all the best kinds of craig

Things John Teaches Rosie
  • All the words to “Love Me Do” by the Beatles
  • How to break free if your wrists are zip-tied
  • Which kind of plaster is best for scraped knees
  • What to do to cheer up a sulking Consulting Detective: “Loud, silly, smacking kisses work best but if all else fails? Try tickling his toes.”
  • The difference between a Browning and a Walther pistol
  • How to properly introduce yourself with a firm handshake
  • Where to find help if you’re lost in London (aka CCTV camera locations) 
  • How to tell if it’s Uncle Mycroft or Greg coming up the stairs
  • The names of all the actors who’ve played James Bond: “Roger Moore was the best Bond, Rosie-bee, no matter what Papa may say about Daniel Craig.” 
  • Which brands of tea are best for everyday and special occasions
  • How to make risotto (peas optional) 
  • What tags to use when blogging about her day: #school #crime scene #Hudders bakes #I love Papa #obviously

[continued from this post]

CLYDE: OKAY here’s the follow up to my last post.

CLYDE: So yeah, Craig looked devastated, almost like he couldn’t decide what he was more angry about– his clothes or Eric for some reason??? even though Eric had nothing to do with the coffee??????? idk, man.

CLYDE: And like, Craig went all “Oh my god you buttface Tweek, ugh.” only it was more like “Holy shit! What did you do that for?!”

CLYDE: And so of course, Tweek immediately started to freak out for a number of reasons that don’t even really need to be listed.

CLYDE: At this point, everyone who was watching started to walk away because things were getting a little awkward, and they didn’t want to sit around for things to get any worse. I would have, too, but it was too good.

CLYDE: So but yeah, Tweek was like “What did I do that for?! I should be asking you the same question!!! WHAT WAS THAT?!?!?!?!?!”

CLYDE: Then Craig just said “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.” but he was obviously still angry.

CLYDE: Eric, just like the last five minutes of this exchange, was dying in the background.

CLYDE: This was the point where I tried taking a close up picture of Craig, which…

CLYDE: Y’know.

CLYDE: And then he threw my phone over the brick fence near by, like an asshole.

CLYDE: Anyways…

CLYDE: Craig started taking off his jacket cause the coffee was gonna soak through. 

CLYDE: Have I mentioned that Craig tucks his shirt into his pants? Because that’s hilarious. He’s like an old man.

CLYDE: So anyways, he started complaining and shit (like an old man) and said something like “Now my clothes are covered in your coffee and spit, dude!” then he took off his jacket and threw it onto the ground.

CLYDE: Then Eric started bursting with laughter even more. I think Kyle was getting angry at him. He looked like he was, anyways.

CLYDE: But then Eric just shouted, and I quote (perfectly, may I say) because it was pretty funny, “This can’t be the first time you’ve been covered in Tweek’s coffee and spit, Craig! Get it!!! Did you– did you get it, Craig? That’s a dick joke! Because– because your dick is probably covered
in spit and coffee, because you see, Tweek–”

CLYDE: He only got that far before Craig started stomping up towards Eric, and I was 100% sure that THIS time he’d beat Eric’s ass, but then Tweek stood in front of them both and said like (watch my perfect quoting again)

CLYDE: “Agggh, calm down! I don’t even understand what’s going on here! I can’t handle this, I dropped the rest of my coffee and now I have nothing to calm me down you two are going nuts what’s wrong I'm going to explode from pressure– oh my god, exploding is bad, I can’t explode, that shit’s dangerous!!–”

CLYDE: Hahahahaha, Tweek’s reasoning for everything is so insane, I love it.

CLYDE: But honestly, I could relate. Cause I was so confused, too. There was so much going on that I didn’t understand…

CLYDE: But yeah, then Craig was trying to calm Tweek down and was all like “Tweek, calm down! You’re not going to explode!”

CLYDE: I wish you guys could hear my voice, because I’m doing voices for these guys right now. People say Craig and I sound a lot a like, but that’s not true. I’m giving him a Macho Man Randy Savage voice.

CLYDE: Okay, so yeah, anyways…

CLYDE: After Craig said that, Tweek was just like “Tell me what’s going on!” but all Craig said in response was “This is all lard-butt’s fault!” and then freaking LAUNCHED himself at Eric. He kept avoiding answering what was going on, which was suspicious.

CLYDE: I was just a bystander, though! I can’t complain. The only question I should have been asking then was if anybody had any popcorn cause hahaha, oh man…

CLYDE: Nobody else was around, actually. Kyle, Stan, and Kenny all left after Kyle started getting mad. And everyone else left right after Tweek spat coffee all over everybody, like I said.

CLYDE: So I guess asking that question, while being extremely hilarious and awesome because I am both of those things, would have probably proved ineffective because nobody would be around to hear it.

CLYDE: Except for Tweek, Eric, and Craig, but asking them was kind of out of the question.

CLYDE: Man, was I hungry, though.


CLYDE: …Where was I…


CLYDE: Craig lunged at Eric!

CLYDE: …Or he tried to, and then Tweek started freaking out and held him back. Eric didn’t look like he was pleased about the fact that Craig was trying to beat him up.

CLYDE: Which is funny because Eric gets beat up a lot, I thought he’d be used to it by now.

CLYDE: But then the most insane thing happened! And by insane, I mean something totally awful and I’m glad I wasn’t involved because… well…

CLYDE: What was happening and what it looked like they were doing probably wasn’t the best thing to have the principal walk up on. 

CLYDE: Did I mention the principal is really tall? Like, taller than our old principle. Man, I miss Principal Victoria. Kind of.

CLYDE: I mean, she beat PC Principal, anyways.

CLYDE: But uh… yeah.

CLYDE: All three of them were shitting their pants in front of him. I think almost literally for Tweek.

CLYDE: And– and then


CLYDE: Okay I actually maybe shouldn’t share that part. Like, all of that just then, Craig and Tweek are already gonna have my ass about it when they find out I told you guys. 

CLYDE: Maybe you should ask Eric. He might even tell you what was actually happening, since he seemed to be the problem. But uh… yeah. To avoid getting my ass whooped even harder than it’s already going to be, I’m going to leave the principal part out. 

CLYDE: …To sum it up, though, the principal said some things, Eric said some things, Craig got in trouble, and then shortly after Craig and Tweek started to beat each other up, and then Tweek got in trouble too.

CLYDE: Man, it was awesome.

Mary’s portrayal in TST is so.. Sherlockian.

She is so good! Look, I’m fine with her coming with us on our cases, she’s better than you, John! She’s a “retired super-agent with a terrifying skill-set”, of course she’s better. She’s the best!
No one mentions that she killed me recently, well, it’s not a big deal!

There’s no reason for Mary to be on the case with Sherlock and John. It looks so FORCED. Boop, and she’s already at Craig’s house.
For me it looks like someone (Sherlock) deliberately makes her the part of all these events, because he’s telling a better story about Mary. For some reason (!).

Looks like Mary is dead, but we haven’t seen her real death yet.

What kind of fantasy is that.. Mary sacrificing herself for Sherlock? It is so fake, so unreal.

Sherlock gives Mary all the words he wanted (wants) to tell John. My darling. My love. You never judge, you never complain. I don’t deserve you. You’re so perfect.

He’s making the best out of Mary’s image. For a reason we’re still supposed to find out.

But what I love the most is that we’re reminded several times that she’s not perfect. She’s dangerous. She has connection to Moriarty. She’s a psychopath. And Sherlock definitely doesn’t like her. At all. Her redemption arc is fake as hell.

The plane scene with Mary in disguise.

Sherlock being sure that he’d found the Black Borgia Pearl, that everything is about Moriarty. But then it turned out that everything is about Mary.

Her posthumous “Miss me?” DVD. “Go to hell, Sherlock”.

All these details are for the audience to question everything, not to trust the surface reading of the episode.

Off-screen Post #17.a

Monday, 1/25/16 12:30 PM

JIMMY: And since you gave us all those photos, we can add music to help our appeal. We can use that song Lost Boy. It comes on the radio all the t-t-time. Now whenever people hear that song they will remember that Kenny’s missing.
KYLE: You really think this will help, Jim?
JIMMY: In these kind of situations you just have to hope for the best. How l-long did you say he’s been m-missing?
KYLE: Two weeks.

JIMMY: Two… weeks… great. This is coming along nicely, Kyle.
KYLE: Yeah… thanks for doing this, dude.
JIMMY: No sweat. Honestly I had no idea Kenny was missing until Craig told me so yesterday. And really that’s your whole problem. Word has not been travelling.

KYLE: Not travelling? We’ve been telling everyone Kenny’s been in contact with since he left. How’s that possible?
JIMMY: W-Well, no offense Kyle, but your group has a huge ego problem. People p-rrobably think you guys made the whole thing up to get attention.

KYLE: …So… people this is all some big joke.
JIMMY: No worries, pal. Once this video goes up on the school news everyone will take your story seriously. Everyone’s gonna be looking for Kenny.

JIMMY: Once Wednesday comes around, you’ll have Kenny back before you can say “Thank god Jimmy runs the school news!” 

KYLE: … … I… hope you’re right, Jimmy…


this really makes me sad af. i found out & almost cried. my mindless days were some of the best days of my life & my experience was one of a kind. I’ve shared so many memories w team mindless regardless if it was tumblr tm, twitter tm or ig tm. I met some of the best people because I was a fan of mindless behavior & to know that it’s really over for real really kinda hurts my heart. I’m almost 18 & I feel like I’m 14 again 😭 I wish them all the BEST of luck with whatever they decide to do. Jacob, Rayan, Chresanto & Craig. even EJ & the other boy that was added after Ray left. I’m so glad I had a group of people like them that showed me it was okay to be myself. it’s been real team mindless. love y'all man 😭💘 @mindlessbehavior @kidswithafros @trendy2wice

Tweek: Okay, well… My name’s Tweek, I’m 20 years old. Um… I’m really into supernatural stuff, My best friend is named Token, and I own a business with my mother.
Craig: Oh shit, really? You own a business?
Tweek: Yeah, have you noticed the bakery in town now? The Pastry Place? Me and my mom opened it about eight months ago. We got kind of famous over night for all the fun stuff we make. And yes, we also sell coffee.
Craig: So that’s how you afforded this house already. You’re a fancy businessman now.
Tweek: I suppose, haha. What have you been up to, Craig? I mean, where do you work now?
Craig: Um… Taco Bell. Hah. It’s kind of embarrassing compared to what you’ve got going on.
Tweek: Not at all! We’ve all got to start somewhere! if it wasn’t for my mom’s experience, I’d probably be in the same boat.

Critic’s Notebook: In Praise of the New Wave of TV Casting Inclusivity

Shows like ‘Queen Sugar,’ 'Greenleaf,’ 'Underground,’ 'Roots,’ 'Insecure,’ 'Atlanta’ and 'Luke Cage’ are exposing how much talent is out there.

A few isolated Twitter accusations that Marvel’s Luke Cage is racist for its lack of well-rounded white characters are the stuff of clickbait articles that I want no part of.  

Complaining that one or two (or even five or 10) current shows have become the inversion of the sort of racially imbalanced casting that Hollywood has relied on for over a hundred years on the big screen and for six or seven decades on TV is sadly hilarious and also taking exactly the wrong lessons from a trend I’ve been happily noticing over recent months. Rather than giving those few Twitter whiners a lecture on hegemony, I want to accentuate the positive.

After years of struggles to find even a few actors of color to play leads or even token roles, casting directors have suddenly been able to fill whole, multi-tiered casts with African-American actors, almost as if when the parts are created and suddenly became available, there turned out to be actors capable of filling them. Crazy, right? And it’s been practically one new show or miniseries every few weeks, so it’s not like the same 15 actors are popping up in everything. In fact, there’s almost no overlap at all, either among the actors or the casting directors bringing them together.

In some cases, it’s entirely unknown actors getting their first shots at regular TV work. In other cases, it’s veteran character actors reveling in the most substantive ongoing work of their careers. Sometimes the actors have been brought over from across the pond, but mostly they’re being found in our own domestic production backyards, the places you tend to find actors who want to work.

We/I write so much about struggles and failures of inclusivity in TV casting that I wanted to write something in praise of the stars and casting directors on such TV vehicles as:

Roots — None of its individual stars were nominated for Emmys, which says more about the depth of the limited series/miniseries category than anything else, but the casting team (led by Victoria Thomas, Leo Davis and Lissy Holm) got a well-earned Emmy. Whether they’re new discoveries or just under-recognized actors getting a big and visible platform, performers like Malachi Kirby, Emayatzy Corinealdi, Emyri Crutchfield, Regé-Jean Page, Michael James Shaw and many more should get a huge career boost from their Roots work.

Underground — WGN America’s antebellum series is all historical, so it may have scared away big audiences, but what if I tell you that it’s just a great action series that happens to use the Underground Railroad as a backdrop? Giving Aldis Hodge and Jurnee Smollett-Bell, who look and act like they ought to be A-listers but “somehow” aren’t, the kind of lead roles they’ve long deserved is one of the show’s big achievements, but all additional exposure for actors like Johnny Ray Gill, Alano Miller, Chris Chalk, Amirah Vann and more is a plus, so kudos to casting directors Kim Coleman, Eric Dawson, Carol Kritzer and Robert J. Ulrich.  

Greenleaf — OWN’s summer sleeper hit got a boost from a recurring turn from Oprah Winfrey, but the show should be hailed for giving Keith David and Lynn Whitfield some of the best material of their careers as well as a supporting cast of less familiar actors culled by casting directors Craig Fincannon, Lisa Mae Fincannon and Kim Coleman.

Queen Sugar — Hail director and creator Ava DuVernay and also casting director Aisha Coley, because this OWN drama should provide breakouts for the likes of Dawn-Lyen Gardner, Dondre Whitfield and particularly Kofi Siriboe, as well as the myriad writers and directors given opportunities to shine here.

More at THR

anonymous asked:

Tyler is a jock and Craig is a nerd. One day Tyler sees Craig getting bullied in the hallway, and he steps in to save him. From that day on, Tyler protects Craig and acts like a body guard. He starts getting feelings for Craig, and asks him out. ^3^

For as long as Tyler had been a jock, he didn’t necessarily figure himself a part of that group.

Yes, he was loud and blunt, obscene at times, and more than a little obnoxious, but he was kind hearted, and honestly a giant teddy bear.

You would never hear him admit it though.

Not to say that all jocks are spiteful. In fact, his best friend was a jock, and Tyler was pretty sure that Evan was the nicest and most well meaning guy he knew.

He didn’t consider the other guys his friends; they were merely teammates and he typically avoided them. And while he hadn’t openly seen any instance of it himself, he knew that they mercilessly teased and harassed specific circles within the school.

It was a Tuesday, Tyler remember specifically, when he finally saw the bullying. There was three of them, and he recognized them immediately. They were surrounded a boy who had curly blond hair and glasses on his face. Tyler had seen him around, he was sure, but he had no idea what his name was.

The kid wasn’t exactly short, but the three guys towered over him, jabbing fingers in his direction and spouting insults in his face. The kid looked hunched in on himself, like he realized that he was outnumbered and standing up for himself may lead to more physical avenues of torture.

Tyler felt this overwhelming need to protect this boy, to make sure that these asswipes never bother him or anyone else again.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He shouted as he drew himself up to his full height. He was 6'5" and knew how intimidating he looked. Also, these guys knew him as the star center, and damn well knew that he was not to be messed with.

They turned and their eyes widened slightly with confusion, as if they thought it was odd that their teammate would defend the tiny nerd.

“Wildcat, we were just talking to…”

“Tell it to someone who fucking believes your bullshit, Smith.” Tyler growled. “Get the fuck out of here. Bother him again, and you’ll be answering to me.”

They heard the threat in his voice, and saw the promise in his eyes. Their own eyes downcast, the three thugs scampered down the hallway.

“You didn’t have to do that. I could’ve handled it.” The boy said, turning to him and fixing him with a raised brow.

Tyler scoffed. “Right. You were handling it.”

The kid narrowed his eyes. “Look, I appreciate whatever the hell that was, but I don’t need a big, bad, bodyguard, Tyler. Thanks but no thanks.”

Tyler was surprised that he knew his name, and immensely guilty that he couldn’t return the favor.

“Who said anything about being a bodyguard? Will you settle for friends?” Tyler extended the invitation.

The boy opened his mouth to answer just as another boy sidled up to him. He was black, with a shaved head and lean frame. His name is Marcel, he thinks. “This guy bothering you, Miniladd?” Tyler was being glared at.

“Oh for fucks sake,” and the boy, Miniladd apparently, threw his arms up. “No, Marcel. He isn’t. And again, I don’t need a fucking bodyguard!” He stomped off, his books clutched tightly to his chest.

Marcel jabbed a finger in his direction. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but Mini doesn’t need anymore grief. Especially from you or your boys.”

Tyler was taken aback but the protectiveness of the boy, but glad that Miniladd had someone like him as a friend. “You don’t know me then, guy. They aren’t my boys. We play on the field together and that’s the extent of it. And you don’t have to worry about me.”

He turned on his heel and left the other boy in the hallway. He was late for Biology anyway.

From that day on, Tyler found every excuse to find Mini and either walk with him in the hallway, or sit with him at lunch. Mini was suspicious of course, but allowed the new arrangement after a few days of grumbling about secret service agents.

Naturally, Tyler wanted to make sure his threat to the other guys was taken seriously. But as he spent more time with the boy, the more he liked him. He was smart and funny. He was quick witted and wouldn’t hesitant to give it as well as Tyler dished it.

He admired the boy, and maybe had a little bit of a crush.

One Saturday, after practice and a few weeks after the hallway incident, Tyler called Mini and invited him over to play games with him and Evan. Mini asked if he could bring Marcel, and Tyler grudgingly obliged, knowing that Evan was also bringing a friend that went to the private school up the road. Tyler wasn’t crazy about Marcel, but the dude could be funny at times.

Mini and Evan hit it off immediately, and Tyler tried not to be jealous. He really did.

Brock was quieter, but his laugh got Tyler’s attention more than once and he found himself really enjoying the other guy’s company.

There was a break in their gaming, when Marcel had to take a call(loudly he might add) and walked into the next room. Evan and Brock decided to go order pizza for the group and Evan led him to Tyler’s room to use his laptop.

Which left only Mini and Tyler alone in the room, sitting next to each other on the loveseat. The silence was awkward for the first time.

“Tyler,” Mini started, his eyes cast down at his wringing hands. “I have to know something.”

“What is it, Craig?” Mini hesitated when he heard his real name. Tyler learned it from Marcel a few days prior, and was waiting for the right moment to let Mini know that he knew. That he wanted to know everything he could about him.

“Why do you want me as your friend? You’re a jock, one of the most popular guys in school. Up until two weeks ago, I’m pretty sure you didn’t even know I existed, let alone knew what my name was. So why me?”

“Seriously?” Tyler was flabbergasted. How could this amazing person not realize how great he was? Tyler envied him, wished he was more like the boy that was sitting in front of him. Mini was slowly becoming everything to Tyler and he felt the urge to tell him exactly that. “Goddammit, Mini. I could think of 100 reasons why I want you as a friend and 100 more reasons of why I wished you were more. Don’t ever think so lowly of yourself. You’re right in that I didn’t know who you were, and honestly, I regret missing so much time that I could have spent with you. You’re fucking amazing, Miniladd. You’re so smart, smarter than I could ever be. And you’re hilarious. You always have a comeback ready to strike and you don’t give a shit what other people think of you. At least not as far as I can tell.”

Mini was stunned into silence, his eyes wide and contemplative. Tyler stared back, his chest heaving slightly from the admission.

“You wish we were something more?”

Tyler rolled his eyes. Of all the things… “That’s not important, Mini. We’re talking about you.”

“No, it is important.” Mini turned his entire body to face Tyler completely. “And I do give a shit what people think. Mainly you.”

“Why do you care what I think?” Tyler asked incredulously.

“Cause I fucking like you, you daft doorknob. And I’m assuming, based on your confession, that you like me as well.” Mini placed his hand on Tyler’s cheek. “Am I wrong?”

Tyler shook his head and leaned into the touch before closing the distance. Their lips glided together seamlessly, noses bumping as they tried to find their rhythm. Tyler ran his tongue along Mini’s bottom lip and sucked it between his teeth.

Mini’s small gasp had him grinning against his lips.

“So whenever you guys stop making out, can we get back to the game?” Evan said from the doorway, interrupting their moment.

“Sure thing, Señor Cockblock.” Mini was quick on the uptake, as per usual.

Marcel came back in and simply sighed as he put the puzzle pieces together (Not that it was difficult with their messy hair and swollen lips. Or the fact that they were sitting impossibly close.).

“Of all the people, Mini, you went for the jock. Delirious is going to be fucking pissed.” He said and Mini ruffled Tyler’s hair playfully.

“Not all jocks are bad. And as for Jonathan…” He saw Mini glance in Evan’s direction. “I’m thinking he’s gonna get over it soon.” There was something Tyler didn’t know, and he didn’t like not being in the loop, especially when it came to his best friend.

“Hey, Evan? Seen Jon lately?” Mini asked him, and Tyler nearly fell out of his chair at the blushed on Evan’s cheeks. He had no idea who this Jonathan was.

“Who are we talking about?” He asked the room.

“Evan’s new boyfriend.” Marcel supplied. “He goes to school with Brock apparently and Brock introduced them. We’ve been friends with Delirious since we were kids. He doesn’t fucking shut up about Evan. That’s how we know.”

Tyler filed this information away for later.

Right now though, he just wanted to make out with Minladd.

“Hang on. Did you just call me a doorknob?”


Craig DiGregior, who’s the head writer of the show, he came up with the idea of Chet. I suggested that maybe, though he grew up for the most part in Elk Grove, his fictional town, perhaps he really was born in Detroit. So I gave him the last name of Kaminski just to honor all these Poles from Detroit we all grew up with. Sadly, he’s not a very bright guy. But I think that has more to do with the kind of parts they usually cast me in than who he was. He is Ash’s best pal. They grew up together. Ash became a little bit of something because Ash actually got a job. But Chet was such a schmo that he never even went that far.  On his weekends and in his free time, which he has plenty of, he makes drinks laced with ketamine for his buddies. – Ted Raimi


I’ve loved Craig Ferguson ever since I saw the extraordinary monologue he did on his alcohol addiction. I thought, “Wow, I can’t believe he used that space to say that." It had the kind of power that only comes from that moment when the goofy guy gets serious. I had instant respect for him and watched the show ever since. The Late Late Show never got great ratings, but it’s audience was cult-ish, like all the best entertainment is. He was absurd. He loved Doctor Who. He had John Green and Neil Gaiman on as guests. He was one of us. Craig loved and hated the job and made us aware of both. He did that rarest of all things in the slog that is late night TV: left us wanting more. 

Stan: Of course I’m Kyle’s best man! We’ve had that planned since like kindergarten. They’re going to have it next summer, so we gotta wait a year- but we’ll have plenty of time to plan it all out.
Craig: I’m gonna guess the ‘will you attend’ question was for me.
Stan: Probably.
Craig: I didn’t even know, so- I kind of wasn’t invited. 

Kyle: Get in here or you’re not getting your god damn cookies!
Stan: Oh shit. I better get to the kitchen.

TGON Reads - It’s Kind of a Funny Story, Ned Vizzini.

You know what isn’t funny? Suicide. You know what is funny? This book. Ned Vizzini captures perfectly all the pain,suffering, frustration, and in retrospect, cruel irony, that comes with being a teenager with clinical depression.

Our main character, Craig, gets accepted to a prestigious New York High School, and from there, everything else goes downhill. He decides his only way out - death. Before he throws himself off the Brooklyn Bridge, he calls a suicide hotline, and before you know it, he’s admitted to a psych ward, and since the teenage floor is under renovation, Craig is introduced to the adult ward called Six North, with people of every age, race, and background. Vizzini perfectly captures the voice of a 15-year-old boy, and I’m particularly a fan of his present-tense perspective. He masters the feeling of sucking you into the world he’s created, and you laugh, cry, suffer, eat, and grow right next to Craig.

Vizzini also succeeds in creating a cast of supporting characters that are just as unique and lovable as people in the real world. It sheds light on people with mental illness, as just as normal, endearing, and funny as you and I. Each member of Six North teaches Craig a different lesson, and he comes to see that life isn’t all about grades, books, prestigious high schools, and stress. It’s about music, art, friendships, and everything else is simply a side effect.

Coming of age stories are a classic trope, but this one puts a modern humorous spin on it that surely appeals to the masses. It’s funny, down to earth, and at times, incredibly raw.

It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini

Length: 444 pages

Favorite Quote: “Life can’t be cured, but it can be managed.”

Best time and place to read it: In a hospital waiting room.

If you liked this check out: “Teen Angst? Naaah…” by Ned Vizzini, “Get Well Soon” by Julie Halpern, “Thirteen Reasons Why” by Jay Asher


anonymous asked:

I would love a fic imagining Jamie, during Claire's surgery after having been shot in MOBY, remembering all the other times he almost lost her, and being super angsty. Maybe when she broke her leg in Voyager, her illness, kidnapping, after Faith, even back to the witch trial and when he first took her back to Craig Na Dun.

Denny had left - his work done, desperately needing a bath - and, despite his faith, a restorative whisky. He’d squeezed Jamie’s shoulder as he quietly exited the room, trying his best to impart some kind of strength.

Poor man had no idea that the source of Jamie’s strength lay nestled in blankets on a borrowed bed, chest rapidly rising and falling in shallow breaths, deep in an  uneasy sleep.

Jamie couldn’t bear to touch her - but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Why? Why, after all this time, all these years, all the terrifying experiences they had shared on and off battlefields in Scotland and America - all the chances that had come and gone - had it been *her*? He had killed men in cold blood - at the bidding of his chief, his king, his clan, his generals. She patched men up - sought to undo the same actions he had done, to bring men away from death.

Even in the dim candlelight he saw her face sheened with sweat. He had to do something - had to comfort her, had to ease her excruciating pain. Pain she was in because of him. Because of the stupid, idiotic choice he’d made to play the general, to join yet another army, fight yet another war, kill even more men - or lead young, trusting men to their deaths.

Quietly he rose and softly crossed the eight creaky floorboards that separated him from his heart. Dipping a handkerchief in the basin of fresh water Denny had thoughtfully left behind, he gently dabbed at Claire’s forehead, then rolled up the handkerchief and lay it horizontally across her sweaty brow.

Was it a fever? Oh God, he hoped not. Or was she just warm? The air in the room was so damned *still*…

Even near death, she was still the most beautiful woman - the most beautiful creature - he’d ever seen, his children and grandchildren included. Surely God would not rob life from such a wonder of creation…

He hadn’t before. Not all the times when she’d been near death - most of which, he realized with a wince, were because of him.

That terrible time when they lost Faith - she said that it would have happened even if he hadn’t been so full of stupid pride, but he disagreed. She had almost died, because of him. He so regretted he had been such a coward and hadn’t been by her side through her healing. As always, he felt a pang of regret knifing through his heart that he had never seen - never held - the silent wonder of his first daughter.

The time she had killed her heart, when he sent her back to the Englishman. She was ill - from malnourishment in the final, desperate days of the Rising, and from the passage through the stones, and then the morning sickness from carrying Brianna. The thought of being back with Randall had made her physically ill. Because of him.

The time she had broken her leg on that ship which had taken them to Georgia. It had been more of an annoyance, but she’d been bedridden. Because of him.

The time she had been abducted, and abused, and raped. Because of him - his position on the Ridge, and his decision to make whisky.

The time she had lain so ill, her hair shorn in punishment, because of Malva. Because of him - because Malva wanted him. Wanted his power, his position.

And now. She lay, panting, sweating, in so much pain, because of him.

He couldn’t bear looking at her face any longer - so he softly, tenderly took her hand, shocked at the clamminess.

His big, blunt thumb traced the deep grooves of her palm. It reminded him of that fortune-teller he’d met in that Paris taven, so many lifetimes ago.

Nine times, she had said. You will die nine times before you lie in your grave.

And how many times had he died? There was when he had the smallpox as a lad - the same fever that had killed Willie. Then when he was flogged at Fort William. Then when Dougal had brained him with the ax. Then Wentworth. Then Culloden. Then when he was flogged at Ardsmuir - but that didna really count, as it hadn’t been as terrible. Then when Laoghaire had shot him. Then when he’d been bitten by the snake. Then - well, maybe this one didna count as well, but the time when Claire thought he’d died at sea, and had married John Grey.

Seven times, then. To Claire’s six.

They were one flesh. They had died thirteen times.

By that arithmetic, one of them was already dead.

Not her. Please, God - not her.

His tears dropped soundlessly on their joined palms as he prayed fervently, desperately, pleadingly, hoping that that damned gypsy had been wrong.

Clyde: Alright, we have some pretty prying questions up next. Don’t go too deep on the poor dude, okay guys? When it comes to feelings most the time he doesn’t have any.
Craig: Thank you, Clyde. Just let me see them already.

Craig: Did I genuinely love him? What kind of question is that? Of course I did. My actions might not have always showed it, I might not have said it as often as I should have, but Tweek is one of the few people I ever really did feel that way for.

Craig: I mean how could I not? He always cared so much. He always tried so hard. He was this true and unique person who always believed in me even when I didn’t in myself, you know?
Craig: I still remember the moment I realized how strong those feelings really were. I played my guitar for him for the first time. He could tell how terrified I was, I’m sure. My fingers were fumbling and I messed up the words. Still, he said…

You’re going to do SO MANY great things!

Craig: In fact, when we had that last fight… I said all kinds of terrible things to him. I actually got angry and yelled at him for the first time in my life. He cried. He never cries. I… I broke his heart. And I don’t mean just romantically. But as a best friend- as the companion he always wanted to be there. He entrusted me with his feelings, and I broke that trust. 
Craig: Still, the last thing he said to me before we parted ways that night…

“You’re going to do so many great things.”

Craig: So… of course I loved him genuinely. Of course there’s always going to be a part of me that does.
Craig: Why do you think I couldn’t change the title of this damn blog? He named it this. This was something he started before everything went to shit. It would have felt like killing the last piece of him I’ve got if I changed it, though sometimes I think I should.
Craig: Because what if he decides to check back on this old blog one day and he like-

Craig: I tried so hard because I wanted to make him proud, you know? When we met again I wanted him to be proud of me. 
Craig: I don’t want him to know what a failure I’ve become.
Clyde: Hey man, it’s gonna be okay. Listen, no more of this blog thing for today, alright?
Craig: Yeah. Alright.

[Deleted by Craig]


CLYDE: Here, to make it easy, I drew a picture.

CLYDE: This is me. I’m super cool and kinda small but thats okay, I’m still gonna grow.

CLYDE: This is Craig. He’s my best friend and he’s really tall and he’s in love with Tweek so they hang out together a lot. He’s still my best friend though!

CLYDE: This is Token. He’s kind of like my mom sometimes and he looks out for all of us. He’s really nice and probably my second best friend if you don’t count Craig.

CLYDE: And this is Jimmy! He’s really funny and he likes the same video games as me so he’s automatically really really awesome.

“When Jon Stewart started, nobody knew [who he was]. Now I’m starting, nobody knows. People have a right to not like me and people have a right to like me but at the same time I want to be enjoying it as much as possible.”
- Trevor Noah, The Indepedent | 2015.10.30  

I do think that’s the right attitude to have: work hard and leave the haters behind. But… 

With all due respect to Trevor, his situation is not as simple as he might think. When Jon started in 1999, he was replacing Craig Kilborn (who was quite an ordinary fellow doing an ok job). Jon had a ton of hay to play with, and he spun the show into gold, he elevated himself as some kind of a magical force to be reckoned with. 

Now Trevor has to live with a legacy. He has to somehow find a way to live up to the 16 years of dedication and integrity Jon brought to the table and be the best he can possibly be. It’s not just a matter of having a different world view based on his own experiences or having fun by changing the show to be less about politics. Satire is a subtle form of expression, first, and it’s a form of expression that, I’m sorry, works best with politics. If he wants to change the format to show more diversity of subjects, he will have to work extra hard to get people to listen as they listened to Jon.

And Jon earned more than just people’s trust and respect. He earned their love, their affection. Trevor must try to do the same or I’m afraid he’ll get lost into the late-night sea.

(Sorry about the little rant here. That’s just what I had to say. Thanks for reading and please carry on.)

anonymous asked:

What are your views on Cryde (Craig and Clyde)? PS I love your analysis and discussions, they're so intelligent, in-depth and interesting.

B: It’s really cute

I’m sure everyone notices that these two are usually together, talking with one another. 

Crack Baby Athletic Association, Stick of Truth, Last of the Meheecans, these guys were on the same side. It’s kinda cute because they’re usually on Cartman’s side, so it’s like, they’re the henchman duo. And it works because they’re similar in personality and voices. 

This is one of those pairings where they’re like always doing background stuff, so it’s like they’re kind of implied to be friends. But it’s also strengthened by the fact that in Stick of Truth when Clyde betrayed the human side, Craig also decided to betray Cartman, with no prior motive except for the fact that Clyde asked him to. Craig’s the only one that switched over with Clyde.

It’s implied that they’re best friends. And the fact that they’re so similar and even speak the same way makes this all the more cuter. Cute ship 10/10

CRAIG: Jesus Christ…

CRAIG: I guess that stupid video went viral or something.

CRAIG: I just didn’t expect you guys to find out about this whole mess…

CRAIG: Well for starters, I did go right after the whole thing.

CRAIG: Token offered to drive me after calming me down.

CRAIG: Granted we couldn’t do anything except sit in this barren hallway while surgery went down.

CRAIG: Surgery. Can you believe that?

CRAIG: Well I guess if that video got a good shot of the whole thing—it’s pretty easy to believe.

CRAIG: God…I keep having nightmares about the whole thing. I can barely sleep without remembering everything that happened.

CRAIG: Ugh, I’m rambling.

CRAIG: Good news is the only fatal thing was the blood loss—which he survived.

CRAIG: Thank god.

CRAIG: Surgery went perfectly fine according to the doctor.  Visitors were allowed since yesterday.

CRAIG: I can’t do it though.

CRAIG: I get to the elevator and freeze up and bail.

CRAIG: I don’t know if I can face him after all of this.

CRAIG: He was right—what kind of best friend am I?

Craig: Oh, you mean this one? It’s of my best friend- here, I’ll get a better shot.

Craig: His name’s Clyde. We’ve been best friends since like… kindergarten. By now he’s more like a brother to me than a friend. Him and our other bud Token both, actually. We all went to school together.
Craig: Token recently left for college, though. Me and Clyde have been closer than ever since. He even got me my job at Taco Bell when things started getting tough for me. He brings food on his breaks sometimes.
Craig: I think he’s been worried.
Craig: Anyway, he’s a fucking goofball. The kind of guy that thinks fart jokes are a comedy goldmine and regularly makes a fool of himself while trying to be cool.
Craig: But I’m glad I have a friend like him. Especially now.