#jacqueline's tears

[fknjokeman]

listen with me to the most beautiful, soulful, endearing and absolutely sobbing inducer piece of music of all times

[wrongspacetime]

We have the power to make the family we choose. 3.08 “Quality Family Time” | The L Word: Generation Q

[dreamofstarlight]

ORIGINAL CAPTION WASHINGTON: Jackie Visits White House. Mrs. Mamie Eisenhower (Right) shakes hands with Mrs. John F. Kennedy, wife of the President-elect, in the South Grounds after the First Lady took the future First Lady on a tour of the White House today. Mrs. Kennedy went to the White House within two hours after she left Georgetown Hospital with her infant son.

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Oh Baby — Quinn Hughes

Summary: In which you go into labor in another state unsure if your husband will be there to meet your daughter with you

Content Warnings; Labor, Cussing, Needles

Pairing; Husband! Quinn Hughes x Fem Reader

“I’m gonna kill him! Jack, I swear to god I’m gonna kill your brother!” Jack rubbed your back reassuringly, “I know honey. But you can wait to kill him until after my perfect niece is here, right?” You gripped the sleeve of your brother in law’s t-shirt, “If you don’t stop talking Jack, I’ll you first!” A plethora of pain coursed through your body as another contraction ripped through you. Jack gritted his teeth as you clawed his hand.

Jack had always been the one of your two brothers in law that you were closer to, majority of that being the closeness in your ages comparatively to you and Luke. You were 3 years older than Jack and 5 years older than Luke. So you and Jack were closer friends. So when your water broke as you were meeting a realtor for a potential new location for your chain of restaurants, you called Jack knowing he was less than 3 hours away in Washington while Quinn was on his way back from Boston. You had checked into the hospital and gotten situated by the time Jack got to the hospital.

He rushed in holding your hospital bag for the baby, a bag for yourself and another bag of stuff for Quinn. He had called Quinn and reassured his older brother that you were okay, although Quinn could hear you cussing at your ob as she gave you an epidural block. Quinn assured his younger brother that he would be back in time to meet his daughter with you. As time progressed you began to lose hope.

You were in hysterics as you were finally pushing, “Jack I’m scared. What if I’m not cut out to be a mom? I mean I’m only 25 and we just got married. I’m scared that me and Quinn won’t work out.” Jack held your hand somehow tighter, “You are the most amazing person I know, you always know what to say Y/N, you are going to be a perfect mom. And you and Quinn are like a damn rom-com movie. You will be okay, the minute you see your baby girl you will know.” You sobbed as you forced another push, “Thank you.”

The door opened and Quinn rushed in, “I’m here! I may have a ticket but I’m here.” You looked up at your husband, “You made it.” Quinn pressed a soft kiss against your lips, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Your OBGYN smiled, “Hey Mr Hughes, you made it just in time. Give me one more push and you’ll have your perfect girl.” You clutched Quinn’s hand, unaware of Jack who had taken out a digital camcorder and had started to record you and Quinn’s faces as you let out a groan and clutched Quinn’s hand as you pushed.

You collapsed back when you heard it, your newborn daughter’s cries. You felt your heart clench as the OBGYN spoke, “So dad, do you wanna do the honors?” Quinn’s eyes welled with happy tears as he nodded, “Your damn right I do.” Quinn took the scissors and cut the umbilical cord. With the doctors okay, Quinn held your daughter oh so carefully and placed her on your chest. You reached your finger out and your heart shattered and somehow felt more filled as your daughter’s tiny hand wrapped around your finger, “She’s perfect. Look at her Quinn. That’s all us.”

Quinn melted into you, “She might be the girl I love most in the world now.” Jack smiled with teary eyes, “So what’s my new best friends name?” You smiled at your daughter, “Lorelei Jacqueline Hughes. After my mom and my girls alleged best uncle.” Jack grinned at his newborn niece, “Rory Jackie Hughes. You are so perfect, and you lucked out in the parent department. You have the best mommy ever. Your daddy is alright.”

You smiled weakly at your husband, “I have never loved two people this much. This is the best and most fulfilling experience of my life. I love you Quinn Hughes, with all I am.” Quinn kissed you softly, “I love you too Y/N Hughes, will everything in my heart.”

[campgender]

Jacqueline looked confused. Then she laughed till tears streamed down her cheeks. “Honey,” she’d start, but she was laughing too hard to continue. “Honey. You can’t learn to fuck from reading Popular Mechanics. That isn’t what makes a butch a good lover.”

This was exactly what I needed to know! “Well, what does make a butch a good lover?” I asked, trying to sound like the answer didn’t mean all that much to me.

Her face softened. “That’s kinda hard to explain. I guess being a good lover means respecting a femme. It means listening to her body. And even if the sex gets a little rough, or whatever, that it’s what she wants too, and inside you’re still coming from a gentle place. Does that make sense?”

It did not. It was less information than I wanted. It turned out, however, to be the information I needed. It just took thinking about it for the rest of my life.

Jacqueline took the rubber cock from my hands. Had I been holding it all this time? She placed it carefully on my thigh. My body temperature rose. She began to touch it gently, like it was something really beautiful.

“You know, you could make a woman feel real good with this thing. Maybe better than she ever felt in her life.” She stopped stroking the dildo. “Or you could really hurt her, and remind her of all the ways she’s ever been hurt in her life. You got to think about that every time you strap this on. Then you’ll be a good lover.”

I waited, hoping there was more. There was not. Jackie got up and puttered around the kitchen. I went to bed. I tried to memorize every word that had been said to me before I fell asleep.

Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg (pg 28-29)

[cerenemuxse]

Human!2x5 getting married HCs

very long.

for age reference, Edward's in his early 40s while James is in his mid-30s (8yr age difference). takes place in future modern day (2030s)

for the ceremony, they wear suits. Edward's is cream white with cerulean and navy accents. James' is like a VERY dark, almost black, navy with red and pink accents.

its a small (as they could get it to be) outdoor spring wedding.

They have matrons of honor AND best person. Edward's maid of Honor is Emily and his best men is BoCo and Duck. James' maid of Honor is Jasmine and he has two best men, Donald and Douglas.

Edward's party consists of all his sisters. that's it lul

James' party consists of Gordon, Henry, and Rosie. it's pretty small lul

ok so- they both walk down the aisles. its a different layout. one walks in from one side while the other walks in from the other, meeting at the center

originally, Edward was a little embarrassed by the idea, but he arrives at his aisle on Callum, his (2nd) Clydesdale horse. It was James' idea. That's why its outdoors HEHE

"what's their wedding so-" THIS

(piano for James and violin for Edward)

Edward cut off contact with his parents after they kicked him out so his twin sisters are the ones walking him down the isle.

Doesn't really have a dad (Emily's parents divorced shortly after he was adopted) so Mama Sterling walks him down the aisle, along with Jasmine <33

THE RING BEARERS ARE JACQUELINE AND THOMAS WITH THE (SOON TO BE) FAMILY CAT, SOPHIE 💥

For the wedding reception, they basically swap color schemes, wearing each other's colors ✨ they wear weddings veils covered in flowers designated (so Ed's are for himself and the same goes for James), but both have white roses. (i wanna design these and their ceremony suits someday 👉👈)

Both floral schemes share daisies (loyal love).

Edward's floral scheme is chamomile (patience) and delphinium (big-heartedness + ardent attachment).

James' floral scheme is amaryllis (splendid beauty, pride, worth beyond beauty) and gladiolus (strength of character, faithfulness, and honor).

newlyweds' first dance was this. a fast paced dance to get them going for the night 💃💃 this was one where others were allowed to join in.

The playlist is a mix of 1970s-2000s and jazz. The jazz was for some of the elderly folk (and James, my beloved jazz enjoyer).

slow dances were occasionally thrown in so they could rest. Edward's leg injury from years ago got the best of him in recent years so now he has a cane. helpful when his injury starts to tire him out. speaking of which, it was decorated for the occasion, covered in vines (made of wire) and fake flowers

since the parent situation is mixed with both of them, its more like a group dance. Edward dances with his sisters while James dances with his family, adopted and bio. (Emily, Mama Sterling, Donald, Douglas, and Jasmine.) the more elegant of all the dances that night

then comes in the "father-child" dances. (try not to cry challenge: impossible)

it was chaotic. they were playing something from like the 1990s to 2000s. probably fucking Backstreet Boys or something, idk but that's the idea.

father-child(ren) dance took them out for a bit. they were also wearing heels. low heels but still enough.

both kept laughing as they tried to feed each other cake so they smudge some of it on each other.

the photographs are like those photos in dark places and the only lighting you get is from the camera's flash. it was all Polaroids, btw. James and Edward would later scrapbook them <3

the speechs were held for the end as that's when the energy is low and there would be less interruptions, considering who was present (a bunch of loud teens LMAO)

everyone cried and laughed at least once.

donald and douglas was pretty cheesy. teased James for a bit but ended it with a loving note about how happy they are their little adopted brother. Had james in tears.

Jasmine followed right after. she was happy to have been able to reconnect with her younger brother after decades of being separated

Jacqueline's really was the kicker for him though. (TLDR: these two have been attached ever since James adopted her after watching her during a foster care program. she was around 7 when adopted, an age that most people would avoid when adopting.)

Henry and Gordon's was similar (context: they met in HS at music competitions. Henry is Gordon's half-brother, attending the same school. James attended their rival school and the rest is history). Teased him but ended on an unusual heartfelt note.

Edward did not escape the flood of tears. His adopted kids, Thomas, Percy, and Nia, did their speech together, followed by his sisters, BoCo, and Duck. was a crying mess (in a good way) from the start.

Emily ends the speeches by telling how they all met, and the "everyone but you two knew that you crushed on each other" story of those two from her perspective. had everyone laughing, including those two.

James was the one to throw the bouquet but like tradition, both he and Edward didn't look over to who it was. he might've accidentally smacked Gordon with it, who was dating Rebecca at the time. BOY did James and Edward have a field day over that HAHA-!

once its over, they clean up and go home, both of them taking Callum back to McColls (that's where Callum is homed since Ed and Jim live in apartments. planning to move out into a house in Wellsworth tho). they planned their honeymoon to be a few days later so they could rest from the thrilling but exhausting day they had. they emotionally (/pos) and physically tuckered out from the event haha-

knocked the fuck out once they got home, crashing onto the sofa.

and now they're husbands <33

[deadpresidents]

Waking Up In Dallas: November 22, 1963.

Two American Presidents woke up in Dallas, Texas, on November 22, 1963. Neither of them were the two men who actually served as President on that tragic day -- John F. Kennedy or Lyndon B. Johnson.

The 37th President of the United States, 50-year-old Richard Nixon, had arrived in Dallas on November 20th for a conference of the American Bottlers of Carbonated Beverages on behalf of Pepsi-Cola, a company that his New York law firm was representing.  On November 21st, Nixon sat down with reporters in his room at the Baker Hotel, where he criticized many of the policies of President Kennedy, his 1960 opponent, who would be arriving in Dallas the next day.  That night, Nixon and Pepsi executives including actress Joan Crawford, who had been married to Pepsi's chairman, Alfred Steele, until his death in 1959, were entertained at the Statler Hilton.

In the early morning of November 22nd, a car dropped Nixon off, alone, at Love Field, the Dallas airport that would host President and Mrs. Kennedy, Vice President Johnson and Mrs. Johnson, and Texas Governor John Connally and his wife in just a few hours.  Nixon later remembered the flags and signs displayed along the motorcade route that Kennedy would soon follow.  Nixon approached the American Airlines ticket counter to check-in for his flight to New York City and told the attendant, "It looks like you're going to have a big day today."

Nixon landed several hours later in New York at an airport that would be renamed after John F. Kennedy a month later.  He described what happened next in his 1978 autobiography, RN: The Memoirs of Richard Nixon:

Arriving in New York, I hailed a cab home.  We drove through Queens toward the 59th Street Bridge, and as we stopped at a traffic light, a man rushed over from the curb and started talking to the driver.  I heard him say, "Do you have a radio in your cab?  I just heard that Kennedy was shot."  We had no radio, and as we continued into Manhattan a hundred thoughts rushed through my mind.  The man could have been crazy or a macabre prankster.  He could have been mistaken about what he had heard; or perhaps a gunman might have shot at Kennedy but missed or only wounded him.  I refused to believe that he could have been killed. As the cab drew up in front of my building, the doorman ran out.  Tears were streaming down his cheeks.  "Oh, Mr. Nixon, have you heard, sir?" he asked.  "It's just terrible.  They've killed President Kennedy."

The close 1960 Presidential election changed the relationship between Richard Nixon and John F. Kennedy, but they had once been very close.  When they first entered Congress together in 1947, they considered each other personal friends, and when Nixon ran for the Senate from California in 1950, JFK stopped into Nixon's office and dropped off a financial contribution to Nixon's campaign from Kennedy's father.  Nixon would later write that he felt as bad on the night of Kennedy's assassination as he had when he lost two brothers to tuberculosis when he was very young.  That night, he wrote an emotional letter to Jacqueline Kennedy:

Dear Jackie, In this tragic hour Pat and I want you to know that our thoughts and prayers are with you. While the hand of fate made Jack and me political opponents I always cherished the fact that we were personal friends from the time we came to the Congress together in 1947.  That friendship evidenced itself in many ways including the invitation we received to attend your wedding. Nothing I could say now could add to the splendid tributes which have come from throughout the world to him. But I want you to know that the nation will also be forever grateful for your service as First Lady.  You brought to the White House charm, beauty and elegance as the official hostess of America, and the mystique of the young in heart which was uniquely yours made an indelible impression on the American consciousness. If in the days ahead we could be helpful in any way we shall be honored to be at your command. Sincerely, Dick Nixon 

••• On the morning of November 22, 1963, the 41st President of the United States also woke up in Dallas, Texas.  George Herbert Walker Bush was the 39-year-old president of the Zapata Off-Shore Drilling Company and chairman of the Harris County, Texas Republican Party, and had stayed the night of November 21st at the Dallas Sheraton alongside his wife, Barbara.  Bush was planning a bid for the U.S. Senate in 1964 and making the rounds to line up support amongst many Texans who considered him far too moderate.  One of the groups that was strongest in opposition to Bush was the ultra-right wing John Birch Society, which had recently been lodging vehement protests against President Kennedy's upcoming visit to Dallas.

Conspiracy theorists claim that there were far more sinister motives for George Bush being in Dallas on November 22, 1963.  Some claim that Bush was a secret CIA operative involved in planning or even carrying out the assassination of President Kennedy.  Some even argue that a grainy photograph of a man resembling Bush taken shortly after the assassination proves that Bush was actually in Dealey Plaza at the time of Kennedy's shooting.

He wasn't.  He wasn't even in Dallas.  We know where George Herbert Walker Bush was at the time of JFK's assassination -- we have plenty of eyewitnesses who can confirm it.  While Lee Harvey Oswald was shooting President Kennedy, George Bush was about 100 miles away from Dallas, in Tyler, Texas, speaking at a Kiwanis Club luncheon.  Like Nixon, Bush and his wife, Barbara, had also boarded a plane that morning in Dallas -- a private plane that transported them to Tyler for the Kiwanis Club event.  While Bush was speaking, word of the President's assassination reached the luncheon and the local club president, Wendell Cherry, leaned over and gave the news to Bush.  Bush quickly notified the crowd, and said, "In view of the President's death, I consider it inappropriate to continue with a political speech at this time."  He ended his speech and sat down while the luncheon broke up in stunned silence. 

Bush's wife, Barbara, wasn't at the Kiwanis Club luncheon.  While her husband was speaking, Barbara Bush went to a beauty parlor in Tyler to get her hair styled.  As her hair was being done, Barbara began writing a letter to family and heard the news over the radio that JFK had been shot and then that the President had died.  In her 1994 memoir, Barbara included the letter, part of which said:

I am writing this at the Beauty Parlor, and the radio says that the President has been shot.  Oh Texas -- my Texas -- my God -- let's hope it's not true.  I am sick at heart as we all are.  Yes, the story is true and the Governor also.  How hateful some people are. Since, the beauty parlor, the President has died.  We are once again on a plane.  This time a commercial plane.  Poppy (George H.W. Bush's family nickname) picked me up at the beauty parlor -- we went right to the airport, flew to Ft. Worth and dropped Mr. Zeppo off (we were on his plane) and flew back to Dallas.  We had to circle the field while the second Presidential plane took off.  Immediately, Pop got tickets back to Houston, and here we are flying home.  We are sick at heart.  The tales the radio reporters tell of Jackie Kennedy are the bravest.  We are hoping that it is not some far-right nut, but a "commie" nut.  You understand that we know they are both nuts, but just hope that it is not a Texan and not an American at all. I am amazed by the rapid-fire thinking and planning that has already been done.  LBJ has been the President for some time now -- two hours at least and it is only 4:30. My dearest love to you all, Bar

As Barbara Bush noted in her letter, the Bushes did not stay another night at the Dallas Sheraton on November 22nd, as they had originally planned.  They returned to Dallas on the private jet that had transported them to Tyler earlier in the day, and caught a commercial flight home to Houston.  The "second Presidential plane" that took off while Bush's plane circled Love Field was the plane that had transported Vice President Lyndon B. Johnson to Dallas earlier that day, Air Force Two.  Johnson was already heading back to Washington, now on Air Force One, with the casket of John F. Kennedy.

••• The 37th President of the United States and the 41st President of the United States woke up in Dallas, Texas on the morning of November 22, 1963.  The 31st President, 89-year-old Herbert Hoover, was in failing health in the elegant suite he called home at New York's Waldorf-Astoria.  Within the next few weeks, he would be visited by the new President, Lyndon Johnson, and President Kennedy's grieving widow, Jackie, and the President's brother, Attorney General Bobby Kennedy.  The 33rd President, 79-year-old Harry Truman, learned of JFK's death in Missouri, while the 34th President, 73-year-old Dwight D. Eisenhower, heard of the assassination while attending a meeting at the United Nations in New York.  Truman and Eisenhower would squash a long, bitter personal feud that weekend while attending Kennedy's funeral in Washington.  The 38th President, 50-year-old Michigan Congressman Gerald Ford, was driving home with his wife Betty after attending a parent conference with their son Jack's teacher when they heard the news on the radio in their car.  Two days later, President Johnson would call on Ford to serve on the Warren Commission investigating the assassination.  

The 39th President, Jimmy Carter was 39 years old and had just gotten off a tractor near the warehouse of his Plains, Georgia peanut farm when a group of farmers informed him of the news of the shooting.  Carter found a quiet area, kneeled down in prayer, and when he heard that Kennedy had died, cried for the first time since his father had died ten years earlier.  Ronald Reagan, the 40th President, was 52 years old and preparing for a run as Governor of California.  A little more than 17 years later, the now-President Reagan would also be shot by a lone gunman in the middle of the day.  While Reagan would survive the attempt on his life, it was very nearly fatal and reminded his wife, Nancy, of November 22, 1963.  As she was transported to George Washington Hospital following Reagan's shooting, Nancy would later note, "As my mind raced, I flashed to scenes of Parkland Memorial Hospital in Texas, and the day President Kennedy was shot.  I had been driving down San Vicente Boulevard in Los Angeles when a bulletin came over the car radio.  Now, more than seventeen years later, I prayed that history would not be repeated, that Washington would not become another Dallas.  That my husband would live."

The 41st President, Bill Clinton, and the 43rd President, George W. Bush, were both 17 years old and in school -- Bush at the Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts, and Clinton at Hot Springs High School in Hot Springs, Arkansas.  Clinton was in his fourth period calculus class when his teacher was called out of the room and returned to announce that President Kennedy had been killed.  Four months earlier, Clinton had traveled to Washington with the Boys Nation program and, during a ceremony in the Rose Garden of the White House, pushed his way to the front of the line and shook President Kennedy's hand.  The 44th President, Barack Obama, was a 2-year-old living in Hawaii.

••• The 35th President, 46-year-old John F. Kennedy, would die in Dallas on November 22, 1963.  Lyndon B. Johnson, 55, would become the 36th President in Dallas that day.  But they woke up that morning in Fort Worth at the Texas Hotel.  Kennedy had slept the last night of his life in suite 850 on the eighth floor, now the Presidential suite.  LBJ had slept the last night of his Vice Presidency in the much more expensive and elegant Will Rogers Suite on the thirteenth floor.  The Secret Service had vetoed the Will Rogers Suite for the President because it was more difficult to secure.  It was raining in Fort Worth as they woke up, but the skies had cleared by the time they landed in Dallas.  Before breakfast, President Kennedy, Vice President Johnson, and Texas Governor John Connally headed outside and briefly addressed a crowd that had gathered long before the sun had come up in hopes of seeing JFK.  Jacqueline Kennedy didn't accompany them outside and President Kennedy joked to the crowd, "Mrs. Kennedy is organizing herself.  It takes her a little longer but, of course, she looks better than we do when she does it."

Afterward, they headed inside for breakfast in the Texas Hotel's Grand Ballroom with several hundred guests.  The President sent for Mrs. Kennedy to join them, and her late arrival to the breakfast excited the guests in the ballroom.  When the President spoke to the group, he joked again, "Two years ago I introduced myself in Paris as the man who had accompanied Mrs. Kennedy to Paris.  I'm getting somewhat that same sensation as I travel around Texas."  Then he noted, "Nobody wonders what Lyndon and I wear."

When the breakfast ended, the Kennedys headed upstairs and had an hour or so to wait before heading to the airport for the short flight to Dallas.  It was during this time that Jackie Kennedy saw a hateful ad placed in that morning's Dallas Morning News accusing President Kennedy of collusion with Communists and treasnous activity.  Trying to calm Jackie down, the President joked, "Oh, we're heading into nut country today."  But a few minutes later, Jackie overheard Kennedy telling his aide, Ken O'Donnell, "It would not be a very difficult job to shoot the President of the United States.  All you'd have to do is get up in a high building with a high-powered rifle with a telescopic sight, and there's nothing anybody can do."

••• Even though the trip from Fort Worth's Carswell Air Force Base to Dallas's Love Field would only take thirteen minutes by air, the trip to Texas was first-and-foremost a political trip -- a kickoff of sorts to JFK's 1964 re-election campaign -- and a grand entrance was needed.  So, JFK and Jackie boarded the plane usually used as Air Force One, LBJ and Lady Bird Johnson boarded the plane usually used by the Vice President, Air Force Two, and the huge Presidential party took to the skies, covering thirty miles in thirteen minutes, in order to get the big Dallas welcome that they were hoping for.  They landed in Dallas at 11:40 AM, and President Kennedy looked out the window of his plane, saw a big, happy crowd, and told Ken O'Donnell, "This trip is turning out to be terrific.  Here we are in Dallas, and it looks like everything in Texas is going to be fine for us."

At 2:47 PM -- just three hours and seven minutes later -- everyone was back on Air Force One as the plane climbed off of the Love Field runway and into the Dallas sky.  John F. Kennedy, the 35th President, was in a casket wedged into a space in the rear of Air Force One where two rows of seats had been removed so that it would be fit.  Lyndon B. Johnson had officially been sworn in as the 36th President about ten minutes earlier on the plane by federal judge Sarah T. Hughes.  On one side of Johnson while he took the oath was his wife, Lady Bird, and on the other side, the widowed former First Lady, Jackie Kennedy, still wearing a pink dress splattered with her husband's blood and brain matter.

Two American Presidents woke up in Dallas on November 22, 1963 -- Richard Nixon and George H.W. Bush -- but they weren't in town when John F. Kennedy was assassinated, no matter how many ways conspiracy theorists try to twist the story.  The President who died in Dallas that day, John F. Kennedy, and the man who became President in Dallas that day, Lyndon B. Johnson, woke up in Fort Worth on the morning of November 22, 1963.  But they'll be forever linked with Dallas -- and the world that woke up the next morning would never be the same again.    

[filmnoirfoundation]

AND THE WINNER IS...

Here are the winners of the FNF's NOIR CITY Magazine #41 donation drive held August 29 - September 5, 2024:

Existing donors

★ Winner of the Criterion DVD of The Asphalt Jungle (1950): Larry Long, Hammond, IN. Winner of the Criterion Blu-ray release of Bound (1996): Lloyd Stires, Pittsburgh, PA. Winner of the Flicker Alley release of the FNF restoration Too Late for Tears (1949): Deanna Trainham, Fairfax, VA

★ Winner of the Criterion Blu-ray release of Thelma & Louise (1991) starring Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis, illustrator Graham Chaffee’s To Have and To Hold, and the NOIR CITY Experience book about the first twenty years of the NOIR CITY film festival: Andrew Hawkins, Wilmington, DE

★ Winner of the new release of Kino Lorber’s Film Noir: The Dark Side of Cinema XVII with Edward G. Robinson films Vice Squad (1953), Black Tuesday (1954), and Nightmare (1956); the Flicker Alley Blu-ray/DVD release of the FNF’s latest restoration No abras nunca esa puerta (1952 - Argentina); and a copy of Eddie Muller’s The Distance. Ruth Adar, San Leandro, CA

★ Winner of the Gloria Grahame trio: Human Desire (Kino Blu-ray Special Edition), Odds Against Tomorrow (Kino Blu-ray Special Edition), and In a Lonely Place (Criterion DVD); the Flicker Alley Blu-ray/DVD release of the FNF’s restoration El vampiro negro (1953 - Argentina); the about-to-be-published NOIR CITY Annual 16 (releasing September 2024); and the NOIR CITY Experience book – 20 years of the NOIR CITY film festival: Douglas Cablk, Oak Park, IL

★ EXTRA - Donors to receive the NOIR CITY Experience book Karen Meacham, Victoria, TX; Nicolas Consales, Fanwood, NJ; Michael Goswell, Pittsburgh, PA; Daniel Ferko, Lexington Park, MD; and Roberto Maragoni, San Jose, CA

New donors

★ The five new-subscriber winners of the five NOIR CITY Magazine back issues --   #16, #25, #28, #33, #38  -- are: Geoffrey Bickford, Freedom, NH; Jacqueline Davis, Akron, OH; Tommy Jansson, Sweden; Anthony Towle, New York, NY; and Anthony Martinez, Los Angeles, CA

★ The three new-subscriber winners of Flicker Alley Blu-ray/DVD releases of two FNF restorations -- Too Late for Tears (1949) with Lizabeth Scott and Dan Duryea and The Man Who Cheated Himself with Lee J. Cobb, Jane Wyatt, and John Dall: William Ardis, Frisco, TX; Doyle Bartlett, Ada, OK; and Danielle Johnson, Scottville, MI

Thank you to everyone who contributed to the Film Noir Foundation! A reminder that anyone who contributes $20 or more to the FNF and signs up our mailing list always receives a free year's subscription to NOIR CITY e-magazine. Contributors may receive additional FNF thank you gifts depending on the amount of the donation.

[witchyleehibernates-fics]

To Live (Or Not at All)

Summary:

“Don’t worry, Papa’ll move the offending light out of the room Jackie.” Remy murmured as he walked over to his phone and picked it up. 6 missed calls from Logan, and 3 from the same unknown number. His guess was that Logan had tried to call from his husband's phone. There was a pang of guilt as he saw a text message come in. You don’t answer my next to calls and I will drive my ass out there Gumbo. “Damn feral.” Remy muttered, walking to the other side of the bed as his phone started ringing once more. He tucked Vinny in with Jacqueline, who was pouting at him. “Get some sleep, Jackie. You too, Vinny. Papa’s going to step out of the room.” He was only so thankful that his kids didn’t need him in the room to sleep anymore. He stepped out of the room, waiting for the second call to come in, and when it did, he answered.

Content Warning's/Trigger Warnings: Stressed Characters, Sleep Deprivation, Slight Mentions of Stalking, Breakdowns, Single Father Remy LeBeau, Fantasy AU

(If I think of others, it will be added here or in a reblog when/as I update about chapters)

Characters: Remy LeBeau (Gambit), Logan Howlett (Wolverine), Kevin Sydeny (Morph), Original Children Characters

Chapters: 3/?

Words: 5,377

Status: In Progress

Fanfic Links:

|| Ao3 || Fanfiction Net ||

......... ......... ......... ......... ......... ......... ......... ......... .........

Remy was fighting back tears as he dialed Logan’s number, praying that Logan was out for a smoke or something and not sleeping, because he would absolutely hate to wake up the feral or the morphling that he married. His breathing was slightly shaky and he could feel that Jacqueline or Vinny was close to waking up again. He bowed his head, resting it on his knees which were pulled up to his chest, as the phone rang.

“S’il vous plaît.” Remy quietly pleaded with the ringing call, his voice breaking just a little. “Logan, please answer…” He murmured, ears straining just in case one of his kids started to cry. He was a newly single father, and he knew taking his kids away from the farm was going to cause issues. He wished he’d known what kind of issues before he moved them, however, because he wouldn’t have moved them then.

“Cajun you better have a good reason for calling me.” Logan answered the phone, a quiet growl in his voice. Normally Remy would tease him for sounding so much like his animal instincts, but he also knew that Logan and Kevin recently adopted a little girl who was traumatized from her previous home.

“Thank fuck.” Remy cringed a little at just how desperate he sounded, but Remy was desperate. He just hated sounding desperate. “I-” He could hear crying in the background and felt terrible. “Sorry. Nevermind. I… calling was a mistake.” He moved and hung up the phone.

Remy wasn’t the Prince Thief of New Orleans anymore. He was a single father to two half faerie quarter demon quarter human children in the middle of a city that he knew nothing about. Calling Logan wasn’t something he could do anymore. Logan had his life, pretty figured out too by the sounds of things, and Remy would need to join the game at some point.

He was struggling at his job, not having worked an actual job that he needed to keep semi permanently. His daughter was in dance classes that he had to get her to at 3 in the afternoon everyday, and daycare wouldn’t take her for the first half of the day, and Vinny was too young to go. He had to figure out how to enroll his daughter in school, because she would be starting kindergarten this fall.

Remy buried his face in his arms as he began to cry. His phone dropped to the ground beside him as he tried to take a stable breath. He was trying to keep his sobs down, still needing to listen for his kids just in case they needed him, but he still had somehow missed Jacqueline knocking on his door.

“Papa?” He lifted his head, eyes locking with Jacqueline’s. Bright red eyes were glowing in the dark, confusion on her face as she leaned against the doorway with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“Jackie, princesse, what are you doing awake?” He pushed himself up, walking to the door and picking her up when she silently asked. “Did you have another nightmare?” He asked quietly, to which Jacqueline nodded against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, princesse,” He murmured as he rubbed her back.

“Yous non s’eeping?” Jacqueline murmured as Remy began to gently rock her. He began to pace the room too, ignoring his phone, which was lit up with an incoming call from Logan. Remy felt a little guilty about calling Logan in the first place, knowing that he woke up the feral and it was possible that Logan’s growl woke up his daughter. Remy felt guilty about that.

“No, Papa’s not sleeping right now. He’s taking care of his Petit Prince et Petite Princesse.” Remy murmured. He needed to clean his room when Jacqueline was at dance and Vinny was down for a nap. The only reason he wasn’t tripping over his own clothes was from years of training as a thief.

“Jackie s’eep in Papa’s ‘oom?” Jacqueline asked, her head moving as if she was looking up at him. He glanced towards his bed, which was still made from the day before, he’d had yet to even sit down on it.

“Oui, Jackie can do that.” Remy nodded. “Wand Vinny in here too?” Maybe he could get some cleaning done if his kids were sleeping in his room. He’d have to pick up his clothes first, he decided as his eyes scanned over his room.

“Oui,” Jacqueline nodded.

“Okay, let’s get you laid down in bed, and then Papa will go get Vinny.” Remy murmured, moving to one side of the bed, and pulling back the blanket. He had almost thought that he’d be able to get Jacqueline and Vinny to sleep in their own rooms for a night, seeing as it was nearly three in the morning. But alas, his kids needed the comfort of his scent and no windows letting in tons of light from outside.

He laid Jacqueline down and smiled when she turned and hid in the pillow, a small laugh escaping him as he ruffled her hair. He still felt like crying, but his children came first and whatever breakdown Remy was going to go through could wait for all he cared.

He tucked Jacqueline in, kissing her temple, and then moved to leave the room. Humming lightly as he moved to Vinny’s room, finding him awake and sitting up in his crib with his hands holding the crib bars and seemingly waiting patiently.

Remy wished he could ask whoever had him as a baby if this was normal. Because neither of his children should be able to predict his movements and actions as young as nine months old. His humming stopped as a breath of laughter escaped him. He walked over and picked the infant up. He’d changed Vinny’s diaper almost an hour ago, so he knew he didn’t need to change him just yet.

“Let’s lay you down with Jackie, huh?” He asked as he made sure Vinny had his pacifier and reached down to grab Vinny’s favorite blanket. He wrapped the blanket around Vinny carefully as he walked back towards his room, finding Jacqueline made a face towards the area where Remy’s phone was still vibrating.

“Don’t worry, Papa’ll move the offending light out of the room Jackie.” Remy murmured as he walked over to his phone and picked it up. 6 missed calls from Logan, and 3 from the same unknown number. His guess was that Logan had tried to call from his husband's phone. There was a pang of guilt as he saw a text message come in.

You don’t answer my next to calls and I will drive my ass out there Gumbo.

“Damn feral.” Remy muttered, walking to the other side of the bed as his phone started ringing once more. He tucked Vinny in with Jacqueline, who was pouting at him. “Get some sleep, Jackie. You too, Vinny. Papa’s going to step out of the room.” He was only so thankful that his kids didn’t need him in the room to sleep anymore.

He stepped out of the room, waiting for the second call to come in, and when it did, he answered.

“Was tryin’ to let you sleep again.” Remy told him, moving towards Jacqueline’s room to make sure all the windows were locked. Sometimes the kids' nightmares were caused by feeling unsafe, even subconsciously. Her window was locked.

“Or having a breakdown, cajun.” Logan’s voice responded. He had a faint rumble to his voice, and he wanted to curse the other out. Either he was also holding his adoptive daughter, who Remy still didn’t know the name of, or he knew Remy was actually on the verge of the breakdown he mentioned. Remy found Vinny’s window unlocked, so he locked it after making sure it was shut fully.

“Jackie had a nightmare and I was laying the two down in my room.” Remy told him. He knew he sounded petulant at best, but he had a right to sulk, at least a little bit. Right? “Just go back to bed if your daughter isn’t awake, mon ami.” He checked the guest room, also locked.

“No. You called and sounded like you were breaking down. So now, you are going to talk to me.” Logan told him, and dammit, Remy hated that rumbling thing that Logan could do. It made him spill everything every time. He felt safe enough to actually talk to Logan about whatever was bothering him. He glared at the ground as he checked his own room, though he vaguely remembered locking it around eight. It was locked.

“Haven’t slept much this past week. Kids are having nightmares every half an hour, job is a hassle because I don’t trust no one enough to watch the kids, and Jacqueline’s too old for daycare, and I don’t know how to enroll her in school, and Vinny’s too young for daycare.” The words just began to tumble from Remy as he fell back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling as he felt the tears beginning to build up.

“She told me this would happen, Lo.” Remy’s voice was near silent. “I can’t take care of my kids without her, but she-”

“No.” There was more of a threatening growl that escaped Logan then before it settled back into that gentle rumbling. “No. You don’t need her. The kids don’t need her. You know a lot about halfling kids, Gambit. Think.”

“Don’t call me that.” Remy gasped, feeling like he’d been punched in the chest. He hadn’t been called that name in a long, long time. It brought back too much of who he used to be, as a teen and a bit of who he was as a young adult.

“It’s one of your names.” Logan reminded him. “Prince Gambit of the Thieves Guild, Heir of the Underground of New Orleans.” His tone held no room for argument, but Remy still tried. There was a whine that escaped him as the tears started to fall. “It’s who you are.”

“No… No, that’s not me anymore Logan.” Remy shook his head, even if Logan couldn’t see him. They’d been friends long enough to know how the other would react in many different situations. “I’m just Remy, single father to two half fae children and they are suffering because of me.”

“Gamb-Remy, I’ll be down tomorrow afternoon. Kevin and Charlie are coming with. You need help, desperately.” Logan sighed, and Remy felt himself flinch.

“Remy don’t need help, Logan.” Remy told him sullenly. “I’m not… Remy’s not useless at this.”

“I never said you were, Gumbo. But you’re exhausted and beginning to trip over your words.” Remy closed his eyes as a sob began to build in his throat. That damn rumbling, something that Remy would call a purr but not quite, was making it hard to get a grip on his emotions. He had better control of himself than this, but Logan was reminding him that he didn’t.

“But you implied it.” Remy whispered.

“Cajun, you called me at three in the morning, crying, and sounding more desperate than a child after a nightmare.” Logan told him. “More desperate than when you told me you needed an out of your relationship, while also protecting your kids.” Remy flinched, almost feeling like he’d been hit. He’d realized how desperate he’d sounded, and he knew that Jacqueline had seen it too.

Damn, how much of his breakdown did Jacqueline see?

“Don’t go all silent now, not after how many times I told you to shut up in the past and you wouldn’t.” Remy could hear Logan light a cigar or something, all he knew is he could hear that light flip, and he closed his eyes.

“I’m so tired, Logan…” Remy muttered, his eyes fluttering. He was exhausted, he knew he was, and he bet Logan could hear it too.

“Get some sleep, Gumbo, Kev and I will be there around three at the latest.” Remy made a noise, probably of agreement, and the call dropped. His phone dropped to the ground as he ended up falling asleep on the couch.

He’d wake up to Jacqueline shaking his arm, tired and wanting pancakes for breakfast, and his phone nearly dead with three texts from Logan reminding him that he was coming down that afternoon. Good thing on Logan texting him, because Remy certainly didn’t remember anything that happened the night before.

[einsteinsugly]

Jacqueline "Jackie" Burkhart's/Hyde's Modern Playlist.

Bed Chem (Sabrina Carpenter)

Blank Space (Taylor Swift)

Cold Heart (Elton John, Dua Lipa)

Cruel Summer (Taylor Swift)

Feather (Sabrina Carpenter)

Good 4 U (Olivia Rodrigo)

Hold Me Closer (Elton John, Britney Spears)

Into You (Ariana Grande)

Kings and Queens (Ava Max)

Late Night Talking (Harry Styles)

Love Again (Dua Lipa)

Love Me Like You Do (Ellie Goulding)

Me! (Taylor Swift, Brendon Urie)

No Tears Left To Cry (Ariana Grande)

Oh My God (Adele)

Paper Rings (Taylor Swift)

Please, Please, Please (Sabrina Carpenter)

Thank U, Next (Ariana Grande)

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together (Taylor Swift)

We Can't Be Friends (Ariana Grande)

@nikkiruncks, here ya go. :)

[seraphiism]

𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬

( if the road is long, it doesn't matter what you weigh-- i will carry you. )

chara : neuvillette fandom : genshin impact quote cr : jacqueline woodson a/n : okay i read abt him for a few minutes so let's hope this is in character (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

one : & THE WEIGHT OF JUSTICE IS A HEAVINESS IN ENDEAVORS, THE SCALES MEANT TO BE TIPPED IN FAVOR OF GOOD IN A WAR WAGED AGAINST EVILS. BUT EVEN IN ONE WITH A SEEMINGLY COLD HEART, THERE IS BURDEN ETCHED IN THE TRACES OF BLUE / OF OCEAN WAVES / OF DIVINITY, AND WHEN THE RAIN POURS, THE WORLD WILL KNOW OF A SORROW UNKNOWN & UNTOLD.

the rain represents many a thing : a hinting of hope, a dreadfulness meant to be endured before the sun rises once more, the coming of bloom in petals unfurled / a possible despair, a grieving in madness, an anguish profound.

there is a sentiment in every droplet that falls and falls, and when you look to the sky, feel the water trail down your face in the gentlest of touches, there is a semblance of grief in the way your lips instinctively curve in the knowing.

you stare at the mourning sky. you close your eyes, inhale deep. exhale. there's an umbrella in your hand, but you do not use it.

and so the rain begins like this : solemn, quiet. fickle -- an announced presence, one so faint that one questions a mere drop here and there, and then the hurting begins, the understanding of the pain one has always carried alone. the rain grows, pours and pours, and then it storms.

another deep breath. you finally look down.

you know this story, you do. the legends once told of a dragon's cry.

you smile again.

still, you do not use your umbrella. you keep walking. there is somewhere to go, someone to be with.

two : & THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD IS A HEAVINESS IN THE HEART, THE BEATING AND BEATING OF A LIFE LONG LIVED GROWN WEARY AND TIRED. BUT EVEN IN THE HAZE OF DAYS GONE BY, THERE IS LOVE ETCHED IN THE TRACES OF FERVOR / OF QUIET COMFORT / OF REVERENCE, AND WHEN THE RAIN POURS, THE DRAGON WILL KNOW OF A SERENITY FOREVERMORE.

"rumor has it," you speak, words filled with repose as you lean against the door frame of a bedroom shared, "that when the dragon cries, the world will hear it, feel it, but they will not understand it."

neuvillette sits on the edge of the bed, his back facing you. you see the way he tenses slightly, and it is almost instinct that he wipes his tears away, ignores the subtle lump in his throat. he does not try to hide it much, not really. and it isn't because he is ashamed-- he's not, because there is not weakness in expressing one's grievances, but to him, it is simply just not necessary. unwarranted, even.

it is not often that he mourns, and truth be told, you think, it is not nearly enough. you take a few steps forward, your clothes slightly damp, the cool air gracing your skin. you find yourself standing before him. he is quick to rise from the bed, brows furrowed ever so slightly in concern at your state. he glances at the umbrella that lays by the door, and he is almost certain you did not use it at all.

"you carried it, yet you chose not to make use of it." he murmurs, and he almost feels guilty. you could get sick-- you're cold to the touch, but you don't shake, don't frown, don't complain. he doesn't understand.

you smile, and there is something so endearing about it that it almost hurts. you wonder if it will begin to storm again. you feel the way his hand cups your cheek ; you lean into the touch, place your hand over his.

"no, i didn't." you answer, and the warmth in your tone makes his heart hurt, somehow. "i never mind the rain, dearest." your smile grows the slightest bit, but so does the ache in his chest. "i know it signifies your pain. you carry everything on your shoulders-- alone, and you always have."

a pause, a brief flicker of reluctance as you choose your words carefully.

"i've always been fond of the rain. not because i know it means you're suffering, but because i know that you can grieve without judgement or reserve. because i know you're letting yourself feel."

then, you hear it-- the revival of rain, the gentle sound of droplets hitting the windowpanes, trailing down and down before collision. there is a storm brewing in the depths of his being, and in the skies, there is one that looms over fontaine. your thumb grazes his cheekbone, wipes another tear away before you press your forehead against his, bring yourself to speak again.

"i won't shy away from it. i won't hide from it. no matter when it rains, no matter where it rains, i'll always come find you. you know that, don't you?"

his other hand finds yours, almost as if by second nature. how gently he squeezes it, and he does so in quiet acknowledgement of your kindness and the love you have always shared. it's a long moment before he responds, and you can tell he's thinking, trying to find all the right things to say. but how do you respond to such ardor? how can you reciprocate something so venerating?

"you are stubborn, love. you'll fall ill."

you let out a soft laugh, almost roll your eyes in exasperation at his reply.

"yes, but it will be worth it. you're always worth it, neuvi."

[dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd]

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Thirteen - There Ought To Be Clowns

Warnings: None - This one is actually kinda wholesome lol

Chapter Summary: Jack finds out that the circus has come to Gotham and decides to go as a way to pick himself up after the rough night he had.

Author's Note: I got this done fast and it's longer than the last two chapters! Yay! I was nearly in tears while writing this. Jack is so adorable my heart- 😭

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @furisodespirit

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know! <3

< Previous - Next >

Jack was up way too early. He’d gotten up earlier to use the bathroom, but now he couldn’t go back to sleep. All he could do was stare at the ceiling blankly, wishing he could have a normal sleep schedule. Fed up, he roused himself from his bed and threw on some clothes, stumbling into the kitchen.

It was unusually cold this morning which meant the heating units in the building were broken again. Mrs. Vernon was probably going crazy trying to get that fixed. Jack picked up his flannel from the floor and put it on to stay warm. He placed his coffee pot on the stove and brewed a batch. Once it was ready, he grabbed a mug from the shelf and poured himself a cup. 

He sat down at the table and sipped on the warm drink. Caffeine always gave him an energy boost that made him feel better after a night of little sleep. That and cigarettes.

Jack finished the coffee and stood up from the table with a yawn. He tossed the mug into the sink and grabbed his keys from the counter. He wasn’t completely woken up yet and was bored. So to change things up he decided today he would go for a morning run instead of doing it at night. 

After he put on shoes and locked up, he took the stairs down and waved to Mrs. Vernon as he passed through the lobby. Once he was outside, he took off and started with a light jog, gradually increasing his speed to wake himself up.

Keeping in mind his discoveries from last night, Jack went a different route, running towards the harbor this time. The morning air was chilly and as time went on it got slightly lighter outside as the sun started to rise. Traffic was still present but very slim compared to the night before. Jack loved quiet mornings like this.

When he finally reached the harbor, he stopped at the railing and gripped it tightly, trying to catch his breath. He looked out over the water, admiring the pinkish orange hue shimmering across it. He had to admit Gotham’s sunrises were beautiful. They were a brief moment of peace before the daily hustle and bustle of the city set in and Gotham became depressing as usual.

He took one last look at the harbor before he turned and headed back. As he ran, he noticed red flyers attached to the light poles and taped up on street corners. Curious, he stopped to see what they were about.

The flyers read: Haly’s Circus comes to Gotham City Fri. Jan. 12th and Sat. Jan. 13th. Come one come all! A silhouette of a striped circus tent was in the background. At the bottom it listed the place where the show would be held and the times.

Huh. That seems nice. Maybe I should go. I have nothing better to do. Jack thought and pocketed the flyer. 

It would be good to go out and do something instead of sitting around the apartment like he usually did. After the rough night he had, he needed something to pick him back up. Maybe even boost his mood some. He loved the circus and fairs growing up. He always went to the carnival that came to his small town every year. There was a certain allure and magic that came with it. 

One of his fondest memories was when his mother saved enough money to take him to the circus in a neighboring town when he was eight. He loved it. He remembered thanking his mom nonstop after that. The circus was all he talked about for days.

Jacqueline was just as happy. Taking delight in seeing the pure joy on her son’s face but also because Scott finally let her do something out on her own without his control.

She had little excitement in her life. She only went out to run errands and was barely allowed to go to church on Sunday. She cherished the few times she was allowed to leave the mundane. 

…

Little eight year old Jack sat in his mother’s lap, his eyes sparkling as he watched the show unfold in front of him. 

“Do you like the circus, Jack?” Jacqueline asked, smiling softly.

Jack nodded, his attention focused solely on the ring. The animals came out a few moments later. An elephant stood up on its hind legs and lifted its trunk, trumpeting loudly. 

Jack giggled at the sight. “Mama what is that thing?”

“That’s an elephant, dear.” 

“Woah…” 

Jacqueline chuckled at the awe struck look on her son’s face. His fascination only grew as the show continued, especially when the clowns came out. The colors and sights and sounds made the young boy’s head spin. 

Jack held his mother’s hand as they walked out of the tent once the show was over, bouncing with excitement. Before they got in the car, he hugged her tightly, burying his face into her chest.

“Thank you for taking me, Mama.”

Jacqueline smiled and patted his head. “You’re welcome, baby.”

…

On the way to the circus, Jack grabbed a quick bite to eat at a nearby pizza stand since had a little time to kill before he went and got a ticket. He bought two slices from the stand and brought it back to his truck. He let the pizza cool off as he drove to the red striped tent set up in the distance. 

He parked in the gravel area near the tent and left the truck running so the heat would stay. As he ate, he observed the area outside the tent. There was already a line forming and people walking around outside. He glanced at his watch. He had a little under 30 minutes before the show started.

Jack finished eating and grabbed his jacket from the passenger seat, throwing it on as he got out of the truck. He shut the door and walked towards the line, pocketing his wallet and keys. As he waited in line, he surveyed his surroundings. 

The air smelled of popcorn and fried sweets. Everything was bustling with activity. Outside the tent different food vendors and carnival games were set up. Couples walked by holding hands and children ran around playing and laughing. The vendors were busy making food and taking orders. The people running the games were calling out to the crowds, trying to get their attention.

Overall the noise wasn’t too bad. Jack hoped it would stay that way when he got inside the tent.

Soon it was his turn in line and he approached the booth timidly. It probably looked really weird to everyone else that a grown man would be here by himself. But the girl behind the counter was really friendly and didn’t seem phased which put Jack more at ease. He took the ticket from the girl and headed towards the entrance.

Once he was inside, he scanned the area for a good seat. He found one towards the top where very few people were sitting. The show would start in 10 minutes. That meant that the seats around him most likely wouldn’t fill up, much to his relief.

As he waited, he started to grow antsy. Maybe this was a bad idea. He hadn’t been in a crowd this big in a long time and he was sure the noise would bother him. Why did he decide to do this again? He was setting himself up by walking into a direct sensory overload. If he wanted a pick-me-up why didn’t he just go get ice cream or something? You gotta start out small before you move to bigger things.

Soon the lights started to dim and the show began. It was too late to turn back now so Jack took a deep breath and focused on what was in front of him. The ringmaster opened with a few words and then a trio of jugglers were introduced.

They started out with safe objects like bean bags and eggs and then it got much harder. The number of objects increased and the safe objects were replaced with knives or flaming torches.

The jugglers finished their act and then the animals came out next. Two lions, a tiger, two elephants, and a bear were all paraded through the ring. The elephant, decorated in colorful beads and a cloth draped across its back, balanced on a small ball in the center of the ring. The lions and the tiger leapt through various sized hoops the trainers held up and performed various tricks. The bear, dressed in a pink tutu and bow, was somehow riding a unicycle.

As cool as it was to see these exotic animals up close, it seemed cruel to Jack to have them in this environment. It wasn’t natural for them to live this way. He hoped that the conditions they were kept in were at least humane, unlike most circuses. Hopefully maybe this one was different.

After the animals left and the stage was cleared off, the lights shifted to a purple hue and a young woman wearing a glittery blue leotard walked out into the ring. A hoop was lowered close to the floor and the woman gracefully swung her legs through it, sitting on the hoop as it moved up higher. 

Empowering instrumental music played in the background as the woman elegantly contorted her body around the hoop. The crowd cheered as she increased the difficulty. At times she was only hanging from the hoop by her feet.

Jack found this type of sport fascinating. It was mind blowing how she was holding herself up while barely touching the hoop so high in the air. He figured it took an incredible amount of strength and agility to be able to do that.

The woman finished with a bow and walked off stage. The room went dark after that. Suddenly the lights flashed colorfully in all directions. A group of dancers entered and began their routine. Jack closed his eyes for a few moments until the flashing subsided. It would give him a severe headache if he kept looking and he didn’t want the lights to trigger anything.

He finally opened his eyes when he could tell the lights returned to normal and watched the dancers wave around colorful silks as they danced and tumbled. He was paying attention but he had to keep his eyes focused on one thing at a time. It kept him anchored through the noise and the flashing movements, all things that could easily trigger him.

The dancing act concluded and Jack breathed a sigh of relief. The spotlight shifted to a trapeze set up towards the back. At the very top stood a family of acrobats, dressed in red and green and waving to the audience. They swung from the bars back and forth across the ring, doing flips in mid air and catching each other.

Among the acrobats was a young boy that had to be no older than seven or eight. The boy was grinning ear to ear as he flew through the air, flawlessly keeping up with the others. Jack was impressed. He couldn’t fathom being able to do that at such a young age.

After the acrobats and a few more bizarre acts were done, at last Jack's favorite act came towards the end. The clowns. Several of them came out at once with painted exaggerated faces and colorful costumes.

They fumbled over themselves due to their baggy pants and big shoes. The children in the audience laughed. Jack couldn’t help but smile a little. Seeing the clowns uncovered his childhood memory of the circus once more, giving him a warm fuzzy feeling.

He admired the clowns and the artistry put into their makeup and costumes despite their silliness. Each one had different faces, different colors, different wigs, and different patterns. They were all unique in their own way and Jack found that so cool. 

Clowns could even have a symbolic meaning behind them. The makeup was like a mask. It hid their true emotions. The paint made them look like they were smiling or some other exaggerated expression but in reality behind the paint was a different emotion entirely. 

Jack could somewhat see himself in that. Appearing fine on the outside but really on the inside he was struggling. Over time, more specifically the last few years, his mask began to fall. Now just by looking at him in his sleep deprived and disheveled state, you could tell he was going through a lot.

Finally, the show ended with the entire cast and crew standing in the ring, wishing everyone a good night. Jack hopped up from his seat and quickly made it to the exit before the crowds started rushing out. This allowed him to get to the parking lot faster and pull out before the traffic picked up.

As he drove back to his apartment, Jack was actually feeling really good. He even noticed a small smile tugging at his lips. That meant his idea worked. He couldn't believe it. 

The circus was really enjoyable and Jack loved it just as much as he did when he was eight years old. But even though he liked it, he probably wouldn’t go to one again because everything in the show could’ve easily triggered him. The lights, the noise, the music, the crowd, etc. He was very surprised that he stayed calm the entire time. 

He wouldn’t put himself in a stressful situation like that again, but at least now he knew that if it was absolutely necessary he could stop himself from being affected by things that could trigger him. He felt so proud of himself. Maybe this thing was beatable after all.

[captaincleverusernamehere]

The combo of low budget sets paired with not having enough film to reshoot very many shots means I just got to watch Jacqueline Hill (Barbara Wright) tear off a big chunk of a styrofoam cave wall set with her fingers, leaving a Very Visible white indent in the surrounding grey

and i just think that’s beautiful

[bitter69uk]

Born on this day 84 years ago (19 September 1940): effervescent and eccentric fuchsia-haired doyenne of British fashion, Dame Zandra Rhodes. She is of course the undisputed queen of the elaborately bejeweled float-y chiffon caftan, but I prefer Rhodes’ response to the rise of punk in 1977. To the revulsion of punk purists, Rhodes launched her own deluxe haute couture interpretation of punk fashion, with artful jagged rips and tears, embellished with glittering safety pins and chains! Some have claimed this made her “the high priestess of punk”, although I suspect the late Vivienne Westwood disagreed. Anyway, over the decades her clientele has numbered international jet set superstar names like Elizabeth Taylor, Jacqueline Kennedy, Cher, Bianca Jagger, Barbra Streisand and Princesses Margaret and Diana. But as far as I’m concerned, no one looked better in Rhodes’ signature caftans than drag mega-star Divine! (Rhodes and Divine were friends in the 1980s and in fact the only times I’ve ever spotted Rhodes socially, it’s been backstage at John Waters’ events in London, accompanied by Helena Kennedy QC and the late transgender trailblazer April Ashley). Pictured: portrait of Rhodes by Simon Emmett, 2018.

[edgessunflower]

For the pride celebration can I request a Stevie Richards x Victoria x fem!reader in which they celebrate reader's championship victory with cuddles?

Champion snuggles

Pairing: Victoria x Fem reader x Steven Richards

Description: Your partners shower you with love after you become women's champion against Trish Stratus

"We're proud of you no matter what baby, remember" you giggle as you're pressed in the middle between Stevie and Victoria as they kiss your cheeks before accompanying you to the ring for your match with Trish. This match was big for you not only because it was against Trish who had more experience in the business than you but this was a big title match for the women's championship and your second title match since you were women's intercontinental champion for a year into your career until you lost it to victoria before you got with her and stevie midway through 2003, trish was secretly impressed with how determined you were but just how strong your pure will was to prove yourself to her and everyone else backstage especially your close friends who mentored you over the past two years of your career in the business and always stood by you whenever anyone doubted or put you down even being in a handicapped match against Jacqueline and Molly Holly. Everything seemed to slow down as the last half of the match was neverending and the two of you countered each other back to back until you finally hit a spin kick followed by a spear and pin bursting into tears after the bell rings, stevie and victoria cheered as you ran backstage before being sandwiched between them leading to the three of you sharing glasses of champagne and takeout on the way to your shared hotel room where steven washed you in a bubble bath melting at victoria combing your hair leading to you snuggled between them where the two showered you with sweet endearments along with gentle caresses and soft kisses from saying "We're so proud of you" and "You deserve this so much" to the words that really turned you inside out with butterflies was "We love you pretty girl" the smiles grew bigger as all your hands intertwined while sharing a kiss with victoria wrapped in stevie's arms followed by a delicate kiss with stevie that turned to a series of paused kisses between each other.

[kamal-shurmani]

انطفأت اخيرا ي صديقي...

انطفأت تماما، كمطعم غادره زبائنه..

كساحة تنفض الريح ارجاءها بعد الحرب..

لماذا اكتب لك كل هذا الوجع؟؟

هل ابحث فيك عن مدينة أو دولة أو رمز يدلني على ذاتي؟

حتما لا ابحث عن مواساتك.. ولا أريد خوفك وقلقك.. ولا احتاج الى شفقة من احد..

اريد موتا طويلا.. اكيدا.. حقيقيا.. ينهي عذابات هذا المصلوب..

ينهي مسيرة تسكعي في الشوارع بحثا عن كسرة خبز، و قليل من السجائر.. او حضن امرأة رخيص..

اريد ايقاف هذا البحث المستمر عن الذات، البحث المستمر عن الاهل.. عن النفس.. عني.. وعن كل شيء...

لست موجود..

فعلا لست موجودا ولا حاضرا في اي شيء..

لا تحت هذه السماء الزائفة.. ولا فوق هذه الأرض.. ولا بين هذا الهواء الثقيل كالزيت...

تحت هذا الخوف البارد من الغد..

اغرس رأسي وادفنه تحت مخدة مهترئة فاشلة تماما في خنقي وخنق أحلامي وطموحاتي وهرائي وافكاري التي لم تحتاجها البشرية بعد؟

هل أخبرتك بأن نملة تأكل إصبعي؟

حتما لم أفعل..

أنني هنا..

في آخر الحشد.. في آخر الطابور امد ذراعي مرحبا 👋..

هل تعرفوني؟

أنا لا اعرفني..!

يضحكون!!!

يحسبوني امزح كما هي عادتي...

أيها الحمقى.. انا فعلا لا اعرفني..

هل تعرفني ي صديقي؟

الصورة الثانية من كل آخر، كنت..

ولم لا يكون الموت مصيري، كيف تأخر مصيري المحتوم؟؟

هل يحتاج إلى واسطة؟ معاملة؟ أوراق رسمية كي تكون جنازتي هادئة وحولها الكثير من المنافقين يبكون قبل مأدبة النسيان؟

كم يكلفني موت طويل وحقيقي، بقبر صغير في منطقة نائية، موت شرعي.. قدر ينتشلني من مستنقع الحياة الرتيبة ويلقي بي على قارعة الطريق كسمكة ميتة.؟

قد يكون تعبيرك عما كتبت إليك هو الغضب..

لا ألومك..

أنا أيضا أشعر بالغضب.. والحزن.. واليأس...

أنا متعب حد اخر الرمق..

مطعون إلى آخر السكين..

عاجز عن اجابة أي سؤال.. وخائف...

نعم انا خائف جدا...

اخاف من نفسي.. من الغد.. من الطريق.. ومن كل شيء...

واحتاج إلى مؤامرة كبرى كي اموت...

(( أن الرقم المطلوب لا يجيب))

كيان.