or rewatch it a half dozen times this week like i have

anonymous asked:

can i has more cr sense8 au percy pls? (if your up for it of course)


“I’m still not certain we should be doing this.“

It was a meaningless statement even before he said it. With her arm in his, with the warmth of her against his side and the tinkle of her laugh fading in the air, Percy thought he would trust Vex to lead him down any icy path through the woods, with any blindfold on or off, even if he had never known her more intimately than he knew himself. Even if they had just met, somehow, one day, and she had smiled and beckoned, he would have followed.

Exaggerated gagging noises broke into his thoughts—Vax, visiting as almost always, making Vex laugh in the cold Northern darkness. The drugs all but gone from his veins, Percy could feel him again, that knife’s edge of sarcasm prickling over devotion deep enough to fill the sea.

Two (one? three?) months of isolation was turning him poetic. It was horrifying.

“It’ll be fine,” said Vex, tugging him forward. “Turn right—”

Percy followed her instructions obediently. “I don’t know where you get the confidence that she won’t be looking, just this one night. It’s not like the holidays have stopped them before.”

“Because she’s loony, Freddie,” Vax said with overwhelming fondness.

Keep reading

A Night In.

Jughead Jones was typing on his laptop when he felt two familiar hands slide over the side of his face and cover his eyes. He smiled as he heard a giggle behind him.

“Guess who,” the voice teased.

Jughead felt giggles resounding from behind his booth, “Hmm,” Jughead paused, “Your voice sounds awfully giddy.”

The voice sounded disappointed, “So, you’re not going to guess?”

Jughead grinned and thought of something that would annoy Betty, “Fine – Veronica Lodge?”

“Jughead!” Betty moved her hands away from his face and slid into the booth next to him.

“So, what’s the occasion, Betts? You seem excited about something.”

Betty clapped her hands together, still smiling, “Oh, I am! Guess what it is?”

Jughead grinned. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited that Betty was here, “I have no idea, Betts. You tell me.”

“Jug, I just got the restored edition of Once Upon a Time in the West on Blu-ray!”

Jughead’s face perked up, “Really? I’d love to see that, Betts. That’s one of the greatest Westerns of all time. Plus, I’m a bit of a cinephile.”

Betty smirked, “I know, which is why I was wondering if you wanted to come over this weekend to watch it?”

Jughead couldn’t deny the feeling that started to envelope his lower stomach. This certainly wasn’t the first time they had watched movies in her room. He could recall half a dozen times when he’d been to her house to watch a movie. Nothing had ever happened, but lately they had started snuggling a little bit closer during these “movie nights.” A few weeks prior, Betty had fallen asleep on him. He’d be lying to himself if he denied there weren’t deeper feelings there. Jughead kept it a closely guarded secret that he had been in love with Betty Cooper since he was 11. He had never acted on his feelings though. But something was different now. Lately, he found himself daydreaming more and more about her. He wanted to kiss her, but if she didn’t feel the same, he was worried it would compromise the friendship they already had.

Jughead coughed a little, “This weekend? What do you mean, Betts?”

“Well, I got a lot of other DVD’s that I’ve been meaning to watch like Metropolis. And I’d love to rewatch Charade…um…if you’re interested. I was thinking we could have a movie marathon.”

Jughead laughed nervously, “Oh – er - right.”

Betty paused, “Um, my parents are going out of town. If it gets late you could just – I don’t know – crash on the couch or whatever.”

And just like that, Jughead knew. Her implication to come over for “the weekend” had to mean something more than just hanging out, didn’t it? Jughead looked up at her and grinned. He held back a little though, for fear of appearing too eager. He thought he could detect the faintest hint of nervousness in Betty’s voice. He was feeling nervous, too.

Betty cleared her throat, “So Friday, my house?”

He was feeling nervous again. As the two of them got up to leave he gave her a nod, “Okay, Betts. Sure.”

“Great,” Betty smiled and walked up to him, “See you Friday, Jug.” Suddenly, Betty looked at him, planted a swift kiss on his cheek, and left the diner.

Jughead stared after her. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. He didn’t want to.

Jughead and Dilton Doiley were sitting on a bench in the locker room, they had just gotten out of P.E.

“Hey, Jughead. Got any plans this weekend? If not, I’m free.”

“Yeah, Betts and I are probably going to watch a movie at her place.”

“Oh, okay man.”

Reggie, still wearing a towel around his waist, sauntered over to the duo, “Woah. What’s this I hear? Riverdale’s own moody loner is taking a break from writing his manifesto?”

Jughead rolled his eyes, “Hardly, Reggie. Betty and I are watching movies at her house. We do that all the time, dude.”

Reggie looked at him incredulously, “Dude, are you gay?”

Annoyed, Jughead replied, “Reggie, dude, that slur your throwing around so casually is not pc.”

Reggie waved his hand, “Whatever, Jughead. Look, you’re telling me that Betty Cooper invited you to watch movies at her house on a Friday night?”

Jughead crossed his arms somewhat defensively, “Yeah?”

“If you’re not gay, then are you ace?”

“Come again?”

“Are you asexual?”

“What? No.”

Reggie laughed in disbelief, “How are you not getting it man?”

“Getting what, Reggie?”

Reggie grinned, “Let me explain this to you in bro-code.”

Dilton Doiley rolled his eyes, “Oh, here we go.”

“Can it, Dilton. Look, Jughead. Let me break it down for you. Every day of the week has a certain meaning when it comes to dating. Take Mondays, for instance. Monday is what’s known as ‘the bargain date.’ Everyone’s at work that day, so bars have the best happy hour deals. And let’s be real, most people don’t go out that day because their too hungover from the weekend before.”

“Considering I’m not legally allowed to drink, how does this have anything to do with Betty and I, Reggie?”

“Getting there Jughead, patience. Tuesday is just an ordinary day of the week. If you like a girl, you can go on a date with her Tuesday and make additional plans for the weekend. Wednesday is the middle of the week. If someone asks you out that day, they may be interested or have nothing better to do. Could go either way. After Wednesday, well, that’s where things get more interesting.”

Jughead rolled his eyes, “Enlighten me.”

“Thursday is right before the weekend, if someone asks you out then, they might really like you. And Friday,” Reggie started to chuckle, “Friday is where you’re at, Jughead. It’s the This-Could-Be-Love-Date. Betty probably wants to spend the entire night with you, and probably Saturday as well. The two days kind of blend together. If you make it past Saturday night and into Sunday, then you’re in real trouble. Saturday night to Sunday morning is definitely the Be-My-Boyfriend day.”

“What are you saying exactly?”

“Dude, if Betty Cooper invited you over for ‘the weekend,’ she likes you man. Probably more than that, she really likes you.”

Jughead rolled his eyes, “It’s just a movie, we watch them all the time.”

Reggie acted defensive, “Fine, have it your way. But I’m right. Wait and see. If you need more advice, you know where to find me. Oh - and if she mentions anything about antique shopping – run, man!”

Dilton looked puzzled. Thinking about what Reggie said, Jughead watched him disappear into the back of the locker room.

By Friday evening, rain had started pouring down in Riverdale. Already in her pajamas, Betty was pacing in her room. There was no denying her feelings anymore. She liked Jughead. She had liked him for an embarrassingly long time. He had never tried to kiss her, but when he would come over to watch movies in her room, they always ended up snuggling. She made sure of it. The last time he came over, she had deliberately moved her head closer to his chest and allowed herself to fall asleep on him. When she had leaned into him, Jughead wrapped his arm around her waist. Betty looked out her window, the sight of which was blurred by the pouring rain. Still no sign of Jughead. Betty let out a loud sigh.

Later, Betty was sitting at her vanity when she heard the doorbell ring. She smiled and dashed out of her room. As she ran down the stairs, she could make out Jughead’s silhouette behind the glass of her parents front door.

Betty opened the front door to find Jughead soaking wet. He smiled back at her.


“Jug, oh no! Quick, come inside.”

Jughead obliged her. His black curls were plastered underneath his beanie. His face was sprinkled with drops of water.

Jughead shivered, “I got caught in the rain about ten minutes from your house.”

Betty grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his. He noticed his breathing was a little sporadic. He wasn’t sure if it was the cold weather or the fact that she was holding his hand. Betty led him into the laundry room.

“Come on, Jug. I’ll help you dry off.”

As they stepped into the laundry room, Betty ran over to basket in the corner and grabbed a fresh towel. She walked back over to him and gently slid his beanie of his head, placing it on the counter. Jughead appreciated the delicate movements she used to take his hat off, he knew that she knew how fond he was of the old hat. Then, Betty wrapped the towel over his head to dry his hair.

““Jug, you should probably take off your shirt, it’s soaking wet.”

Jughead pulled his shirt over his head, wrapping the towel around himself. Betty blushed as she looked at him without his shirt off. She never noticed the light abs under his shirt before.

“I brought my pajamas with me, Betts,” Jughead paused and watched her grin. Her smile told him that what he had just said was okay.” I’ll go change.” Jughead blushed.

“You did,” Betty stammered, “I mean, you brought your pajamas?”

“Yeah, is that…”

“Oh, yeah, that’s ok! You can use my bathroom to change if you want.”

Betty waited for Jughead to change in the bathroom. As he stepped out of the bathroom, Betty noticed he was wearing a soft white cotton T-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. She grinned, giving him an approving glance. Had Jughead always been this cute?

“Do you want to get something to drink before we start the movie?”

Jughead grinned, “As long as we can have twizzlers, too. And popcorn.”

“Of course, what would our night be without snacks,” Betty grabbed his hand again, “Come on!”

Jughead sat down on the stool in the kitchen as Betty began to prepare something on the stove top.

“What are you making, Betts?”

“Hot chocolate, want some?”

Jughead nodded and grinned. He drummed his hands nervously on the countertop.

Betty turned around again to face him, “Peppermint sticks?”

“As long as you’re having some, too.”

Betty stuck a peppermint stick in her mouth while she boiled the chocolate on the stovetop. It was too big to fit in her mouth, so Jughead started laughing at her.

Betty pulled the peppermint stick out of her mouth, “Stop, Jug!” She stuck her tongue at him and put the peppermint stick back into her mouth. Betty poured the chocolate liquid into two mugs and handed him one. They walked up the stairs to her room slowly to avoid spilling the hot chocolate.

Jughead watched as Betty put her hot chocolate down and went to the corner of the room to light a candle. As the flames grew bigger, Betty whispered, “perfect.” Betty turned, her eyes meeting Jughead’s. He had put his hot chocolate on the vanity. His lips were pursed in a grin and his hands were in his pajama pockets.

Betty clapped her hands together and smiled, “So, movie?”

Jughead smiled at her as they both sat down on the floor. Betty put some pillows at the feet of her bed, so the two of them could lean against the back of it more comfortably. Betty started the movie, aware that Jughead was sitting just a few inches from her. About ten minutes in, she looked over at him, their eyes locking onto one another.

Betty wrapped her arms around one another, “I’m cold.”

Jughead got up and grabbed the warm blanket on top of her comforter. He walked back around the bed and sat next to her, spreading the blanket around the two of them. As they watched the movie, Betty allowed her side to lean on his, dropping her head onto his shoulder. This didn’t go unnoticed by Jughead, who looked down at her and grinned. He waited a few minutes before wrapping his arm around her. Jughead started to feel a gentle tension between the two of them as they continued watching the movie.

After what seemed like a long time, Betty found his hand on the arm around her shoulder and pulled it down, lacing her fingers in his. Jughead sighed. Betty took this opportunity to move closer to him, dropping her head onto his chest, the weight of her right side pressed against him a little closer than before. As they continued to watch the movie, Betty moved her other hand to play with his hair and then put it back down again, their breaths hitching in unison.

Jughead had already decided that he was going to kiss her. It wasn’t a matter of if, it was more a matter of when the exact moment would come. About halfway through the movie, Betty was wrought with emotions from scene on the tv, so she wrapped her arms around Jughead’s waist. He decided this was the right moment. Jughead turned to look at her. Betty looked at him, too, lips parted. He could feel their breathing change.

“Betty,” Jughead whispered.

Betty was looking at him expectantly. She smiled and said rather nervously, “What?”

“Come here.”

With one swoop, Jughead grabbed Betty and placed her perpendicular in his lap. He pulled his hands up to hold her face and went for it. As their lips met, Betty responded to his kiss favorably by kissing him back. Betty barely pulled away from his lips, eyes still closed. She let out a gently sigh and smiled, causing Jughead’s heart to skip a beat. Betty put her fingers on his cheek as she looked at him. She leaned in again to kiss him. As she pulled her mouth from his, she grinned.

“Bed?” Betty whispered, “It might be more comfortable than the floor.”

Jughead nodded. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her head down gently on her pillow. Jughead’s thumb rubbed her cheek gently as he looked at her lips. Betty pulled him in for more gentle kisses as she planted them on his lips one by one. Jughead trailed his lips down to her neck, planting a gentle kiss on it and then coming up to her lips again. He left one last gentle kiss on her lips before letting a sigh out on her face.

“Should we watch the rest of the movie?” Betty giggled.

Jughead pulled Betty into his lap again, spreading her covers of them. Still grinning, Betty hooked her arms around his neck. Jughead moved his hand down the back of her head, holding it gently in place.



“Am I - are we? You know, isn’t this what people like us do when we’re, you know…”

Betty gave Jughead a playful look, “I guess I kind of thought of you as my boyfriend for a while now, Jug.”

“What?! Since when? I wasn’t told this!” Jughead smirked.

“Since a couple of months ago?”

“And you didn’t think to let me know?”

Betty giggled.

“In that case, we are not watching that movie!”

Jughead pulled Betty down on the bed and pressed his lips to hers.

The next morning, Jughead woke up to find Betty’s head pressed against his chest. Her arms were still wrapped around him.


Betty smiled and leaned in to kiss him, pressing her lips against his.

“So, Betts, are we going to stay in and watch movies this entire weekend?”

Betty nodded.

That evening, after they had showered, Betty and Jughead were curled up in her bed again watching Charade. Before the movie, Jughead had been the one to shower first. He didn’t want to be too presumptuous by asking her to join him. He wanted to be choosy about how the two of them shared the day. He was going to bring up something important later that night, but he was worried that she might take it the wrong way and he didn’t want to risk that. He had planned on doing it for a while now, but wasn’t sure if she was on the same page. However, last night was all the confirmation he needed.

Jughead pulled Betty onto his lap again. He sighed as he ran his fingers through her hair, “Betty, can we talk?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s great.”

Betty placed her hand on his face, looking up at him, “So, what is it?”

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now, but I’m not sure how you’re going to react. And it’s just that, this is really hard for me because I’ve never really said this to anyone, but I would be lying to myself if I didn’t tell you.”

“Jughead, what is it? Your kind of worrying me.”

Jughead trailed his fingers along Betty’s jawline, “Promise you won’t get mad?”

Betty giggled, “I don’t know, Jug. That depends on what it is exactly.”

“Promise me, Betts?”

Both of Betty’s hands were cradling his face as she looked at him, “Okay.”

Jughead let out a loud sigh. He leaned in to kiss Betty and pulled away from her. He paused. Then the words slowly came out of his mouth, “I love you, Betty.”

Betty smiled, “That’s what you were going to tell me?”

Jughead felt nervous again, “Yes,” he found himself looking down at the bed.

“Why were you worried Jug?”

“I don’t know. I was worried you would think it was too soon or something, Betts. I’ve always loved you.”

Betty shook her head, “No, it’s not. It’s not too soon.”

“It isn’t?”

“Jughead Jones, I love you, too!”

Betty pushed him down on the bed and began kissing him. When they both came up for air, Jughead yanked Betty’s shirt off and pulled her into him. Enjoying that her kisses were eliciting soft moans from his lips, Betty pulled Jughead’s white tank top over his head. He pulled her lips back to his, gently slipping his tongue into her mouth. As their bodies tangled together, Betty could barely contain the heavy breathing she was doing beneath him. Jughead paused. He cradled her head in his hands and smiled at her.

“What’s wrong, Jug?”

“Betty, maybe we should stop.”

“I don’t want to stop. Do you?”


Betty began to kiss him again.

Jughead pulled his lips away from hers gently, “Betts, not that. Not yet, it’s everything to me. You’re everything to me. Let’s not rush into doing that. I want it to be special for us.”

“For us?”


“So, you haven’t had sex either, Jug?”

Jughead blushed. “No, of course not. Who would I have done that with? I’ve been in love with you since the seventh grade.”

Betty smiled and brushed a black curl out of his eye, “You’ve liked me that long?”

“Yeah. I just want everything to be perfect when we finally do that, Betty. I don’t want to rush it.”

“Jug, can I ask you something?”


“If you’ve liked me that long, did you ever kiss anyone else?”

Jughead felt his face growing hot, “No, I was kind of saving my first kiss for you. Please don’t give me a hard time about it, ok?”

Betty giggled, “Okay, Juggie.” She kissed him, whispering on his lips, “Maybe…”


“Maybe,” Betty paused, “I don’t know – we could – do other things?”

Jughead cleared his throat. He felt a little nervous by the implication of what she was saying, “Like what, Betts?”

“Kiss me and find out.”

Jughead grinned and pulled her in for an intense kiss.

Jughead woke up the next day with Betty tangled up in him.

When he went to school Monday, Reggie caught him in the hallway.

Reggie grinned, “Well, Jughead. You look smugger than I’ve seen you in a while man. In fact, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you smile. Did you dust the cobwebs from the corners of your mouth, bro? I was right, wasn’t I?”

As irritating as it was, Reggie had been right about nearly everything. Jughead had gotten the girl, exchanged ‘I love you’s, and they had nearly had, well not quite, but…Jughead smiled. At least he had managed to avoid antique shopping for now, anyways.

Jughead grinned and looked up at Reggie, “Shut-up, Reggie.”

more works on Ao3http://archiveofourown.org/works/11010855

The Lady & The Shark


Put on your tin-foil hats and buckle up for a ride to Crazy Town, folks. I admit this one is out there.


In late July of 1974, a 13-year-old girl walking her dog in the dunes outside of Provincetown, MA, followed her beagle into a stand of stunted pines, and nearly stepped on the badly decomposed body of a young woman. For a time, the inconclusive investigation into her death gripped all of New England.

An attempt had been made to remove her head, probably with the blade of a shovel, but the decapitation had been unsuccessful. The killer had better luck taking off her hands, which were never found. Several teeth had also been removed, all part of an effort, one presumes, to make her impossible to identify. Her jeans and a blue bandana had been folded and placed beneath her head.

The press dubbed her the Lady of the Dunes and at the time of this writing, over 40 years later, no one has ever claimed her. She remains without a name or a history. Her killer has never been identified.

Much has been written about the Lady of the Dunes and I won’t bother to recap four decades of investigative work here. Deborah Halber dug about as deep into her story as anyone has ever gone in her book The Skeleton Crew: How Amateur Sleuths are Solving America’s Coldest Cases. I recommend it to anyone interested in the granular details of the Lady and also for readers of true crime in general.

For now, though, accept that to this day there are only a limited number of established facts. We know about the blue bandana and the Wrangler jeans. We know she was between the ages of 25 and 49 years old… although 30 seems a particularly good bet. She had expensive dental work. Her hair was auburn or red. She was fit, 145 pounds, and when she was discovered her hair was in a ponytail, captured by a holder with gold sparkles in it. There have been several attempts to reconstruct what she looked like. Here’s one of the most recent efforts:

That’s it. That’s what we know for sure. Everything else is conjecture. And in all the time since her death not one person has stepped forward to say, “I saw her. I met her a few weeks before she was found. I can tell you her name.”

But what if we’ve all seen her? What if she’s been in front of us for decades and we just never noticed?

Who’s in the mood for a ghost story?

Yeah. Okay.

So let’s talk about JAWS.


JAWS was filmed in Martha’s Vineyard in the summer of 1974. It was a famously challenging production; originally scheduled for 50 days of shooting, it took over 120 days to complete, and was continuously teetering on the edge of disaster. The work was worth it - it is the summer movie by which all other summer movies are judged. (The story of how the film got made is a fascinating narrative in its own right. Carl Gottlieb’s The JAWS Log is probably the single best recounting of those hot, desperate days on the beaches of Edgartown, MA)

It’s also my favorite movie. Nothing else is even close. It’s a story I’ve returned to again and again. I think I was nine the first time I saw it, on laserdisc, a format which predated VHS and DVD (God, I loved those big silver platters!). I’ve seen it at least once, almost every single year, ever since. I’m sure I’ve viewed the picture 25+ times. I can recite the lines in much the way a tent revival preacher can recite long passages of the Bible.

And yet I had never seen it on the big screen until this summer. In June, JAWS was unleashed on theaters once more to celebrate its 40th anniversary. Naturally, predictably, maybe inevitably, I was there. For the first time I saw the picture the way it was meant to be seen. On the big screen, baby, that shark’s mouth is just about wide enough to ride a bicycle into it.

I was watching in my usual tranced out state of dreamy pleasure… and then, suddenly, found myself half-lunging out of my seat, prickling with gooseflesh.

Now understand, I had only just finished reading The Skeleton Crew a few weeks before. The Lady of the Dunes is in many ways the centerpiece of the book, and unlike the other crimes Mrs. Halber explores, it remains infuriatingly unsolved. After finishing the book, I had spent a few minutes online, acquainting myself with the latest details… and studying the recreation of the Lady’s face.

And now, suddenly, impossibly, there she was… life-size and looking over her shoulder at me. There for a moment in a busy crowd scene, and then gone.

I settled back into my seat and after my pulse returned to normal, I was able to enjoy the film. By the time I got home I had mostly talked myself into believing I had fantasized the whole thing. Just to be sure, I queued up the scene in question my DVD and rewatched it, to see if my eye would find her once more. But no. At least on the 15″ screen of my MacBook Pro, at 11 at night, I was unable to spot her a second time.

But the thought wouldn’t leave me that my unconscious mind had, in fact, latched into something. In the weeks that followed I talked to several friends about what I had seen (or thought I saw). Finally, I broached the subject with an FBI agent I know socially. I expected a good bit of teasing. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and said, “You know, it might be worth going forward with your theory. There might be something in it. Odder ideas have cracked colder cases.”

With this modest encouragement, I watched the film yet again, going over the sequence in question on a big screen TV, frame-by-frame, with @VoodooDarling as an extra set of eyes.

@VoodooDarling saw her before I did.

Here’s that recreation of the Lady of the Dunes again.

And here’s a crowd scene that appears 54 minutes and 2 seconds into JAWS.

Is that her? On the left?

Isn’t it?

Let’s take a closer look.

Blue bandana. About 30. Fit, 145 pounds. I don’t believe those are Wrangler jeans, but a lady presumably owns more than one pair of jeans.

Is the Lady of the Dunes in JAWS?




I admit its pretty goddamn wild speculation. And yet…

And yet.

Let’s go a little further down this very dim, very narrow alley of fantastic conjecture.

It is impossible to say with complete precision when they filmed the “July 4th - Crowd Arrives” sequence, which is where this shot appears. But we know it was almost certainly shot in June, because they filmed all the “on island” scenes they could early. The water was too cold for swimming, and the malfunctioning shark wasn’t ready for the “at sea” material until late July.

We also know the Lady of the Dunes was alive in June and that the filming of JAWS was a big deal locally. Lots of folks turned up to try and get a peek at the stars, or the shark, or to see if they could sneak into a shot.

The geography works too. Martha’s Vineyard is a short hop from Provincetown. It would be no surprise at all if a girl summering on the Cape decided to take a few days to explore the Vineyard… especially with the added bait of celebrity to draw her in.

Of course this is far from being even vaguely conclusive. The girl in my isolated frame of JAWS wears a blue bandana, but what of it? In the next sequence, on the busy beach, there are half a dozen women wearing blue bandanas. It must’ve been the style. Furthermore, it sure would be nice if her hair was in a ponytail, looped with a holder that has gold thread in it. But her hair is loose. It would be great if those were Wrangler jeans, but my Google Fu suggests they aren’t.

Here’s all we really have: an extra who bears a startling resemblance to a girl who turned up dead, some coincidences of time and geography, and a writer of horror stories who has a “feeling.”

Not exactly case closed, huh?


I create fiction for a living and I am always my own first audience. Telling stories to myself (especially ghost stories) has been my great pleasure - and compulsion - since childhood.

I am under no illusions about the situation here. I was watching JAWS, under the influence of The Skeleton Crew, and my subconscious invented an exciting little story about the Lady of the Dunes on the spot. It was so good, I persuaded myself it might be true.

It IS a helluva what-if, isn’t it? What if the young murder victim no one has ever been able to identify has been seen by hundreds of millions of people in a beloved summer classic and they didn’t even know they were looking at her? What if the ghost of the Lady of the Dunes haunts JAWS?

I know: to believe an extra glimpsed in JAWS is the verysame woman killed outside of Provincetown is a leap into the extreme hypothetical. That said, before her death, this woman had a life, and some of that life was spent on the Cape during the summer of JAWS. The odds are long that the Lady of the Dunes appears in the picture… but maybe not unimaginably long.

I turn this possibility over to the greatest puzzle solving instrument humans have ever created: the Internet. Give JAWS another watch. Look for the Lady.

Did you spend the summer of 1974 on the Cape or on the Vineyard? Were you in JAWS? Who else was there, the day they captured you on camera? Who did you talk to between shots? What do you remember?

This woman does not have a name:

Does this one?

anon prompted:  hi if you’re still taking prompts, can you do “Imagine A keeps leaving gifts for B (chocolates, flowers, love letters, etc) as an obvious hint that they have an admirer. Except B is dense and gets confused as to why someone keeps leaving their shit all over their desk, bag, and locker.” for Minewt. up to you whichever one is A and B. Thanks!

anon prompted:  aww, can we get more fluffy minewt please?

an: i hope this is fluffy and cute enough :o  everyone’s love for this ship is wild, but it’s very under-appreciated, and i’m super excited that you guys keep sending me these lovely prompts to help the fandom grow uwu

can also be read here

The worst part of Newt’s work day is the end of it.

Which sounds odd out of context, but Newt spends the entire day bent over a desk, pencil or marker in hand and tongue poking out past his teeth while he polishes up a sketch for the art magazine he’s currently a member of.  He’s almost constantly plugged into this iPod, ignoring e-mails inviting him to birthday celebrations and retirement parties.  He’ll throw a few dollars into an envelope and sign a card, sure, but there’s a big difference between pretending to care and actually caring, and Newt doesn’t deal much with the latter.

The only person he actually enjoys seeing is (oddly enough) his boss, a cute man named Minho who has never been anything but kind to Newt.  He got the job almost immediately after they met for the first time and, over time, the two have grown quite close, despite how they tend to act while at work.

Keep reading

haley-e-73  asked:

I want to become a runner. How does one start out?

Okay so here’s what you need: a pair of running shoes what don’t hurt your feet. Some clothes that you’re okay with getting sweaty. A place to run. Some legs, preferably.

Mentally/spiritually, here’s what it takes:

  • 0% running skill. Literally none. If you’re capable of standing upright and moving one leg in front of the other BAM congrats you’re qualified
  • 20% something fun/interesting to hold your attention: good music, pretty scenery, an iPad with Netflix propped on the treadmill
  • 5% motivation
  • 75% tenacity

“5% motivation? What do you mean Chrissy? Isn’t doing something all about being motivated?”

Shut up shh no, strawman-argument, you’re wrong. Motivation aint done dick for no one, not in the long run (ba-dum-psh). Because motivation is a flighty little fuck and it’s a bad bad idea to rely on it. Motivation is when it takes 0 of your own effort to do something because your excitement is driving you.

Tenacity is when you’re tired and sluggish and a lil bit down on yourself and a lil bit sad and anxious but you get up, you find your running clothes, and you get the fuck to the gym anyway. Tenacity is knowing the difference between “I genuinely have too much homework tonight to go run” and “I have sort of a lot of homework, and I want to act like it’s ‘too much’ so I don’t feel bad about skipping.” Tenacity is setting goals and deadlines that you keep with the same steadfastness that you’d put behind a school assignment with a concrete due date, even though there’s no one to dole out repercussions if you miss them.

What I’m getting at is you’ll probably have 3-5 days at the start where you’re ~motivated~ and getting an exercise routine hammered out seems effortless because you’re on the path to self improvement. Then you’ll get tired, and it’ll get suckish, and life will get in the way, and “I suck at running anyway what do I even think I’m doing?” becomes a reality, and it’s hard. Do it anyway. Keep at it anyway. If your run is 15 minutes at 4mph–fuck it, do that. That works. Just don’t stop. Don’t give up.

Throughout middle school and high school, I’ve probably attempted half a dozen times to become someone who works out regularly. And I’d be motivated for a week, two weeks, maybe a month, then peter off and let it die. In December of 2014, I said to myself “Chrissy, you’re doing this. And you’re keeping with it. Because if you don’t, then it’s like all the other times you failed, and it’s worthless like all those other times.”

Today is March 3rd, 2016, 15 months later, and I got back about an hour ago from my typical 5-mile run. And it was fun. And it didn’t suck. And I made doofy faces at myself in the window while lip-syncing to a metal cover of Wrecking Ball then watched all of FMA:B episode 2 (I can quote about 85% of it), which I’m now re-rewatching after finishing the series on Sunday.

And it’s fun. I like it. Fucking hell I love it. After HATING it for the longest time at first. And I love it now because I pushed myself through every single day it sucked and did it anyway even when it was the worst possible thing. I still do have days when I just don’t want to, when the world is scary and stressful and it would be easier to not. I plow through anyway so I keep with it so I can enjoy nights like tonight where I had a blast.

TL:DR Running takes 0 physical skill and 100% personal willingness to get shit done even on the days you don’t want to because you’re strong as shit

anonymous asked:

Hey, so I noticed you mentioned you came into lll at ACCOSTED, and so binged the episodes up till then. I have this working theory that lll is actually a better experience binged than watched as it was releasing. I've seen a lot of people express this, and I think it has something to do with the tension of the conflict being spread over months as opposed to a matter of hours, leading to the perceived strength or weakness of the resolution. I'm wondering if you have thoughts on this at all?

Oh, I have tons of thoughts on this.

The upshot is that I think you’re correct. LoLiLo is simply too tense, for too long, at too slow of a pace. It’s unpleasant to watch in real time. For me it was almost sickening. The only experience I’ve ever had that comes close was reading Chapters 51 - 53 of the webcomic Gunnerkrigg Court as they were released – an experience that drove some other readers to take a break from the comic until the storyline was resolved and could be read all at once.

The small-doses release format works really well for telling stories on the internet; it makes stories part of your daily routine, and in some cases that creates a stronger connection to them than you might otherwise have. It allows stories to be told in real-time, and provides a system for creators to tell longer stories than they would if forced to release them in a single go. It gives stories time to build an audience via word-of-mouth.

But ever since those chapters of Gunnerkrigg Court, I’ve suspected that there are certain kinds of stories that the small-doses format makes too effective. Misunderstandings, undeserved reputations, people trapped in unjust systems, people trapped by their own faulty beliefs – pretty much any story that builds tension to unbearable heights so that it can be released, like a sigh, when the situation is resolved. The small-doses format prolongs the wait for catharsis, but it also prevents you from simply putting it out of your head for a few months, like you might do with a cliffhanger on a TV season finale. So you’re stuck in that tension for months, unable to really let it go unless you quit watching/reading.

Plus, LoLiLo is just generally slow-paced – it takes 19 episodes and nearly a month in real time to get to “RULES,” which is the first place where you can get a sense of what the story of LoLiLo is going to be. Compare The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, which takes only six videos (two weeks, real-time) to “introduce” Darcy. There’s over an hour of footage before LoLiLo’s inciting incident; LBD gets there in 15 minutes.

I don’t mind the slow pace, but it definitely benefits binge-watchers, because an hour isn’t so long to wait, when watched all at once. We’re used to waiting an hour for TV shows to tell us what they’re about. The West Wing takes 40 minutes to introduce the President. Most of the first hour of Lost is an incredibly well-shot but fairly standard stranded-on-an-island story. About half of all procedurals spend their first hours setting up the status quo that will hold for the rest of the season.

That said… Watching LoLiLo in one big gulp would’ve been a more pleasant experience, but I’m not sure I’d be as committed to it if I hadn’t watched those last dozen videos in real time. It heightened the experience, and it drove me to rewatch – and only through rewatching have I gotten a real sense of the story of LoLiLo. And there are a couple of places – notably, the break between “FAREWELL” and “Break ‘Dem Rules” – where I think the story loses all emotional sense if you don’t watch it in real-time. Watched as-it-aired, “Break ‘Dem Rules” is a relief, giving a welcome sense of closure after two weeks of “FAREWELL”-inspired confusion and upset. Watched immediately after “FAREWELL,” I imagine that “Break ‘Dem Rules” would just read as emotional whiplash; you’d go from “Leo has cancer” to “singing about how much happier we are” in ten seconds. (This is one reason that I don’t love the way “FAREWELL” was handled. It doesn’t play well in *any* format: In real time it’s frustrating, and on binge-watch it’s confusing.)

For all of its experiments with and departures from the format, LoLiLo is a vlogseries, and vlogseries are meant to be watched over time. That’s how the genre is designed. So probably, if I were to introduce someone new to LoLiLo (which I’m wary to do, because getting the full story out of it is quite a time investment), I would use a viewing strategy that breaks the series into large chunks, watched over the course of two or three weeks, no more than one per day:

Episode 1: “A Merry Note” - “RULES”
Episode 2: “FLAT” - “CEREAL” (+ interviews, viewed after Ben’s intro but before the challenge)
Episode 3: “MYSTERY” - “STAKEOUT”
Episode 4: “TRAGEDY” - “Fish In The Sea”
Episode 5: “Relatives and Reunions” - “PUNISHMENT”
Episode 6: “Bea and Ben Take on Embarrassment” - “BALTHDAY”
Episode 7: “Vegan Fred” - “Berry Nice”
Episode 8: “GUNGE” - “+confrontation+”
Episode 9: “Beatrice and Ballads” - “FAREWELL”
Episode 10: “Break 'Dem Rules”

Zoos Job would be watched at the viewer’s own pace, any time after Episode 8.

This divides LoLiLo into stretches of videos that cover roughly the same subject matter, preserving cliffhangers and letting each episode build to a major story beat. That way, you have time to sit with the story, to experience the tension and the mystery, to theorize and make guesses and even rewatch as you go – but you’re not left hanging for so long that it becomes painful.

And then, you know, I’d recommend the new viewer rewatch at whatever pace they like. :)

anonymous asked:

Carrie I need jack and bitty to cuddle so hard. Like watch movies and just cuddle. And maybe kiss a bit

Jack’s first year in the NHL keeps him busy, and he doesn’t come back to visit the Haus. Much. When he does, it’s a ruckus; everyone plies him for stories and there’ll be a party and if it’s a weekend where Shitty comes down from Harvard Law as well it’s doubly ridiculous. 

Eric’s in the corner, a streak of flour in his hair; he’d baked a half dozen pies for the party, even though Jack said he didn’t have to. Never change, Eric Bittle, Jack thinks fondly, watching as the new frogs look at wide-eyed from the corner. One of the new ones pokes Chowder and whispers, “Jack Zimmerman is on our couch.”

“Nope, Jack Zimmerman has a four am flight tomorrow, so he’s not on our couch. He’s taking a nap,” Eric says firmly, taking Jack by the elbow and leading him away from the party.

“Thanks, Bittle,” Jack says. He’s tired of the party already, but it was good to see everyone, and Shitty’s having a good time, and Eric– no, Bittle, or Bitty with the team– he looks good. Senior year suits him, and he weaves about the Haus with confidence and agility, and he smells like home in a way none of the four-stars hotels for away games never could.

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For Moffat Appreciation Week: Tribute to Clara Oswald

At the end of three wonderful seasons of Clara, I think it’s fitting that we go back to the very start of her time on the show. Clara’s character growth in Series 7 may not have always been at the forefront, but it was always there. The seeds of many of her most defining characteristics were sown earlier than most people think, and she develops a lot over the course of her first half dozen episodes. So this is a look back, a reminder of where Clara started, an of all the wonderful things that make up the woman we love.

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