#this whole post is great and very thoughtful

[risrambles]

I’ve seen Thunderbolts*! Here’s my full, SPOILER review!

STOP READING THIS IF YOU DONT WANT SPOILERS FOR MARVEL STUDIOS’ THUNDERBOLTS*

LIKE NOW.

OKAY.

Buckle up, i’ve got a lot of thoughts and a lot of word space.

Well, that was a pretty great movie! If you’ve seen my non spoiler review you’ll know I gave it an 8/10, and rightfully so. The first hour, hour and a half of the movie eats the rest of the movie up and if the ending had been as good as the first acts I would give it a 10/10. it kind of felt underwhelming and almost like it was a “power of friendship” moment—though none of these people are really friends, so maybe that’s the point.

First of all—Yelena and Bob. God, they were amazing, I loved the dynamic between them and it was really interesting to see the whole void thing come into play with how they felt about life. It was great.

The first scene when Taskmaster, Yelena, Walker, and Ghost all meet—that was amazing. my jaw DROPPED when Taskmaster got shot in the head, I wasn’t expecting her to get taken out so soon or by one of the Thunderbolts. I mean, we all knew she was a goner but I really wanted to see a little more of her. I liked her suit a lot!

Obviously, I have to talk about Bucky. I have two small complaints—one, I wish we saw a little more of him. Considering he was listed second in the credits I think he was a little underused and slightly nerfed but honestly not by much. to go off that, I WANTED TO SEE HIM IN THE VOID! the only thing we got was a nod to the fact that while he was in his void searching for yelena and bob (“i have a great past, so I’m fine” that whole thing) he obviously saw something to do with the winter soldier. call me crazy but i saw blue lights in the room behind him that he crashed through from and it gave very much cacw winter soldier flashback vibes. and i WANTED TO SEE THAT! i wished we could have seen more than yelena, bob, valentina, and walkers voids.

Oh, valentina. she was so horribly great, i was so ready for the thunderbolts to rock her shit but then she turned it around and called them the new avengers. oh i hate her so much they did so good. her assistant was kinda slay too but eh!

NOW ONTO MY COMPLAINT AS A SAMBUCKY ENTHUSIAST—WHY TF DID WE ONLY GET A MENTION OF SAM? AND IN THE POST CREDITS? Honestly, i find it crazier that sam and bucky talked off screen and they didn’t even show us. and that APPARENTLY the conversation didn’t go over well, and now sam is suing them… guys we might actually be in the sambucky divorce era im gonna crash out. can they just kiss hug it out and get over it. and considering how close they got in tfatws and we saw them talking the cabnw i just really liked their dynamic and how happy they seemed as friends and now that’s just gone (but it is funny that sam is suing bucky and co). although, it will make for an interesting dynamic come doomsday, which makes me nervous considering that bucky’s time in the mcu is coming ever so closer to an end… (someone start recommending me bucky fics NYOW)

honestly, i kind of don’t like the whole new avengers thing. i kind of wanted them to stay as the thunderbolts, as dumb as it might be. I don’t like valentina though and I really wanted them to kick her ass. it was a funny credits sequence tho, with the “new avengers? nope!” love that they’re still universally hated i guess.

BUT OH MY GOD I WAS GONNA GO FERAL FOR BUCKY IN THE POST CREDITS. GOOD LORD HE LOOKED FINE. OH EM GEE, HIS HAIR? OH THE WAVES. SOMEONE TAUGHT OUR BOY ABOUT CONDITIONER AGAIN AND HE LOOKED INCREDIBLE. PLEASE LET HIM HAVE THAT HAIR IN DOOMSDAY AND PLEASE DONT LET HIM DIE.

okay, i’ve gotten past how much i love bucky and must move on to the Other Things that happened.

now, about the INSANE DROP IN THE CREDITS? the second i saw the “fantastic four: first steps theme” in the music credits i was like oh it’s so over. AND THE SHIP? oh dude their world is so cooked, doomsday is gonna be fire AND ARE WE GONNA SEE THE THUNDERBOLTS (new avengers) AT THE END OF FFFS? ARE WE GONNA SEE THE AVENGERS AND THE NEW AVENGERS WITH THE FANTASTIC FOUR? see, that’s why thunderbolts* was a good movie! it’s got me actually planning to see Fantastic Four: First Steps because i NEED TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!! i’m hooked!!!

Walkers one liners were great and even though i hate him i kinda feel for him. Yelena and Bob and Red Guardian were stand-outs; I LOVE BOB! and red guardians entrance was incredible as well, along with the car chase scene up to bucky rocking everyone’s shit.

Like i said, the first half of the movie was a 10/10; the last maybe 45 minutes was more of a 7/10. i did love the thunderbolts getting applause in the street which valentina definitely liked once she got the idea to market them as the new avengers. also the fact that they operate out of the old avengers tower? the fact that yelena and bucky are lowkey leading? the outfits that kinda ate down? i kinda vibe with it, but like i said i would hav really liked it if they weren’t considered the new avengers. maybe it would have been better if sam had shown up in the end to rally them for his cause as the avengers or if they just stayed the thunderbolts and did missions more akin to what steve and nat did in the beginning of catws. obviously not with them unknowingly working for hydra, but them as undercover ops would be cool.

idk! i just got out of the movie like an hour ago and i can’t remember it all right now bc it was so much good content.

tldr: the characters were great, the movie was solid/great, the post credits were worth it/insane and the story was good. if i missed anything that anyone wants me to cover (as if im some prime news source lmao, i am not, im just a mcu blogger who has been waiting for years for this movie) then lmk!

I HAVE TAGGED THIS POST AS SPOILERS AND INCLUDED A CUT!!! IF YOU SEE THIS AND DONT WANT TO, I TAGGED IT AND MADE SURE TO PUT A WARNING AND A CUT!!! IF YOU DONT WANT SPOILERS FILTER OUT THE TAG!!!

[sgiandubh]

Black Jack is in da house

I had promised you this short, but interesting answer from Tobias' Saturday morning panel, at the Landcon and it was impossible to post it from my phone (& took forever to transfer to my laptop, go figure):

The fan's question was about the relationship between the OL cast ('the whole cast', it was underlined - an Anti, for sure, they always dilute the real focus and then spin off the story at their convenience) while shooting Season 1 in Scotland. I think Rostercon's AI-generated lazy summing up that was taken for the Bible by some people (who were not in that room, but always have the nerve to lecture others) does not reflect at all what Tobias Menzies really said.

Here is the AI-generated summing-up of the above answer, in its original French version:

[Source: Outlander : revivez la première journée de la Land Con 7 - Roster Con]

My translation: 'Tobias has excellent memories of shooting Outlander; it was a real collaborative effort. He adds that they all learned from each other.'

Here is my transcript of the clip:

'Well, I mean, I'd like to think that I taught them all that they know. No, I mean it was an interesting job in that we all started it together, um, we didn't really know what the show was, we were off in the wilds of Scotland, no one really cared, we were making it... [sorry, I could not get that bit at all, perhaps a native speaker could and thank you] I mean, nobody knew that book and it was a sort of element to it, that it wasn't a big deal, it wasn't a big show. And so, there was a kind of freedom in that. Yeah, and I think we... we needed each other to work out how to tell the story in an exciting and interesting way, how to adapt the books, what.. yeah... how to...what the performance style almost was, to discover the show. And that was also with the show runners and the directors and all of the actors, we were kind of holding it together, working out what this show is and how we bring these books to life. And yeah, so we'd be all learning a lot from each other in that way. It was very collaborative, it was a great, very happy couple of years. [clapping, yelling, etc.]'

You'll agree with me that the sanitized version could never compare with the above verbatim, which is chock a block full with carefully calibrated, but very telling, nuances.

And now, for my own, eyewitness thoughts, you are totally free to agree or disagree with:

Tobias Menzies was never my OL favorite, which is perhaps testimony to his spectacular portrayal of the Black Jack/Frank Randall dynamic duo of sorts. Instead, I absolutely loved (loved, loved, loved....) his Prince Philip, in The Crown: spot on, subtle and boy, bringing to life a beloved (if somewhat controversial) Royal was everything but a piece of cake. He is also a very intelligent, well-read man, one could never accuse of speaking in tongues or in his sleep, while engaging with the press or the fandom. As such, once you peel off the layers of compulsory Narrative bullshit and the first line of pure British, self-deprecating banter, things become interesting.

Of course, he just had to pay lip service to the long negotiated talking points. Namely, that shooting Season 1 in the Scottish Highlands was doubled by a double sense of remoteness and uncertainty about the show's success. That said, he adds to it two interesting elements: that nobody knew anything about Gabaldon's body of work and that 'no one really cared', without further specifying. And I think this is true.

Speaking of which, 'Erself's American worshippers might perhaps want to take off their rose-tinted glasses and realize two things. First of all, their goddess was (and perhaps still is) a literary C-lister on the European fantasy book market, where people like Marion Zimmer Bradley, Robin Hobb, George R.R. Martin or Guy Gavriel Kay - ironically, all of them from North America - are real powerhouses, who have been enjoying a cult following for ages, even before or without a TV adaptation. But Gabaldon was nowhere important to be found, before the series started to be included on our own cable networks' offer. It is still considered as niche, even as the series has never left our Netflix offer. Second thing, in this particular context, I am pretty confident that 'nobody cared' relates both to the cast and crew's relaxed attitude on set, but also to the people's general live and let live attitude, which, I am told, still endures to this day. The stalking, the barking, the shouting and the swooning have started in the USA and crossed the pond in earnest only when the American Stans began to hit the road and make the pilgrimage to GLA.

Confirmation that it is so is another reference by the same Tobias Menzies, in the same answer: 'there was a kind of freedom in that'. Freedom: what a peculiar term, isn't it? Freedom of adaptation? That was not the impression Season 1 gave me, after reading the book. Freedom of being themselves and acting accordingly? That's more down my alley. It might even suggest that, after Season 1 wrapped (September 24, 2014), this blessed, innocent age gradually came to an end, as the show gained more and more traction, momentum and press attention.

I also deeply appreciated his honesty, when talking emphatically about starting 'it together' or needing each other and learning a lot from each other. There was no Tobias & C vs. The Peasant and the Rest of the World on that set, as some retconning theories would like you to believe. These people were actors embarking on a project which, for some, was about to become life-changing. I doubt scheming and power games and competition were on their already overflowing plates. Alas. Those tone-deaf allegations are not going anywhere, any time soon, I am afraid.

But here's more: 'it was a great, very happy couple of years'. The question specifically covered Season 1 only, not Tobias' entire Outlander shooting experience, which he chose to address, anyways. But mentioning a 'very happy couple of years' is strange, because his presence on set and involvement with the OL project was longer than that. Let's do the math:

Season 1 started filming on October 7, 2013 and wrapped on September 24, 2014.

Season 2 started filming on May 7, 2015 and wrapped on February 27, 2016.

Season 3 started filming on August 21, 2016 and wrapped on June 17, 2017. We know that the South African part was shot from March to June 2017 and the rest from August 2016 to somewhere before March 2017. Frank Randall dies at the end of the third episode (All Debts Paid), which was probably filmed before March 2017 - that was way before my time here, so please correct me if I am wrong.

That is covering almost four, not two years, on any given timeline. However, the Interview From Hell happened in January 2016, roughly two years and four months after the shooting started. And it was the first big blow to what probably used to be a happy-go-lucky SC Love Fest. Should we understand that the atmosphere on set ceased to be 'very happy' after the first couple of years? By the time IFH happened, they were still shooting Season 2, after all. I believe it had consequences and I also believe we are witnessing these consequences even today. What we do know is that increasingly paranoid non disclosure measures were taken, in order to make sure no unfiltered information would ever reach the outside world.

I am, of course, merely speculating, in this particular case. But the timeline incongruity, by one of the leads, who is also a very precise man when it comes to words, gave me pause.

I rest my case.

PS: sorry for the 'fuck off' interjection right in the middle of the clip. I was really, really annoyed by the unnecessary shuffling between rows and tried to focus on Menzies.

[alittlegiraffe]

If you‘re ever tasking requests: Could you maybe write something about them being at the studio and his boys like her very much and think she great for Marshall? (like Royce, Mr Porter, Paul)

I absolutes love your waiting🥰🥰🥰

Title: “Soft for Him”

The house was loud. The kind of loud that came with sports on the TV, beer in hand, and men shouting over each other like the game could hear them. You stayed mostly in the kitchen, humming softly as you arranged sliders on a tray, fingers brushing pink gingham that matched the little bow clipped in your hair. You didn’t need to dress up for this—it was just the guys—but you liked feeling put together. Pretty. Even if sometimes you wondered if you looked a little too out of place next to the world Marshall belonged to.

You didn’t fit the mold. Not the industry, not the scene. You weren’t bold, brash, or razor-sharp. You were soft-spoken, gentle, more prone to offering a plate of cookies than a snarky comeback. And sometimes, you’d catch one of his friends or crew giving you that look—the one that said, her? really?

You’d learned not to read too far into it. But still.

“Yo, where’s the—” Paul’s voice boomed into the kitchen before he caught himself, “Ah. There you are. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You gave him a little smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just came to grab more napkins.” He leaned on the counter, watching you for a second. “You holding up okay?”

“I’m good,” you nodded, glancing into the living room where Marshall was half-reclined on the couch, beer dangling in one hand, eyes on the screen—except they weren’t. He was watching you. His gaze soft, settled, like the whole party had faded behind him.

Paul followed your line of sight. Smirked. “You know he looks at you like that even when you’re not watching, right?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Like what?”

“Like you’re the only person in the room. Like you’re some kind of peace he didn’t think he’d ever get.”

You looked down, brushing crumbs off your apron. “I don’t always feel like I fit, you know? Like I’m not his kind of person.”

Paul gave a low chuckle and began stacking paper plates. “You’re not. That’s kind of the point.”

You looked up.

“He’s all sharp edges and fire,” Paul said. “And you… you’re the soft place he lands. You don’t have to be loud to be good for him. Hell, he’s loud enough for the both of you.”

Your eyes stung a little. You turned to the sink under the guise of rinsing off a spoon.

Paul clapped your shoulder, gentle. “You’re good for him. Better than good. And he knows it.”

Later, when the house was quiet again and Marshall tugged you into his lap without a word, burying his face into the crook of your neck like he always did when he needed grounding, you thought maybe Paul was right.

You might not fit into the world on paper.

But you fit into his.

---

The kitchen was quieter now, though it still held the echoes of the evening—beer bottles clinking in the trash, the faint buzz of the game’s post-show commentary drifting from the living room, the low murmur of goodbyes and back-slaps as people filtered out the front door.

You were stacking dishes in the sink, sleeves rolled up, soft curls falling around your face as you worked, when a familiar voice behind you said, half-slurred:

“Yo. Where the hell are the cookies?”

You turned with a laugh. “Hi, Denaun. Not even a hello first?”

He grinned sheepishly and leaned against the doorframe, red Solo cup in hand. “I knew you made those cookies. I told Proof’s cousin, like, ‘watch—she probably made the good kind with the sea salt on top.’” He peered around you exaggeratedly. “Am I wrong?”

You grabbed the plate from the counter and held it up with a little curtsy. “Sea salt and all.”

“Yes!” He took one with the reverence of someone who’d just found gold. “You’re too good for this place. For him.”

You raised a brow, amused. “Is that your way of saying thank you?”

Denaun took a bite and groaned like it was a religious experience. “Nah, that’s my way of saying… listen. Marshall used to be a dick.”

You snorted, half-turning to rinse a bowl. “Used to be?”

“Okay, okay,” he conceded, laughing. “He’s still an asshole. But now? He’s, like… a better kind. A domesticated asshole. Like one of those angry raccoons that found a warm attic to live in.”

You pressed a hand to your mouth to stifle a laugh.

“I’m serious,” Denaun continued, now gesturing with half a cookie. “There was a time you couldn’t talk to him before noon without risking your life. Now he’s out here asking people if they want ‘another slider’ and keeping your pink dish towels folded. I saw him fold a towel earlier, swear to God.”

You shook your head, cheeks warm.

“He’s different,” Denaun said, tone softening just a touch. “Still him. Still angry at the world. But with you? It’s like the anger doesn’t own him anymore. You’re the calm in his storm, and I think he finally figured out that he needs that. Needs you.”

Before you could respond, Marshall’s voice cut in from the hallway. “You giving my wife a hard time, Denaun?”

“Just saying nice things, swear on my mama,” Denaun called back with a mouthful of cookie.

Marshall stepped into the doorway, one brow raised, arms crossed. “Better be. You mess with her, you mess with me.”

Denaun held up the cookie like a peace offering. “Tell her to make more of these and I’ll never speak ill of you again.”

You and Marshall locked eyes, and despite the tiredness in his face, he gave you that look again—that steady, quiet one that made your chest go warm.

Denaun wandered off, muttering something about stealing a Ziploc bag.

Marshall crossed to you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder. “Don’t listen to him.”

You leaned back into him. “I liked what he said.”

He kissed the curve of your neck. “Yeah? What part?”

You smiled. “The part where he called you domesticated.”

Marshall groaned. “Jesus.”

You turned in his arms and cupped his cheek. “Don’t worry. You’re still my asshole.”

He smirked and kissed you slow, sweet. “Damn right.”

Marshall’s lips were just about to meet yours—hands firm on your waist, his breath warm and steady—when the kitchen door swung open again.

“Yo!”

You both startled slightly, and Marshall groaned audibly, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as Royce burst in like he was announcing the second coming.

“Tell me Denaun’s not the only one getting cookies. That’s favoritism, and I know that’s not how this house runs.”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, gently pulling back from Marshall’s arms to grab the small blue-lid Tupperware you’d prepped just in case. You held it out to Royce like it was a peace treaty.

“Already packed. I know how you guys operate.”

Royce’s eyes widened like you’d handed him treasure. He took the container reverently, then looked at Marshall, utterly serious. “I get why you love her, man. She’s the best of us.”

Marshall snorted. “Don’t tell her that. She’s already impossible to live without.”

Too late—you were smiling, cheeks warm.

Royce turned on his heel with a gleeful, “Denaun! Suck it, I got mine pre-packed!” as he disappeared back down the hall.

Marshall sighed, deadpan. “Next time, we fake our deaths and move to Montana.”

You laughed, turning back to him. “With your friends? That wouldn’t stop them. They’d still show up like, ‘you got Wi-Fi? And snacks?’”

He shook his head with a chuckle, then slid his arms around you again, tucking you close. “You’re too good to them.”

“I’m good to you,” you said quietly.

That finally settled him. He leaned in again, slower this time, pressing a kiss to your mouth that was all gratitude and grounding.

And no one interrupted this time.

---

It took some convincing, a glass of water, and a very firm “You can either sleep in the guest room or I’m calling your mom” before Denaun finally flopped back onto the bed with a dramatic groan.

You tucked the blanket over him like he was a sulking teenager instead of a nearly six-foot grown man. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

“Gonna steal your throw pillows,” he mumbled into the mattress.

“Fine. Just don’t puke on them.”

You turned off the lamp, pulling the door halfway shut behind you—and nearly bumped into Marshall, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed, wearing that unreadable half-smirk, half-melted look he always gave you when you did something that cracked him open a little.

“You enjoy bossing my friends around?” he asked, voice low, amused.

“I enjoy keeping them alive,” you said, brushing imaginary lint off your sundress.

Marshall reached for you, pulling you in without effort, tucking you into his side as the hallway dimmed behind you both. “You always this sweet to my friends, baby?” he murmured against the shell of your ear, lips trailing lower until they found that spot on your neck he knew made you sigh.

“Only the drunk ones,” you teased, smiling against the warmth blooming at the base of your throat.

He huffed a laugh, nose brushing your skin. “Lucky me, then.”

You walked together down the hall, his hand splayed warm and heavy on your hip, his body angled toward yours like even gravity favored pulling him closer.

“You’re really good at that, you know,” he said quietly, almost like it was a secret. “Taking care of people. Even the ones like him.”

“I like taking care of people,” you said. “Especially the ones who don’t always know how to ask for it.”

He hummed against your skin. “You sure you’re not too good for me?”

You stopped, turning to face him fully, your hands smoothing over his chest. “Maybe I’m just right for you.”

Marshall looked at you like you’d said something holy, and then his mouth was on yours again—deeper this time, slower, like he wanted to carve the truth of that into memory.

Behind you, Denaun let out a heroic snore that made the walls vibrate.

You both broke the kiss with a laugh, and Marshall grinned. “Guess we’re not getting much sleep tonight.”

You grinned back. “Speak for yourself. I packed the cookies and tucked in your drunk best friend. I’ve earned at least six hours.”

Marshall swept you into his arms anyway. “Fine. But I’m still making it hard.”

“You always do,” you giggled, as he carried you off toward your room.

---

By the time the bedroom door clicked shut behind you, your body felt like it had been wrung out and gently folded. The noise of the day had faded, leaving only the hum of the house and the low sound of Marshall moving behind you—setting his phone on the dresser, kicking off his shoes.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, fingers working at the tie of your dress, when his hands came to rest gently on your shoulders.

“Let me,” he murmured.

You dropped your hands into your lap and let him take over. He undid the knot with slow, careful fingers, letting the soft fabric fall away from your frame like petals. There was no rush in him tonight—no teasing, no heat behind his touch—just that quiet kind of reverence that always caught you off guard. Like every part of you mattered. Like he saw you.

“You did a lot today,” he said, voice low as he leaned down to press a kiss to the curve of your shoulder. “Didn’t sit down once.”

“I’m okay,” you murmured, even though your legs ached and your back was tight and your eyes stung just a little.

He didn’t answer. Just helped you out of the rest of your clothes, his touch soft and patient, like he was unwrapping something precious. You lay back against the pillows and he tugged the blankets up around you, settling beside you without a word, arm curling protectively around your waist.

“Turn over,” he said gently.

You blinked at him. “What?”

“I’m giving you a massage. Don’t argue.”

You laughed, too tired to protest anyway, and rolled onto your stomach. A moment later, his hands were on you—firm, slow pressure working into your lower back, then gliding up your spine, his thumbs finding every knot and easing it out with practiced care.

You let out a soft sound as your body began to melt under his touch. He leaned down, brushing your hair aside to kiss the back of your neck.

“You do too much,” he whispered. “Always taking care of everyone else.”

“I like it,” you murmured into the pillow.

“I know you do,” he said. “That’s what makes you... you. But you don’t have to do it alone all the time.”

His hands slowed, resting against your shoulder blades. “You come in here, soft voice and pink dress, and you don’t even realize you’re the strongest one in the room.”

Your throat tightened at that, but before you could speak, he shifted beside you, curling you into his arms as he lay down, holding you close and warm against his chest.

“I got you now,” he said softly. “Let me take care of you for once.”

You didn’t answer—not with words. Just tucked your face into his chest, let yourself finally relax, and breathed him in.

And he stayed right there, one hand stroking lazy circles on your back, the other holding you steady—quiet, grounded, safe.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there in his arms, skin warm against his, wrapped in that stillness that only came with being completely known, completely safe. His hand never stopped moving—those slow, steady circles along your back that started out soothing but gradually dipped lower… brushing the curve of your hip, tracing the dip of your waist.

You sighed into him, soft and breathy, and you felt the way his body responded to the sound—his breath catching slightly, the arm around you tightening.

“You’re relaxed now,” he murmured, lips brushing your temple.

“Mhm.”

“I like you like this.”

His voice was low—rougher now, darker at the edges—and it made something in your stomach flutter. He shifted beside you, coaxing you gently onto your back, his eyes searching yours in the dim light.

“You sure you’re not too tired, baby?” he asked, fingers brushing your cheek.

You shook your head, already arching slightly into his touch. “Not with you.”

That was all he needed.

He kissed you slowly at first, like he was still handling something fragile—mouth soft, patient, coaxing. But when your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, something shifted. The kiss deepened, his weight settling over you, hands sliding over your skin like he was relearning every inch.

“You take care of everyone else,” he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, along your collarbone. “Tonight, I take care of you. No interruptions. No distractions.”

You gasped as his mouth found that tender place just beneath your jaw, his hand slipping beneath the blanket to trace the inside of your thigh. “Marshall…”

“Shh, baby. Just let me make you feel good.”

And you did.

You let him take his time—let him worship every part of you with his mouth, his hands, his voice murmuring soft praises against your skin. He moved like a man who knew what it meant to fall apart, and how to put someone back together again—slowly, reverently, with just the right amount of heat to remind you how deeply he loved you, how much of himself he’d always give to you.

By the time you were breathless and shaking beneath him, his name on your lips like a prayer, he kissed you again—forehead pressed to yours, the words “I got you” whispered again and again like a vow.

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, you knew: the world could fall apart outside those walls.

But in here, you were home.

---

The morning light crept in slow, golden stripes through the blinds, brushing soft across the room. The scent of rain lingered faintly from the storm that rolled in sometime during the night, and somewhere down the hall, Denaun snored like a dying lawn mower.

You stirred beneath the sheets, sore in the sweetest way, skin still humming with memory. A warm arm was slung across your waist, and when you shifted, Marshall murmured low behind you.

“Mm. You movin’ already?”

You smiled sleepily, nestling back into the curve of his chest. “Trying to, but apparently I’m trapped.”

His voice was rough and lazy. “Damn right you are.”

His hand slid a little lower, fingers brushing along your hip possessively. You let out a soft laugh.

“Someone’s feeling smug.”

“You’re warm, you’re naked, and you moaned my name like a song last night,” he mumbled into your hair. “Course I’m smug.”

You reached back to swat at him, but he caught your hand easily, lacing your fingers with his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“You sleep good?” he asked, voice gentler now.

You nodded. “Like a rock.”

He smiled against your shoulder. “Good. That was the goal.”

Just as you were melting into the quiet again, a knock sounded at the bedroom door—too enthusiastic, too familiar.

“Y’all decent?” came Denaun’s unmistakable voice. “Because I’m making coffee and I swear the cookies are gone and I’m suspicious.”

You groaned into the pillow. “He’s relentless.”

Marshall sighed, flopping dramatically onto his back. “I should’ve let him drive home drunk.”

You laughed and rolled over, leaning up on one elbow. “You love him.”

Marshall scowled half-heartedly. “I love you. Him? He’s like athlete’s foot. Won’t go away, mildly irritating, but you learn to live with it.”

You bit back a giggle, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Well, athlete’s foot made coffee. I’m gonna go make sure he doesn’t burn down the kitchen.”

He caught your wrist gently, looking up at you with that rare, unguarded softness.

“Hey.”

You met his eyes.

“Thank you. For yesterday. For last night.” His thumb traced a line along your wrist. “For being mine.”

You leaned down and kissed him, slow and lingering. “Always.”

And then you slipped from the bed, pulling on one of his shirts—the hem brushing your thighs—as you padded barefoot down the hall, laughter already rising in your chest at the sound of Denaun arguing with the coffee machine.

Marshall watched you go, head tipped against the pillow, a lazy smirk tugging at his mouth.

Yeah, he thought.

Always.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

chatting with Ford Pines while he’s away sailing (and being down bad about it)

been thinking about this for a while. i just love this idea, so yeah here’s this silly little chat with ur old man who doesn’t know what “slay” means, just smth quick to post, i was thinking of writing smth as that with Stan too

suggestive

you: hiiiii

you: hi hi hi hi hi

you: u ignoring me already??? damn

you: forgotten b4 my time

you: anyway how’s Stan?? is he being dramatic again

you: did u make ur weird tea this morning

you: did u think about me when u stirred it :(

Ford: My dearest, I did not mean to ignore you! I only just now figured out how to open this particular chat thread. For some reason, it was labeled “dr sexy boat man <333” and I didn’t immediately recognize that as myself. Stan is being extremely dramatic, yes. He insists that the seagulls are, as he says, spying on us.

I did make my tea this morning. I stirred it clockwise and thought of you, as I always do. The silence of the sea at dawn made me miss the sound of your voice.

With undying affection,

Stanford

you: omg, you responded!! my brilliant man so smart with his new phone<3 i love u so much

you: u r literally like the softest man alive and also so hot

you: the duality is insane. if u were here rn i’d be biting u

you: ok don’t die at sea :( i have plans to do very bad things to u when u get back

you: and by bad i mean so good

you: u feel me

you: ok probably not :')

Stanford: You are such a curious creature, my love. First: I am flattered to be described as “soft” and “hot” simultaneously. I believe that’s a compliment.

Second: I am unsure whether to be alarmed or intrigued by your desire to bite me, but I suppose I lean toward intrigued. You know I trust you implicitly.

Finally: I will not die at sea. Not before returning to you and not before I finally learn what “u feel me” means.

(Does it mean you agree? Or you wish to feel me? Or... is it both?)

you: i’m gonna kiss u so hard u pass out

you: and then bring u back w another kiss

you: and YES it means both u nerd

you: god ur so hot when ur confused

you: also i want u to like. absolutely ruin me when u get back

you: but also one more thing!! i woke up wearing ur sweater today btw

you: smells like u

you: kinda made me crazy ngl

you: like maybe i need u to rail me in it when u get back

you: just a thought. a lil vision i had <3

you: but how’s the sea or whatever. still blue?

Stanford: Oh, my love.

I must admit, I read your few messages several times to make sure I understood them correctly. You wore my sweater. That makes me warm inside, you always look beautiful in my clothes. I like the thought of you in it. I hope it was comfortable.

Stanford: As for “rail me”. I’m not entirely certain what that implies, and “ngl” appears often in your texts but remains cryptic to me. I assume both are modern expressions? I’ve written them down to research later.

Stanford: The sea is indeed still blue! And vast. But nothing compared to the vision of you in my sweater.

you: oh my god Ford. baby<33

you: ngl = not gonna lie

you: and "rail me" = use ur imagination (or don’t, i’ll send u pics if u want a visual)

you: u r SO lucky ur hot bc ur so outta touch

you: it’s kinda insane. my lil cave man bf. but ur MY lil cave man. and ur mine to destroy <3

Stanford: I will never fully understand your generation’s humor, but I do adore it. And you. Thank you for the clarification. I do appreciate your patience with me. And, well, I suppose I shall endeavor to be worthy of this destruction. If you insist. If it’s any reassurance, I think about “railing” you in all ways every night out here. It’s borderline distracting. Also, while I may be “out of touch,” as you say, I’m very open to visual aids. For research purposes, of course.

you: haha aww u miss me huh

you: i mean... how could u not, i'm a whole snack

you: bet i’d be a much better distraction than ur books tho

Stanford: I never doubted your charm, my dear. And while books are always a great companion, I must admit, having your presence here would indeed make everything more... pleasant.

There's just something about the idea of you close, perhaps even running your fingers along my coat... Not that I would object to that, of course.

you: ohhh you’re making me blush <3

you: don’t get too carried away tho, i might just start sending you naughty pics

you: can’t stop thinking about u rn tbh

Stanford: Oh? That would certainly be... interesting. But, for the record, I have no idea how to fully interpret these things you say sometimes.

Your language is so modern. What exactly does “snack” mean? Does it refer to food, or... other things? I'm somewhat lost here.

you: it’s a compliment, Ford!!

you: your adorable

you: “snack” means u hot, duh. u r the snack i wanna eat!!

Stanford: Ah. I see! Thank you for explaining, love. Well then...

Perhaps I’ll be the one to do the “eating” when I return. If you’ll allow me

you: OH my GODDdddd Ford what the hell

you: not u saying that so casually like it’s not the dirtiest thing i’ve ever heard from u

you: who taught u that????

you: ok yeah u win. u can eat whatever u want. whenever. however.

you: knew u had that dog in u somewhere <333

Stanford: I miss you terribly, my love. I hope you’re eating properly and remembering to drink water. And, this is very important, do not attempt any elaborate rituals without me. Remember last time. I love you very much. I’ll write again after the next port. Hopefully with better signal.

Yours (achingly so),

Stanford

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

Little!Jackie - Defence

Credits for this go to the incredible anon who gave me the idea earlier today (we need to pick out an anon emoji for you if you’d like it!) and is set in the post crash au I’ve been writing about a bit recently (a name for the au itself is still pending) hope you guys enjoy!!

Notes -> little!jackie, cg!nat, post!crash au, agere, bed wetting, pull-ups, trauma, blood, very vague allusions to an eating disorder

Word count: 2078

They’d missed a lot of things while they were in the wilderness. Graduating, the release of the Nintendo 64, too many movies to count. Some things they couldn’t do much about - graduating was just something that wouldn’t be on the table for any of them. But god willing they could definitely catch up on some missed movies. Tonight, Matilda. Jackie had never been a big fan of movies, always finding herself distracted halfway through. She didn’t mind it too much right now though, too tired to do anything else and content sipping her hot chocolate on the couch squished up between Mari and Shauna. The hot chocolate was settling warmly in her stomach, and the mug she was very carefully holding in two hands was beginning to run out. Jackie didn’t usually have hot chocolate, before the crash she’d never have let herself touch the stuff, but now things like sugar and calories seemed to matter a lot less.

Deciding she could miss a few moments of Matilda, Jackie wiggled herself out from under the blanket she’d been sharing with the other girls. “Anyone else want a second cup?” She offered, wanting to use her best manners. There were a few mugs held out in her direction but as Jackie was reaching to grab them her eyes fixated on Tai and Van. They were sharing a look. The kind of look that made Jackie’s stomach ache with anxiety because she didn’t understand it but she knew it was about her.

“Jax, maybe that’s not a great idea,” Van suggested softly - though to Jackie her voice sounded to be just dripping with malice. Shame filled her body quickly, a burning sensation starting in her chest and spreading like wildfire till it was all she could feel. Her eyes started to water against her own volition. Jackie did not like what Van was insinuating. She hated that any of them knew about her… bedtime predicament, she hated even more that any of them thought they had the right to talk about it! She felt exposed, targeted - everyone’s eyes were on her. Stupid, she thought, stupid, stupid baby.

“I’m not a baby,” Jackie huffed, eyes contracting tightly in defiance as she tried her best to bare lazers right into Van. How could she? How could any of them even begin to think they knew anything about her or what she went through.

“Oh, Jackie, that’s not what I was-“ Van was trying to sweep in with a cleanup crew but it was too late. Jackie could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks and she just felt so mad!

“Who are you to tell me what I can do anyway?” She huffed, her fists tightening around the mug handles. “You’re just as stupid and pathetic,” she seethed. It felt like her whole body was shaking with anger. “I don’t need you to baby me! I’m not some stupid bedwetting baby like some people.” She didn’t mean it, not really, or maybe she did - Jackie wasn’t sure anymore. Everything just felt so fuzzy and painful. Her ears were ringing loudly, the same buzzing that filled her whole body. It was all too much. She wasn’t even looking at Van anymore, her eyes fixating on a random spot off in the distance. She stomped her foot, so they’d know just how angry she was with… well… everyone. It wasn’t enough. Her hands unclamped without a single warning, the mugs dropping to the floor and sending out a shattering crack which pulled Jackie out of her head enough to catch the cries coming from around the room. She let her eyes shift over hesitantly. Oh. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. Everyone was crying, or, if they weren’t crying, they looked like they were about to jump her. Even Shauna. Especially Shauna. Lottie was curled up on the floor, hands clamped over her ears, rocking back and forth. Jackie hadn’t meant for this to happen. Her heart hammered heavily in her chest, dread growing fast. She turned back to look at Tai and Van, hoping to find some of the parental sympathy she was used to. But nothing. They just look disappointed, maybe even disgusted. This was bad. Bad, bad, bad. Jackie was bad. Every part of her body ached with terror. She needed to get away, quickly, before they all realised just how truly awful she was and sent her away forever. Jackie ran right over the shattered ceramic on the living room floor, she didn’t care that it hurt. She just had to get out of there.

Jackie’s room was on the second floor, sandwiched between Shauna’s and Nat’s. At first she’d wanted to share with Shauna, but she’d very quickly become grateful that the other girl had insisted they needed their own space. Their own privacy. Jackie knew a thing or two about needing that right now. She dropped down onto her and slithered under her bed. It was gross and the dust clung to her shirt and clouded up in her face. Despite that - it was safe. She was safe. No one was going to find her here - no one could look at her, no one could yell at her, and no one could humiliate her. Jackie’s foot hurt, she couldn’t remember why, but it was suddenly the only thing she could think about and she was crying all over again. She felt pathetic, defeated. She could fight and kick and scream as much as she wanted but at the end of the day she was just tragic and boring and insecure. And everyone knew it. Jackie sucked in a heavy breath, pulling way too much dust into her mouth at the same time. She couldn’t stop crying - just confirming everyone’s suspicions about how much of a cry baby she was.

Jackie stayed under the bed even when her head hurt so much from crying she thought it might explode, her muscles ached from staying still and her foot still hurt. Just when she thought she might have to live under her bed like an ugly troll from a fairytale for the rest of her life, her bedroom door creaked open. Jackie craned her neck a little to look at who it was. Nat’s heavy work boots made a soft padding sound as they crossed Jackie’s hardwood floor. She watched as Nat quietly sat down beside the bed, leaning back against the bedside table with her knees tucked up to her chest. “Jax, you in here?” Nat called out, her voice soft and untelling of any anger. Not that Jackie was expecting anger from Nat, who hadn’t actually been there when everything had gone down. She must’ve only just got home from work, which meant it was 9:30 and Jackie was really supposed to be in bed by now. Jackie grumbled softly in response.

There was a moment of stillness where Jackie thought maybe she was just imagining Nat, but then she saw Nat’s hand, cold but safe, reaching out under the bed. She took it, because even if she did want to hide forever, she couldn’t help but ache for the comfort. “Van told me what happened. No one is mad at you, Jackie,” Nat explained softly, knowing instinctively where Jackie’s mind would go. “You gave everyone a fright and you used some not very nice words, which you’ll have to apologise for, but it doesn’t make you a bad kid.”

Jackie sniffled, using her hand that wasn’t holding Nat’s to wipe her face. “You don’t have to hide, ok? It’s safe to make mistakes here.” Nat squeezed her hand, trying desperately to ease the girl out from under her bed. “Will you come out so we can have some cuddles?” Nat offered, knowing how much of a sucker the regressed girl was for affection.

Jackie squirmed a bit under the bed, poking her head out from under the bottom of the covers. “Hey kid,” Nat smiled warmly.

“Hi,” Jackie mumbled back, keeping her eyes away from Nat’s. “Natty?”

“Yeah Jax?”

“Is there… something wrong with me?” Her voice wavered as she spoke, shame creeping into every syllable.

“Jackie…” Nat sighed, pain blooming in her chest for the younger girl. “No. No, there is nothing wrong with you,” she promised. Nat pulled Jackie’s hand up towards her, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “There’s nothing wrong with having accidents, Sweetheart. Especially given everything you’ve been through.” Jackie wiggled out from under the bed at the reassurance. Her shoulders were pulled up tensely but she shuffled into Nat’s arms and once she was there she started to feel a little bit less like the world was ending.

Nat rearranged them carefully, pulling Jackie’s legs up into her lap so she could cradle her just like a real baby. That’s when she noticed the dark red spot blaring against Jackie’s white sock. “Shit, what happened here, Jax?” Jackie looked down, suddenly realising why her foot had been hurting. Oh. Memories of the smashed mugs came back to her and Jackie started to feel pressure build up behind her eyes all over again. “Hey, hey, it’s ok,” Nat bounced Jackie on her knee as she used a hand to tug the sock off. Inspecting the injury, Nat tutted. “Just a little cut, nothing we can’t fix up with a Band-Aid.”

“Can I pick which one?” Jackie asks hopefully.

“Yeah, ‘course you can.”

Nat picked Jackie up - which was not easy considering they were roughly the same size. But she didn’t complain, not one bit, and it made Jackie feel safe. “Of course you don’t have to walk, princess, you’ve got an owie and I get to look out for you.” Nat sat Jackie down on the edge of the bathtub before opening up the bathroom cabinet and pulling out a couple boxes of kids bandaids. She held them out to Jackie, letting the smaller girl pick the ones she wanted. After a moment of deliberation, a good distraction while Nat wiped the blood away, Jackie’s decided on a Band-Aid with Belle on it. “Why’d you pick her?” Nat asked, as she placed the Band-Aid over the little cut.

“She ‘meminds me of Shaunie,” Jackie explained. Then, she paused, fresh tears appearing in her eyes. “Shauna mad?”

“Oh Jackie…” Nat sighed, cupping Jackie’s cheeks in her hands. “Shauna isn’t mad at you. No one is, ok? We all love you very much.”

“Lot was cryin’ tho, an’ I said mean things to Van,” Jackie hiccuped between tears.

Nat pulled herself up onto the edge of the bathtub and sat beside Jackie. “She did, and you did. But that doesn’t mean they don’t love you. You’re tired, Sweetheart, you didn’t mean it.” Jackie sucked in a harsh breath, she was tired. Nat wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.“

-

Jackie couldn’t find it in herself to care when Nat reached straight for the drawer where she’d been silently leaving the pull-ups for months now. She did insist that Nat turn around while she changed, but Nat was already doing that anyway so the demand died on her tongue.

“I never got another cup of hot choc’late,” Jackie mumbled with a soft pout once she was tucked in tightly under her blankets. Nat laughed softly, brushing a hand through Jackie’s hair.

“Sippy cup or bottle?”

“Bottle.”

Nat left and returned not too long after with one of the baby bottles (unofficially they were Lottie’s but she never minded sharing) filled with warm hot chocolate. “Here you go kid, drink up.” Jackie beamed - reaching for the bottle with both hands and eagerly bringing it to her lips. Nat went to turn out the lights and suddenly Jackie felt like crying all over again.

“Stay?” She asked sheepishly - guilt trickling in at the request as she knew Nat probably just wanted to get out of her work clothes and go to bed. But Nat didn’t complain. She switched off the light and crossed back over to Jackie’s bed.

“Sure thing Princess,” She hummed as she flicked on the soft fairy lights that were wrapped around Jackie’s bed frame. Jackie shuffled over and Nat slipped onto the edge of the bed, wordlessly taking the bottle into her own hands so Jackie could focus on cuddling her stuffed bunny, Alice, to her chest. “Goodnight Jax,” Nat whispered softly.

“Ni ni Natty,” Jackie yawned, moments before she slipped off to sleep.

[concreteangel92]

The Tattoo Artist - Chapter 2

Noah Sebastian x female reader

No warnings

So I decided to make this into a little story, as I’ve said before, it’s not going to be a super long fic but I’m enjoying being back in this little universe again. I hope everyone likes it and I’ll try and update it soon ☺️

You can read chapter 1 here if you haven’t already

Permanent Taglist: @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @bloody-spades @lacy1986 @fadingangelwisp @theanarchymuse95 @w0manof-flesh44 @dream-machine-love @thisbicc @amelia-acero @badomensls @fadingintothegrey @tosoundlessdarkistare @ichoosetenderomens @hurricanesfollowyou @concretejunglefm @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @xmads-omensx @chey-h @xxkittenkissesxx @lyschko666 @rumoured-whispers @renegadebirch @floodflameschosen @ami--gami @koskeepsake

Let me know if you wish to be added!

Masterlist

You walked down the aisle with the basket on your arm as you done a small food shop for the week.

Naturally, as you had a bit of a sweet tooth, you found yourself picking up a couple bags of your favourite sour jellies and tossing them into your basket.

“Stocking up?”

You turned around and saw Noah stood there with an amused smile on his face.

“Oh hey! Sorry I didn’t see you there, and yeah you caught me”

Noah chuckled and walked over so he was standing next to you, you noticed he’d picked up a drink and a sandwich which was in his large hands.

“I feel I owe you a packet of those seeing as I ate so many a few weeks ago”

You smiled and shook your head.

“Don’t be silly, I keep some spare for my clients for such emergencies. How is your tattoo now?”

Noah smiled more and lifted the leg of his joggers up over the freshly healed tattoo. You couldn’t help yourself but bend down and have a proper look at your work, eyes skimming over the clean lines and bold colour.

“Nice! This healed really well”

“It did, it’s definitely one of my favourites now, everyone has loved it when I’ve shown them”

You stood back up with a small blush.

“Thank you, I’m so happy that you love it. My books have certainly started to fill up more thanks to your post”

Noah looked slightly sheepish as he brought one hand up to rub the back of his neck.

“Yeah…sorry I didn’t say anything in person, I don’t always know how to react with people who like the band or whatever”

“No that’s ok, I’m sorry I didn’t know who you were, I felt kind of embarrassed when I realised that I was talking and asking you if you’d seen the band, of course you have”

You giggled nervously as you remembered the conversation while finishing up his leg piece.

“Actually it was kind of refreshing to hear someone just talk about the music without knowing who I was”

“Well isn’t the whole point of a band to enjoy the music?”

Noah laughed as he responded. “You’d be surprised, some fans can be very….enthused about everything I do”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m not going to steal a lock of your hair or anything”

“Shame. I was hoping you were keeping a shrine.” He grinned, then added, “But seriously…it was nice. Talking to someone who wasn’t performing a fake version of themselves just because they recognised me”

“Well I can assure you that I very much just enjoy your music” You both started to walk down the aisle together.

“Damn, and there I thought you enjoyed my company too”

“Careful Noah, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were flirting with me?” You couldn’t stop the smile on your lips and the butterflies in your tummy as he kept his intense gaze on you.

“Maybe I’m just trying to pluck up the courage to ask if you fancied getting a coffee together?”

You stared up at him in slight disbelief.

“Really?”

Noah looked nervous as he smiled down at you and nodded.

“Yeah, sorry I’m not normally as forward, obviously if you’re busy then…”

You cut his fast ramblings off with a smile.

“I’m free now?”

He smiled and you watched as his shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Yeah I’m free for a couple hours, I know a great place not far from here?”

“Lead the way”

A little while later after paying for your items, you found yourself walking around the local park, both with a coffee in hand and chatting casually.

“So are you guys rehearsing at the moment?”

You took a sip of your ice latte as you looked up at him.

“Yeah we have a few shows coming up in the next month, one here actually if you wanted to come along?”

“Really? There are still tickets left?”

Noah blushed slightly as he walked.

“For me there would be yeah, I could get you a backstage pass if you wanted?”

The butterflies in your stomach hadn’t stopped for the last hour and in this moment you felt like they were swarming as you tried to stay calm.

“That would be amazing!”

Noah smiled at your answer, the corners of his eyes creasing slightly.

“Cool. I’ll text you the details once it’s all confirmed”

You nodded, trying not to overthink the way your hand gently brushed his as you both walked a little closer next to each other.

The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting a golden light across the path as your conversation drifted to other things, your favourite bands, ridiculous tour stories which you couldn’t get enough of and the weirdest tattoos you’d ever been asked to do.

You couldn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this at ease, it felt so natural to be walking together and just enjoying the other’s company.

To anyone watching the pair of you, on the outside you looked calm but on the inside, your heart hadn’t slowed down since he smiled at you in the snack aisle.

[likeadevils]

You're a responsible and stable fan who I trust with my weird thoughts. I don't think she wrote Midnights as a break up album and I do not respect the rewriting the past that Midnights is a break up album, like statistically, it's not a break up track album, like that's not what she was doing on purpose. She was unpacking her past to figure out her next move maybe? Saying that, going back and forth remembering the good times, the happy times, the green flags and then thinking about having to break up with a person again, the red flags, the unanswered questions, would keep a person up at night. This feels like a weird take but maybe it's more popular out there in the fandom. Heck her thinking about her past did give her a plan of action, even if that plan of action didn't work out. Not the way she planned anyway. Maybe I'm too dossed up on medicine and maybe this thought is stupid but it makes sense to me. She was staying up late at night and thinking about staying in love with someone being a thing which keeps you up at night in a worrying way planning your next moves.

no i think this really aligns with what i think! i’ve found most of the people who say “midnights is a breakup album” use it as shorthand for “midnights is a considering a break up album”, or “midnights is a break that might become a breakup album”, but personally i think there’s a significant difference between a Break Up Album and either of those.

looking at interviews & the studios used on the album (full sourcing in the midnights timeline in my pinned post), it seems like a lot of the pro-joe tracks came later in the timeline? which does make it very interesting. like look at this!!

spring 2021: renegade, high infidelity, and would’ve could’ve should’ve (probably her feature gasoline as well)

summer 2021: the great war, hits different

fall 2021: maroon, anti-hero, you’re on your own kid, midnight rain, question, vigilante shit, bejeweled, labyrinth, mastermind, dear reader, you’re losing me

spring 2022: lavander haze, karma, sweet nothing, bigger than the whole sky, paris*, glitch (probably the alcott as well)

that’s! like! like you said, going back through her past trying to find the right move. but the specific things that come up— commitment vs ambition, her need for control, the undercurrent of dehumanization inherent to relationships with men, especially long term. in you’re losing me she clearly wants to get married, but every other song is just— but i don’t. i don’t. it would destroy me. relationships have never done anything but destroy me. i don’t want to get married! and it’s clearly somewhat of a cope but it’s a fucking interesting cope.

and then spring 2022 comes around and she’s like nvm i’m in love again! ignore all that! marriage is a death trap but the rest of it’s okay! and like. idk i love it. you’re losing me being written in dec 2021 revealed a lot of depth to the album for me everyone say thank you jack

[lemotmo]

To be honest, I think Bobby will return in episode 8.18, or they’ll give a hint that he’s alive—maybe being held captive—and the season will end there. That would leave us anxious during the hiatus. Season 9 could start with Bobby being rescued from captivity, making his rescue the big emergency at the beginning of the season.

If Bobby is dead, I’m almost certain they’ll bring in a big-name actor to attract attention from the general audience and the fandom. Not to replace Bobby or to be a love interest for Athena, but just to add to the cast—maybe an old friend of Athena’s and Hen’s.

The fandom is angry and wants the show canceled. Still, I think even if Bobby is dead, we’ll have at least three more seasons without issue. Many general audience viewers will continue watching because of Athena’s and Jennifer’s storylines. Just look at Grey’s Anatomy and other ABC shows—sometimes the live ratings aren’t great, but they perform well on streaming.

I doubt Angela would want to leave, especially since she and her husband are executive producers of 9-1-1 Nashville. His production company is credited alongside Ryan Murphy Productions.

I'm combining both of your posts Nonnies, because they elevate each other.

I've also thought about it being revealed that Bobby is alive at the end of 8, just to keep people talking during hiatus and eager to watch season 9 again. It is definitely a possibility and I could see it happening.

But part of me still thinks they will want to end this season on a happy note, so that's why I'm leaning into the direction of Bobby being revealed alive in 8x17 and coming back in 8x18.

Let's just hope that it's either of the above, because otherwise it means Bobby is really dead and I'll have to deal with that during hiatus. 😭

I don't follow you with the whole 'bringing in a big name actor' if Bobby is really dead. I think by now the show is well-established and the actors are all very popular. They still have enough star power to keep going without Peter/Bobby. They might promote Ravi to a main character though. We have seen a lot of him lately.

Yeah, I'll be honest with you. I don't get the fans that actually want the show to be cancelled or that are talking about how 'deserving' it will be for Tim when the show gets cancelled.

Personally, I didn't care for 8x14, hated 8x15 and felt 'meh' about 8x16, but that doesn't mean that I would want the show to get cancelled because of three bad episodes. Quite the contrary. I want the show to pull itself together and keep going strong for a few more seasons. I love it too much to see it get cancelled so soon.

(Now, I do think that ABC needs to sit Tim Minear down and have a looong chat with him about his vision for season 9. They also need to make sure that he stays focused and doesn't deviate too much from the path he set out in the beginning of the season. That man needs to realise that structure is important when you make a TV-show.)

Also, 911 is a big TV show that employs a lot of people. Anyone wishing for it to get cancelled is basically saying that they would be okay with so many people losing their job. And over what? The death of a fictional character? I'm sorry, but that is an insanely selfish thing to wish for. 🤷‍♀️

I'm a big fan of people having their own opinions and talking about these opinions. It's okay to love, like, dislike or even hate an episode or a TV-show. Talk about it, share your opinions and look for others who think the same or who think the opposite. That's all great. But stay respectful when it comes to the people whose jobs would be on the line if the show would come to an end.

Now, looking at the numbers the second Nonny provided and the ratings of the latest episode, it is crystal clear that things like IMDB ratings or even a few less views won't affect this show in any major way. So I agree that 911 is not going anywhere anytime soon. I'm also thinking about 2 or 3 more seasons at this point. Who knows? Maybe even more. 🤷‍♀️

I had no idea that Angela is producing 911 Nashville. Thanks for the info Nonny. I can see how that would definitely keep her in the 911 universe. Interesting.

[llitchilitchi]

short little comic I drew in lectures

given Alexander's tendency to work a lot and sleep very little, especially earlier in his life, he likely had a tendency to doze every free moment he got (based off my own habit of falling asleep at my work table all the time) - and I wanted to draw something with it

[psilliguykai]

Happy [depending on your timezone belated-] 2nd birthday CCCC!!

I gotta eep now, but I might add some more thoughts tomorrow ^^

For now, thank you CCCC for being my intro to Chonny Jash, and thank you cj for all the awesome community and inspiration and joy you’ve brought me and so many other people. Your music and characters will always hold a special place in my Heart [haha] <33

[huidol]

happy valentines 👍 day

[froschli96]

You know what, fuck it, I have to speak my truth! (this is gonna be a rant, so anyone who actually likes assassin's creed revelations and/or the secret crusade, be warned or maybe don't read this at all)

remember how altaïr talks to king richard at the end of ac1, and richard is like "[humans] come into the world kicking and screaming, violent and unstable. it is what we are. we cannot help ourselves."? and how altaïr answers "no. we are what we choose to be." and how that ACTUALLY has meaning bc he himself was "violent and unstable" at the beginning of the game but he has learned and is now CHOOSING to be a better person who cares about others and humanity at large? remember how his calmness and gentleness was something that he ACQUIRED over the course of the story?

and remember how in revelations they then suddenly had a PRE-AC1 altaïr say about the first of his targets "no man should pass from this world without knowing some kindness." and be all wise and calm and collected during a nice little chat with al mualim, who suddenly acts all fatherly? (like, this is suddenly supposed to be a positive relationship? what??)

also, during the confession the target says to altair: "you put too much faith in the hearts of men, altaïr. [...] humans are weak, base, and petty." and altaïr answers: "no. our creed is evidence to the contrary." KJASJFJDKL???? like, it’s almost insulting how close this exchange is to the one with richard. you know, the one that was actually earned after a whole game of character development. like WTF??? cool congrats now that development means nothing. like, apparently that was just altaïr reverting BACK to being the exemplary assassin who understands and believes in the creed that he was apparently just born as. (i also hate how having a young inexperienced altaïr saying this implies that altaïr's faith in humanity is a sign of naivete instead of a sign of the wisdom he has gained after being confronted with counter arguments for a whole game, and also something that distinguishes the assassins from the templars who use humanity's supposed wickedness to justify controlling them like in AC1, but whatever)

altaïr’s development in AC1 mattered BECAUSE he is not NATURALLY a good person, it actually said something about humanity's capacity for both bad AND good and how humans don't have to be forced to be good through mind control bc they can by their own free will choose to be better when taught how and when allowed the freedom to grow. but no. apparently altaïr has just always been calm, wise and gentle. and he just sort of forgot about that during AC1 bc…. ? bc of adha?? bc of abbas???

oh don’t get me started on the whole abbas thing. (it doesnt even make sense that abbas is so hung up about his father and "his family’s honor", like what about the whole point of al mualim not allowing parents to be close to their children bc it would make them weak? like, my dude, you’re not supposed to HAVE any family aside from the brotherhood)

they used the throwaway character that had like 5 lines and made him into altaïr’s main antagonist in revelations… like, abbas wasn’t supposed to be this ONE dude who had personal beef with altaïr, he was just supposed to show how while altaïr’s revered by many, a lot of his brothers also hate him, bc 1) altaïr is a shitty person at this point and 2) bc there’s no real feeling of community and family in this version of the brotherhood, but just a pervasive sense of competition and jealousy — these assassins don’t care about their goal of safeguarding humanity bc they’re too hung up on petty squabbles and divided by rivalries (you know, the things that made malik hate altaïr even before solomon’s temple and that he overcomes in the end which enables him to forgive and to reconcile with altaïr so they can work together and stop al mualim? (you ever just think about "we are one. as we share the glory of our victories, so too should we share the pain of our defeat. in this way we grow closer. we grow stronger." and cry? bc i do. all the time. malik, the man that you are))

and now abbas is altaïr’s childhood best friend turned lifelong enemy?? like, bowden bent over backwards to come up with an explanation for why altaïr is an arrogant ass at the beginning of AC1, when the explanation is right there: he was raised to kill without asking questions and was constantly praised for how good he is at murder, which resulted in him becoming arrogant and disregarding human life. like, it doesn’t have to be some shakespearean family feud type shit. and guess what, this "simple" explanation actually plays into the story’s themes, who’da thunk!

(like, abbas might not have been a "fleshed out" character in AC1, but he had a specific function and now that function is gone. mr bowden, mr mcdevitt, you know characters are allowed to simply exist to tell us something about their worlds and the systems they live in and sometimes that’s more important and also more interesting than having every single character have a detailed backstory to explain all their behaviors, right?)

with all of this revelations loses all nuance in regards to the levantine brotherhood and also the creed in general. like, altaïr being a master assassin at the beginning despite being a terrible person and not actually understanding the creed is a criticism of the brotherhood and the creed itself. like, it said something about the order that someone like altaïr was able to get that high in rank, simply bc he's good at killing, which also tells us what is considered important in the al mualim era assassin order. when you make altaïr’s arrogance the result of his personal conflicts instead of how we was raised by a brotherhood that only valued one's ability to kill, you lose that characterization of the assassin order itself!

and by suddenly making al mualim a semi good "father figure" you also downplay his manipulation of not only altaïr but all those under his care. (altaïr says something about al mualim being "as a father" to him exactly twice in the codex, but he doesn’t mean by that that he WAS a father to him, what he means is that he was the CLOSEST THING he had bc HE DID NOT HAVE PARENTS, not because his mother died in childbirth and his father was executed when he was young btw, BUT BECAUSE IT WASN’T ALLOWED, like his parents actually lived but weren’t allowed to be close to him, he says he came to view al mualim’s "weak and dishonest" love as enough and even better BECAUSE HE HAD NOTHING ELSE, BECAUSE AL MUALIM ISOLATED HIS ASSASSINS FROM THEIR FAMILIES. al mualim "loved" him bc he was good at killing people for him! hm, i wonder if this could be trying to say anything about cults and indoctrination and the inherent contradiction in fighting for peace and free will by taking children away from their parents and raising them to become killers?? like, altaïr wasn't ~the special orphan boy~ taken in by al mualim bc his father died a hero's death, it was "the way of the order" to have al mualim be the closest thing to a parental figure for everyone to ensure absolute loyalty! altaïr saying al mualim was like his father is not supposed to make you go "oh, he must have actually been a good guy for altaïr to consider him a father", it should make you go "oh that's kinda fucked up that he considers the dude who made him into a killing machine and who manipulated him a sort of father figure"!)

and then in revelations they suddenly portray that relationship as positive and healthy??? like, it would be one thing to give it some nuance by delving into the psychology behind al mualim’s "love" and maybe showing how al mualim did care about altair in a complicated, fraught sort of way (like, you know, there’s a lot of interesting things you could say about al mualim at several points addressing altaïr as "my child" in AC1 and how that parallels Garnier referring to the people he drugged and abused as his "children", and what that says about how the templars view the people who they say they want to save and in whose best interests they supposedly act (in any case, al mualim doesn’t use that phrase because he has any real parental feelings but rather to patronize and to invalidate any objections, like in a "mother knows best" way))

but they even fucking DARE to parallel that relationship with that of altaïr and darim in revelations, by having the reflection in the puddle of darim hugging altaïr showing altaïr hugging al mualim…. like their relationship wasn’t inherently abusive but just tragically cut short because al mualim was just "corrupted by the apple"… like WHAT???? so it’s not the very real problems like grooming, manipulation and indoctrination and the hierarchical structure of the brotherhood itself (all of which are antithetical to the assassin ideology), it was just the evil apple all along. great. that’s DEFINITELY a lot more interesting.

god im sorry i really dont want to spread negativity but this is driving me INSANE. like, somebody please tell me im not crazy bc i feel like somehow most of the fandom is in agreement that revelations and the secret crusade have better storytelling and characterization than ac1.

SPEAKING OF WHICH, can we talk about how, even IF we completely ignore AC1 and treat revelations altaïr as his own character…. the narrative still doesn’t really work?

basically, the whole point of his story in rev is that "he gave his whole life to the brotherhood", this obsession led to him not using his time with his family which has him ending up dying alone in a dark library and this in turn makes ezio reevaluate his life choices…. except. he doesn’t? neglect? his family? or whatever? like, his devotion to the assassins is sort of painted as this tragic flaw that leads to a lonely death bc it supposedly comes at the cost of his family, but… his wife has joined the assassins, (at least) one of his sons is in the brotherhood and even when he goes to protect the assassins against the mongols, he takes his family with him (except for the son who stays behind bc he has a family of his own and who, ironically, ends up dying bc of that)… like, you can’t describe altaïr as a good husband and father in the database and have his son tell him that "everything that is good in me began with you, father" when they say goodbye, and then want to make us believe that he put his family behind the brotherhood and that that is a character flaw that leads to his tragedy.

because you HAVE to have a character’s tragedy be the result of a character flaw. like. that is how tragedies work. otherwise it just becomes tragedy for the sake of tragedy which is… boring bc it has no purpose. and we know it is SUPPOSED to have purpose bc ezIO FUCKING QUITS BEING AN ASSASSIN AFTER WITNESSING IT!

it’s like they want to have their cake and eat it, too — they didn’t want to actually make altaïr a bad husband/father, but still wanted to make his life a tragedy where he loses his family which is why instead they outsource all responsibility to abbas who now has to be the reason for ALL the deaths.

like, they try to make at least maria’s death kind of sort of the result of altaïr’s rashness or whatever but like… these guys KILLED THEIR SON and TOLD HIM THAT ALTAÏR HAD ORDERED HIS DEATH. like, altaïr losing it in response to that is not rash, it’s fucking logical and justified! if anything the scene made me angry at maria for trying to stop him. like, GIRL, he was YOUR son too??? but god forbid we give female characters actual real emotions, she has to fill the role of "voice of reason who dies for altaïr’s man pain" i fucking guess.

like, it’s this weird mix where his tragedy is simultaneously painted as his own fault but also not really bc abbas is the one responsible for all the shit that happens. it just… it just doesn’t really go together.

the only way to make his story make sense narratively and to give it actual purpose is by looking at it in the context of ezio’s story, bc the things he sees in altaïr’s memories are supposed to be a revelation (ha!) to ezio specifically. and i guess that’s maybe the crux of it all — altaïr’s story in revelations was conceived of first and foremost to support ezio’s story and development. which is probably also why many people maybe don’t notice bc, having skipped ac1 and started with ac2, the majority of people mostly care only about ezio and only really appreciate altaïr’s story in as far as it serves to push ezio forward. (tho i’ve also seen a few people say that ezio is also written kind of weird in rev, but i’ve never really been an ezio girly myself so i can’t speak to the truth of that)

like, altaïr dying alone in the library doesn’t really have to make sense for his character, i guess, bc it’s only really supposed to be a cautionary tale for ezio.

so, i guess, for once, they actually had a MAN dying for another man’s character development, which is pretty woke actually. ubisoft, i take everything back jksdsfjhgdsahfhsdhfghfdsgjhsdgjh

[ducktracy]

i don't think i ever fully shared my Potential Bob Clampett Encounter on here, did i... probably because i was too embarrassed to. it probably is just a series of coincidences, but it's still neat to think about. tldr Cool Profound Stuff happened when i visited his grave and in the days following

[cubedmango]

one difference between the original and cover for my clematis that rlly caught my attention earlier was which chara sang the very last lyrics—mizi (the one who survives) in the original and ivan (the one who dies) in the cover. ever since i noticed that i've been trying to make sense of why they did that. in the context of the song it makes more sense for the survivor (till) to sing those lines since they're at the very end, after the other contestant has been killed, but with the meaning of the lyrics ("please, stay by my side") it makes sense for ivan to be singing them, since he's the one with the one-sided love. it felt to me like ivan asking till to keep the memory of him alive and with him even after ivan died

when the cover for cure dropped imagine my surprise when i saw that they did the exact same thing again!! they gave the very last line sung by ivan (the one who dies) in the original to mizi (the one who survives) in the cover, and again i'm trying to understand why this exact swap happened a second time. for this one the context is more of those being the very last words ivan says to till (tho that segment isn't actually in the music video version), with the lyrics ("consume me / yes, me") reflecting that final desperation for till to notice him, but from mizi's perspective it takes on such a different meaning.. is it mizi trying to plead with sua to wake up? to look at her again? to still be the one person who knows and understands her? fascinating stuff. i'm unwell

[themyscirah]

Thinking about how Wonder Woman in the Pérez run/early 87 series really needed a secret identity. (Stick with me here!) Now, this isn't something that as a reader i would want (I've never had much interest in "Diana Prince") or that would be helpful for Diana's mission, and I actively think a true secret id would be something Diana would dislike immensely and hate to use and maintain. But I honestly think having one, at least at a limited level, would have saved Diana and her loved ones SO much pain down the road. Because while they loved Diana, her presence in their live brought so many villains back to their home which in turn hurt the people she cared about

Like I just think about all the horrible things that the Kapetelises (especially Vanessa, she was used as such a punching bag) went through just by virtue of loving Diana... Its truly awful the unintended consequences that came with loving her and taking her into their home, just because everyone knew she was Wonder Woman. Like this was very public knowledge, they were on the news all the time and newspaper and magazine covers and everything together

Which while cool still was damaging! I mean Nessie was in MIDDLE SCHOOL of all places and everyone knew she was hosting Diana. It was shown that whether or not most people at school wanted to be around her directly and saw her as interesting or desirable depended directly on Diana and if she was in town with them! And that's really just the tip of the iceberg there with Vanessa but she was put under so much pressure and given such awful conceptions of herself through her peers knowing she was close with Diana.

It's just such a mess. And like I don't think a secret identity would be something that she would ever think of having realistically at this point, especially because she's so new, and there isn't a strong and visible need for one, (and her public identity as ww was already attached to her loved ones) but I do think that many things may have turned out better for the Kapetelises later if they were publically joined by Diana Deneiros, Julia's niece from Greece, as opposed to Wonder Woman

[hal-boy]

My friend just told me that she is making a Muppet AU for her fandom (awesome), and demanded that I reveal to her which Metal Gear Solid character would be the obligatory human if they made Muppet adaptions of MGS. I didn't have a sufficient answer for her so I'm outsourcing: who do you fine folks think would be the best character to be a human in Muppet Gear Solid?