#Elle Nash

[fetalabduction]

Avenging angel Dee Dee Adamssss 🥚

[books-i-once-read]

And what is the right way to deal effectively with being alive.

Gag Reflex by Elle Nash

[fuddlyduddly]

[whatcha-reading-today]

Animals Eat Each Other | Elle Nash

This is a gross little book about the ways we consume ourselves and others. Every character is terrible but the writing is so expressive and has some weird ideas. If you want to learn about tattoo sex which I did not know was a thing, that's in here!

Format: Physical copy

Read in: July 2024

[thehappyscavenger]

[marcogiovenale]

the 20th anniversary issue of 'sleepingfish' is now on line

This 20th anniversary issue features work by Steven Alvarez, Rosaire Appel, Ali Aktan Aşkın, Nat Baldwin, Niles Baldwin, Maeve Barry, Chiara Barzini, Mark Baumer, Emilio Carrero, Kim Chinquee, David-Baptiste Chirot, Bobby Crace, Anna DeForest, Federico Federici, Noah Eli Gordon, Mariangela Guatteri, John Haskell, Chelsea Hogue, Tim Horvath, Zebulon House (or Horse), Meiko Ko, Kelly Krumrie, Mary…

[some-little-infamy]

Another Step

(Read on AO3)

Bobby takes one step, and then another, focusing on finding a new center of balance with the weight he now carries with him. Compared to the mental and emotional weight he carries constantly, he barely feels the difference. Nothing weighs on him more than the memories, the shame, the guilt… Every time Bobby steps into a fire the weight of his gear pales in comparison to the weight of the responsibility he carries with him daily.

The heat of the desert sun, the heat of a flame, it's all the same to him. It's all just background for the daily redemption Bobby seeks.

With nothing but sand and rock in front of him for miles, Bobby wonders if this will be the time he's denied the chance to make amends for good: one final failure.

Leaving Amir behind hadn't even crossed Bobby's mind. He’s aware that the extra weight cuts his own chances of making it to the highway Amir directed him towards less likely with every stride forward, but it doesn’t matter. He’s making it there with Amir or he isn’t making it there at all.

There’s a horrifying realization as that thought occurs to Bobby that he feels something close to relief at the idea of dying out here.

Does he want to die?

No. He isn’t suicidal. He has too much blood on his hands left to atone for. And the living… he has people who depend on him. People he can’t abandon. His mind turns to Athena, to Henry and May, to Buck and Eddie, to Chimney and Hen… no, he doesn’t want to die. He has so much to live for, so much work left to do…

Another step. Another… step. His pace falters but doesn’t stop.

But does he deserve to live, even if it’s in constant service of his past mistakes? Maybe Amir had a point before, that Bobby’s current contentment, his happiness, is a slap in the face to everything and everyone that came before. He doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t think, but maybe God is finally stepping in to take away the life he should’ve lost years ago. Maybe he has done enough, and now the scales are even.

Another step. Another. Step. Slower, his feet dragging in the sand, unable to lift fully.

Can he accept that? Bobby, the man who never imagined a moment in which he would feel as if he made up for everything he lost, everything he took from others… can he accept the idea that maybe he’s done enough?

No. The answer comes to him immediately, unbidden and unwanted, but there just the same. This isn’t over. He isn’t done.

Another step. Ano..ther… step…

Bobby stumbles, falling down to one knee. His eyes close tight against the pain that shoots up through the point of impact, and it takes a few seconds of focused breathing to will himself to push back up onto his feet. It takes another minute for him to start moving again. There’s a dull throb accompanying every step, but a part of Bobby welcomes the pain. It alerts him just a bit, sharpening the dull edges of his thoughts.

Bobby may have lost his entire life in the fire back in Minnesota, but he took the entire lives of so many others, Amir included. If it’s the last thing he does, he’s going to give back the one thing he can - he can bring Amir back to safety here and now. Bobby has to believe that something put him in Amir’s path here and now, that something drove Bobby to seek him out today of all days, when Amir would need help the most.

Bobby has to believe that he can succeed in this, or else why would he be here?

Bobby takes another step. They’re stronger with his new resolve, a second wind that lasts only fifteen or so minutes, but it’s fifteen more minutes of progress than he made before. Fifteen minutes closer to the highway. Bobby can’t pretend to know how far he’s gone or how far he has left to go, only that he has to keep going.

Another step. Another step. Another. Step. Another… step…

Bobby’s eyes close, taking longer to open back up with every new blink, until they don’t open up. Bobby isn’t sure if he falls asleep or blacks out, but he does it mid-step and comes to as his face impacts with the rough ground below.

Bobby doesn’t open his eyes back up right away… not even when he hears the sound of voices, assuming he’s imagining them. A hallucination, a mirage. There’s a female voice… Athena? If he had to hear one last voice in this world, if he got to choose, her voice is the one he would wish for. He imagines her smile, the feel of her touch…

No, he isn’t imagining that. There’s a touch on his arm, gentle hands taking his pulse and turning him over, placing water to his dry lips. Bobby has enough presence of mind to shift as best he can to see Amir, still breathing, still alive.

They did it.

It’s going to be okay. This one thing is going to be okay.

If even this can be alright, then Bobby has to believe that nearly anything can, and Bobby clings to that hope for the future.

[fledermausbend]

Even the adults play pretend too.

[fetalabduction]

I like deliver me

[magicpotiondaily]

Critics Choice Awards 2023 - fave looks ♥️

~ Britt Lower, Phoebe Dynevor, Amy Brenneman, Niecy Nash, Anya Taylor-Joy, Elle Fanning, Kate Hudson, Cate Blanchett, Rhea Seehorn, Adam Scott, Tyler James Williams, Daisy Edgar-Jones, Thuso Mbedu, Eve Hewson, Matt Smith, Jin Ha, Soji Arai, Jay Ellis, Brendan Fraser, Niv Sultan, Austin Butler, D’Arcy Carden, Lewis Pullman, Amber Midthunder, Quinta Brunson, Jessie Buckley, Aubrey Plaza, Marcia Gay Harden, Seth Rogan, Viola Davis, Anna Sawai, Andrew Garfield, Chelsea Handler, Stephanie Hsu, Jen Tullock, Monica Barbaro, Michelle Yeoh, Billy Eichner, Brian Tyree Henry, Paul Dano, Glen Powell, Stephen Lang, Henry Golding, Giancarlo Esposito

[ariesmusingz]

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ╱ one syllable name masterlist ( below the cut is #181 one syllable first names. they are a mixture of feminine, masculine and neutral names, but please use as you see fit. please like / reblog if you found useful. )

air

anne

art

ash

ayn

banks

bay

bear

beck

bee

bell

ben

bess

birch

bird

blair

blaise

bliss

blue

blythe

bo

bram

branch

bree

britt

brock

brooke

brooks

cal

cale

carl

cash

cat

ceil

chance

charles

chris

clare

clay

cole

cort

cove

crew

cy

dale

dan

dane

dash

dax

day

dean

dove

drew

dune

elle

eve

faith

fay

fern

finn

firth

fox

frank

frost

gael

gage

grant

gray

greer

gus

gwen

hal

hank

hayes

hope

huck

hugh

jack

jade

james

jane

jay

jett

joan

joe

john

joy

jude

june

kai

kate

kay

kent

kerr

king

kit

knox

lake

land

lane

lark

lee

leith

lou

love

lux

luz

mac

mae

max

maeve

mark

maude

max

miles

nash

nate

neil

nell

north

nyx

oak

paige

paul

pax

pearl

penn

pierce

pike

poe

price

psalm

puck

quinn

ralph

ray

reed

reese

rex

rose

roy

ruth

sage

saint

sam

sean

seth

shane

shay

sim

sloane

snow

storm

tai

tate

tay

tess

thad

tom

true

truth

ty

vale

van

vaughn

vern

wade

walt

wes

west

whit

will

win

wolf

wren

wynn

yahn

zack

zane

zeke

zen

[dailytomlinson]

London recap

Louis showed up wearing a Saul Nash rib tank top paired with Saul Nash trackpants

Setlist had 22 songs

Special intro saying “London sold out! Thank you!”

Louis’ 1st speech: “I have been so overcome with emotion coming out here tonight. I don’t remember ever feeling like this on stage. Look at what we’ve fucking done! Look at what we’ve done! I can’t really put my emotions into words right now, I feel very, very overwhelmed, I feel very, very proud of what we’ve achieved together, together. I might even have a little cry tonight, who knows! Alright then, fucking ‘ell, we’re here, we’re here.”

Louis’ 2nd speech: “Oh, this is fucking crazy. This is crazy. I’m trying to find the right words, but honestly? I’m just… in awe of what we’ve fucking created. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t really have any other words other than thank you very much. This is… No, let me try [find the words]. I should try harder, this is my time at The O2, I’ll give it a go. This is… It felt like it took me— let me do it like last time [squats] It felt like it took me a long time to get here, a long time to get here. And even when I dreamt – and I mean this wholeheartedly – even when I dreamt of what touring might look like, never in a million fucking years did I think I’d play here. Never, never. I spent like the first 3 or 4 songs of this gig like– I’m always like this, and it’s fucking annoying; after every lyric, every moment, I’m cross referencing in my head ‘how was that?’ FUCK THAT! FUCK THAT! I hope you all feel as proud as I do on this stage tonight. Alright, before I fucking choke up, alright…”

Louis appreciating his band:  “London O2, let’s take a picture! [gets the band around him] But before we do, I do wanna take this special opportunity– [looks at his band who starts moving away] no no no, stay where you stood! I’ve spent the last two years or so touring with the most incredible band in the world. Thank you, thank you, thank you boys. I fucking love you, tonight’s for us. Give it up for my fucking incredible band!”

Louis’ last speech: “Alright, last thing, last soppy thing. I got something on my mind, right. Normally, in this kind of situation for me, this is too much fucking pressure man; O2, sold out?! You lot, unbelievable right. This might be the first time in my career – I might’ve bullshitted in the past right – this might be the first time in my career where I have been under pressure tonight, and I feel fucking great about it. I’ve said it before, but you don’t have that confidence onstage unless you know you’ve got the best fucking fans in the world. I never feel like I can find the words to ever truly thank you, but thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Saturdays light project: here / here / here

Closing: Silver Tongues

[thehappyscavenger]

Books Read October 2023

Deliver Me by Elle Nash

Working class Americana with a surreal edge. I've always admired Nash without connecting with her. This one's the best of hers I've read.

My Time Among the Whites by Jennine Capó Crucet

This is one of a billion recs I got during Latino heritage month. LOVED IT. Essays from Capó Crucet on growing up Cuban in Florida and how she came to be conscious of her class and race when she went to a majority white ivy.

The Break by Katherena Vermette

This won about a bajillion awards, was a national best seller and came highly recommended. Absolutely hated it, it was exploitative crap.

Skin Thief by Suzan Palumbo

Excellent collection of creepy short stories. I think there was only one I found kind of boring but the rest were solid to amazing.

Pale Fire by Vladamir Nabakov

I'd been wanting to read this for like 10+ years. I definitely overhyped it in my head. A beautifully constructed work with many of my favourite aspects of Nabakov at play (and play is truly the right word, he is having fun here), but not something I emotionally connected with.

[dumbthink]

list of random characters I think Nadine would sleep with (feel free to reply with more):

Elle woods

saul goodman

Jesse pinkman

bowser

princess peach

anyone/everyone from house md

Bobby nash

the ghoul fallout

sheldon bazinga

charlie always sunny

dennis always sunny (sadly)

harley quinn

[measureformeasure]

@lesbiancassius' (very late) february reads

yes I will do this monthly now.

books (as it turns out, I was busy. one book)

Enter Ghost, Isabella Hammad - An actor, Sonia, returns to visit her sister Haneen in Haifa and gets caught up in playing Gertrude in a Hamlet production in the West Bank. Stellar.

short fiction & poetry

Why Don’t We Just Kill the Kid in the Omelas Hole, Isabel J. Kim - obsessed with this on title alone. It has such a feel to it in the way it moves that I envy.

Parthenogenesis, Piya Patel - horror that makes me want to peel out of my skin and/or get a hysterectomy.

Eschatology, Eve L. Ewing - poem that was circulating recently and God. Fuck, dude. Yeah. Yeah.

Ouroboros, Megan Xing - The to-do lists in this got me because I was having my little freak out before my show went up where you think you can fix everything with to-do lists. Also heavily feeling replacing ineffective psych meds with yogurt, a pickle, and two advil.

I also read Cancer Buffet by Mary Hannah Terzino and Soft Opening by Elle Nash, but I was tired and don’t remember them.

(some) articles

Who Was Barbie? (A Symposium), n+1 magazine - this cemented to me that I truly, truly do not care about Barbie or the Barbie movie and if I have to hear anything about it ever again I'm smashing a bowl on purpose

A bunch of Hera Lindsay Bird’s advice column, which is delightful.

Let’s talk about Goodreads, Nicole Brinkley. There are many days I am glad I do not want to pursue a career as solely an author of novels. Godspeed to the authors out there you're braver than I will ever be.

Saving a Life, Patricia Lockwood - my god I have got to read a Patricia Lockwood book, and also my god getting grievously ill on vacation is one of my greatest fears so this one made me a little bit crazy.

The Secret Life: On the poet Molly Brodak, Patricia Lockwood - again, my god, I need to read a Patricia Lockwood book.

A Final Checklist Before You Print up Your Play, Rick Roberts - this reminded me so much of Joshua McGuire’s Rules For Writing Libretto, which I think of a lot.

“I think the word is dignity” — Rachel Corrie’s Letters from Gaza — I don’t know what to say. Read these if you can. They’re striking.

The Sexual Status of Aeschylus’ Cassandra, Paula Debnar - I can put an academic paper here you're not the boss of me. why I opened this one I don't remember but I was fervently texting friends in the middle of a certainly unrelated class about it because I've never been normal about Kassandra and Klytemnestra and I'm not going to start now.

tv/movies

Rewatching Severance, slowly.

Rewatching Sort Of, less slowly - this is probably niche to non-Canadian readers but it is a very good show.

Watched The Prince, which was a long time coming, and then wrote a paper about it. Bless.

tbr/nightstand

in the midst of Salvage the Bones, which is of course very good

Helen of Troy: from Homer to Hollywood

I'm gonna be rereading like every play off my Shakespeare class syllabus for the final which I wish I was more excited about

[some-little-infamy]

to be rained on with you

(Read on AO3) 

Eddie’s looking through the fridge for a drink when the single lightbulb flickers, sending the shelf of milk and juices into darkness that’s lit up a moment later by a startlingly bright flash of lightning. It takes a few seconds for the lights to return, accompanied by a rumble of thunder so strong Eddie swears it makes the floor shake beneath his feet.

He glances at the clock again - their shift is supposed to start in under five minutes and there’s no sign of Buck. Not that this would be the first time Buck showed up just before the secondhand ticked over the giant 12, or even the first time he’d be late if he doesn’t make that, but he has a bad feeling about this particular absence. Nights like these are always their busiest nights, full of car accidents on rain-slick roads and fires caused by lightning strikes or people leaving candles unsupervised during power outages. This isn’t the sort of shift that Buck would just bail on and leave them short during, not unless something was seriously wrong.

Bobby walks up the stairs, cell phone to his ear and eyebrows drawn together as he speaks. “Of course. We’ll see you next shift,” Bobby says, frowning as he hangs up the phone.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.

“Buck just called out,” Bobby says.

“Kind of last minute,” Eddie observes. “Did he say why?”

“He said he wasn’t feeling well all of a sudden,” Bobby says, his voice carrying the same lack of conviction that Eddie feels.

Eddie bites down on his lower lip, glancing from the clock on the wall to the front door, then back over at Bobby. “Listen, Cap, I know-” “Go,” Bobby says before Eddie can even finish. They share the same look of growing concern on their faces. “He sounded rough on the phone. We’ll be alright here.”

Eddie almost asks if he’s sure but his desire to check on Buck overrides his desire to make sure Bobby’s really thinking through being down two firefighters tonight.

“Thanks,” Eddie says instead, grabbing his keys and jacket and heading out into the storm.

---

“Buck?” Eddie rings the doorbell for a third time, knocking several more for good measure.

Buck’s truck was outside when he pulled up so he knows Buck’s home. Maybe he just can’t hear it over the wind sending sheets of rain against the side of the building on top of all the thunder. That doesn’t answer why Eddie’s two attempts to call Buck’s cell have both gone to voicemail, though.

Screw it. Eddie pulls his keys out of his pocket, singling out the spare Buck made him for emergencies and opening the front door with it, shutting it quickly behind him.

“Buck?” Eddie calls out, looking around. The curtains are drawn shut on every window. All of the lights are on and the TV is blasting at full volume even though Buck is nowhere in sight.

“Buck?!” Eddie’s voice has an edge of urgency now because this isn’t normal.

He walks over to the television and turns it off, listening for any other sign that Buck is in here somewhere now that he can hear himself think again.

That sign comes with a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder - it’s a small yell, more like a yip of surprise than an actual cry, that sounds from upstairs. Eddie follows the sound without hesitation.

“Buck?” he tries again, moving faster up the stairs when he thinks he hears movement from Buck’s bedroom. It isn’t a large space to search - there’s no sign of him anywhere in the open bedroom layout. The bathroom door is closed, though, and Eddie swears he hears a curse from inside the room as he approaches, making no attempt to hide his footsteps as he approaches the door.

Eddie pauses outside of the closed door, wondering if he should bother knocking just to be ignored again.

“Buck?” he calls out one last time, surprised to find his voice waver ever so slightly. “Open up!”

“It’s… it’s open.”

Eddie barely hears Buck’s voice through the door, quiet and shaking and so full of fear it causes a physical ache in Eddie’s chest to hear it. Eddie opens the door, still surprised to find it unlocked despite the fact that Buck just told him it would be. It feels too easy, after all the ignored attempts to reach Buck previously.

Except, of course, Buck isn’t in his bathroom to hide from anything he can lock out with the turn of a key. Eddie sees Buck sitting in the tub, back pressed against the furthest wall, knees pulled up to his chest. With the door open, the flash of lightning that briefly illuminates through the bedroom curtains causes Buck’s entire body to convulse, folding in on himself even more. Every single visible muscle pulls taut and his eyes squeeze shut, his entire body trembling.

“Oh, Buck,” Eddie says, shutting the door behind him before taking two large steps forward to clear the bathroom before climbing into the tub with Buck, with no hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” Buck says. It’s obvious he’s trying to keep the previous quiver from his words but they’re barely even.

“Don’t be. It’s alright. You’re alright,” Eddie says, reaching his hands out to wrap around Buck’s shoulders. He moves slowly so that Buck has plenty of time to stop him or shift away. Instead, Buck leans into the touch, moving so that his body half-leans against Eddie’s side.

“I’m not,” Buck says, and that confession is enough to turn his barely-steady words into a full sob, one that tears through his entire body. “Does this look alright to you?” Buck says with a bark of a laugh that contains no actual amusement.

“You’re going to be alright. What can I do?” Eddie asks.

“You’re doing it,” Buck admits. “You’re here.”

Eddie’s glad that Buck can’t see his face from where he has his head resting on Eddie’s chest, face angled down. If he could, he’d see a lot more than Eddie would’ve planned on showing because he can’t contain the way that statement makes his own heartbeat race.

“And I’m not going anywhere. Though maybe we could move this somewhere a bit more comfortable?” Eddie suggests.

“I wanted to bring a couch cushion in but, well, no couch,” Buck says. When Eddie levels him with a confused look and a raised eyebrow Buck explains. “In a major storm, the safest place is in your bathtub with a couch cushion over you so you’re covered on all sides. Tubs have the strongest attachments to the foundation.”

So that’s it, then. He hasn’t come right out and asked, and Buck hasn’t exactly offered the information, but it’s obvious enough what’s going on here. If his suspicions at the station weren’t enough this pretty much proves it. Eddie’s seen - and experienced - enough PTSD to know what this is.

“Alright,” Eddie says, carefully maneuvering into a standing position. Buck’s eyes widen, and for a moment Eddie thinks he’s going to reach out and stop him. “I’ll be right back,” Eddie promises just so Buck knows he isn’t leaving.

Pausing by the door, Eddie waits until he sees the flash of lightning from the slight crack between the floor and the door before opening the door and shutting it quickly behind him, keeping Buck as sheltered from the storm as possible. Then he sets to work grabbing pillows, a blanket, a water bottle he fills half with water and half with ice cubes, and Buck’s laptop. He waits outside the door for the next flash of lightning before hastily opening and closing the bathroom door again.

“What’s all that?” Buck asks. He seems a little better already just from having the distraction of Eddie’s presence.

“Supplies,” Eddie says. “Put these down.”

Buck shifts enough to get one pillow underneath him and place the other beside it. Eddie sets the laptop up on the closed toilet seat, hitting play on a ridiculous comedy that Buck’s been trying to get him to watch for ages called ‘Spaceballs’. He sets the water on the ledge of the tub beside Buck before sliding into the space at the back of the bathtub, pulling the blanket in after him.

He wants to ask Buck a million and one questions, but he doesn’t want to force him to talk about something he’s clearly not ready to share or even face himself yet. So he’s going to do the next best thing - he’s going to be here with him. If Buck wants to talk, he’ll be here. And if he doesn’t, Eddie’s still going to be here.

He only hesitates when he realizes that there aren’t a lot of ways for two grown men to be comfortable sitting in a tub small enough to fit the layout of this tiny loft bathroom.

There’s a particularly loud rumble of thunder and Buck flinches backward. Eddie reaches out instinctively to steady him and uses the opportunity to pull Buck closer to him so that Eddie’s leaning against the back of the tub and Buck is sitting in front of him, facing forward, pulled back against Eddie’s stomach.

“Is this alright?” Eddie asks.

Buck doesn’t say anything but Eddie feels his head nod up and down against him, taking the blanket and draping it over his legs, keeping one corner of it balled up tight in his hands.

They can talk later, and Eddie can help Buck pick up the pieces in the aftermath. It isn’t ideal, but it’s enough to get Buck through this storm.

Eddie pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Bobby.

E: Hey Cap, I don’t think I’ll be back tonight. Is that alright?

Bobby replies within seconds.

B: Do whatever you need to do. Just keep my kid safe, alright?

Eddie gives the smallest of smiles at his phone screen.

E: Will do.

It’s a promise that’s easy to keep.