and the light on david was awful

8

CS AU: The knights of Misthaven finally catch the infamous Captain Hook and bring him to your majesties, Queen Snow and King David and her royal highness, Princess Emma, so he can pay for his crimes. But what if he’d met the young princess before? What if they fell in love?

Coffee (Daveed x Reader)

Masterlist

Request- “Hi! If you do hamilcast imagines can you do a Daveed x Reader where the hamilcast ships them together and always tease them and one day during a ham4ham Lin finds a way to make them finally get together?”

Words- 2,174

You laid down on the floor of the recording studio. You’d just recording one of the hardest songs on your new album and decided and break was needed now. Your producer came in to talk to you. 

“Proposal.” he said.

“Shoot.” You open your eyes, but you did take your headphones out. That was enough attention wasn’t it. 

“We should have some guests on this thing. Some featured vocalists.” he explained. 

“If you trying to convince me to have Pitbull on my album, it’s a done deal.” you said. 

Your producer laughed. “Not Pitbul…but a rapper isn’t a bad idea. Know anybody?” 

Your mind wandered to all the friends you had on Broadway, and how that included some from Hamilton. You smiled at your producer. 

“I know a few people.” you said with a smile. 


You wandered up to the Richard Rogers theater. They had just gotten done with their matinee performance, and you were taking a coffee break from recording, so you figured you’d visit. There was a huge crowd outside the door. Some of them recognized you and asked for pictures, which you happily obliged to. You walked up the theater and addressed the guard there. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N L/N? I told Jasmine I was coming.” you said. 

“Y/N!” You heard pounding and then Jasmine emerged on the stairs, her stage makeup still on. Anthony followed behind her with a smile on his face. When she reached you she instantly threw her arms around you. You grinned and hugged her back. 

“It’s so good too see you!” you squealed. Jasmine released you, a huge grin was slapped on her face. “Anthony!” You turned to him and wrapped your arms around him as well.

“Hey Y/N.”  

“C’mon you have people to see!” Jasmine grabbed your arm and pulled you up the stairs. You and Anthony both laughed and followed her. You said hi to all the people you knew and got introduced to some new people. 

“How does she have so much energy?” you murmured to Anthony. 

“I have no idea.” he said back. “We just got off stage, everyone’s so tired, except her. Your like an energy source for her.” 

You and Anthony shared a laugh. The three of you walked up to his dressing room together. 

“I think Daveed’s taking a nap.” Anthony said. He walked in and turned the lights on. “Wake up! Y/N’s here!” he said. You heard a groan, and you and Jasmine walked into the room. Daveed was lying on a couch with a Jefferson pillow under his head. He was wearing jeans but no shirt, and he had definitely been sleeping. Nice. 

You walked over and sat on his back. “Thanks for the welcome wagon David!” you said, purposely mispronouncing his name to piss him off. 

“Haah you’re funny.” He said. 

“I know.” You took a sip of your coffee and got off of him. He stood up and smiled at you. 

“Aw wow, you didn’t have to get me coffee!” he took the white cup out of your hand and started drinking it. 

“No Daveed! That was mine!” You reached for it, but he put it up above his head. He was so tall, there was no way you were getting it. You looked at Anthony, but he just shrugged with a smile on his face and his arm around Jasmine. You glowered and reached for your cup from Daveed. He smiled and kept it out of your reach. You crashed into his chest. He laughed and put your cup down on the small table by the bed. He put his arms around you in a hug, and you rested your on his back. You put your chin on his chest and looked up at him. 

“You’re too tall.” you said. 

He grinned at you. “Can’t help it.” 

There was a soft knock on the door. “Did I hear Y/N’s voice?” You turned to see Lin smiling in the doorway with a smile on his face. 

“Lin!” you shouted. You walked over and hugged him. He spun you around and you giggled. 

“How are you?” He asked once you pulled away. 

“Well, I was great until someone,” You glared at Daveed,” drank all my coffee.” 

“You owe her a new one.” Lin said. 

“Okay.” He turned around and shrugged a Oakland T-shirt on. What a shame. 

“Wait actually?” you asked. He nodded. “Can you escape?” you asked, thinking of the crowd outside. 

“I’ll manage.” he laughed and grabbed his wallet.

“Perfect! I have something to ask you anyway.” you said. Lin, Anthony, and Jasmine all shared looks.

“Really? You’re just taking her from us? She just got here.” Lin said, but he had a smirk on his face. 

“I’m not taking her.” Daveed said. He walked over to you.  “This is taking her.” he said. He bent and down picked you up, slinging you over his shoulder. 

“Oh my god!” you screamed. Daveed ran all the way down the stairs laughing with you on his shoulder.  He set you down in front of the door, and you walked out to get coffee together. 


Lin stood at the top of the stairs, watching you and Daveed walk out together.

“Lin?” Anthony asked with a worried voice. “What are you thinking?” 

Lin fiddled with the ring on his finger. “They really need to get together.” he said. 

“Watcha talking about?” Pippa came around the corner with a smile on her face.  

“Daveed and Y/N?” Jasmine said. 

“Ooooh! Are they dating yet?” she asked sincerely. 

“No.” All three of them said. 

“I mean I can’t tell if they like each other or not, but they seem close don’t they?” Jasmine said. 

“Y/N’s close with everybody.” Renée said suddenly. 

“Jesus christ, this stairwell is becoming a fire hazard.” Chris said. The group piled into the the nearest dressing room, which Oak happened to be sitting in. 

“Great!” Lin clapped his hands together. “Another opinion.” Oak looked up questioningly. “Y/N and Daveed. Ship it or rip it?” 

“Ship it.” Oak said. “I don’t think they’re into each other like that though.” 

“They just don’t realize how cute it would be.” Philippa said. 

“Yes…” Chris warned. “But we should meddle…should we?” 

He looked around at the contemplative faces.  

“We should.” Lin said.


After the madness of getting out of the theater and actually finding a coffee shop, you both stood of to the side waiting for your coffee.

“So what did you have to ask me?” he turned you. 

“Oh!” you said excitedly. “My producer wants a featured artist on my album. He was thinking a rapper. You in?” you asked eagerly. 

“You sure?” 

“What do you mean am I sure? You’re like the best rapper I know.” 

“You don’t know a lot of rappers, Y/N.” he said with a smile. 

“Okay true,” you said “but that doesn’t make you any less good.” You tugged on his arm. “Pleeeassse?” you asked with a puppy dog face. Daveed laughed and looked away from you. 

“Of course.” 

“Yes!” you fist pumped. He laughed at your silliness. His smile was so big and bright. 

“David?” the barista called. Daveed sighed deeply. You couldn’t help it and burst out laughing.


Working with Daveed had brought the two of you a lot closer. Hours in the studio together had really strengthened your friendship…and your growing crush on him. It was hard not to fall for him when his smile could light an entire country, and he laugh was the greatest sound you’d ever heard. You wold go on little coffee runs together always, and he always paid because “I’m in Hamilton, Y/N, I have money.”, which was total bullshit. 

You sat at a desk with your headphones on. Several other people were in the room, but you were privately going over Daveed’s vocals in the song, smiling to yourself. 

Suddenly Daveed was leaning against your desk with a grin. You pulled your headphones of. 

“Icecream?” he raised his eyebrows. You looked over at your manager who was leaning against the wall. You gave her pleading eyes. She sighed and nodded. You grin and got out of the chair. 

You and Daveed walked out of the ice cream shop and decided to walk to Richard Rogers. Daveed needed to be there soon, and you did not want to go back to work yet. You both sat in the couch on eating your ice cream. Jasmine walked in and gave an appraising look to both of you. 

“Y/N, you have chocolate on your face.” she said. 

“What?” You started wiping at your face. 

“Here.” Daveed swipe his thumb on the corner of your mouth. Your breath hitched. 

Just then, Lin walked in. “Just who I wanted to see! Y/N, I need a favor.” 

“Okay?” You raised your eyebrows at him. 

“Daveed too actually!” Lin said, excitedly. “Can you guys do ham4ham tomorrow?” 

“What are we doing?” Daveed asked. 

“Empire State of Mind.” Lin grinned. 

“Okay.” 

“I guess.” 

“Sweet! Just make sure you know the lyrics, You’ll probably do it accapella.” Lin winked and left the room. You gave Daveed a confused look. He just shrugged and ate his ice cream. 


You arrived at the Richard Rogers ridiculously early that morning so that no one would see you coming in and ruin the ham4ham surprise. You took the liberty of sleeping with Daveed’s favorite Jefferson pillow, mostly because it smelled like him. 

You were awoken by an grinning Lin. 

“You’re on in 15, sunshine.” You groaned and pushed his face away. Then you felt a weight on you back. 

“Payback’s a bitch.” Daveed said. You groaned and shoved your face into his Jefferson pillow. “Come one, you can’t tired when you sing.” He got off of you and practically dragged you off the couch. You checked the mirror to make sure you didn’t look tired. You and Daveed ran through the song once. You did some vocal warmups. Lin came in again and announced it was time. 

You were waiting with Daveed on the other side of the stage door. 

“We have a really special guest for you today! She’s about to drop a new album that one of our own is featured on. Y/N and Daveed!” Lin’s voice rang through. He pounded on the door. You and Daveed walked out smiling. The crowd was huge and they were cheering wildly. 

“I SHIP IT!” someone screeched over the crowd. 

“Me too!” Lin said clapping. You gave him an incredulous look. The crowd went absolutely batshit. You covered your face in your hands, and Daveed just laughed. 

Lin had everyone start a beat, and soon Daveed launched into the first verse. He kept looking at you with a smile in his eyes, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Tell by my attitude that I’m most definitely from…” 

You closed your eyes and sand out. “New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of.” 

You opened your eyes saw Daveed staring at you, a different kind of smile was one his face. Not the one he used when he was laughing. You never knew what this smile meant, but it always made you melt. You kept singing and glanced over at Lin. He was jamming. You finished your verse with a laugh at the way he was dancing, and Daveed launched into the second verse. The crowd was absolutely loving it. Daveed turned to you and started walking closer. You grinned and sang the refrain right back to him. He smiled and turned back to the crowd for the third verse but he was very close now. 

“Anna Wintour gets cold,” he looked over at you, with a smirk. “in Vogue with your skin out. “ He brought his face close to yours. “Good girls gone bad, this city’s filled with them.” Daveed looked you up and down like he was checking you out. The last verse was before you knew it. You quickly turned back to the crowd and belted the refrain. You closed your eyes and smiled as you sang. This was what you loved to do. You chanced a glance at Daveed. He was entraced by your singing. You turned and sand the bridge right to him.

“Street, light, big dreams, all lookin’ pretty. No place in the world that could compare…” 

You were becoming more and more focused on Daveed. By the time you finished the song, you’d completely forgotten there was a massive crowd watching you. You were breathing heavily, adrenaline was rushing through your body. Daveed stared at you. Everything else disappeared. 

He closed the distance between you. Your hands went to his face and you pushed your body against him. Your lips collided sending spark through every part of your being. The crowd became nothing but a dull roar. You kissed Daveed until you had to pull away to breathe. You looked out to crowd and blushed. 

“Well…good luck with the lotto I guess.” You heard Lin say. Daveed took your hand and led you back inside with a grin on his face.

Sunsets and Things Unsaid (Camp Camp Fic)

A/N: Please See End of Story

***

Sunsets and Things Unsaid

They’ve worked together for nearly five years, and in that time, Gwen’s learned a lot about herself. Perhaps, in a weird way, she’s learned more about herself at Camp Campbell than she did in college. Because the Gwen that tearfully writes up her pink slip one late afternoon in the counselor’s cabin isn’t  the same that sloppily mailed her resume for the position upon the eve of her graduation.

She sits on the cabin floor for a long time without moving, a faint breeze blowing her bangs through the screen door. She doesn’t exactly have a choice in the matter; she has to sign it eventually.

But it’s physically harder than she imagined.

She closes her eyes, catching the faint smell of wild flowers and wood smoke off in the distance, the laughing of children echoing off the cabin walls. It’s one of those rare, perfect camp days; something out of one of the shitty, lie-filled Camp Campbell pamphlets, the kind she searched for summer after summer. Even so, five years of shenanigans and memories had helped her learn to love the stupid, horrible days. Camp Campbell had become her broken, shit-hole of  a home, and slowly but surely, she had fallen in love.

But she was twenty eight, and even if she never wanted to grow up and move on, time was going to force her hand.

Trembling slightly and ignoring the tears forming in her eyes, she signed the slip, filling out the last pieces of information before quietly tucking it under her left bedpost. She sighed, burying her head into her knees and feeling her tears burning into the bruises and freckles that now marked her sun-kissed skin.

“Gwen?”

His timing is fucking perfect, but she can’t scream at him to get out. She can hardly speak in the first place, her lungs swollen and breathing heavy. Gwen can practically predict the following moments, counting seconds between the slam and lock of the front door, the hurried rush to close the blinds to hide from prying campers, and the tight, warm embrace around her shoulders.

All it does is cause her to sob even harder.

“Hey, hey,” David coos, grounded and more mature after years of hard work, “it’s okay, I’m here.” Gwen refuses to look at him; she can’t. It’s not even that big of a change, but she couldn’t bare to see the disappointment on his face when he-

“I didn’t think you were going to be this upset when you resigned!”

That stops her crying immediately.

“W-what did you say?” Gwen whispered, completely stark white as she looked up at David. To her surprise, he was smiling, the twinkle of laughter shining in his eyes as he gently tugged pink slip from under the bedpost.

“I heard your phone interview a few weeks ago; I’ve known for a while, Gwen.” She’s embarrassed; she feels stupid; but he doesn’t indulge himself in her humiliation, only pulling her closer into his arms.

“I’m sorry David-”

“Gwen,” he gently whispers, holding her tighter to his chest and trying to conceal the smirk dancing on his lips, “you’re taking a job at the Sleepy Peak Peak national park! If anything, you’re going to be closer to the camp than ever before. Just, you know, you’re not going to be working at camp.”

“I know,” she sobbed, harsly wiping at her face, “this is so fucking stupid.”

“Feelings aren’t stupid.”

“They are when you’re upset over a stupid camp full of stupid asshole children.” She sighed, finally looking David in the eye, “But I love all you stupid idiots. And this stupid shitty camp.”

A younger David would’ve frowned, insisting and listing all the wonderful things about camp. But he was older and less stupid, and so he sighed and squeezed her shoulders.

“Just you wait, Gwen,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and leaning on the top of her head, “as soon as I get this place; it’s gonna be fucking fantastic. I’m gonna make the mess hall bigger and give the campers indoor cabins; we’ll re-do our indoor plumbing and replace the stage curtains; maybe we can get a new boat as well.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

“Well, obviously, you’re going to be the first one to see it,” he flopped onto her lap, eyes gazing as if the ceiling was full of stars and not chipping wood, “you can even help out if you want; I’m not too keen on designing and stuff. Plus, even though I’ve dreamed of owning this camp since I was a kid, it wouldn’t feel right if you weren’t there by my side to really make this place special. It’s as much a part of you as it is me, isn’t it?”

Gwen didn’t speak, her gaze wet and wide and just transfixed in awe as David moved his starry eyes to meet her own. For as much as he had grown in the time she’d known him, he still had a very innocent, childlike feel about him. It was if everything he experienced, the good and the bad, held a strong sentimental feeling to him. And, though she liked to consider herself reasonable and rational, Gwen couldn’t hide the fact that his emotional intelligence had rubbed off on her in some form or another.

She moved her eyes, the sunset casting heavy shadows and layers of gold light into the room. If she squinted hard enough, she, too, could make out the stars that shone through the wood. Slowly, she reached down to take David’s hand, squeezing it tight in her own as she had so many times. But it felt different than before. She softly rubbed the slight folds in his smooth skin, palm prints pressing palm prints, friendly and comforting, as if she had finally found her home. It was a simple gesture, but somehow it felt more genuine, perhaps more intimate, than before. In the back of her head, she tried to make sense of her emotions, what had compelled her to stay close, the guilt and the shame of trying to keep it a secret from him, the sheer love she felt for Camp Campbell, and the boy who had always done his best to stand by her side.

But slowly sinking to the floor so that she could feel the pulse of his heart, eyes meeting once again under the sun-lit stars, she let her words fail her, allowing David to wrap her in his embrace once more until the intimacy and vulnerability faded with the sun.  

***

A/N: Apologies if these two dorks are a bit more serious and emotional than they’re normally written. I just imagined them a few years older and a few years wiser and/or slightly more mature. Older Gwen and David are actually pretty fun to write, even when all emotional and sentimental. 

As always; these characters and the show do not belong to me; my writing does. 

Just Be Patient ~David Pastrnak Imagine~

Requested:

Summary: You and your boyfriend of three years have been so happy. When the other players keep bugging him to propose, little did they know what he has in store. 

Originally posted by rask-me-anything40



You put on your jersey and got your bag ready. You were going over to your boyfriend’s game tonight. You were both together for three years and you both were the strongest couple anyone could ever imagine. 

“Are you coming over?” David asks you.

“Yes. I’m about to leave the apartment,” You tell him.

“Good. Just make sure you get here early,” He tells you. 

“I will. Why do you need me to get there early?” You ask curiously.

“You’ll see.”

David hung up on you before putting his phone back in his bag. 

“Dude, you are so whipped,” His teammate, Brad Marchand, laughed a little.

“Yeah. Why don’t you marry her already?!” Tuukka Rask said. 

David blushed a little. Little did his team know that he was going to propose to you before their game. He had talked to his manager, his coach, and the security before hand. His coach informed the other team so they knew what was going on. 

“Yeah, you’re not getting any younger,” David Backes joined in on the fun.

“If you wait any longer, she might get impatient on waiting for you,” Adam McQuaid joked. 

You made it to the stadium and went to the WAGs section. You sat with the rest of the ladies and they all smiled at you. 

“Hey, sweetie. How are you?” Stephanie Bergeron asked. 

“Great! How are you?” You ask her. 

“Perfect.”

“Excuse me miss. Please follow me,” A security guard said to you. You look at Stephanie who just shrugged. 

You follow him to the ice making you look confuse. A red carpet rolled out and your song with David played. You walk onto the carpet as everyone started to talk. You suddenly hear cheering, making you look to see David walking over towards you. The lights turned off, leaving one on you both. 

“Y/N L/N, we’ve been together for three years. And within those three years, I’ve been falling for you hard. I love the way you style your hair, the way your eyes light up, the way you talk. I can’t help myself but fall for you every single day. I love you so much,” David said. The crowd awed emotionally. He got down on one knee making you stare in surprise. You started to tear up as he pulled a small box out and opened it. Everyone gasped and some girls screamed a little.

“Y/N L/N, will you marry me?” He asks.

Everyone started to cheer yes while some joked a no. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You said nodding your head. David smiles and slips on the ring. He got up and pulled you into a kiss. Everyone started to cheer for you both. You pull away from the kiss and look up at him.

“I love you,” You tell him.

“I love you too.”

6

Broadsheets, fantastic dreams and 133 cartoonists have come together to pay tribute to Winsor McCay in an anthology called Little Nemo: Dream Another Dream

Winsor McCay was a newspaper cartoonist best known for “Little Nemo In Slumberland,” in which a little boy named Nemo has wondrous and thrilling dreams. Each strip ends the same way – Nemo is awakened and pulled back into reality.

The weekly comic strip ran from 1905-1911 in the New York Herald, from 1911-1914 in the New York American under the title “In The Land Of Wonderful Dreams" and then again from 1924-1926 in the New York Herald Tribune under its original name.

McCay was no stranger to the land of Nod; his other well-known strip was "Dreams of the Rarebit Fiend,” which also featured fantastical dreams that the characters blamed on their fondness for Welsh Rarebit – melted cheese mixed with a bit of beer and mustard, served on toast.

Locust Moon Press is publishing the book; co-owner Josh O'Neill told the comic blog The Outhousers that McCay was his favorite cartoonist of all time.

…and at our comic shop in Philly he’s a huge figure. We talk about his work all the time, and the two Sunday Press editions of his Little Nemo strips are well-worn and well-loved to say the least. He’s this giant, outsized inspiration for cartoonists and illustrators and animators, but the average person – even the average comic book fan – doesn’t even know who he is.

We wanted to shine a light back at him, refracted through the visions of the incredibly diverse, brilliant artists in the book. And we knew that the awe-inspiring intimidation factor of McCay would bring out the best in the people we were lucky enough to work with.

Contributing artists include those featured above: (in order of appearance) James Harvey, David Petersen and Toby Cypress.

More artists include Paul Pope, Craig ThompsonRoger LangridgeP. Craig Russell and Carla Speed McNeil, whose contribution involves Nemo being chased by a giant cat. 

The anthology will go on sale to the general public in October. 

Images via http://locustmoon.com/tag/dream-another-dream/ and http://www.comicstriplibrary.org/browse/results?title=2&page=1

- Intern Nicole

Roper’s opening night.


Author Ladyoftheteaandblood.
Happy fluff with Roper, Alternative fact Tom and a few friends.

Roper stared at Pine and couldn’t for the life of him think why Conny had let him back in.

“He’s glaring at me again” Tom yelled at Conny

“Are you surprised, you nicked his bed space, he was sleeping by me till your return” Tom felt guilty all over again and Roper growled at him

“Yes alright you furry demon, I’m well aware I’ve fucked up”

The black cat looked somehow pleased at this confession, gave Tom a look of disgust, a disdainful flick of his tail end and walked out the cat flap.

“With Roper gone it was time for Pine to woo the lady and try his luck”

As Tom said this he turned round to find Conny behind him

“Are you still doing a narrative on that poor innocent cat?” She asked wrapping her arms round his waist.

“He hates me, I look at him sometimes and the see evil intent in those big golden eyes. He’s just waiting for his chance to trip me on the stairs” Tom said as he hugged Conny back.

“Well he remembers all the night I was……..Upset and is plotting his revenge”

“So you admit he wants to kill me then?” the blue eyes sparkling at her

“Oh yes, you’re one cats hair away from death, so you’d better behave. This time Roper will win” she giggled

“On a serious note, he is very jealous of you Tom, even more so since your return, so be nice to him. He had me all to himself and now he’s lost his bed and half his cuddles”

“Oh I’ll try” and with a look that said he felt exactly the opposite, Tom made to leave.

“See you at the theater later?” he asked. Conny had been helping in the evenings with Tom’s latest production. Every time she left to go, Roper had sulked like he knew she was off to cavort with that man.

“Yes I will see you later, may even bring cake and cookies for the cast”

“You know how to get around a guy” he laughed as he picked up his bag, kissed her on the forehead and left.

Conny spent a very messy, happy afternoon cooking for the cast. She had never been a tidy cook and by the end of the day even Roper, who had come back now “Thingy” had gone, was covered in flour. He turned and left her to go clean himself up, making sure he did so on Tom’s favourite chair, leaving as much flour behind as he could.

Conny’s bag stood by the door full of cakes, cookies and books, some she’d promise to lend and two she was giving back to Mark Gatiss. Roper had a good sniff round and rubbed as much of his scent on it as he could, so she wouldn’t forget him.

The cleaning of the kitchen took a lot longer than she had expected, so it was a very quick shower before Conny had to rush out the door, throwing cat food in Ropers bowl and praying he wasn’t to pissed off at her for not giving him a goodbye tummy rub.

Outside she found Tom’s driver Sam, waiting, smiling as ever.

“Tom sent me. My lady your chariot awaits” He told her bowing really low and opening the car door.

“You’re as big an idiot as he is, but thanks this bag is heavy”

Sam took it off her, let her in the car and stowed the booty in the boot.

“Where to my lady”

“Oh take me to my knight in tarnished armour”

When she got to the theater, the front of house had that quiet calm that happens before all hell breaks Loose, the auditorium was empty and silent, the stage had its curtains open, the set with the props all in place, ready for the off.

The dressing rooms however were buzzing with activity as actors were transformed from lowly plebs, to hero’s, villains, kings and servants and all the other members of this somewhat mad production.

Mark Gatiss had written this play himself with Tom, Benedict and David T. in mind. He himself played the old confused priest in this mad old fashioned farce, while the three stars played eager knights jousting for the girl, only to have her ……Well that would ruin the end and we can’t have that.

Safe to say it had a lot of silly nonsense with swords, Armour, hiding behind bits of set, a priest, a medieval torturer, and men trying to impress a girl etc…

The three boys played their parts to perfection, and the audience left to go home each night with sides aching from all the laughing. The play had become a huge hit, with both the critics and general public loving it.

Conny would come in every night and help where she could. If that meant tea making, clearing up, or just fetching and carrying, she would do it. She really didn’t care what she did, she just love how back stage felt before and during the performance.

How the tension would build till the curtain came up. How each actor had their way of preparing before they went on. Some having an almost  religious ritual they had to go through, some listened to a particular bit of music, some you had to leave totally alone and others wanted to talk through their part yet again.

She put down her bag in the tiny kitchen, opened it, and was about to take out the cookies and cakes, and other goodies when a head popped out, very quickly followed by the body and tail of Roper. Who after taking one look at the odd surroundings with its even odder smells, shot out the door of the theater kitchen.

“Oh shit!”

Now she had two options. One, tell everyone a cat, a black cat to boot, was running around the theater. Or two, try and find the furry fiend before the little sod caused utter chaos.

She decided on the second but this could only happen if nobody yelled for her help, which of course that night they all did.

Tom had got part of his armour stuck and needed to be  helped out and then back in it the right way, which let’s face it, at any other time would have been really good fun as it was the bottom half.

A major prop had been lost, so it was all hands on deck to find it. Conny used the hunt time to also look for Roper but he’d had gone to ground and refused to be found. She discovered the missing prop in the fridge when making tea for a fraught cast.

A male member of cast was convince the loos were haunted, as when he was having a pee, he’d heard strange sounds coming from the old cupboard in the corner. Conny had a clue what that was but on further inspection, she only found an empty cupboard, apart from a decapitated mouse.

She made the decision to tell Tom the news and went off to find him,. She  didn’t get further than his dressing room door as he flew passed her with a quick peck on the cheek and said

“And we are off again”

Now all she could do now was pray she’d find him after the performance.

The play went like a dream, Conny could hear Tom and the others frolicking on stage and the audience roaring with laughter.

It carried on that way to the final act where our three knacked knights, having all completed their tasks, rushed into the throne room, on hobby horses, to each try and claim the hand of the maiden fair. Only to find it empty and all hope of romantic entanglements removed as she had ……Well that would ruin it.

There they stood, our three gallant men, ardour cooling in the cold light of day but ready to have one final battle with each other to the bitter end. Swords in hands, they faced each other, when a low menacing sound  could be heard loud and clear all across the stage and out into the audience.

Tom, Benedict and David all looked briefly confused then resumed the fight, prowling round the stage, about to do  terrible acts of violence on the other two, an armpit killing was due anytime.

The most awful sound of suffering came from the wings, as a scream was heard and two cast members, the Princes and her love interest the milk maid ( sod end ruined)  rushed on stage with no cue to do so, quickly followed by the castle torturer looking like he’d just seen death itself.

A sound of scuffling, the growl of a cat, the screech of a dying animal and silence. The audience were gripped as the plot thickened. Our three heroes looked at each other and then back at the wings, our uninvited cast members on stage were now holding on to each other. Tom stared at the burly torturer who decidedly pale, whispered to Tom “Rat…Large" the guy looked about to faint.

At this point on walked a familiar furry lump…He crossed the stage as cocky as you like, passing the surprised looking knights, carrying…Well more like dragging a large dead grey rat in his mouth. Roper looked out at the audience bobbed his head as if to bow and exited stage left, still dragging his spoils of war.

The audience cheered and Ben commented loudly he’d never been upstaged by a cat.

David looked at the happy couple and in his broad Scottish accent said

“Well ya can’t argue with that”

Tom gave up put his arms around his fellow knights saying,

“It seem our plans have been thwarted.  We should retire to the tavern men where wenches aplenty wait with ale?” The frustrated suitors headed off stage, along with the happy couple and the torturer still looking nervously around in case ratty had brought mates.

After the applause and bows had stopped, there was just the question to be answered. why was the play change by a unscripted cat?

Tom was strangely quiet as to answers and Conny looked like she’d robbed a bank. But Mark was killing himself laughing and saying he couldn’t have written it better himself.

Conny fessed up to her stow away pal, who was bought out of hiding by David opening a tin of tuna he’d had in the fridge. He said it was for a sandwich but he was known for putting stuff in there by mistake.

On hearing the can-opener Roper strutted into the room rat free and received his reward. Everyone praise the little sod for saving the fair maiden from the nasty rodent that had attacked her, her maid and the big strong torturer in the wings that night. He single handedly had saved the day. He gave Tom a look as if to say

“Who’s the star now Buddy boy?”

Conny fed a very pooky Tom cake, and he began to see the funny side as the cast happily finished all the goodies while giving heaps of attention to Roper. Who as it turnout was quite the spotlight whore!

Mark took loads of photos of cast and cat, and made sure that the opportunity to get some media attention for the play didn’t go a miss. Well it’s not even day a cat graces a London stage and not only upstages the cast, saves the maiden from a large uninvited rat and changes the plot in a good way.

Roper, when all the tuna was gone, and his audience were leaving to head home,  got back into the bag to go home himself with no bother at all helped by David, who he seemed to adore.

“Pine was yet again put in his place by Roper as to who was boss” Tom said under his breath

“Oh come on my superhero, just because he prefers a Time lord to a demi god, don’t get jealous” Conny said as she gave Tom a hug.

She went and picked up her coat from the table only to screamed loudly as a large dead, bloody rat fell from its folds onto her foot.

“How lovely, Roper gave you his Kill"

“That cats an arsehole” she yelled shaking her foot vigorously, as Tom graciously removed the dead monster, grinning from ear to ear as it was now his turn to save the maid. And he knew just what to ask for as a reward on getting home!

(Pictures not mine I just played)

@abfoster1s @ancientfinnishgoddess @antyc67 @archy3001 @aggro-femme @angryschnauzer @aliceada @anovinebin  @booksandcatslover @bluegrasscontessa

 @damageditem @dorito82 @echantedbytwh @eve1978 @feelmyroarrrr @frenchblondgirl @heathermc13 @izhunny @larouau12 @lolawashere @lostinspaced33 @maevecurrywrites @marveloznerd @mrshiddelston @october-green @oeffsee @ourladybinxthings @peskipixi @prplprincez @quoting-shakespeare-to-ducks @simonscat @servent-alearika @siyoteodiara @the-haven-of-fiction @the-lady-mischief @tinaferraldo @tomforachange @tomhiddleston-kikibfairy @tomkurbikston @neither-blue-nor-green @nuggsmum @lordjohnandtom @kellarter

@omninocte
OUAT 6x17 Shenanigans

So, aside from several eye rolls and a couple mutterings of not this shit again…I made it through the episode. There was a lot going on.

The Charmings have made awful decisions concerning Emma ever since she was a baby. Usually, the mantra of this show is that there is always another way, which we have seen clearly in this episode, so why not stay awake, save your ten year old daughter, and find another way?

David easily excusing Hook killing his father was incredibly lame. Why bring up such a dark secret, show Hook in such an awful light (basically re-vilifying him), show us David’s agony over his father’s death only for it to be forgiven a few episodes later? Hook still hasn’t done anything to show some great change. He always ends up getting a pass or being considered a hero by association.

Ever since Gideon sent him away he has been a jerk to the people he comes across and if he helps it’s either reluctantly or because it will benefit him. He and Tiger Lily obviously have old beef that he seemed to be responsible for and when she needed his help, he told her no until he realized they were talking about the same person. If we were suppose to see a change in Hook, wouldn’t it have made more sense to show him doing selfless things and righting some of his wrongs on his journey back to Emma rather than being flippant and unhelpful?

I’ve seen a few people using the word selfish to describe Hook & Emma’s love and I agree.

I’m not impressed by Hook & Emma using the flower as proof of True Love. If the viewers, without a shadow of a doubt, are supposed to accept them as TL then why is it always so ambiguous? Why not give them what has been set up as the most obvious expression of TL?

Emma seems bored and tired the majority of the time and she is excusing all of the unhealthy things that Hook and her parents do.

I still believe that there is an underlying something going on that hasn’t been fully revealed yet, but this show can be so frustrating to watch. I plan on seeing it through until the end though.

The Depeche Mode concert in Bratislava yesterday was mind blowing. Dave had SO much fun! And I’ll never forget the moment when he looked into my eyes while singing Heroes by David Bowie and smiled when I started grinning like a lunatic and gave him my biggest heart eyes ever, unintentionally. It was a solid 10 seconds of interaction. I can’t believe senpai noticed me again. This was worth soaking in the rain for 2 hours and almost fainting because I ran too fast to get a nice fos spot (I’m still dizzy because of this. help). But he smiled at me. Life is so good.

Stars [Scott McCall x Reader]



Hope you like the imagine, dear! Thank you for requesting! Apologies, Isaac is a bit out of character. 

x start x


You sat next to Stiles on the bench, breath coming out in visible puffs as you turned towards Coach Finstock, who was screaming something at a player on the field.

You rested your elbow on your knee, chin in your hand as you leaned forward, watching your puppy-dog-eyed friend, letting out a small cheer as he scored another goal.

Scott’s eyes scanned the field, connecting with yours, and he flashed a smile, causing your heart to flutter, and cheeks to redden as you smiled back.

“God – you two make me sick.” Stiles snorted, and you turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

“You make me sick when you pine after Lydia, but I don’t say anything.” You retorted, taking a sip of water, and Stiles sputtered, glaring at you.

“Why don’t you just ask him out already?” Stiles questioned, and you choked on your water, leaning forward, gripping your throat.

You turned towards Stiles, hurriedly whispering under you breath.

“Shut up- he might be able to hear you!” You stumbled, over your words, before sighing and throwing a longing glance at Scott.

“Besides, I don’t think he’d like me back.” Stiles raised his eyebrows, forehead creasing as his lips parted in awe.

“Are you kidding me? He’s head over heels for you, as soon as you walk in the room he does that puppy dog thing where he stares at you until you notice him, It’s kind of annoying actually…” Stiles muttered complaints under his breath, and this time you raised your eyebrows.

“You really think?” You asked timidly, and Stiles sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Trust me, I know.” Stiles stated, just as the game finished, the loud buzzing reverberating through the chilled air.

The bleachers burst out into cheers, and you and Stiles stood up simultaneously, clapping as the players on the field returned to the sidelines.

You picked up your helmet and lacrosse stick, following Stiles to go congratulate Scott when an arms slipped around your shoulders, pulling you into someone’s chest.

“Isaac!” You whined, pushing against your older brother’s chest, as he pulled you into a sweaty hug.

“So, is there any reason why you were benched half the game?” Isaac asked, and you rolled your eyes.

“I may or may not have pissed Coach off, and besides, I’m still better than you.” You teased, and Isaac pulled off his helmet, ruffling up your hair.

“If you were better than me, you wouldn’t have been benched half the game.” Isaac smirked, and you playfully scowled.

“And if you were smart, you’d keep your mouth shut, Lahey.” You sung, running off to have a shower.

“Remember, after party at David’s house, text me when you get there!” Isaac called worriedly, and you rolled your eyes, flashing a thumbs up before sprinting to the girl’s change rooms.


x at the party x


You had texted Isaac a while ago, telling him that you made it to the party safely and that you were going to hang out with a couple friends. You didn’t tell him those friends were Scott and Stiles, though.

“Hey, Scott!” You lifted a hand to wave, and his head immediately jerked up towards you, his mouth pulling up into a smile, and you couldn’t help but think that if he were a dog, his tail would be wagging at the moment.

“[Y/N], hey!” Scott called, and you placed your cup onto a nearby table, crossing your arms over yourself as your cheeks tinged red again, and you hoped that Scott didn’t notice the flutter of your heart.

“You were really good today- like usual.” You complimented, and his smile widened, ears practically perking with joy.

“You were great as well, even though you were off half the game.” Scott raised an eyebrow and you chuckled sheepishly, playing with your fingers.

While you were distracted, Stiles gestured wildly at Scott to take you somewhere more private, flailing his arms and mouthing random words.

“Uh, h-hey, [Y/N], can I show you something?” Scott asked, and your eyes widened, cheeks burning as you nodded your head, Scott grabbed your hand as he pulled you up one of the many flights of David’s house (David was kind of rich).

Scott had pulled you into a large room, on the top floor, one of the long walls was simply glass, and you awed quietly, tugging on Scott’s hand as you ran towards the window, staring at the breathtaking view of Beacon Hills, lights shimmering as your eyes slowly rose towards the sky, thousands of stars twinkling overhead.

“Wow- this is…” You trailed off, too awed to even think of a worthy word.

“Beautiful.” Scott breathed, and you turned towards him, noticing that his eyes were trained on your face.

“Nah, I was gonna say ugly.” You joked, and he smiled, chuckling under his breath.

He reached one hand up, the one that wasn’t clutching yours, to push a lock of hair from your face.

Your breath hitched, your heart jolting as your cheeks reddened under his gaze.

“Scott…” You whispered, trailing off, and he hummed, staring into your half-lidded eyes.

“Kiss me?” You squeaked, and his smile widened, one hand grasping your cheek as he pulled your face towards his, lips connecting with yours.

Your lips moved slowly, sweetly, parting as you moved your hands to intertwine them behind his neck. You parted, and your teeth latched onto his bottom lip, causing him to grin.

Once you had finally parted, you grinned, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“Wow, that was way better than I thought! Not that I thought you were gonna be bad or anything! Or not that I thought about it at all or – uh…” You trailed off, ears turning pink as Scott moved towards you, capturing you in another kiss, hands falling towards your waist as he pulled you against his chest.

You pulled away, and the two of you just stared at each other until you got sheepish and looked away.

“Are you going to say something?” You asked, cheeks burning, heart fluttering momentarily.

“I am, actually.” Scott chuckled, and you waited, staring up at him through your lashes.

“Will you, [Y/N] Lahey, be my girlfriend?” Scott asked, and your smile widened, if that was even possible, moving to press your face into his neck as you squealed a small yes.

Then you were kissing him again, melting against his body as his strong arms rested on your lower back, thumb rubbing the exposed skin on your hip from your ridden up shirt.

“[Y/N]- Scott? What the hell!?” Isaac yelled, standing at the doorway, causing you both to pull apart.

“What the hell are you doing Scott? What’s wrong with you?” Isaac yelled, and through your rage you noticed Stiles stumble into the room behind your brother.

“Isaac!” You yelled in panic and confusion, narrowing your brows.

“What’s gotten into you? I thought you’d be happy!? You know I’ve had a crush on Scott for forever!” You cried in outrage, and Isaac practically seethed, stepping towards you.

“That’s all it is, [Y/N] – a crush! You’re so hung up over one guy! Just because you’ve been alone for so long, you pounce on the first guy you get your hands on!” Isaac yelled, and you froze, tearing up.

“Dude! That was uncalled for!” Scott yelled, pulling you to his chest, like he could somehow hide you from Isaac’s harsh words.

“I’m just telling her the truth, Scott! You don’t even love her! She’s just your rebound from Allison!” Isaac seethed, and you felt tears streaming down your face, pulling away from Scott, even Stiles winced from Isaac’s words.

You didn’t expect him to act like this. Isaac and you were close, you had lost everything and still managed to keep each other, so you pegged Isaac’s reaction to him just holding on.

Isaac continued ranting, but it all just seemed like garbled muttering to your ears, tears streaming down your face as you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. It was one of those moments where everything just got tuned out, where your breathing quickened and you the only sound was the blood rushing through your ears and your pulse banging at your temple.

“I hate you.” You whispered, because it had been silent for a couple seconds as Isaac took in a deep breath, about to continue his rant, before you had interrupted him.

“I hate you so much.” You continued, looking at his shocked face, at the look of hurt that flashed through his eyes. For a split second you regretted saying it, but you shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks.

Why couldn’t he just be happy for you?

“You’re just like Dad!” You screamed, and his eyes widened, mouth falling open as you pushed past him, running out the door, not only hurt, but embarrassed, embarrassed because Scott had to see that crappy exchange and embarrassed because you thought that Isaac would actually feel happy for you.

You found a small door that led to a large balcony, the sound of electronic music fading as the door softly closed by itself. You sat on the floor, back against the wall as you kicked your heels off, resting your face in your hands, sobbing quietly to yourself.

You remembered your father, always saying that you wouldn’t find anyone. That you weren’t smart enough or pretty enough, you just weren’t enough. For years and years you believed him, you believed that you’d die alone, or just drown in unrequited love. Then Scott came along. He was nice and funny, and kind of dorky, and he cared for you.

Isaac dug that hole again, he threw open the closet doors and picked at your skeletons, even if you screamed for him to leave them alone. You felt sick to your stomach, not only with sadness, but also with rage. He had no right to speak to you like that; you were his sister for God’s sake.

You sniffled, resting your head against the wall as you stared up at the stars, but without Scott they didn’t shine as bright, without Scott they weren’t as beautiful.

Then the door flew open and you blinked, wiping hurriedly at your face to try and get rid of the stray tears on your cheeks.

“[Y/N].” Scott breathed a sigh of relief, dropping next to you as he slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards him.

You stayed quiet, breathing in his cologne, trembling in embarrassment and panic.

“Do you still like me?” You whispered into his chest, and he rested his chin on your head, his thumb kneading at your bare arm.

“Yes, [Y/N], I still like you.” Scott whispered, and you sniffled in relief, pressing yourself into his chest.

“I like you a lot.” Scott continued, and you let some tears slip out, throwing your arms around him.

“Thank you.” You whispered, and Scott smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The two of you remained silent, staring up at the stars.

“You’re going to be just fine, [Y/N].” Scott reassured, and you squeezed your eyes shut, holding back tears.

“I know.” You whispered, looking at Scott’s face, then back at the stars, clutching his hand.

“I know.”

youtube

GN: David are you crazy?

DT: D’you know there’s been something that I…something that I’m aware… I…I…(stammering)… I’ve conquered one. I used to spend an awful lot of time sss… if you… Blokes, tend to have a lot of black socks right?

GN: um hm.

DT: and I had to get the right black sock, with the right black sock.

GN: Yes.

DT: And I would spend hours with socks (unintelligible: arrayed? arranged?) 

(audience laughter as David continues to talk)

GN: Yes!

DT: (unintelligible)… a little bit of ribbing… and that… is that the same ribbing? Opening the curtains to get a light. (shakes head) Thats not quite the ss… but look, Graham,  look…look… this has changed my life.

(David begins to unlace his trainers)

GN: Oh no, no, what…

DT: This has changed my life, I can’t, I’m so excited I can’t get my… look…

GN: This will change my life?

DT: …with a hidden pattern.

GN: oooohhhhh.

DT: Look.

(Applause)

GN: I must do this.

DT: So you can tell… and secretly secreted in your shoe is the answer to all your ww… and these are even better, cause these ones TELL YOU WHAT DAY TO WEAR THEM ON!

GN: No!

DT: (gleefully): YES!

(everyone applauds)

GN: You’ve. Changed. My. Life.

DT: little tip for you (unintelligible).

——

(thank you to @licensed-to-ruffle-dat-hair for the heads up!)

What's the thing with fathers in the story?

We’ve seen an awful lot of them — some terrible, some downright horrible, two borderlines somewhat decent and one of them is not even alive.

But when it comes to mothers at least three are mentioned. 2/3 of which turned up to become damsels in distress regardless of their gentle and loving nature to their kids.

Really Kibuishi-san? What kind of patriarchal-centric driving force is this? Sure, there are strong female characters but fathers still outnumber the mothers and the former barely passes the line on a decent father.

1. David
- from what we see so far, great guy. A loving husband, a good father, and all in all, a great man. Too bad he gotta die. He’s the best out of all of them.

2. Charlie Hunter
- trusts his kid, Alyson (I think she’s adopted). That’s great. Not only that, he also taught her how to pilot a Silverhawk at age ten. Sweet. Badass. Great dad, believes in his kid and shatters society’s expectations on what a father should teach his girl. But man, no matter how reliable Alyson is, why in the world would you allow her to fight a mountain giant — miles up from the ground — that just destroyed a fucking airship? That’s a great disregard for her life so minus points for me.

3. Virgil
- he’s not even a father but damn does he fill up that role. Kindly guy, really reliable. Guides Trellis the best he can because his asshole of a father can’t. Entrusts him with the truth because he believes in him. Why did he have to die again

4. Leon’s dad
- we don’t know the guy but he seems ok. Probably Leon 1.0. Probably honourable and self-sacrificing. Still he died.

5. Vigo
- I think it’s pretty obvious he loves his son. But when he realizes that the Guardian Council is compromised by fear and knows it might lead to Cielis’s downfall. ‘Hmm!! I gotta work outside the system. Best if I give this responsibility to my young son who is still traumatized from the death of his mother and not I, an adult with experience!! Yep this is right because I will be guiding him anyway and he’s one of my best students!! No way this could go wrong’. The reason he didn’t talk to you because you made him feel he couldn’t, Vigo. You were too focused on the Council and not your son.

6. Silas
- hey, he was a father y'know, else how would Emily be born without his son, who had a daughter, who then had a daughter? Sure, he isolated his family from the responsibility he could’ve handled himself for decades he’s been alive (probably even outliving his son!) because, uh y'know, he’s trying to keep them safe. Oh, no. The way he shoves the big-ass responsibility of handling an amulet to Emily (who was 12) so she could rule Alledia (WHICH was something he failed to achieve in his lifetime) also maybe, uh, change the past for selfish intentions with ABSOLUTE disregard of people who relied on him to fight back in the war and encourages HER to LISTEN to the voice that could ultimately bring her downfall but not warning her of the tinny-bit of unimportant information that she could lose control does NOT (by all means) count. Uh-huh, no it doesn’t.

7. Max’s dad
- oooh boy. A-grade terrible father. Neglects his child’s emotional and mental needs. Insensitive, prejudiced, does not give two fucks about what Max wants only what people need. Really? The people are more important than a kid who relies on you to guide him, the one you’re supposed to nurture and love? ‘Max will follow my path not my Father’s’ wow!!! Such an amazing insight and practical decision!! Max, a kid who has a will and preference and is clever and witful, is not allowed to fucking choose!! Guess he forgot that Max is a person with volition because, fathers know best!! Go to hell you dirtbag piece of shit.

8. The King
- DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THIS MOTHERFUCKER - DO I EVEN HAVE TO SAY ANYTHING?? IT’S PRETTY FUCKING OBVIOUS The mothers will have to go on another post because the list will be too long :) :):)) :) : ) :) :):):) there’s like!! Two!! Or!! Three!! Of!! Them!! Glad we had this talk.

  • watching the episode like: OMG! OMG! OMG! that'so cute! LITTLE REGINA! LITTLE ZELENA! *screams to death* Oh please robin! THEY ARE SO CUTE OMG *screams and claps hands* NO REGINA C'MON!! oooohh FIREBALL FIGHT! My poor little babies! Oh please David! They held hands and she went to the light... GOODBYE AND HELLO *screams till throat melts* I'm dead. Aw Hades is just adorkable you guys... Ok i did not see that coming...
7

The Shakespeare Code - Behind the Scenes (Part 2)
Excerpts from Benjamin Cook’s set report from DWM #382

Back on set, Freema is briefing David Tennant on the scene in which they first see Shakespeare. “All the way through your, ‘He’s a genius’ speech,” she says, “I’ll be clapping like an idiot, okay?”

“I remember learning ‘clapping like an idiot’ at drama school,” David joshes.

Third assistant Sarah positions Upper Boat’s groundling extras around the two leads. “After Freema shouts ‘author’,” says Sarah, “you’re all going to start shouting ‘author’, and you in the red hat - what’s your name? Hugh? You’ll start shouting ‘Shakespeare’, okay?”

Multiple takes follow. On the third, Freema gets confused, and calls for ‘Shakespeare’ instead of ‘author’. The man in the red hat looks crestfallen. “I’m so sorry,” gasps Freema, “I got carried away! I was caught up in the whole moment. Also, I did a cheesy grin when he came out, didn’t I? Oh that’s awful. I’m just so excited to see Shakespeare!”

During the next take, David’s eye-line goes askance.

“Where am I supposed to look, then? I was put off,” he insists, “by some very vigorous acting from Dean on stage.”

“I ran out of breath,” Dean [Lennox Kelly - playing Shakespeare] laughs. “I got a bit light-headed!”

“You almost fainted again,” says David, rolling his eyes. “You big girl!”

“I’m a genius,” shrugs Dean. “Geniuses shouldn’t stand upright for more than five minutes at a time. I blame the writer.”

David: “You can’t do that.”

Dean: “I can! Who wrote this stuff?”

Thank you to everyone who shares set photos!!

Other parts of this set available: [ one ] [ three ] [ four ]
[ List of all Doctor Who Behind the Scenes photosets

I interviewed the director of The Sisters of Mercy's Dominion: David Hogan

Dominion: the ultimate combination between rock-opera, gothic and glamour

The Dominion music video is still my favorite video all time and for Some Wear Leather, Some Wear Lace I did serious effort to find promotional photos made in Jordan. For a book you need the HQ and original photos, so it requires tracing those back. Story goes that the result of the promotional shoot were given to the record company and were never seen back. Neither I got my hands on HQs of the behind-the-scenesphotos. With the stressing deadline for the manuscript, it became an impossible task to include (unseen) ‘Dominion’ photos in Some Wear Leather, Some Wear Lace. But.. who I did get to speak to was the director of the Dominion video: David Hogan!

Not the espionage-theme (FIY: Andrew was not looking for the holy grail!), the irony of wearing white by the then band-members Patricia Morrison and Andrew Eldritch, and the overly seriousness of the video make it so memorable, but especially the location, the City of Petra in Jordan was the best choice. If shooting the This Corrosion video would go well, the record company would give The Sisters of Mercy a green light for Jordan. David Hogan, a well-known music video director was willing to do the not-so-awful job.

The filming was during the first Persian Gulf war and the King of Jordan turned out to be very helpful to the the American director and his crew. For instance, they could borrow a military helicopter! A large part of the video was smoothly filmed with help of this huge chopper. However, not everything went well: Andrew is scared of horses, the first day it was snowing in the dessert(!), and the camels were a pain to work with! Hogan almost had to cut all the camels out the scenes. The animals definitely didn’t appreciate the cameras and never wanted to do what Hogan planned. One of the Bedouin men suggested they should dress up the camera with cloaks, so it looked like a person. It was a hit.

The local people were polite and helped cast & crew, says Hogan: Several of the elder Bedouins even had experience working in front of the camera on Lawrence of Arabia. But that only the men could be on camera was something Hogan didn’t know: “In their society it’s impolite to say no, which is a blessing and curse, when it comes to production. Everything they promised was delivered, but when I requested three women in traditional clothing (covered in burqas) my bodyguard told me yes, when the answer was absolutely no. Photographing Arab women is strictly prohibited!”

Smoking joints in Petra, horse racing with Bedouins during sunrise in the dessert - Hogan has good memories filming here. Also, Patricia considers Petra as her favorite “The Sisters of Mercy”-memory. And for me? For me it is a great memory too: it was the first Sisters of Mercy song that I heard - the combination of a bombastic song and the impressive video made me an instant fan.

Eventually, Scully and an extremely sick Mulder wind up together on a bridge. Just as she thinks of her son, William, the one that’s been lost throughout the season, it happens.
It happens as Mulder is still dying.
It happens before we know anything more about William.
It happens with the fate of the world still hanging in a precious balance and Scully maybe with the power to save it.
It happens without any further info on why Einstein is named “Dr. Einstein.”
An alien ship, just like the one we saw in the premiere, the one that humans had learned to build, appears. Hovering overhead with its shadow blotting out the cars in darkness, it shines a beam of light down on an awed Scully, who stares with childlike amazement.
And then … NOTHING.
IT ENDED.
The end credits ran and the miniseries — THE ONE WE WAITED 13 YEARS FOR — ended.
It was such a tremendous hour of television that, even though we all knew it was only an hour, most of us probably just kept staring at our television anyway. I’d be willing to place a wager that there are folks out there who still are.
So, here’s a parting note to Fox, to Chris Carter, to Gillian Anderson, to David Duchovny: If we don’t get another season, The X-Files fans are going to lose their collective damn minds.
#XFilesSeason11 is all we have to say.
—  Mashable’s review of “My Struggle II”
Don’t say it

A/N : After Emma comes back, Killian doesn’t want to hear her say she loves him. He can’t bear to even think of that night. But then an accident happens and his feelings finally come out. Captain Swan one-shot (the summary kinda sucks). 

Killian never lets her say it. He’s aware that she wants to say it but he can’t hear it. Not these damned words. Not again. 

So when Emma tries to whisper those three little words throughout the day, he silences her. He changes the subject when the conversation turns a bit too deep - as it always does with them. He interrupts her in the middle of her sentence with a heated kiss when he feels them coming, making her forget everything. 

But she knows exactly what’s going on. She’s been back for weeks and the words must be burning her lips but she holds back. For him. At least, that’s what he assumes. But hearing the words would be too painful. 

He never lets her say I love you. Ever. Because he’s afraid he’ll lose her one more time if the words were to ever leave her mouth again. The way they did when she became the Dark Ones months ago, believing she was giving into an irredeemable darkness. The same way these words had tumbled from Milah’s lips with her dying breath. 

The words are burning his lips as well. Constantly there, as if waiting for the moment when he’d let his guard down. But he can’t. Every single person he’s ever said these words to died or left him. All of them. His parents. His brother. His first love. Even Emma had - although she’d come back. As a villain, he deserves nothing more than this. He should let her go, end things right now. But he couldn’t. As much of a hero as he’d like to pretend to be, he was being selfish. He could live without a ship, without a roof - without food if it came down to it. He had always been a survivor. The only thing he needs to live is her. Emma. He can’t make himself give her up. So he’ll wait for her to grow tired of him and enjoy the last months with her as much as he can. But he would not pronounce those words - or hear her say them. 

And then it happens. 

Keep reading

George Harrison and Bob Dylan at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony, 20 January 1988. Photo © David McGough/DMI/The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images.

13 October 2016: Bob Dylan has been named as the winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature (The Guardian reports). In light of this:

“[I]f Dylan hadn’t said some of the things he did, nobody else was going to say them. Can you imagine what a world it would be if didn’t have a Bob Dylan? It would be awful.” - George Harrison, It’s Not Only Rock ‘n’ Roll - Iconic Musicians Reveal The Source Of Their Creativity by Dr. Jenny Boyd & Holly George-Warren [x]

“rbortega2001 asks: What did you think of Bob Dylan getting nominated for an Oscar? george_harrison_live: I think he should win it! george_harrison_live: I think he should win ALL the Oscars george_harrison_live: all the Tonys george_harrison_live: all the Grammys” - Yahoo web chat, 15 February 2001 [x]

moonsun-light  asked:

Hi ! I read your post on Jk Rowling and the others writers and I loved the description of their type. According to you, what would be the characteristics of an ENFP writer ?

Instead of characteristics, I’ll give you two specific examples: Victor Hugo and Charles Dickens.

Dickens is my literary “god,” so to speak. I am so profoundly in awe and jealous of his writing abilities. He’s a genius. He’s a master craftsman of characters. Of subtle (and unsubtle) humor. He blows my mind every single time I read one of his books or watch an adaptation of one I haven’t read. Bleak House was just … gut-wrenching brilliance. The man came up with one idea for each book and in typical Ne-dom fashion, it exploded into 20 characters. Not paper thin characters, but characters with individual quirks (none of them alike), entire back stories (that often tie in together), and distinct personalities. It’s all so different. His books have similar characteristics here and there, but his villains and heroes alike are distinct from one another. Is David Copperfield anything like Pip? No. Is Miss Havisham anything like Mr. Tulkinghorn? Hell no.

He kept plot threads running simultaneously … Esther at Bleak House, Lady Dedlock’s secret, Tulkinghorn’s lawyering, Guppy’s quest to learn the truth … on and on it went. Juggling 20 separate plot lines in the air, in every book. And then, toward the end, when you think, “This dude cannot POSSIBLY tie them all together in the end” … he does it. This person is related to that person, and this person knows that person, and this person is important even though you thought they weren’t! The bad guys (and he wrote insanely awesome magnificent bastards that no one will ever forget) get their dues, the good guys get their happy ending, and the book ends, leaving us simultaneously entertained, exhausted, and sad that we have to say goodbye to our friends.

His books were personal in the way that ENFPs’ writing tends to be, but also called attention to major injustices that Dickens himself experienced (David Copperfield being based on his life) and saw around him. I don’t think he intentionally set out to expose the awfulness of child welfare, orphanages, and workhouses, nor the plight of prostitutes and thieves, but he caused a huge sensation and social stir in England and abroad that shed a harsh, unyielding light on those things. He inspired through storytelling. And yet … and this is important, because all ENFP writers struggle with it … his story often ran away with him. His books are LONG. His prose is difficult to read because he goes off on tangents, and rabbit trails that don’t always have a lot to do with the main plot, because on that day, his imagination took him for a ride.

Same thing happens with Victor Hugo, who I don’t admire as much as a writer, but who had equally great and downright epic ideas. He tended to focus far more on romantic idealism than Dickens, but his Ne is obvious in how often he will have a character make a statement, and then contradict it within a few lines. Hugo’s all-encompassing, broad worldview that refused to settle on any specific truths is evident in his ability to write from multiple perspectives — Valjean and Javert, two similar men who make very different choices.

But it doesn’t end there — he explodes the plot into a Revolution in the making, into the boys fighting that revolution, into the mini-romances playing out against it, then goes on to include massive chunks of historical information. He “rabbit trails” too, but not in a pure storytelling manner so much as his own (Fi) fascination with Parisian history. Same thing happens in The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Huge book. Thick book. Hard read, but underneath the trappings of extensive research, rabbit-trailing, exploration of theology and different concepts, is a relatively simple story about lust, obsession, persecution, and hatred. Again, to my knowledge, Hugo was not driven toward a specific cause (he was not necessarily “moralizing” through his books, merely exploring ideas and concepts) but his passion inspired renewed interest in Notre Dame. 

Both writers’ bucked convention in their personal lives, and wrote what they wanted to write regardless of how others perceived them. Both let their personal idealism influence their characters. And both are classic novelists, which just goes to prove that if an ENFP can concentrate on a project long enough to complete it, they have something special on their hands. 

Preference #49: The Pet/s You Two Get

Will: You both look around the pet store. Moving from one pet to another. “I don’t want a cat or a dog, those are typical animals,” you said passing up the dogs, scratching on the window to get your attention. Will sighed, “It’s your birthday, so choose anything you want,” he said, rubbing your forearms. You thought for a bit, “Oh! I know!” you exclaimed, moving from his arms, and making your way over to the tank. “Aren’t they cute?” you asked Will, he smiled while nodding. “Can I get them?” you asked him like a little kid. Will chuckled and kissed the top of your head. “Sure, I like turtles,” he said, going to get an employee.

Cole: You both stared at each other in defeat. You didn’t think looking for a pet would be this hard. Cole wanted a kitten, and you wanted a puppy. “Babe, a kitten is much cuter, and cats do really funny things,” Cole tried convincing you. “The puppy is cuter, and cuddly,” you said back. Cole sighed again, and you pouted a bit. “Can we please get the puppy?” you asked batting your eyelashes at him. He tried to avoid your gaze knowing that if he saw that look you were giving him, he’d give you anything. “How about we get both?” Cole suggested, finding a compromise. You smiled, “I like that idea,” you said, kissing his cheek as he let out a sigh of relief.

Dana: He wasn’t too keen on the idea. Dana was worried about them being too loud, and that it might create a problem when he got back from tour, and needed rest. You reassured him that they’d be nowhere around him when he came back from tour, and that the landlord said the walls were soundproof, so the noise wouldn’t be a problem. After much convincing, Dana finally decided to agree.  "How bad can three parakeets be,“ he said to himself as he watched you leave to find an employee.

Gabe: Since he already had Batman and Robin, you didn’t want to get any more dogs. "Aw look at them, they’re so cute,” you said playing with a bunch of the kittens. You noticed Gabe wasn’t near you, and looked around. “I bet he’s by the dogs,” you muttered. You stood up and was making your way to the dogs when you noticed him bending down looking through a cage. “Babe, come here,” he said, looking over his shoulder, and waving you over. You walked over, “What?” you asked, bending down next to him. You awed at the bunnies, “We should get that one, she’s so adorable,” he said. You giggled a bit, “How do you know it’s a she?” you asked, he pointed to the sign on the cage. “Light brown bunny, her name is Maggie,” he muttered. “Let’s get her then,” you said, making him light up with joy.

David: The both of you were spending your Friday curled up on the couch, watching movies. It wasn’t dark out, just around noon, but the both of you had a day off. You had paused the movie to use the bathroom. David was looking through his phone when he heard whimpering from outside. He looked up, and went towards the patio door. “Hello?” he shouted, once the door was open. When he didn’t hear anything, he closed the door. He stopped abruptly when he turned around, startled by the puppy staring back at him. “BABE!?” he shouted. You walked into the living room also stopping. “I’m pretty sure we don’t have a dog,” you said. “Hi, cutie,” you cooed, picking the dog up. “I didn’t even notice him walk in,” David said confused, looking back outside. “He doesn’t have a collar,” you said inspecting the dog. After much thought, and no response from the flyers, you both decided to adopt the puppy.