetta raised her brows at him and he gently touched her shoulder before leaving the table, leaving her and Cal together. He leaned back again and took the last sip of the can of Redbull. Vessel sat down across from them.

"You can call me Roman if you want...instead of Vessel. Or call me Vessel. Or Ves. Doesn't really matter to me." He said, catching Violetta's eyes immediately.

"How are you going to give me your phone number, because everyone else's attempt has been an experience." She said with a grin. He also smiled and held his hand out. She put her phone in it, and he typed his number in the box at the top then gave it back. He'd left the name part blank.

"I leave that up to you, darling." He said, his super low baritone sending a shiver down her spine. She now had all four of the boys' numbers. She saved his as "Roman" but put "Vessel" in the notes.

"Anyone ever gets my phone they're gonna know all yalls identities." She said and glanced at Cal. He was scrolling on his phone, not paying much attention to their conversation, but his arm was still around her. It had fallen slightly and was more situated near the middle of her back now. He'd unconsciously begun drawing small circles there, which she had not realized until now. Her cheeks heated and she sighed, trying to put away any unwanted horny thoughts, but they just wouldn't stop.

"That's alright. We're on our way to revealing ourselves anyway." Roman said, finishing up the water he had grabbed.

"You are?" Violetta asked and he just nodded.

"We're healing. We've become something new." Roman said, then gently reached for her hand, placing his on hers for a moment before leaving her and Cal to each other again. She turned to him and he looked up from his phone immediately.

"You're healing?" She asked, brows knitting in concern.

"That's why I said I want us to get to know each other first. I have...some baggage...and I want you to be sure you wanna deal with my shit." He said, reaching for her other hand. He put it on his chest and she could feel his heartbeat was fast. Faster than it should be for sure. "This..." He motioned between her and himself, "is so unbelievably fuckin' nerve-wracking for me right now."

"Why?" She asked softly, spreading her fingers under his. He took a deep breath and she felt his heart kick up a notch more and his breathing quicken slightly as well.

"I had...an ex...batshit crazy. Trying to out us all among other things...which I want to tell you but I can't right now...but...she fucked us all up." He explained, trying to stay calm and not trip over his words.

"You don't have to tell me anymore right now." Violetta said, feeling his grip on her hand tighten. She saw hesitation in those ocean blue eyes of his. She could even catch a twinge of fear. "I won't pretend to understand what you went through...but I'll be here for you if you want to talk about it...and if you don't...we don't have to."

He smiled warmly at her admission and pulled her close for a hug to show that he appreciated it. When he pulled away, he caught a glimpse of her emerald eyes and he could've melted at how pretty they were in the morning light. Violetta leaned closer, the tip of her nose touching his and he closed the last few centimeters, letting his lips just graze hers, a ghost of a kiss. When they parted, Violetta noticed he was shaking slightly and she embraced him once again.

"What the fuck did she do to you?" She asked softly, not necessarily at him but just in anger toward his ex. She'd beat the shit out of the girl if she ever met her.

#sleep token #sleep token fic #sleep token ii #vessel sleep token #sleep token band #iv sleep token #iii sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token ii x oc

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mockerycrow · 1 year ago

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ive only seen like... 3 jack mitchell fics so how about jack mitchell x fem!reader with the prompt “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.” ?? :3

ONLY ONE CHOICE (Mitchell x Fem!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

authors note; anon. i’m actually going to kiss you so hard on the forehead!!! i did NOT expect any advanced warfare asks!!! this is short i’m so sorry </3

[WARNINGS; Overthinking, advanced warfare spoilers, fluff.]

MITCHELL HATES BEING away as often as he is. He hates only being able to talk to you through a speaker most nights and not face to face. He hates the fact that he can’t feel your skin against his most of the time, that you’re not there to help him through his phantom pain spells, or when he’s reliving that one day. That one day. The hushed conversations at night, the quick “I love you”s and deep talks are nothing compared to actually holding you, actually kissing you and genuinely looking into your eyes and not staring at them through a screen.

So when one day, you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the phone and he asks if something is the matter, he’s absolutely fucking baffled. Mitchell has to ask you to repeat yourself to actually process that you ask if he’s happy with you. You begin to ramble about how he technically has so many choices of women to choose from, and that you’ve been wondering if he’s unhappy—if you have been holding him back.

“No, just—stop talking,” Mitchell utters into the phone with a laugh, hearing you stutter. “Baby—baby. I don’t give a damn about the distance. Do I wish I could hold you? Sure, but it’s my choice to stay in the service.” Mitchell murmurs. “I wish I could hold you, kiss you and rub your back like you ask me to when I’m home.”

You try to interrupt him, but Mitchell continues without hesitation. “I wish I was with you so I could wake up next to you, have you in my arms—have you run your fingers through my hair since you like it so much,” He pauses, voice getting quieter as he gets a bit choked up. “I wish I was with you so you could help me tie my tie like when I first got my arm. I wish I was there so you could kiss my forehead when I wake up from my nightmares—I wish was there to do the same to you.”

Mitchell hears you sniffle over the phone, and he isn’t sure if it’s a good sign, but he continues nonetheless. “Do I wish I was with you right now? You bet your ass I do, but there is no one else I want. I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.” You let out a sob. “Fuck, you’re such a sap. Shut up.” You let out a broken laugh, earning you a loud chuckle from Mitchell. “I love you, and I don’t know why you question me about it, but..” Mitchell hums. “..I’ll always be here to remind you that I do.”

“I love you too,” You reply, your voice shaky. “I just.. all of the women in your company are so beautiful. I hear so many stories about military men cheating and I trust you, babe, I do, I’m just.. I’m me, and they’re them.” Mitchell replies without skipping a beat, saying, “And that’s why I love you, okay? You’re you and I don’t think I would ever be able to love anybody else. What’s that one saying about the.. the worm?”

You bark out a laugh, covering your face as your boyfriend is trying to remember. “What, the question of ‘would you still love me if I was a worm’?” You question, which Mitchell agrees enthusiastically. “Yeah! That one. I would buy a mason jar, build you a home, keep you with me. Attach you to my exosuit, baby.” You feel your face burn as Mitchell sounds serious. You giggle until you’re full on laughing again, forgetting about the tears staining your cheeks. Mitchell’s chest feels warm and fuzzy from your laughter over the phone—he could fall asleep to it, it’s so soothing to him. His favorite sound.

Your laughter soon dies down and you yawn. “Tired?” He murmurs, earning him a sleepy “mhm” from you. “Go to sleep, hon. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

#call of duty #cod #advanced warfare #cod aw #cod advanced warfare #advanced warfare x reader #jack mitchell x reader #mitchell x reader #jack mitchell x fem!reader #mitchell x fem!reader #atlas #advanced warfare fanfic #crow’s 4k celebration #cod fic #cod fanfic

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itsaspectrumcomic · 10 months ago

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man ok idk if youll be able to advise on this or something but like. do you know anything regarding dealing with like internalised ableism?

i live in a rural part of ireland, right? and idk what it is about rural ireland but some of the people are heinous. my school is in a small miserable-ass town and like. God, man. not everyone sucks, of course but like. jesus lol additionally i have a ~mildly ableist~ mother (a "we're all a little bit autistic" and "erm. youre not disabled because youre not in a wheelchair or blind/deaf" etc etc type stuff. + "npd = bad person" which isnt particularly good for me specifically because i have npd (that i both Cant get an official diagnosis for, for various reasons, and im not really Looking for one either because i know what i am and its not like you get support for it because ~ooh scary narcissist~.)

and like. idk if this is Obvious but that can kinda cause a weird-ass relationship with You (being Me in this case, yk how it is with the second person perspective when. ranting) and The Concept Of Being Disabled. like, objectively. im disabled. im autistic, ive definitely got adhd (that im hopefully going to get examined for at some point cause college stuff requires it for the disability forums and stuff. gotta love that. fuckin 80% comorbidity right?), ive got a laughable number of repetative strain injuries, i have a sensory processing disorder, an endocrine disease that effects my Entire cardiovascular system, a spine that felt a lil quirky and bent in too much. so on a so forth

but also like. it feels wrong to call myself disabled. yk, like im doing a disservice to all the other ~actually~ disabled people (being Anyone but me lol) (none of this is At All helped by the fact that my mother refuses to listen to me regarding Jack Shit about my health in Any way. "oh you nearly passed out on top of a hill because of your cardiovascular condition? erm youre just not exercising enough actually" "you dont have depression [said while i was filling out an assigned mood diary after being forcefully brought to camhs for Reasons" like. shut the fuck up and Listen to me please. at least Entertain the idea that i could be right about something for fucking once lmao. cause ive been right about EVERYTHING regarding my mental health so fucking far so. fuck off /nay ofc) (also man. like, even if you ignored the physical issues ive got im still disabled on account of being autistic. like, motor function is fine, despite being a lil clumsy and/or unsteady sometimes but like. my emotional needs are Fucked. think of the response youd get if you asked a. fuckin. 8 year old or something to do algebra. but with a very emotionally stunted and traumatised 17 year old lol. lmao, even /lh)

so like. if youve got. any advice or whatever on any of this thatd be Super cool + no pressure obvs. sorry this is a whole. like. fucking essay's worth of Random Guy Complaining To You On The Internet lol

-🐢 <- just so i can find this again if you respond. i Like Turtles. i am Normal about the tmnt and also turtles The Creatures. i wont talk at length about turtle mutant anatomy (i am deceiving you)

Internalised ableism is a really hard thing to deal with, especially when you're surrounded by people who constantly re-enforce it. I've also spent a lot of time worrying that I'm not disabled 'enough' to deserve certain accommodations, that I'm making an unnecessary fuss. But the truth is, autism IS a disability and if there are accommodations that can help support you, you deserve access to them. You're not taking away from others with disabilities by advocating for yourself.

It's taken me a long time to understand this and I still worry sometimes. What has helped is talking about my experiences with people I know understand, like my therapist or best friend, and learning about the experiences of other autistic people through books, social media, YouTube and even real life.

I'm sorry your mother and others aren't being understanding - remember that's a them problem, not you, and try to spend your time with people who do understand.

🐢🐢🐢 <- the turtles wish you luck

#🐢#ask #anon ask #autism #actually autistic #advice #autistic #autism is a disability #its a spectrum #long post

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crushedsweets · 1 year ago

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Can you talk more about Eyeless Jack? I really love him😔❤️

holds him in my hands... yes i can.. yes. i . can..

ive already gone on about his sacrifice and whatnot.. ok . ok. what to talk about. im gonna repeat hella stuff prob.

jack nyras .. mid-late 20s... human sacrificed to a demonic deity. . cute guy overall.

as i mentioned, similar to the proxies, he has a rando cabin in the woods. slenderman actually sees him as a good utility, so while he's not a proxy, he's kept around and allowed freely in the forest without any uhh... chaperone, i guess.

his cabin is even smaller, 1 bedroom 1 bathroom, small kitchenette, small living room, etc. there's a bit of an underground bunker, sort of like a tornado bunker. he keeps 2 freezers down there. u can imagine whats in them.

the main sort of ummm... like, driving issue and character 'arc' for jack is his guilt and battles w his own humanity. he was technically possessed by a demon/deity for a year straight, and while the demon is now 'resting', he still committed the atrocities he did, and he still relies on humans. for a while after he regains consciousness, he's really skinny bc its really hard on him emotionally to eat. eventually he just gets sort of numb to it (with the help of the other creeps.. not intentional help moreso 'dont be a pussy do what u gotta do man') . jeff is especially the one telling him to 'man up and do it' so he lives. toby and ben are more understanding of why its so hard for jack.

again jacks the eldest of many siblings. i'm thinking perhaps it goes.. jack>daughter>daughter>son>son>daughter. 3 sisters, 2 brothers. he was driving and working by time he was 16, his parents had too much pride to let him help with bills but he was getting groceries and cooking a lot of food for the house.

family meals were kind of a thing in the nyras household. jack was a good cook, lots of traditional meals, etc. he's been cooking dinner for his siblings since he was like 11. his dad always thought it was odd that jack took that on, esp since he had a sister a few years younger than him, but he legit just liked it.

there was a good bit of parental pressure to be a doctor, but if that weren't the case, he'd love to go into culinary. you know. before he had to cook human meat.

he can digest raw meat, and he has a theory that he goes longer between meals if he eats raw meat, BUT he often still cooks it and tries to make it just. more normal for him.

also he can and does still eat normal food, but it lost a ton of its taste for him. he relies still on human meat, but he can go like a 1-2 weeks between meals before he starts getting violent and dealing with severe pain. sort of like tokyo ghoul style ?

mmm.. he still has a missing persons case file open. his mother still tries to get the police to keep looking, and his brothers have even tried doing crazy shit like going into creepy parts of the city alone to figure shit out, but his sisters and dad eventually gave up and assumed he was dead. his mom still believes he's alive fully. none of them know what really happened to him

he works as human remains disposal for some rando guys that ben helped him find off the dark web. thats how he pays for the cabin, but the cabin is under brian's name since...... well. um. lol. jacks missing and presumed dead and he sure as hell isnt human enough to have a house.

cute guy !!!

#hcs #creeped #asks

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kuroshika · 2 years ago

Text

back on my bullshit with an addition to this post.

so, i established why i believe hannibal still cannibalizes people after he kills them, out of honor for his sister. and that's why he wants to eat will, etc.

but ive been thinking about how that further pushes the whole "we are conjoined" narrative. because hannibal does it out of necessity, will does it because he wants to. will has no reason to eat human flesh and organs and enjoy it at all, he just does it because he likes it.

obsession cannot exist without desire - hannibal's need to consume cannot survive without will's wanting to be consumed. hannibal's need to honor cannot survive without will's desire to be seen and loved as he is.

i think it just plays into will being hannibal's dark mirror; a reckless, self-destructive man with the urge to be accepted and welcomed without question as opposed to a put-together, calculated one who spent years refining himself and creating a different part of himself that solidified his place in society.

im sure somewhere, deep down, hannibal sees will as his opposite, but still as his equal. he met hannibal's needs with the part of himself that wanted to know what those necessities felt like, what being perceived beyond the public eye would look like.

it makes this odd codependency in both men - hannibal needs will to want him and will wants hannibal to need him. that's why hannibal being rejected by will and giving himself up in spite of that was so much harder on will than it was on hannibal.

hannibal knew will would come for him. he was very, very sure of the fact. will, on the other hand, did his very best to distance himself from it all. he married and had a child, a perfect suburban life that his appealed to his projection. but he wasn't fulfilled, he wasn't complete. there was something missing. he couldn't tell if hannibal needed him anymore. he'd promised not to think of him again, but he wanted someone to need that part of himself that he repressed so badly that it was nearly impossible.

hannibal had already proved without a doubt how much he needed will, and that's what will wanted. he wanted to be needed, to be useful for nothing but companionship, to be loved by someone desperately, and he got that from no one.

alana saw him as a broken teacup, something for her to try and fix. jack and beverly saw him as a tool to close cases and help the forensics team. margot saw him as someone who could give her an heir. molly saw him as only the projection he showed her, and didn't ache for the other parts the way he needed.

nothing fulfilled that ache quite like hannibal "it took divine intervention to stop them" lecter.

will wanted hannibal to need him. he wanted to dine with hannibal. he wanted to step inside him and think with his brain, see with his eyes. hannibal was drawn to the fact that will wanted that, from him, and the obsession stemmed from will's first few words to him - i don't find you interesting, dr. lecter. his need for will to want him was brought on by will very clearly beginning to reject his becoming in their earliest meetings - hannibal needed will to want more of him and will wanted hannibal to give him more.

i think that's why, furthermore, that hannibal wants to try and protect/honor will the way he couldn't mischa. the worst thing he can think of in regards to losing will is not death, but being unwanted.

that's why the cliff scene makes sense too, hannibal letting will push the two of them off the cliff instead of pulling will down with him - it was will's choice. he could die with hannibal or he could let hannibal go.

and he chose hannibal.

@lesbian-hannibal @craqueluring @7x16pm @shatteredlesbian

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quodekash · 2 years ago

Text

ITS ABAAB EP 7 TIME and i am sorry

warning: lots of happiness, too much happiness. take a shot of water every time i say any variation of ‘HAPPY’. stay hydrated, folks.

wait what happened to cher? did i miss something?

i dont remember how the last episode ended so its very possible that i missed something

awh 🥺

thE BED IS STILL ON AN ANGLE WHY IS THE BED ON AN ANGLE SOMEONE FIX THIS IM BEGGING YOU, ITS GOTTA BE A SAFETY HAZARD

pls they look so comfy

it looks like theyve been married for a thousand lifetimes

so comfyyyyy

rIGHT, THEIR GROUP HAD A FIGHT, THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED TO CHER, I REMEMBER NOW

YEYEYEYEYEYEYEYEYEYEAH BEACH EPISODE = PURE HAPPINESS AND DOPAMINE

THREEZO AT THE BEACH

WE’RE GONNA GET THREEZO AT THE BEACH

IM LITERALLY ABOUT TO CRY IN ANTICIPATION OF BEACH

i know i already said it like four times BUT THIS LOOKS SO FREAKING COMFY WHAT THE HELL

THREEZO THREEZO THREEZO

HELLO MY LOVELIES HOW ARE YOU TODAY

theyre literally in the middle of the frame omg

little babby

i love him

he’s tall but he’s smol

his HAIR

LOOK AT IT

THE HAIR IS SO FLUFFY

i think my favourite things about this series are jack’s hair and threezo

and theyre both tied for first place

three’s apology to jack is so freaking sweet omg

i love him too much

he struggles with words and communicating but he wants everyone to be happy and he doesnt want conflict and he feels responsible for everything and he is perfection and also he’s either adhd or asd or both, i dont make the rules

HAPPY

omg his awkward laugh is so cute why was that so cute

his sweet little ‘hah hah’

HIS FACE MAKES ME HAPPY

HAPPYYYYY

(damn i did gun/force dirty on that screenshot)

his freaking face

its making me happy

this is a happiness overload

im not used to this much joy in my system

what do i do with it

HAPPYYYYYYYYY

dads.

everyone can see you btw. just letting you know. you’re just standing there, holding hands

i mean that’s great, good job, not being scared is funky (but its also funky to be scared), it’s just that. you know. if your friends ask questions later and you dont want them to suspect anything then like. it’s your fault.

altho maybe they dont care if their friends find out, idk at this point

ignore me

HAPPY

everyone ganging up to push gun in the water. that’s what friendship truly is

HAPPY

they teleported

three was next to zo, jack was between cher and zo. they switched.

hOW?

HAPPYYYYY

THE HAIR

LOOK AT THE HAIR

they always figure out a way to squeeze it in

OMG

SOBBING

IM SOBBING

THATS SO CUTE

HELP

DAMN RIGHT

his hair is a mess lmao

bRO

HE SAID IT

HE SAID THE THING

ZOGUN FRIENDSHIP BONDING SCENE OMG HAPPINESS

he’s known from the very freaking beginning

before cher even knew

the gaydar is strong bro

HIS FREAKING FACE

HAPPY

HE HAPPY

PFFFFFFT

i love their friendship so much omg

(that screenshot looks like hes about to punch him lmao)

“zo, what is love?” i can feel it, im about to punch a wall or smth bc something threezo is coming

“what is love for you?” “three.” yUP I KNEW IT OMG IM GONNA FREAKING CRY

HAIR

FLUFFY FLUFFY FLUFFY ITS SO FLUFFY

i think i love this man (and his hair) a little too much but its fine

GJK3BERKJGBVRKEBGR

GUN WHAT THE HELL

AGAIN, THEY LOOK SO FREAKING COMFY

well shoot. thoop is mad at cher for being involved with gun.

good news is: i dont think its homophobia

it’s just that he doesnt want cher to move on from tian (thoop himself cant move on from tian) and he doesnt want cher to find a relationship because that means, in thoop’s eyes, he’s letting tian go, and thoop cant really deal with that because he’s ✨mentally ill✨

get some sleep my man

I LOVE HOW MUCH HE LOVES HIS FRIENDS

HES SO FREAKING CARING

HE WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIS FRIENDS

HED PROBABLY NEVER ADMIT IT BUT HE’S A REAL FREAKING SOFTY ON THE INSIDE

1. ive never seen more serious finger guns

2. you’re not bi, sir, why are you doing finger guns

3. finger GUNs

that is all

FINAL THOUGHTS:

if they dont give us a threezo kiss by the end of this show i will scream.

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aerodaltonimperial · 1 year ago

Note

Jack AU: Jack and Darby are room mates in a hospital

(The only hospital drama I’ve seen is Grey’s, and that place always on fire or being robbed or bombed or held up at gunpoint or planes coming down so…)

At first, Jack is alone in the room, which is great, because he kind of hurts all over and likes to be able to groan about the pain without anybody listening. But after a few hours, it seems like the rest of the victims are being moved out of surgery, and he ends up with a roommate.

He doesn’t complain, because a hotel collapsed. An entire hotel collapsed, and he’s lucky they could get everyone in; sheer numbers alone should have made it impossible. But it does mean that they have to double people up in rooms. Jack’s new roommate is unconscious, so it’s still quiet.

That’s fine. As long as the guy doesn’t up and die, anyway.

His roommate doesn’t die. Honestly, that feels like adding so much more trauma to a day Jack is already going to need extensive therapy for. He watched the topmost floor implode on itself as the rest of the building supports went down like dominoes, one after another. So the guy not flatlining in the first hour is actually great news. He even ends up opening his eyes, which are blue where Jack can see around the swelling.

But the nurses are running through the halls, and Jack’s pressed the button on his bed three times without answer. Since they’re both hooked up to machines announcing their continued existence, they don’t seem to be as important as the other people who, uh, might be faring worse.

“Hey,” Jack tries. The guy’s on oxygen, so talking is not gonna happen, right? Dude got out of surgery—he’s got to be in pain, more than Jack is. Does he need more meds? He’s got the IV in, shouldn’t a nurse be coming by to make sure he’s okay? Are all the staff members used to dashing through the halls like this? “Uh, you… you need anything?”

The guy stares at Jack over the oxygen, so Jack continues, “I’ve tried hitting the button, but, I think people are really busy? Cause the hotel collapsed? I assume you were there, too.”

He gets a nod. Progress; his roommate can still hear. That’s something.

“Sorry,” Jack says. He isn’t sure what else to say. “Can I do anything to help?”

The guy holds up one hand and sort of waves it a few times. Like he’s asking Jack to keep going. “Oh, I should keep talking?” A nod. Well, Jack can do that. His legs on fire, but talking is a good distraction. “Okay, sure. Uh, I’m Jack. Nice to meet you, under better circumstances at least. I don’t know why you were at the hotel, but I was there for a work conference. Ironic, huh? Do you think I’ll get Workers Comp for this?”

His roommate’s shoulders shake a few times. A laugh! Jack hadn’t expected that. This guy is tough as nails—probably has to be with all those tattoos. There’s a whole heap of black ink running up his left arm and disappearing beneath the flimsy hospital gown.

“So, anyway, I’m Jack,” Jack continues, “and I’m here because as the hotel collapsed, one of the umbrellas from the pool area hit me. It’s not even a cool injury. Oh, is that in bad taste? Shit, probably, but, like, it totally isn’t. A pool umbrella pinned me to the fence. Like, of all things. Do you think the universe is trying to tell me something?”

More shaking. More laughter—Jack’s on a roll here. It’s been awhile since he’s met someone who genuinely found him funny. He could get used to the warmth sliding up his chest, the pride.

When he glances over again, the guy’s watching him. Jack shrugs a little. “I’d ask your name, but…”

The cart he’s hooked up to is on wheels, and all the IV tubes and cords seem decently long. Jack scans the room. Then he reaches for the wall and drags himself, bed included, a few inches over. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to reach the paper and pen on the little table between them. Things have been so crazy no one even bothered to put the privacy curtain up.

He hands the pen to his roommate. “Can you…?”

The guy reaches for it. Holds it terribly, but probably better than Jack could. And he scratches letters on the paper until he stops. Jack squints. “Darby? Well. Nice to meet you, Darby. Thanks for not dying and giving me more PTSD.”

That’s definitely a smile reaching up into those eyes.

It takes forever for the nurses to come back, and when one does, she’s very haggard. Jack can’t really blame her. He can see stretchers lining the hallway, so they really ran out of room following the disaster.

Darby is in and out of sleep for the first few hours. Jack pieces together that he was in surgery, and it was rough enough that the nurses are a bit surprised he’s still doing okay. Surprised, but grateful. And by grateful, apparently they are just going to ignore him now in favor of the people not doing okay. Which… okay, again, Jack wants to give them a lot of credit for saving lives, but pain medication is helpful, y’know?

He talks to Darby when the other is awake. Tells a lot of stories. For some reason, Darby seems amused by the dumb shit Jack gets up to and all the situations he seems to find himself in. Jack’s recounting of the time he got food poisoning while stuck in a bus depot seems to positively delight him.

When he dozes off again, Jack only feels a little guilty staring at him. It’s totally not his fault that Darby is, despite the hospital gown and the oxygen mask and, you know, the fact that his stomach was apparently repaired in OR3, kind of really hot.

Listen. It’s been a really bad day. Jack’s determined to find that silver lining somewhere.

“Uh, no,” Jack says. “The Marvel movies are so overrated. It’s all reliance on special effects now. Really, the CGI team should get all those awards, not the actors.”

Darby is doing that thing again where he’s laughing and shaking the tubes running into the machine beeping along with his heart. He lifts up one hand, index finger extended.

“Yeah, okay, like the first ones were pretty good,” Jack says, because he’ll give him that. “The emotional impact with the beginning should be acknowledged.”

Darby closes one eye, stares meaningfully at Jack with the other.

“I know, I know,” Jack says. “Way too many now. I can’t keep up with anything. And they aren’t in order anymore? Are there, like, multiverses in everything now? Who can understand all of this?”

Darby offers a thumbs up.

“Well, sure, it’s all better than Snyder’s Justice League,” Jack says, and sighs.

Darby’s pain meds wear off, and Jack has to hit his call button six times before a nurse shows up to help. An hour later, they make Jack get up and try to put weight on his leg, which ends up being a real shitshow of pain but he manages it. Darby claps for him, which is nice.

There’s a lot of commotion outside their room. Jack thinks quite a few people died. Actually, he doesn’t like to think about that, so he tries not to. But when he falls asleep, he has a nightmare about it. Dead bodies everywhere, the hotel on fire. And the meds in his IV keep him out when he ought to be waking up, which prolongs the horror. When he wakes up, it’s because a hand is shaking his shoulder vigorously.

Jack comes to with tears in his eyes and his throat raw. Darby has pulled his own bed closer so he could wake Jack up; it’s his hand on Jack’s bicep. Jack grapples for the man’s fingers and squeezes them, trying to avoid the tape and the needle. God, he had to have been screaming himself hoarse.

They end up falling back asleep with their hands joined, elbows balanced on the side rails.

The nurse pulls the tube out of Darby’s throat the next morning, which nearly makes Jack gag. Fuck, that’s awful, but Darby recovers faster than Jack would have. He hacks for a few moments, and then looks at the nurse blearily. “You fixed my stomach?”

“From where the pipe went through you?” The nurse asks, eyebrows hiked. “Yes. We did.”

“So I can drink coffee when I get out of here?” Darby continues, all rough and out of use and sandpaper-y.

She doesn’t seem to follow, and neither does Jack. “Eventually? Yes.”

“Okay.” Darby turns to Jack, one hand still holding his throat. “When I get released, you wanna get coffee with me?”

“Are you…” Jack blinks. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Darby grins. “Yeah.”

“You’re insane,” Jack tells him seriously.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

Jack smiles back. “Yeah, I wanna get coffee with you.”

“Sweet,” Darby says, as the nurse just grumbles at the ceiling.

It takes five weeks, but they get coffee. Jack makes sure they don’t sit near any umbrellas, and Darby holds his hand the whole time. They take a selfie and tag their location as the hotel that collapsed. It’s the dumbest shit Jack has ever done. They end up on the local news, and Jack doesn’t even care. He’s too busy on WebMD trying to figure out when Darby can attempt strenuous exercise again after extensive surgery.

(“It doesn’t really need to be that strenuous,” Darby points out. “I’ll just lay against the pillows, and you can do all the work.”

“While I’m not against this,” Jack replies, “I’m worried about ripping your stitches out.”

“Everything you say just makes me more excited about this,” Darby tells him, and Jack thinks he’s being serious.)

#tag so you don’t lose this shit #is this the dumbest thing i have ever written?#hmmmmm you be the judge lol

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time-is-restored · 1 year ago

Text

more whinging bc i got negative hours of sleep last night and i need to stay awake somehow lol

cw: discussions of misogyny + abuse

god the more i think abt it the more exhausted i get by the gender politics of ted lasso.

like god i do genuinely think that rebecca's arc in s1 is one of the best depictions of a mean + cruel woman ive ever seen on TV specifically bc it manages to thread the needle so well? like they never tilt her balance too much and doom her to being either totally fucked up + evil OR totally soft and sweet and harmless. and ted's 'divorce makes u crazy' response to her apology STILL makes me crazy wrt the sheer. understanding and empathy there, and she's just. given so much more depth than ive come to expect, especially for an ensemble cast sitcom w a (then) p short run time.

but my fucking god. we literally don't learn a fucking thing about michelle. im pretty sure the one (1) concrete thing we know about her comes in the fucking finale, and it's that she's a teacher for... something. the two most important people in ted's life and we don't know anything abt them! they're literally just empty symbols representing the importance of Family™, and that vacancy does nothing but weigh ted's storyline down!

like, i liked michelle's episode/storyline in s1, bc the blinding novelty of a woman instigating a divorce not being the Actual Devil, as well as a just. generally very empathetic + nuanced take on how divorce shakes out between two ppl who really care for each other, was so 'WAIT TV CAN DO THIS??' that i felt satisfied with that being Her Arc™. divorce happens, life happens, people fall out of love, and it hurts but its ultimately okay. the show, at the time, was ultimately abt a football club and how caring abt that football club helped everyone around it.

but then the show sticks around, and her continued absence just... raises a lot of questions? how did the conversation abt ted going overseas happen? what conversations did they have abt henry? how long term was it intended to be? did money really not factor into it all? like it's one thing for a character's backstory to be vague when it's not really the focus of attention (s1 was ultimately rebecca's story before anyone else's), but when it's the load bearing stone of their '''''''arc''''''' in s3...????

like. god. and then it fucking infects every other woman on the show!

sassy + nora? well sure we'll give you a softball - you can have one (1) scene where a woman is able to resolutely and firmly reject a man asking her out without immediately being seen as cruel or gameplayey (not that the audience will see it that way! she's already a lecherous temptress for them!), but neither of them will ever be able to speak to rebecca onscreen again, even after the heart-wrenching scenes in s1 CLEARLY establishing them as a beating heart of rebecca's arc.

shandy? nope, don't even think abt her motivations/drives, just forget her. simi? LMAOOO imagine a black woman getting a personality beyond righteous anger. jack? three-four episodes, and we learn so little abt her that her conflict with keeley - which SHOULD'VE have been a huge emotional beat - just feels like a kick in the teeth (and while, yes, i absolutely agree that in a real world context, jack's rejection of keeley would be largely motivated by class, in Ted Lasso Land™ rebecca is just as rich - if not richer? - and we're never once encouraged to interrogate her priorities).

barbara's the one that really makes me miserable, bc i feel like on a show with less run time, she could've played REALLY well. she's a great contrast to keeley, has an amazing delivery, and the scene where keeley + her first discuss the snowglobes shows that she has the potential for some really moving vulnerability + pathos. but instead they give SO many of keeley's scenes to characters who ultimately get written out, so when barbara stays it's like... okay? sure? like, i was so stoked that barbara survived the Mass Exodus of side characters that i didn't wanna look the gift horse in the mouth but... wasn't the last thing we saw of her and keeley's relationship like. general resentment + distrust abt the shandy debacle? when did that improve? how???

i don't think i'll ever have enough mental real estate to explain how disappointed keeley + rebecca's 'arcs' in s3 made me, and at least there's the saving grace that. virtually no one other than jamie got a coherent arc this season, so at least it was on some levels an egalitarian screw up. but fuck dude. keeley was just forced to react to bad things that were happening to her, and we got to see her do her job (which, unbelievably, does actually involve things other than being an awkward manager!) precisely one (1) time.

i even like rebecca's arc on paper - i think it's really cool to see a character backslide so intensely in terms of obsessing over and struggling to come to terms w a past relationship, especially an abusive one, bc like. yeah! that shit sticks with you for longer than a season! and beyond that, seeing her regain her sense of self and what SHE actually gives a shit about was oftentimes just as sweet as s1. but her scenes were poorly connected, and she had to carry WAY too much of a burden as the Resident Speech Giver for any of her internal characterisation to make sense. like, sorry, but it's kind of hard to believe a character's Going Through It™ when they have to spent near 100% of their screen time giving Take It From Me, Kid, speeches. and then she's not even given a real opportunity TO fuck up + sabotage her relationships, even when she starts getting really weird w ted! it's all just so meaningless and like nothing that she does is ever going to matter. she never speaks to zava again, we don't get to see her interact w bex or kate, her pleas to ted get COMPLETELY shut down...

but the thing that REALLY makes me sick is this complete lack of interiority absolutely butchers the characters of jade + jane, who are otherwise RIFE with potential. like, jade is a completely unflinching, unapologetic asshole to nate + his family, and that's never interrogated. even in Sitcom Land™, it's more than reasonable to view jade's actions as racist, especially when she doesn't give the same treatment to others (at least not as i recall? honestly i usually watch the taste of athens scenes while peeking out behind my hands, so i could 100% be wrong here). and yet, suddenly, and completely inexplicably, she's charmed by nate. she wants to give him the time of day. she finds him attractive, and wants to date him, and generally take control of his life and force him into a decision that is literally the exact opposite of what he expressed wanting to do. except even that LAST thing isn't allowed to be interrogated, bc god FORBID a woman is enough of a fully realised creation to actually be culpable of the terrible shit they do!

and fucking jane??? beard's so head-over-heels for this woman that the emotional abuse + extremely controlling tendencies don't even make him bat an eye, and we don't get to know anything about her? she's literally just the suggestion of an alluring woman! good at sex! good at chess! fuck you if you wanna know more, even though the show ENDLESSLY hits you over the head with how painful their relationship is for beard - beard who is given virtually no other storyline. like, i literally can't read brendan's refusal to label jane as abusive as anything other than like. that bio-essentialism shit where ppl 'women are better than men <3' so hard that they end up genuinely and wholeheartedly arguing that someone's sex defines their morals - or worse, that their sex is a deciding factor in determining whether someone's actions are good or bad. not context, but a legitimate 'add points if woman, take away points if man' variable.

like that's so feminism 101 it's legitimately almost worse than nothing. that's like getting as far as 'hey so you know how we're all inundated with both implicit + explicit messaging abt what is Valued and Good for women vs men to-' before shoving ur earplugs in and going 'if you are oppressed by society we'll automatically stamp a 'good person' label on ur head and now we don't have to think abt any of our biases + internalised beliefs ever again <333'. the most useless and fucking pointless stand against the patriarchy ever, especially coming from the same show that ENDLESSLY slots characters into the 'loving gf/wife' archetype and then give them Literally Nothing Else. my comrades you have literally just done madonna/whore 2: oops all madonnas! this is not liberation!!!! this is a miserable cage!!!!!!!!!

im just. higgins' wife. mae. trent's daughter and anonymous 'her'. the women at the hotel and the restaurants and the firm and the fucking physios, fuck - dani's gfs! who are they? what do they want? where do they go when the camera stops rolling? can anyone hear me?? hello??? hello???? brendan hunt i am OUTSIDE YOUR HOUUUUUUSE

#ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso meta #ted lasso critical #dead girls by p.enelope s.cott has been stuck in my head for approximately a month bc of this fucking show #its so fucking nuts being treated to rebecca + keeley in s1 and then slowly realising w dawning horror that its literally only down from #here. and also listen nothing but respect to my comrades out there who can take michelle + henry as written #and immediately + painlessly extrapolate from their significance in ted's life to viewing them as like. important figures narratively #but to me they literally never got beyond the carboard cutout stage? like. yes thank you if u love ur family its sad when u leave them.#why'd he leave them then lol.#LIKE. if both michelle AND henry are just these. passive vessels who are neither invested in ted staying OR leaving london #and the only motivation we're EVER given for ted's move is 'michelle wanted space'. like sorry for wanting an actual deconstruction of ted'#motivations rather than the worst mystery box of all time! if i wanted a story abt 'man misses family :( please don't ask any questions abt #the family in question-' i could just close my eyes and imagine a stock image of a sad business man.#wagh. ted bud they gave you so much potential + so many demons and then just wiped them away w no exploration outside of like. two #scenes w sharon. u are also in this cage king but at least u got a good two seasons of mc character energy before they locked the door :(#something something sorry for having an ace attorney witness stand breakdown when the show i liked Was Bad. do u still want to be mutuals

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jjtheresidentbaby · 1 year ago

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im SO excited u reached 800 followers jj!!!

ok ive got a ton of ideas but firstly id LOVE a reconciliation fic with stiles and his dad with the prompt "i never want to fight with you. i love you too much to put you through that." i guess the context would be that Noah used to drink a lot but since finding out stiles uses age regression to cope with life hes been sober and trying to be the best dad he can be for him!

<3 @bebbie-bilinski

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ dump it out ⋆ﾟ⊹ ➢ event masterlist

|| stiles stilinski & noah stilinski

warnings: past alcoholism, alcohol, talk of Claudia’s death, hurt/comfort, this turned so sad whoops

After finding out Stiles regressed Noah’s been careful about his behavior, not swearing as much, trying not to share as many gory details of the job with his son, even if he searches them out on his own. But he’s never taken into account what happened after Claudia’s death, not until right now.

Stiles is standing wide eyed by the doorframe leading to the kitchen, his face is one of shock mixed with discomfort. It takes Noah a few moments to deduce what the issue is but then it hits him, he’s got a glass of whiskey set out in front of him, and the bottle sits opened on the table. He pauses and runs over what to do next, Stiles cuts his thoughts off before he can decide.

“Dump it out.” His voice is hard but has that signature slur to it that he gets when regressed, the one Noah’s never heard so upset. Stiles is usually such a happy little, he just wants to cuddle, to draw, to watch cartoons, he rarely gets fussy and never angry.

“Stiles-.” Again stopped.

“Please dump it out. I don’t- I can’t- dump it out or I’m gonna call Scott to come get me.” It’s paired with a sniffle Stiles is quick to cover but Noah still catches. His heart breaks hearing his kid so distressed, even more so when he knows it’s his fault.

After Claudia Noah was a mess, he’s not afraid to admit that, but it’s hard to see the consequences play out firsthand. He remembers yelling in Stiles’ face, finishing bottle after bottle, having so much grief that it turned him cruel. He never got to the point that Rafael McCall did, but he was close, and he knows Stiles and Scott have both talked about their experiences together. If Scott came to get Stiles tonight Noah’s not sure Stiles would ever come back home, not if Scott could help it.

“Okay, okay I’m getting rid of it.” It’s the only answer and even after the horrific case Noah saw today, he doesn’t need the drink. It’s not nearly as important as Stiles is.

The bottle of Jack gets tipped to lean against the side of the sink, spilling down the drain along side Noah’s half drunk glass that he tips over to empty. Stiles is watching his every move so intently it’s a little anxiety inducing.

“Kid I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have poured that drink.” He says as reassuringly as he can. He didn’t think before picking up the bottle of booze from the cabinet above the fridge, he just figured he needed something to calm himself, he should’ve thought about it more. He should’ve gotten rid of that bottle months ago.

"I never want to fight with you. I love you too much to put you through that.” Noah steps to put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, fingers gripping the sleep shirt Stiles has on that he recognizes is actually his own. It makes his chest warm to think that his kid wants to be like him, wants to have something to remember him by while he’s at work.

“I don’t like it when you drink, it makes you scary.” Stiles’ head stays ducked down as he mumbles the words come out. Stilinski freezes in that moment. He never thought he scared Stiles, of course he knew Stiles was upset about his drinking, mad at him, more distant, but never scared.

His arms wrap around Stiles within seconds, hugging his son as tight as he can. There’s a small moment of hesitation before Stiles hugs Noah back, sinking into the familiar feeling of his father holding him.

“I’m so sorry Stiles, I never meant to scare you, I promise I’ll never drink again. I love you so much.”

“It’s okay, I love you too.”

#jj writes #jj events #teen wolf agere #little!stiles #caregiver!noah stilinski #noah stilinski #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski & noah stilinski

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 1 year ago

Text

tuesday again 5/30/2023

all you can see is my hand over the back of the couch as i give a limp wrist flick of acknowledgement and point you toward the post ↓

listening

Smooth Jazz by GUPPY, a selfdescribed comedic punk band that makes secular guitar music with bedroom-pop overtones. said to myself out loud on my walk "this sounds gay" and whaddya know they are.

I’m listening to smooth jazz In the parking lot outside of Joann’s Fabrics & Crafts And I’m feeling like a dumb spazz Because my mind is moving way too fast

i have had this exact experience at multiple joanns. the last bit of the song has been on loop in my head since uhh thursday when i was catching up with my spot/ify weekly recommended list. the tired, slightly ironic last-number-in-the-musical performance is really doing it for me

Jazz, baby! That’s just jazz, baby That’s just jazz That’s just jazz, baby In my brain, baby So give me a lobotomy

reading

raymond chandler's the long goodbye.

this book destroyed me. there is some BREATHTAKING racism even for 1953. it's one of the cruelest things ive ever read. it's a sucking chest wound of a book. i'm going to think about it for the rest of my life.

i'm not able to talk about chandler novels objectively.

i am partially grieving the incredibly fucked up shit that happens to marlowe in this book (i have no fucking clue how you even go on after that, but he does) and partially grieving that this is the last full novel and there aren't any more. i know the unfinished poodle springs was finished after chandler's death but! i do not care.

watching

One-Eyed Jacks (1961, dir. Brando). widely available for free, pluto had the nicest copy but ads that weren't blockable. this is a film where the production is as much of a story as the actual film.

i don't actually know if i enjoyed this film or had a good time watching it. i don't know that i ever need to see it more than once.

it is artistically distinct, and i genuinely mean that as a compliment. it is a rare western-that-doesn’t-have-to-be-a-western, and such a weird artifact of a particular guy's career in a particular time.

surprisingly, this is a pretty okay western to watch if you happen to be a woman. katy jurado and pina pellicier are acting their GODDAMN hearts out. despite itself, the movie paints a very good portrait of a mother-daughter relationship and some goodass parenting. women make mistakes and don't die about it. nobody gets raped!!! the absolute lowest bar a western can possibly have. as a quick sidebar, it's not that i think movies should never address rape, it's that westerns always address it in a way that makes my stomach turn.

it is a slow-burning revenge that mostly takes place on a beach, but it also takes you in great uneven hurtling lurches toward its finale. it wants to have things to say about lies, revenge, and storytelling but cannot help but give itself a certain kind of ending. it can only push so far. it is fascinatingly earnest, horny, and earnest about being horny.

playing

grim fandango remastered (2015, originally 1998) by double fine. the EPIC tale of CRIME and CORRUPTION in the LAND OF THE DEAD!!! critically acclaimed, what we would now call Mexican Gothic i think, but billed itself as a Aztec-inspired noir.

technical details: i am not totally impressed by this remaster bc it still looks pretty fucking janky in parts (things clipping through other things, heavily pixelated stuff despite being on the highest quality settings, etc)

why i bounced off: i did not play video games growing up, and have not played many point-and-click games. despite this i do like walking simulators (the modern successor to point-and-click) and visual novels. i think bc i do not have the point-and-click background and am not playing this through nostalgia-tinted glasses for 1998, four years after i was born, the way the design team of this game expect the general population to solve problems and the way i personally solve problems are severely mismatched. i have spent about ten hours playing this game (in four acts) getting to about halfway through the third act, and i would say about half that time has been looking for/at guides or making up lost progress bc i didn't save. this is a tremendously frustrating way to spend free time.

what i did love: however, it does Look. i ADORE this tile and want it in my home. in a cutscene in this little automat there are not one not two not three but FOUR reflective surfaces. they're not real-time, of course, but i did say "what the FUCK" out loud. it's also hysterically fucking funny! many short sharp barks of laughter! i am greatly amused at how a game about skeletons invented permadeath! both the writing and the voice performances are so fucking top notch. i understand why this is a beloved classic and im glad a remastered edition exists in the world, but i do not anticipate finishing this game bc i don't get a lot of joy out of having to closely follow a guide to progress.

how i found this: it was free on GOG several years ago, i wanted to play something this weekend that was compatible with lying down on the couch and used a maximum of one finger for the controls.

making

i cannot show any of the extremely doxxable embroidery samples that will zhuzh up this cardigan for a work event in mid-june, but i can show how i tacked the buttonband down. this is somewhat indifferent stitch spacing but it stays down and is invisible at a distance from the right side, and that's what matters. gotta de-pill this also but that's a bit boring for a tuesdaypost

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #Bandcamp

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