#based on a true story edit

[priquintana]

PRISCILLA QUINTANA as Ruby Gale in BASED ON A TRUE STORY, 1.05 - Ted Bundy Bottle Opener

[billiethereaper]

You ran into a problem and needs to restart. ↳ Stop code: ACPI_BIOS_ERROR

  r̸̨̢̫̎́̑u̵̙̍́n̵̫̝͍͑͆̾,̷͎͙͇͑͘ ̶̟̐̐̌ṛ̵̿ü̷̯n̵͎̲̦̿̄̏,̸̙͓̾ ̴͎̓ŕ̶̬̭̇u̶̧͋̂͐n̶̮͂͝ ̵̜̟̂͑ạ̸̣͚͌̐w̶̦̬̮̋a̵̛̯̥̓͜ẙ̷̲̖

[troythecatfish]

Classic Harvey Weinstein L

[seventh-fantasy]

friendships as marital ties (and other notes on relational ties) in mlc

this is sort of a third installment in the series of meta on 'mlc as an exemplar of constructing queer narratives out of chinese ideological frameworks' (1. jianghu as queer space and 2. how it manifests in li xiangyi) - focusing on the nature of relationships in it. (which I've briefly mentioned in the first one and finally actually getting to it!!)

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I would like to first call attention to chinese ideological frameworks as a premise of queer reading in mlc. the goal of chinese philosophy is to explore the becoming of human, taking two broad paths of the (mainstream) secular vs. escaping the secular. (these two paths are not a strict dichotomy, and rather, are ever in flux and in conversation with each other.) as said by @markiafc too, chineseness is so much about the rigidity of structures, and in equal part, a desire to break out of them. thus, chinese ideological frameworks can very much offer a rich reading of queerness - that mlc, a story very deliberately structured based on chinese ideologies (more accurately, with good reasons for me to believe that it is as such), has managed to materialise.

if the conceptualisation of queerness is premised on a defiance against mainstream norms, then a reliable way to read queerness in chinese ideological frameworks can be to deconstruct it by the mainstream confucian frameworks.

in mlc, this is implicitly set up with its stage of wulin/martial jianghu. then it is further broken down by asking, hey wulin jianghu is still closely related to the hegemonic values and the mainstream structure of authority (historically, 侠 xia being politically involved says a lot about this), so what is the true meaning of jianghu? what does it then really take for jianghu to be a queer space offering comfort and freedom to those who have escaped to it - to be the space that allow the transcendence of rigid roles and labels? mlc took a step further to resist the proxy to mainstream values that wulin jianghu has become.

this is why there can be a very strong buddhism reading of mlc (suggested here, expounded in the A+++ meta by @markiafc here and here, and also what I've seen discussed by cnet as well), given that buddhism is one of the 'extra-secular' ideologies, alongside (philosophical) taoism. I've also touched on a taoist angle in this meta. both schools are articulated in different sets of languages, but ultimately convey a same ideal of what it means to be human and how to live well - that is, to resist the roles and labels defined by the norms.

so, back to confucian frameworks.

a lot can be discussed about mlc with it. but in the context of this meta about relationships in mlc, it's specifically drawing on how confucianism conceptualises social relationships with familial ties as a cornerstone, and how these relational ties are inextricable from the conceptualisation of the 'self'.

as such, one of the things about mlc that has fascinated me is how deliberately it seems to ignore and reject the conventional familial ties (the kind by blood and marital ties). I've joked about how it is a miracle for me to love mlc as much as I do, as a prime dysfunctional family story enjoyer, despite none of its main characters struggling with any complicated feelings about their (biological) parents. but on closer examination, mlc is also making a comment on the model of familial-based relationships that dominates mainstream society - but through the absence of it.

with this, I want to talk about 1) how mlc rejects the conventional ties; and then 2) how it repurposes these ties in its own ways.

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the five relational ties in confucianism:

father and son 父子有亲 - (natural) affection between father and son

ruler and subject 君臣有义 - righteous relationship between ruler and subject

older and younger brothers 兄弟 (长幼有序) - this is actually about seniority within the family; the order between older vs younger family members

husband and wife 夫妇有别 - differentiation between husband and wife (demarcated by the 内外 spectrum of gendered inner-external spheres)

friends 朋友有信 - trust between friends

logically inferred, all these ties are hierarchical and familial-based except for the last one: friends. ruler-subject is sort of an extension of the natural familial ties, while friendship is the inverse space of 1-4 (ie. you fall back on 5 to define a social relationship outside of the familial sphere that cannot be qualified as 1-4). while all are premised on mutuality, it is only no. 5 that is defined by a sense of choice and equality.

on the surface, 1-4 don't quite exist in mlc in particularly meaningful ways to the narrative or are even outright overlooked, and friendship is the relational tie most valued by mlc. we can tell it's true just by looking at the most meaningful relationships in mlc of difanghua. but at the same time, it is more nuanced. we can take a closer look at how the story plays around with most of the ties as part of a broader queer narrative.

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1) how mlc rejects the conventional ties

mlc's rejection of mainstream relational ties can be best seen in fdb escaping from marriage. and it was not just any engagement with anybody but an engagement with the imperial family. he struggles with the prospect of being married to princess zhaoling, but generally, it's about the idea of complying to mainstream conventions and expectations that includes compulsory heterosexuality. all these point not only to a defiance against amatonormativity - the resistance of the traditional husband-wife tie, but also an irreverence for the ties of ruler-subject (the engagement being an imperial decree) and father-son (matters of marriage being sole decisions made by parents).

of course this is on top of how fdb's own biological father is a p-o-s, and the narrative gives fdb minimal struggles in this aspect, allowing him to sever this tie without looking back (I love it, yeap). along the same line is how lxy is an orphan, who came to gain important relationships that are built on natural compassion among people rather than innate, blood-based ties - even as llh. the sense of defiance from the narrative is especially stark to me considering that he could have a completely different familial-based life - as a son, brother, and ruler, if his biological family was still around. the narrative also deliberately treats his biological brother as a phantom, replaced with an older brother who he was bonded with neither by blood nor marital ties. on dfs's front, absolutely nothing is to be known about his biological family. his childhood history with the toxic patriarch of his life - who is not even his biological father - was afforded a clean break and closure.

we can keep going on, but that's pretty much the point.

ritualisation is one of the most important things of the confucianism school, especially to the honoring of these social relationships (and the officiating of social roles). the one ceremony/ritual we saw in mlc involving the main characters - or more accurately speaking, came closest to seeing - was the imminent wedding ceremony of dfs and jlq. even in that case, it was premised on non-mutuality with dfs being the unwilling, passive party. (fem-coded dfs? 25 marks.)

and that brings us to the next part.

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2) how mlc repurposes these ties

that particular wedding ceremony gets hijacked by dfs and lxy/llh, and gets turned into an important milestone in their relationship. they consummate - what is on text - their friendship after a long time being more enemies and rivals than friends. it is a clear establishment of the trust they have for each other. and here it is where I circle back to the subject of this post: friendships as marital ties.

in this article, as a part of a feminist, egalitarian reframing of confucianism, there is a proposal for spousal relationships to be reframed as a friendship tie. (this aligns with the interrelatedness of the five ties eg. the ruler-subject mirrors father-son dynamic, with the confucian belief that rulers have an obligation to their subjects alike parents to their own children.) by doing so, it removes the functional, gendered differentiation assigned to marital ties, and shifts it to something equal, and independent of gender. you exalt the value of trust between spouses, instead of basing marital relationships on gendered roles. as such, spouses become more like friends, and conversely, friends can also become more like spouses. (romance not a prerequisite. it has never been about romance anyway.)

given that mlc has repeatedly applied marital motifs to llh and dfs's characters in their joint narratives, this opens up a reading friendships as a marital tie. seeing marriage as a bridge for strangers to become family, marriage in mlc becomes a metaphor for the chosen commitment and mutual trust put in by strangers/friends (non-familial ties) into the becoming of family. the blurring of lines between marital ties and friendship encourages a genuine space of queer experience that goes beyond any pressure for strict labels - of sexuality, and relationships as romantic, sexual, etc etc.

(note: despite the borrowing of a feminist concept, I strongly hesitate to call mlc a feminist story. it's a whole discussion - or debate - on its own. nevertheless, it is definitely a gender-conscious story that lays foundation for a strong queer and egalitarian reading.)

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it is to be noted that it is intended - and also beneficial to take the confucian framework of relational ties beyond face value. the framework offers what it believed to be the most fundamental social relationship dynamics, and sees room for extension and matching to other kinds of relationships (all if not, most). a relationship such as teacher-student, which is outside of the five ties stated, can also mirror the affection of father-son ties, albeit not in a literal and identical way.

speaking of which. fdb and lxy/llh.

indeed they're known by others to be good friends. fdb thinks they're good friends too - insists on it, and puts his best efforts in keeping it that way. but does it really go both ways? if it does not, then can it really still be friendship? my humble take is that, ultimately - weighing in with llh's perspective - this is a relationship that is not so much based on trust, and rather, based on an innate affection that is only unique to family. (in this case, not blood/marital-based but one that was chosen and built aka lxy's relationship with sgd.) in other words, less of a friendship, more of a familial one.

it is a lot clearer considering their relationship from llh's point of view: some brat you never wanted in your life came barging in, and whether he was going to bring any positive effect to your life was secondary to the tranquility - which you have carved for yourself in the past decade - that is so integral to your personhood. no way. but the moment you hear that he's family? well, that changes the game completely. even before learning about fdb being sgd's son (then beginning to take initiative in showing greater acceptance), it is apparent in llh that there was an instinctive resonance with fdb as his shixiong's nephew. (eg. he remarked to his shifu's grave about how alike fdb is to himself.) this is unlike with dfs whom he had taken a much longer time to build trust with. you do not apply trust - aka the quality of friendships - to family. family is something deeper, more instinctive than that. if fdb was never family, I find it hard to imagine given llh's personality, that he would have let some brazen, bratty stranger intrude for that long. (boy invited himself to llh's home, sat himself down eating the owner's dinner and nosing in his cooking abilities!!! ily bb but that was uncalled for 😭)

of course there are many more layers in their relationship. there is a substantial degree of their history as (unwitting) teacher-disciple: fdb is still healthy and alive all thanks to the existence of lxy as a spiritual teacher role model in his life, regardless it being one-sided or not. there is also indeed some part of friendship in it, especially from fdb's point of view. he sees llh as a kindred spirit who he could enjoy a life of freedom with for life. but llh never reciprocates. he knew this was short-lived. and so ultimately, the hierarchical layer of their relationship overpowers the equal one, where llh's treatment of fdb as a nephew/小辈 younger family member and a disciple is the one that sealed the fate of their relationship.

if (blood-based) familial ties are irrelevant in jianghu, then the closest proxy to a father-son relationship in the martial world would be a teacher-disciple relationship. lxy and his shifu are a clear, indisputable example. for fdb and llh, their teacher-disciple tie is murkier and not consistently applied. they were also never ritualised as teacher-disciple, and thus are not teacher-disciple in any official capacity as far as confucian ideas are concerned. yet in crucial moments, it is invoked by llh as a card of authority over fdb to get out of sticky situations with fdb. and there was their final scene together: in a moment of sincerity, llh gives the approval to fdb as his disciple - then entrusting fdb with the secret manual of his techniques, up until his final letter in which fdb was recommended to dfs as a successor to his martial abilities.

in an imperial setting, this would have been the relationship of an emperor and his crown prince that straddles both ruler-subject and father-son ties aka a tag-team of disaster. the teacher has an obligation to nurture his disciple as a successor to himself, and love him like a son too. on the flipside, he holds the final power in their relationship - withholding knowledge and feelings from the younger one. they are only equals in a way a parent-child can be. they are only equals as much as the parent allows. and this is how fdb got left behind in the dust of llh's departure. he was the child treating his parent like a friend, supporting him emotionally and begging to be loved back the same way he loves his parent - but the parent had a lifetime way ahead of him and stayed out of his reach, physically and emotionally.

llh and fdb operate with the trapping of a friendship but have always been family in the core. llh had known that way before fdb did, just like everything else he had known and put out of fdb's reach. because. fdb did not have to know. fdb is different and will forge his own path. and that's a kind of love llh has for him that nobody understands (in fact not even fdb himself) - one that is on a different plane from friendships.

by repurposing the framework of relational ties, mlc showed that the essence of familial relationships aka its intimacy and closeness can be independent from biology and formalised rituals. and it is important to myself for stories to say that people can build close ties and deeply meaningful relationships even without being born or ritualised into any.

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then back to how these relational ties are inextricable from the conceptualisation of the 'self' in confucian worldview: the roles you play in these relationships are intended to define you. there is no 'self' independent from it. while the concept of a social, relational self is fully rooted in reality, being locked into social roles can be a painful way to live - a way that llh has experienced as lxy the sigu sect leader. so, in order for lxy/llh to realise a sense of self that exists outside the norms, it inevitably points to another way that requires a cut from these relationships. that is then the buddhist (or taoist) answer of looking past attachments to the world such as the confucian idea of relationships defining your being. only with a dissolution of a sense of 'self', can there be true liberation.

[yes-armageddon-it]

[foodfordogs]

my mother tells me I am her greatest gift and i tell her that i am my own worst curse. but I don't actually. i keep quiet because the truth is this: she is my greatest gift too, and i sit in my room and think thank you thank you thank you to the divine forces that i don't believe in. i don't believe in god and i don't believe in fate but i do believe in my mother's fingers in my hair when i lay with my head in her lap. it seems familial and sweet but the truth is i wanted to play mario party and she was in my favourite seat, but she was warm even so and her fingertips were calloused where she touched around my temples and i only wish i hadn't let my hair get so thin, or else the braid she tied might've still been where she left it.

[bl-bam-beyond]

THE PROMISE (2023, THAILAND)

Special Workshop Episode

Available on DEVONTE296 OFFICIAL YOUTUBE CHANNEL

The story of Phupha (KITTIKUN TANSUHAS aka KUN) and Nanfah (WATTIKORN PERMSUBHIRUN aka KIAK) began with two short mini series in AUGUST 2022 (PHUPHA) and NOVEMBER 2022 (NANFAH)

I adored both mini series immensely so after the 2nd mini (NANFAH) a series was announced to tell their entire story.

The mini series were directed by SITTICHAI CHUTSIRI aka CHOI and he's known to be a director of commercials but he also directed short BL 21 DAYS THEORY for Rookie Thailand.

After several false starts for the series to premiere it finally did on WeTV on March 1, 2023 with a re airing on the DEVONTE296 OFFICIAL YOUTUBE CHANNEL.

The Series had so many changes from the mini series it sadly was a bit of let down...just a bit because I was rooting for Phu and Nan. The Series also had a different director than the mini series KONGKIAT KHOMSIRI aka KHOM.

Khom is a screenwriter and director of a slew of series and movies. Most notably to BL fans, he directed KINNPORSCHE.

The screenwriter of The Promise was THANYATHORN SIWANUKROH aka FUNT or FUNTLAND. I'm not certain but I don't think she wrote the mini series. No writers were credited for PHUPHA | NANFAH that I'm aware of. And on FUNT'S MDL page she isn't credited for either mini series. Though she has an impressive list of screenwriter credits.

Now the gifs I made are from what is referred to as a special workshop episode and is under 7 minutes

Nan and Phu are a happy couple and Nan asks Phu when he knew he was in love with him. Phu answers but ask Nan if he recalls the kiss they shared the night before their graduation (Nan was drunk...this was in the series but not the minis) Nan says he has no recollection because while inebriated his memory is wiped clean.

There was a special episode called PROMISE: THE HONEYMOON which required payment which I did not do since I was disappointed with the series.

A season 2 is planned but no release date.

@pose4photoml @lutawolf @pharawee

[know-the-way]

Hellooo! 21 for Phrack from the prompt list, please 🥰

This got a little bit hurt/comfort-y and a hella bit dramatic. Sorry friend, that’s kinda my brand 🌝, but it’s got ~*vulnerability*~ which I know is your brand, so I hope you like it!

(Someone sent a similar prompt when I’d already started writing this, so this is part 1 of 2.)

tw: references to war

A kiss… on a place of insecurity.

Laying on his back, his arms are tucked under his head, a wide grin on his face as he watches her above him. Phryne’s straddled over his hips, dressed only in one of her silk robes. It’s untied at the front to give him an enticing view of what’s beneath, a half-eaten piece of toast dangling in her hand as she enthusiastically gestures through the recounting of a recent social commitment. The light pouring in from the window is catching on her skin, illuminating her features, and he can’t help but think to himself that she is the most beautiful, precious thing in the world… and how on Earth did he get so lucky?

Apparently, he’s gazing just a little too sweetly because on her next bite of toast, she narrows her eyes suspiciously. “You’re in far too agreeable a mood, inspector… what’s going on in that head of yours?” she emphasizes the question with a light poke to his bare belly.

He jolts slightly at the touch, but continues to stare up at her fondly, “Just enjoying the view, I guess.”

A smirk slowly spreads on her face, her brow still furrowed skeptically, but she must think the comment earns him a bite of toast because she lifts her arm to hold it just above his mouth. He accepts it gratefully and she reaches for the cup of tea she’s set on the bedside table. “I think I rather like you working nights, if it means I get to have you like this over breakfast.”

A low chuckle gets muffled within his mouthful of toast, but he grabs the tea from her hand and takes a sip to help it down. “You know,” he says, handing the cup back to her, “We might enjoy more breakfasts together if you accepted that what you call mornings is what the majority of the world calls afternoons.”

She taps his side admonishingly with a tsk, “Well now, don’t go and ruin it. My body’s acclimated to a certain routine and you don’t seem to mind as much when it means I’m awake to meet you at a 2AM crime scene.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, lowering them to push himself up and sit back against the pillows, and then casually rests them atop her thighs. “You’re right, as usual, Miss Fisher,” he smiles, letting his thumbs idly stroke her skin under the silk of her robe.

She sets her tea aside and leans in to kiss him quickly, “I’m glad you’ve learned to admit it, Inspector Robinson,” and they mirror a playful grin to each other. Resting her head against his shoulder, his hands move to stroke the curve of her back and they take a few moments just to breathe each other in.

So entranced in how utterly at peace he feels, he doesn’t realize at first that her index finger is sliding repeatedly at a spot just under his jaw. She’s making barely audible noises of fascination and he turns to look down at her from the corner of his eye. “Darling… ?”

“I’ve never noticed this on you before,” she says distractedly, her finger still idly stroking the spot.

“Noticed what?”

“This little scar here… “ she lightly taps the feature she means twice for emphasis and he immediately knows what she’s found. It’s been there for roughly 20 years - a small indention of a mark where the edge of his jaw meets his neck, and it’s not that he takes issue with its appearance (it can barely been seen after all), but rather its source. As such, he really doesn’t want to answer the question that is surely going to follow. “How did you get it?”

Right, yes. That question.

“Uh… “ he huffs out in discomfort and she pulls back to look at his face with soft concern. “It’s not a story worth telling.”

“Oh,” she says quietly, leaning back a little more so that she can trace the large slash of a scar under his right ribcage and then looks at him, questioning, trying to confirm her well-meaning suspicion. That scar came from his time in the war and he had obliged telling her the story some time ago. He had been trying to pull one of his men to safety, enemy air artillery fast-approaching, and at the last few feet back to the trench - the first shots fired. Panicked, Jack pushed the lad in and made a leap for it himself just after. He made it - they both did - but not before snagging his side on the barbed-wire barrier on the way down. He got 47 sutures in total, a commendation from his commanding officer, and a memory - among several others - that turned to a nightmare lasting years after he arrived home.

“Not from that,” he assures her, though her fingers continue to slide over it in understanding all the same. “It just… where it’s from… let’s just say… it’s wasn’t one of my finest moments,” he stammers out and he realizes that explanation will have the exact opposite effect of dissuading her from coaxing an answer out of him.

Sure enough, a certain sparkle forms in her eye as her finger draws a lazy line up to his chest. He sighs audibly. “You’re not going to leave this alone, are you?”

“I should think not,” she responds honestly, “Of course, you don’t have to share anything with me that you don’t feel comfortable sharing… “ her voice reaching the same pitch as when she tells a half-truth, then adding “But I will wonder still, yes… Possibly forever.”

He lets out a noise that’s part exasperation, part laugh, running a hand over his face, and then looking down at her. “Alright fine,” he relents, “But you don’t get it for free!”

Her smile turns sultry and he really hates being confronted with just how much he’s wrapped around her finger, “What will it cost me, then?”

Jack shrugs, “I’ve always been a man who deals in fair trade.”

She perks up at that, a cheeky sort of glint in her eyes, and her hand moves to grasp the sash of her robe, spinning it suggestively, “So an ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ scenario?”

He barks out an incredulous laugh, ready to dismiss the suggestion, but then he pauses as he realizes she’s technically correct. Nodding his head affirmatively, he states plainly, “Actually… Yes.”

“Alright!” she says brightly (a little too brightly, if he’s honest). “I agree to the terms!”

He exhales slowly, cursing himself for folding so easily. “Excellent,” a half-grumble as he shifts them both so that he’s sat up straight, “One other thing, though: you cannot laugh.”

Her mouth opens in protest, but she thinks better of it and nods, “Alright.” He gives her a sharp, distrusting look and she rolls her eyes, “I promise!”

Satisfied enough, he takes a moment to gather his thoughts and reluctantly begins: “It was during my time in the academy. Keep in mind, I was 18 and a brand new recruit, so I hadn’t yet developed the sharpest of minds.”

“Yes dear, I’ve met Hugh, I get the gist,” she prods teasingly and when his response is an admonishing glance, she glides her hand up to card gently through his hair in atonement.

“Eventually, the time came for our firearm training,” he continues, trying to hide how very nice her fingers brushing through his hair feels, “They’d place these cloth targets over barrels of hay for us to aim. Well, I took to it rather quickly, which some of my classmates from regional Victoria didn’t appreciate as much as our instructor.”

She hums in sudden understanding, “I take it they were put out that the city boy, with no experience, showed them up after they’d grown up on their grandfather’s rifles out in the country?”

He nods, “Put out enough to sabotage my exam.”

“Oh, cowards,” she huffs, now stroking his cheek with the back of her hand.

“Unbeknownst to me, they’d gone out to the shooting field at sunrise and placed a solid aluminum plate behind the cloth I usually favored. A gamble in retrospect, but at the time it felt strikingly clever.”

“I’m sure,” she sympathizes, “So I take it this scar was the result of a shattered bullet? Blowback off the metal plate? … Rather awful of them, really - they could’ve killed someone.”

He pauses, eyes widening a little, nodding slowly as if trying to find the words. “Well… “ he sighs, “Not… exactly.”

She looks back at him in expectant confusion and he very much doesn’t want to continue. But they’re too close to the destination to turn back now.

“The bullet did shatter,” he confirms, avoiding her direct gaze in any way possible, “and… and ricocheted in… every direction… including upwards.”

“I’m not following, Jack, but please continue,” he can hear in her voice that she’s enjoying every second of this and is awaiting the expected punchline they both know he’s hurtling towards.

Pressing his lips together briefly, eyes fully staring at the ceiling, he grimaces, “It just so happened… that a grey goshawk was flying over at the same time I took my shot.”

“Oh… Oh dear.” Her hand has quickly moved to cover her mouth in what he can only assume is an attempt to keep her promise of not laughing. He knew that was a futile request at the start, but he appreciates that she’s trying nonetheless.

“A piece of the bullet pierced its wing and it… it came tumbling down directly atop my head,” he says with as much dignity as possible, even though he can feel her body shaking with suppressed giggles. “As one could imagine, it was a collision that startled us both and - in addition to creatively slicing my face with its talons,” a few wayward laughs get muffled against her hand, “ - it took a souvenir chunk of my throat in its beak along with it.”

Finally, he dares to look down at her properly, casting an unimpressed scowl at how red her face has become with the effort of restraining herself. “Something amusing, Miss Fisher?”

She shakes her head ‘no’ furiously, but it takes her several more moments to reign herself in. Eventually she does, releasing her hand from her mouth with a deep, cleansing breath. “No, Inspector, nothing amusing,” though the strain in her voice says otherwise. “How… “ another pointedly deep breath “How awful.”

“Yes. It was.” He’s still utterly straight-faced, but he knows the next revelation will be her tipping point. “Two days in the infirmary and 5 months of a stupid nickname that clung like lint on wool.”

The look on her face is already betraying her, but she dares to ask anyway, “A nickname! …Which was?”

“… Bullseye Robinson.”

With that, she’s gone, full-force belly laughs rising from her throat and filling the entire room. Her head falls to his chest as she clings to his shoulders, indulging herself in the amusement for a good couple of minutes. When she finally looks up, his face is cold as stone and she almost - almost - looks apologetic.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Miss Fisher,” he deadpans, trying to sound as genuinely offended as possible, and attempts to nudge her off and stand up.

“Aw no, Jack don’t go! I’m sorry,” she hugs her arms around his neck, peppering kisses across his jaw, her voice filled with mirth as she coos to him, “I’m sorry, darling… I didn’t mean to. Here, let me kiss it better… “

He waits to feel her lips on the spot, pressing there warm and gentle… and then takes his revenge by swiftly flipping her on her back and ruthlessly tickling her sides. The screech she lets out is loud enough to alert the entire neighborhood, though it does nothing to appeal to his mercy, “Ja-ACK! JACK ROBINSON! Stop it right now! Not fair! JACK!”

A sudden light rapping at the door makes them both freeze, and the voice of the always-unrattled Mr. Butler calls politely through door, “Miss, is everything alright? Dorothy came to me with some concern about the sound of… screaming?”

The glance they share is as if they’re school children who’ve just been told to hush and Jack is thoroughly mortified. Phryne, unsurprisingly, is entirely unbothered, answering after a few church giggles to herself, “Quite alright, Mr. Butler, thank you. Apologies to you and Dot for the noise.”

“No trouble at all, Miss. Shall I prepare and bring up a lunch tray for you and the inspector?”

“No, we’re fine for now, thank you, Mr. B!” she says brightly and Jack comes to enough of his senses to hastily echo the sentiment; the least he can do for the trouble he’s put the man through, “YesthankyouMr.Butler.”

“Very good, Sir. Miss.” And the sound of his retreating footsteps is a relief to both Jack’s conscience and ears.

“Remind me to apologize to Mrs. Collins at a later date,” he sighs.

She snickers in response, reaching a hand back up into his hair to stroke it fondly, “Darling, I’m rather certain Dot would prefer to pretend it never happened as much as you would.”

He lets out a slow exhale, once again accepting that she’s right, and leans into her touch, “You broke your promise, you know.”

“I did,” she says softly, a slight pout on her lips and a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I’m sorry. Can I still kiss it better?”

Jack pretends to consider it, resting on his forearms above her, “I suppose.”

She smiles warmly then, tilting his head to the side and leaning up to kiss the little scar that caused this mess.

“Should’ve told you I nicked it shaving,” he whispers and she simpers into his skin. “You’re the first person I’ve ever told that story.”

“Really?” she asks curiously, placing one more kiss for good measure and then pulling back. “Why?”

“Well,” he moves to lay next to her on his side, supporting his head on his elbow, his free hand reaching out to softly stroke between her bare breasts. “I’m somewhat ashamed of it.”

“Jack,” she says tenderly, cupping his cheek, “It was a silly, awful prank. And that nickname, quite honestly, was terribly uncreative.”

He breathes out a laugh, turning to kiss the inner part of her wrist, and a sudden sadness fills his eyes, “No, it’s not that.” She turns on her own side now to her face him as he continues. “All those men at the academy with me… we were shipped off to war having barely started as constables. It was strange… We’d always meant to serve side-by-side, but not as soldiers on the front lines of a conflict we never asked for.”

She’s quiet in the way she always is when she knows he needs someone to listen. In the way all those who were there know to be for each other. The support is there in the silence; in the space given for one to safely face their shadows.

“Many of them I never saw again. And those I did… those who survived… a fair few made it through the strikes. I was one of only three, actually.”

She rests her hand lightly on his wrist; a reminder that she’s still here, and so is he.

“The day of that prank, I was… so angry,” he shook his head as if trying to deny his own truth, “For the rest of our training, I spent every day fueled by vengeance, vowing that I’d get even in my own way. I’d surpass them, beat them at every exercise, ace every exam, and pummel them all like competition instead of comrades,” he hangs his head a moment, smiles sadly, “Graduated top of my class.”

“Of course you did,” she murmurs affectionately, sliding her hand up to lace her fingers with his. He’s not done, she knows he’s not - it’s likely she even knows where he’s heading with all this, and he knows the last thing she’ll do is let him think he’s going there alone.

“Thomas Lodge, one of the ring leaders… he came home from the war missing a leg… “ hot tears are building behind his eyes, the bitter taste of guilt seizing his throat, though he’s fighting like hell to swallow it down, “I spent months enraged over a mere speck of flesh that healed over within days and this man lost an entire leg.”

“But that wasn’t your fault, darling,” she reminds him gently, tucking herself in closer to him so that they’re nearly nose-to-nose.

“No… “ he nods, flashing her a thankful glance before casting his eyes back down, “Doesn’t make it fair, though. So many men either came home maimed or not at all… I came back whole and still managed to ruin the life waiting for me. I didn’t just fail my marriage, my family, myself… I failed the memory of all those men who never even got the same chance I did.”

One angry tear springs from the corner of his eye and he takes several deep breaths to stave off the others threatening to fall. Her hand is warm and soft on his cheek, her thumb catching the tear and wiping it away. He can’t look at her yet; he hadn’t meant to go down this dark of a path and the shame that has already been piling up is scolding him for bringing her to this point with him. “I’m sorry, I… “ he shakes his head, “I’m sorry.“

“Jack… “ her voice is the most gentle he’s ever heard it, “You never have to apologize to me for sharing things like this. I’d much rather you did that than keep it locked inside and make yourself believe you failed. You didn’t, darling, you didn’t at all.”

He sniffles, keeps his eyes down; brings his hand up to rest over hers against his cheek. “You came home with the weight of war on your shoulders. The horrors you had to survive… the fact you’re here is honor enough to those men and what you all went through. And you’ve spent every day since doing your best to make this piece of the world a safer place; caring so deeply for everyone around you that you forget to care for yourself.”

His heart is bursting and breaking all at once and suddenly he lets out a quiet, sorrowed laugh. “That last bit sounds like someone I know,” he murmurs, his eyes finally looking up. Hers are full of fondness, sympathy, and grief with a smile to match.

“This someone you know… “ she says softly, kindly, “Would you call them a failure?”

He smiles back, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing her palm, “Never.”

“And neither are you,” her voice steady and earnest, willing him to believe her with a nod of her head he can’t help but to mirror, “You are by far the most remarkable person I’ve ever known, Jack Robinson, don’t you ever forget it.” She kisses him, quick and warm, and he feels lighter than he can ever remember.

“Last bit sounds like someone I know,” he repeats playfully and the mischievous glint he so loves returns to her eyes.

“Well,” she leans in to kiss him again, “I hope you’re grateful for their presence.”

“Every day, Miss Fisher. Every day.”

[diantos]

VERA FARMIGA AS DR. ANNA POU in Five Days at Memorial (2022)

[deus-ex-mona]

anyways, guess who finally managed to get unblocked after more than 3 years✌️

[priquintana]

PRISCILLA QUINTANA as Ruby Gale in BASED ON A TRUE STORY

[stupididiot36]

[gltzgghln]

anton tries some of circu's medicinal dexberries recreationally. it does Not go as planned

script tl:

first panel: "Ahaha omg I'm gonna try some of Circu's dexberries--I'm gonna see the hat people."

second panel: "NOM"

fourth panel: "sniff sniff"

[ellcrys]

when flowers is overplayed on the radio: yes excellent top tier music

when anithero is overplayed on the radio: i’m so fucking sick of this song

[lurkingismypastime]

Thinking about making a video of the audio of ‘guns for hire’ with muffled ‘still dre’ and “i don’t know why you care so much” “WHY DO I CARE SO MUCH?! DID I SAY A FUCKING THING??” playing in the background. I’m calling it -

POV: You’re on a road trip with your three siblings.

[sunnyashe]

editing your own stories is great because you'll find an inconsistency and think "huh, I thought I changed that sentence" and then spiral into an entirely self-contained tinfoil hat conspiracy that your laptop is actually time travelled from two months ago

and then you realize you accidentally opened a draft and shrug and move on