#sixty-six

[detroitlib]

Sixty-six : intermezzo / [by] Harry P. Guy. For piano. Caption title. Library's copy has missing page(s). Ad for other song titles on front inside cover. On cover: 5. Detroit: Jerome H. Remick, 1907.

E. Azalia Hackley Collection of African Americans in the Performing Arts, Detroit Public Library

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Patrick McGoohan - The Prisoner (1967)

[fox-stan]

Best post o66 Codywan angst dynamic is Obi-Wan who doesn’t know about the chips and Cody who does and assumes everyone else does too + some sort of forced proximity. Like Obi-Wan is bitter and jaded from being betrayed by the person he loves immediately followed by losing his entire family and being betrayed by the person he raised. Cody, freshly free for the first time ever and stewing in misplaced guilt for actions he literally had no control over.

Imagine they’re forced to go undercover on a mission (maybe throw in some fake dating??) and so when they’re out they have to pretend to like each other and it’s so close to what they could have had but then they get back to their shared tiny room, because budget reasons obvi, they barely talk. Obi-Wan keeps making cutting remarks about the perceived betrayal and Cody just assumes that Obi-Wan can’t forgive him for his actions despite them being done under the chip. After all Cody can hardly forgive himself why would the person he was forced to betray forgive him?

I like to imagine this misunderstanding is worked through by Cody having a nightmare and sobbing and begging Obi-Wan for forgiveness even though he knows he doesn’t deserve it and Obi-Wan realizing he’s been kind of an ass to Cody this whole time and they end up talking through everything in the morning.

[williammarksommer]

Sixty Six

Route 66 series

Hasselblad 500c/m

Kodak Ektar 100iso

[daily-pearl-doodles]

Little pearl sitting on the ground cuz its that kinda day yknow

(day sixty six)

[starscelly]

"nooo! i fell!"

fla@dal 03.12.24

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: To remove or destroy all the biochips is complicated. To edit Order 66, though? Well, it's just a few lines of code. A few different words can change history.

Author: @lunaemoth

[travisdermotts]

sentences that terrify me

[eldritchqueerture]

HIIII FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING

Summary:

It was well past midnight when Noel began to stir. Some movements and changing positions were usual for sleep, John had found, but the change in his breathing first alerted him that something was amiss. It became irregular, shallow huffs of air and a not fully realized groan, along with rustling of the sheets as Noel’s body curled into itself. Slow as not to wake Arthur up, John crawled his arm to Noel’s hand and squeezed it – gently at first, to see if it would be enough to wake him. [...] “Wha—What?” He mumbled under his quickened breath, and – John assumed – looked around before letting out a quiet ‘Oh’. John waved to him with a finger, making him chuckle breathlessly. “Hi, John,” he whispered. “Did you wake me up?” John imitated a nod, curling his forefinger twice. “Thanks,” Noel breathed out. “Nightmares.” --- or - Noel has a nightmare, John wakes him up, and they figure out a way to talk to each other without waking Arthur.

Nights were always a quiet time of contemplation for John. Sometimes there was a lot to think about, and once he’d started following a strand of thought, the entire night would pass in a blink. Other times, he’d be frustrated to no end with nothing to do, the world dark and quiet around him, save for Arthur’s steady breathing.

Those brought back memories of Arthur’s coma and the month he’d spent in the darkness of Arthur’s eyelids. Silent and helpless to do anything, apart from moving his arm – which he did not do often anyway in fear of alarming the nurse. Lily. During nights like these, he would imagine they were still in that hospital in Harper’s Hill, and that any minute now Lily would enter their room with a fresh and gentle ‘Hello, John”, and a smile on her face. He assumed.

This night, though, was different. They were at Noel’s place in New York, sleeping in Noel’s bed by his side. For the first time John didn’t just want to pass the time – he wanted to be in the moment, listening as both men relaxed, and their breaths slowed to a steady rhythm. His arm lay at Arthur’s side, close enough that he had hooked his fingers around Noel’s. He couldn’t see him, as Arthur had already closed his eyes, but Noel curled his fingers back silently.

It was… curious, to experience someone else touching his hand in such a fashion. Noel’s fingers were long and calloused, with fingernails cut short. His skin was warm, and John noted every slight movement and tremor in his hand as he slept. Throughout his time sharing Arthur’s body he had accustomed to how Arthur behaved during the night, but this was something else entirely.

It was well past midnight when Noel began to stir. Some movements and changing positions were usual for sleep, John had found, but the change in his breathing first alerted him that something was amiss. It became irregular, shallow huffs of air and a not fully realized groan, along with rustling of the sheets as Noel’s body curled into itself.

Slow as not to wake Arthur up, John crawled his arm to Noel’s hand and squeezed it – gently at first, to see if it would be enough to wake him. His shallow breaths did not change, and he gave no other indication of waking up.

With increasing force John began tapping his finger on Noel’s arm, hoping it wouldn’t alert Arthur. After a moment of this prodding, Noel gasped, his arm flinching away from John.

“Wha—What?” He mumbled under his quickened breath, and – John assumed – looked around before letting out a quiet ‘Oh’. John waved to him with a finger, making him chuckle breathlessly.

“Hi, John,” he whispered. “Did you wake me up?”

John imitated a nod, curling his forefinger twice.

“Thanks,” Noel breathed out. “Nightmares.”

John nodded with his finger again. There was a shuffle next to him as Noel adjusted his position in the bed, and for a moment silence fell upon them again, as he got his breathing under control. John expected him to go right back to sleep, but after a moment Noel laid his hand beside John’s.

“It never even crossed my mind,” Noel started quietly. “That you don’t sleep. What do you do all night?”

John wanted to laugh. He had no way of answering, so he just scooted his hand closer, again hooking his finger around Noel’s.

“Shame you can’t speak,” Noel said. “You should learn Morse code; you could tap out messages with your fingers. Or sign language – though I think that requires two hands.”

John tapped Noel’s hand twice in acknowledgement. He liked that idea a lot – being able to communicate with Noel without depending on Arthur to relay the message was a very enticing prospect.

An idea came to his mind that had him immediately tap Noel’s hand again. He moved to grab his palm and laid it flat on the bed. Noel did not protest.

Then, with his forefinger, John started drawing a letter on his skin.

“What are you…?” Noel wondered before letting out a gasp. “Oh! That’s an ‘S’?”

A nod with his finger and onto another letter.

 “’L’. ‘E’. Yes, I got that—”

John shook his hand no. Then he stuck two fingers up.

“…Two?” He could picture Noel with his furrowed brow. “Oh, two ‘E’s? Gotcha.”

John barely started on the last letter before Noel piped up.

“Wait, are you telling me to sleep?”

John stopped and nodded.

“And here I thought you enjoyed my company,” Noel laughed and earned himself a jab with John’s finger. “I know, I know,” he sighed. “It’s… difficult. Sleeping after them.”

John touched his finger lightly on Noel’s palm. T. E. L. L. M. E. ?

“Ah,” Noel chuckled self-consciously. “It’s… the Dreamlands, mostly. Some of the scenarios the King would pull up to torture me… They stuck with me more than others, you know?”

John curled his finger again, rubbing Noel’s palm in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“But usually,” his voice got hoarse, quieter. “Usually I dream of Roland.”

Roland Cummings, the previous tenant of Arthur’s office back in Arkham. Noel’s – or Charlie’s – partner. John didn’t know much about him, even after the exposition Kayne had given them in that little pocket between time and space; he didn’t know what role he’d played in all of it, that the King sought out his associate to interrogate. That he’d imprisoned and killed what remained of him in the Dreamlands.

“We didn’t spend much time together in the Dreamlands,” Noel continued. “The King just wanted to show me it was really him before…” He trailed off with a sigh. “He was stubborn – probably the most stubborn man I’ve ever known.”

John could hear a small, sad smile in his voice.

“But he was strong, not just physically. When we first came into contact with this stuff, he didn’t panic. I did,” Noel let out a laugh. “He kept my head on straight when things would get tough. I remember I thought he was unbreakable.”

His voice trailed off wistfully, full of the bitterness of hindsight.

“But everyone breaks eventually. The Roland I saw in the Dreamlands…” Noel curled his hand around John’s – for comfort? “That one haunts my dreams. The hollow eyes full of pain and regret. The meager frame, less than a shadow of its former self. The fucking… gunshot wound in his forehead.”

He sighed. “First thing he said to me when we saw each other – you know what he said? He said, ‘I’m sorry’.” His voice started to crack. “He said, ‘I’m sorry you’re here too, Charlie.’ What was I supposed to say to that? Roland never apologised to me; he was too proud for that.”

John heard a sniffle, and Noel’s hand in his shook.

“I kept thinking the King was still fucking with me,” he continued in a shaky whisper. “I—I said that Roland would never let himself fall so low.” He let out a raspy, self-deprecating laugh. “So naive of me.”

Another sniffle and Noel tried to quietly clear his throat.

“At that moment I saw that my words had hurt him. He stopped trying to convince me, stopped apologizing. We were in an imagined version of the Arkham apartment and he sat down in his chair, looking off into space. Then he looked up at me and said ‘This too shall pass, Charlie’.” He huffed out a vacant laugh.

“That’s where the King drew the line,” he continued flatly. “I don’t know if he just grew bored or knew that it worked, but I started to realize this was indeed the real Roland. I didn’t have time to say anything though. I didn’t have time for anything.” His voice cracked again and he winced.

“He threatened us only once,” he whispered. “Roland looked to me with a spark of that old stubbornness and for a fraction of a second I had hope.” He chuckled. “Then the King killed him.”

John squeezed Noel’s hand.

“Shit,” he swore under his breath and rubbed his face with the other hand. “I’m sorry.”

In response, John just rubbed his thumb on his palm and coaxed it flat again.

I. M. S. O. R. R. Y.

“No, John, it’s—” Noel took a breath. “You’re fine, I told you.” He let out a laugh. “You saved my life. Hell, you woke me up from that nightmare. And you’re much better company by all accounts.”

S. T. I. L. L.

Another heavy sigh. “Yeah.”

The wind picked up outside the window, the trees rustling in the brief silence.

Y. O. U. L. O. V. E. D. H. I. M. ?

“I—” Noel started sharply but then immediately deflated. “Is it still so apparent?”

John tapped his hand twice, making him huff a laugh.

“I suppose I did,” he said. “In some manner. I... A part of me wishes I hadn’t left. For Egypt,” he confessed. “That I had stayed with him in Arkham. That maybe...” He trailed off with a slight snort. “But knowing fate, I’d just have gotten myself killed alongside him.”

John thought that he was glad things happened as they did if only for the fact that it allowed them to meet – and for once he was glad not to have a mouth to run. Instead, he kept lightly caressing Noel’s hand.

“Christ,” Noel sighed deeply. “I haven’t... Talked about this stuff with anyone before.”

John wished he knew how to convey his gratitude for the trust he was given through touch alone. He felt at a loss for how to get it across and it bothered him.

“Thank you, John,” Noel was none the wiser of the frustrations. His voice was slightly raw and small, but filled with affection. “It felt... good.”

G. O. O. D.

“Alright, enough of this sappy night talk,” Noel grunted as the sheets rustled with his movement. John suspected he laid back down as the covers shifted. “I’m exhausted.”

He crawled his arm up the bed and patted the pillows.

“Alright, alright.” Noel let out a content sigh. “Goodnight, John.”

At that moment Arthur stirred, a sleepy groan escaping his lips.

“John?” He mumbled, pulling the left arm up towards his chest.

Everything’s alright, Arthur. He said and surprised himself with how fond and content his voice sounded. Almost like... purring. Go back to sleep.

[swordsmans]

ahhh i really try to keep things Flirty and Fun here, but i just wanted to lower the capitalization to flirty and fun for a moment, because. this is the second day in a row that i have full-on weepy cried irl over comments on my newest fic, and i really, really, really cannot thank you guys enough for the response to it from the absolute bottom of my heart.

fic writing brings me a lot of joy. it's both a creative outlet and a form of escapism. it's also a very intentional challenge i give my brain. yes, fundamentally i'm writing about two anime guys wanting to kiss sooo bad (because they should)—but inevitably i've put little bits of myself into my stories, as well. my little vulnerable insides that i sometimes struggle to look at directly. you know, regular artist stuff. it's hard not to, because all stories come from the heart (even fanfic).

i stopped writing for myself for many years, and i have only just returned to it this year for various reasons. the response from everyone has been absolutely overwhelming, even from day one. i'm not always the best at responding to messages or comments fast (or even at all, depending on the day) but i read everything. tags, bookmarks, ao3 comments, dms, inbox messages—all of it. i have screenshots saved in case anyone deletes anything. i go back and revisit things over and over again. every single kudos or like brings me joy.

i cannot overstress how much i love and cherish every single person who reads the stuff i've written. i'm a writer but there are literally no words big enough in the english language to express how you guys make me feel. all i can do is say thank you and keysmash and send lots of heart emoji memes... and hope i am getting the message across. but really, really thank you. from the bottom of my heart thank you. thank you, thank you, thank you.

[bigdaddydaemon]

daemon is a girl dad through and through. laena taught him how to care for, maintain, and style their daughters’ hair, he willingly played the role of the monster while his girls played the role of brave heroes whenever they played pretend, he read them stories of old valyria, taught them the history of their targaryen ancestry, taught them high valyrian, and was always so protective over them. it’s a culture shock when his and rhaenyra’s families blend after they wed. the big, scary, manly targaryen man has no idea how to be a father to boys. sword fighting? sure, he can teach them, but only because he’s so skilled. rough housing? confusing. he doesn’t want to hurt the boys, and he’s gotten an accidental elbow to the face more times than he can count. the boys destroying the village built out of blocks with their toy-dragons while rhaena and baela are arguing that they’re supposed to save the village not destroy it? daemon is sitting there stumped (he was usually the villain role. what havoc can he inflict if the boys are already doing it?). the lack of manners? and don’t tell me that, just because they’re princes, they don’t have the typical manners of boys their age. daemon groans every time one of them burps at the dinner table. it’s getting to where baela and rhaena are mimicking them. whatever the equivalent of playing catch is in westeros? daemon has no idea how to do this with rhaenyra’s boys. he is absolutely lost.

but, rhaenyra teaches him how to father boys, and, in turn, she learns how to mother girls. their blended family grow close, as time goes on, and daemon develops a close bond with jace, luke, and joffrey.

[blazingvoltz]

“Someday those noble intentions of yours will destroy every Jedi in the galaxy.” That line in the latest episode of Star Wars The Acolyte... oooooof, big oooof...

[margindoodles2407]

THE KNIFE COLLECTION

I am so sorry the quality is crap. There is a better-quality, knifeless version under the cut. I apologize profusely.

[frostbite-the-bat]

this appeared on the side while watching a video and holy SHIT yall need to leave ppl alone and get a fucking LIFE holy shit what

[itwaslegendary]

it’s so funny to me that what was probably going through taylor’s mind was “ah yes let me change my social media icons to a black and white picture, this will drive them totally insane in the span of 2 seconds”

[apocalypse-weekend]

*drops new oc and runs* (ft. gambit)