it is almost midnight and my fall break ends tomorrow
yet here we are
new fic babes! ✨
it is almost midnight and my fall break ends tomorrow
yet here we are
new fic babes! ✨
Ethan Hawke in “A Midnight Clear” (1992)💗
i rest my case, your honour
Montgomery Clift in I Confess (1953), dir. Alfred Hitchcock
Father Michael Logan
Gael García Bernal in El Crimen del Padre Amaro (2002), dir. Carlos Carrera
Ewan McGregor in Angels and Demons (2009), dir. Ron Howard
Camerlengo Carlo Ventresca
Dominic Cooper in Preacher (2016-2019)
Father Jesse Cusser
Jude Law in The Young Pope (2016)
Pope Pius XII
Ethan Hawke in First Reformed (2017), dir. Paul Schrader
Andrew Scott in Fleabag Season 2 (2019)
Hamish Linklater in Midnight Mass (2021)
Father Paul Hill | Monsignor John Pruitt
Alfonso Herrera in The Exorcist (2016-2017)
Father Tomas Ortega
Daniel Brühl in Intruders (2011), dir. Juan Carlos Fresnadillo
Sofia Coppola and Ethan Hawke at IFP Gotham Awards on November 27, 2017 in NYC.
Ethan Hawke photographed by Frank Ockenfels III, 1992.
Scans from Premiere Magazine November 1992 & Empire Magazine May 1995.
✦─day six: sick/hurt-comfort
✦─genre: angst (pretty heavy, ngl), hurt-comfort is it really tho??, on and off relationship, poetry/verse, just overall very sad sjfhdjghdf
content warnings (tis how yknow its gonna get bad): su*cidal/s*lf h*rm thoughts; brief mentions of guts, organs, and such in a mildly grotesque way [pls do tell me if i need to mention something else in here!]
✦─fandom: dead poets society
✦─pairing: anderperry (todd anderson x neil perry)
✦─summary: neil hasn’t been in the mental space for years now. the last thing he wants is to hurt the only good thing that has ever happened to him. he often runs away from him, trying to disappear from his life. but he always comes back, and todd’s always waiting for him by the door.
✦─inspired by the song neptune by sleeping at last
✦─banner made by @regina-dei-fiori (aka, moi), beta reading done by the beautiful @iemondropsss <33
✦─ao3 link to be added soon
[ day one | day two | day three | day four | day five | day six | day seven ]
a/n: is this prompt a day earlier? yes indeed. do i still have to complete a bunch of previous prompts? absolutely. but as one very famous poet once said, ✨let’s forget how any of this works✨ anyways, hello besties, today i have chosen violence sdkfhdjfgfd
quick side note, you may or may not have seen that i said i wouldnt be posting the anderperry week on schedule anymore (i only lasted one day smh) due to the existence of e x a m s. thankfully, i already finished all of them, so i’ll get into writing asap.
so, my favourite thing (for both writing and reading purposes) is angst/hurt comfort, so i had a blast with this one, lemme tell you. writing sad shit helps me get bad feelings out ig, and it also helps me remember that im alive lmao
my other prompts are going to be pretty fluffy, i was just not in the mood to write something cute. i dont want peace, i want problems, always >:))
moral of the story, dont let me write angst (too late tho). enjoy yall lol <33
I'm only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks When I open my mouth I wanna tell you, but I don't know how
I'm only honest when it rains An open book with a torn out page And my ink's run out I wanna love you, but I don't know how
-Neptune, by Sleeping At Last
For as much as I’ve tried to escape, to keep distance, it is, in a way, incredible how I always come back to the same place. My feet truly are more independent than I initially thought.
I write about my regrets everyday, did you know? I count them down, with paper and pen. I write down: I regret ever wanting to live different lives, with costumes and scripts. I write down: I regret ever loving the people I wasn’t supposed to love. I write down: I regret not having controlled my black holes in time, the ones that suck the life out of me without mercy. I write down: I regret forgetting who I really was.
I write my regrets down everyday. And even though it’s always on the tip of my tongue, your name I have never written. Todd Anderson. It jumps around, inside the walls of my mind, like a bird trying to escape its cage. It wants to be free, I know. It wants to travel cities and seas, it wants to see the cliffs and the bees. It wants to rip the most violent scream out of me. It wants me to jump in front of traffic and wait for the sweet embrace of the afterlife. Todd Anderson. My light in my darkest nights, the air I breathe when there’s no oxygen around me. O me, o life.
But would you believe me if I told you that you’re not one of them? I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, so many impulsive decisions. But you're the thing I'm most sure of. You’re the only good thing I’ve ever had between my arms, as I felt our inevitable end surrounding us. Our terrible fall. So terrible, that we haven’t stopped falling since.
I regret so many things in life, but not you, my love.
Who would regret meeting the personification of the moon herself? Quiet and serene, wild and captivating. Caring and loving, with a smile that carries the light of moonshine; that has the power to move oceans.
Who would regret endless nights in which we thought our crazy fantasies could become reality? Jumping and dancing and singing at the top of our lungs. Thinking we were the only ones, thinking we were on top of the world. The pills that I keep in my bathroom drawer will never compare to what you make me feel, to what you make me see.
Who would regret waiting years to see the cocoon finally crack, only to see the most beautiful wings emerge? Butterflies aren’t able to see the patterns of their own wings; they’ll never know the beauty they hold. You’ll never fully understand how much you make me want to rip my skin off, how much you make me want to run away to a lost country and never look back. When you laugh, when you talk, when you speak, when you cry. When you look at me like I’m the most precious person in the room, and when you look at me like I’m the scum of the earth.
You're not a regret of mine, honey. But am I not one of yours? Don't you regret ever believing that I carried the magic that I've always faked? Can’t you see that you sold away your sanity the day you laid eyes on me?
I don't deserve the things you think I do. Congratulations, you have fallen into the trap! The one everyone falls inside of when they meet the mighty Neil Perry. The one everyone wants to pay attention to. The one everyone trusts to be the truth. The one you can now see through, my love. I don't deserve any of the things that you do. It's a facade, an act. Can't you see? Can't you just run away from me, instead of making us reach our painful end?
I live with maggots inside of me. Eating me alive, eating away my brain, my liver, my lungs, my heart. Eating away my feelings, my emotions. Contaminating the memories. Our memories, my darling. I’m nothing more than a lifeless shell. I’m a dead man walking. We both know that death is the only thing men can never escape, my darling. Who can love a man that can no longer love? My departure will be as insignificant as my arrival. You should start planning the way you’re going to keep on living without me, love.
I’ve noticed the way you look when I completely lose sense of myself. I’ve noticed the terror in your eyes, I’ve noticed the way your feet make you go three steps back, I’ve noticed your hesitant arms as you ponder if it’s a good idea to give me your warmth or not. I’ve noticed, don’t you try to bullshit me. I know I scare you, Todd. I know how much you wish I’d just never exist. Or at least not in your sight.
When I erase myself from the phase of earth for a moment, there’s not a step I take without you in my thoughts. There’s not a second I don’t consider running up the stairs of that building we used to go to, and just go ahead and fly with the stars that show up at midnight. At least I would die out in a place where we’ve kissed a thousand times, at least I would vanish on the rooftop we claimed as ours.
Why do you keep following me, in my days and in my dreams? Why do you keep embracing my dampened body when we lock eyes in the doorstep of the apartment that was supposed to be home? Don’t you see the way I only search for your touch and forgiveness when the waves are already drowning us? Don’t you see the way I start being honest only when the rain starts flooding the city that was once ours? Don’t you see that I’m making you sick? Don’t you see the way my eyes lose their spark more and more each passing moment? Don’t you feel sorry for yourself, for dealing with this corpse before you? The one you once wanted to spend your whole life with, the one you once called your lover.
Who am I to ask you to stay? And who are you to stay even when I don’t ask you to?
And yet… And yet, my body is not strong enough to move away from your touch. And yet, my lips aren’t strong enough to stop the tenderness in which you kiss my tears away. And yet, my mouth’s not strong enough to tell you to escape from this disgrace of a man I have become. And yet, my mind is too stubborn to want any of this to go. To let this go. To let you go.
I know, I am aware. I’m probably the most aware of both of us: I’m selfish.
Let me spill my guts on this wooden floor. Let me rip my ribcage open, and let my heart be exposed. Let the amount of tears I’ve dropped make me weak. Let me wail and cry and scream. And then hold me, my love. Even if I’m up in flames, even if my skin stings, even if the cloth from my clothes becomes velvet. Your touch makes me believe that not everything that is warm burns. Your arms make me believe in a fortress that mad hands who tear my skull in half cannot enter. Your pulse reminds me that my whole world’s beating still. Your lips melt like sweet chocolate between mine. You are the reason I believe living is a blessing.
Because I am selfish, honey. I know. I am aware.
Todd Anderson. My moon on an empty sky. The butterflies that fly in spring. The brown leaves that fall in autumn. The sunsets that you can only enjoy on top of mountains. The one that has loved me in a way no one else ever could. The only thing worth living for.
Would you let go of me if I asked you to?
tag list: @cupiiid @aedan-mills @pelicanchaos @tuskofthyme
More of Ethan in Great Expectations (1998)💗
WHY DO YOU EDITORS FEEL THE NEED TO PUT THE SCENE OF TODD SCREAMING NEILS NAME IN YOUR EDITS, LIKE I GET IT, ITS FOR LIKE THE EMOTIONS AND ALL BUT GOT DAMN I DO NOT NEED TO RETHINK MY ENTIRE LIFE AT 10 AM IN THE MORNING
I am so excited for this movie!!! I loved the two Sinister movies and I also love it when Ethan Hawke and James Ransone work together. They play well off each other, probably because they've worked together before.
I think the story is different too. Sure, we've seen elements of this before, but not at the same time??? I don't think so at least.
On a slightly different note, after being in the Mike Flanagan Universe for so long, I needed a different take on ghosts. In most cases, the ghosts are left behind. Whether it be because they were killed on the grounds, tied to it somehow, abandoned, lost, whatever, until they're set free somehow, they're stuck there suffering. And that's after going through a lot when they were alive and usually having some sort of traumatic death.
In The Black Phone, it looks like the killer's previous victims use what they'd learned when they were held captive to try and help get the latest victim free. That's an element I really like.
Unfortunately, this movie doesn't come out until fucking February. So, naturally, I bought the book that contains the short story the movie is based on. The 2004 short story written by Joe Hill. That book will probably sit in my precious pile of books to be read for some time, but I will get to it at some point. Maybe even before seeing the movie. Dunno, life interferes with my reading a lot.
But yeah, I'm excited!!!
julie delpy and ethan hawke during los ángeles premiere of ‘before sunrise’ at directors guild in hollywood, california, united states.
He has the power to convert me😂😍💗
Ethan Hawke as Goodnight Robicheaux || The Magnificent Seven (2016), deleted scene
Ethan Hawke & Julie Delpy - Berlinale 2004