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mulders-too-large-shirt · 5 months ago

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s2 episode 15 thoughts

i'm back! i was got halfway through the episode yesterday when a storm knocked the power and the internet off so i was sadly unable to finish the ep OR post my thoughts :( but i finished it now!!!

so this episode was about "voodoo" and you have maybe been able to tell from my previous posts, but i love studying religions and belief systems. so honestly i was pretty frightened this episode was going to be all "ahhh look how scary this belief we don't understand is!" and like. haitian vodou has been one of THE biggest victims of this line of thinking. so i was pleased that the real villain of the episode was a white man abusing his power.

and yes, they did make vodou seem ~spooky~ but: i'm pleased the bad guy was a real bad dude and not a caricature of what americans think a scary evil priest would look like.

so let's jump in!

we start the episode with hearing a baby crying. which is never a good way to begin, as far as i am concerned. just not for me.

it's a wife and a husband and this husband seems evil. he snaps at his wife and from his first line i was torn between "this man is genuinely an abusive monster" or "this man is being brainwashed" and thankfully it was the brainwashing route

he screams at his wife and child until the both cry and then he sees his breakfast turn to worms.

worms for breakfast... might sound wild to you, but for a bird, that's just an ordinary day.

he then gets in his car and crashes into a tree and we see some sort of sign on the tree he crashes into....... and this is the SECOND fellow that has died working at this refugee camp....

roadtrip with our agents to north carolina!!!!

(i made a post when i was like halfway through s1 about all the roadtrips these 2 go on and how they allowed them to get to know each other, and a few people were like "um they take planes?", but my POINT ON THE BONDING STANDS and also here is evidence of a REAL road trip)

they step out and both of their trench coats are billowing in the wind. a beautiful sight.

we're learning about what has been going on at this refugee camp they are visiting, where the soldiers have been dropping like flies... they mention that there was a riot recently, and a little boy killed, and i'm thinking, maybe that kind of trauma can lead a person to crash a car or harm themselves? i realize i sound like scully as i type that!!! a real skeptic!!! but it seems plausible.

they visit the home of the new widow and she's like "well that symbol on the tree was ALSO there when the first guy died... and get this... it was on this shell my baby found!" which led to my (joking) theory that it was the baby that was doing the killing... baby witchcraft is likely super effective, compounded by their innocence to create a super critical hit... alas, this theory had no backing

but evil babies aside, she's really freaked out because her late husband's friend grew up in new orleans and says that this is the type of voodoo he saw down there, so... interesting

they go into the refugee camp to ask around, and someone grabs scully, when a boy intervenes and tells the dude who grabbed her to get lost in french and i was SO proud because i knew what he was saying... like yeah i guess my duolingo IS paying off...

(all he said was "vas-tu" but hey! i was still proud)

the child then tries to smooth talk them into buying a good luck charm and mulder buys it which had me LAUGHING... like truly he sees a child and he will support them financially.

(i thought perhaps that the good luck charm would open up and be the symbol we earlier associated with destruction and make them a target but i was wrong!!! it just was a genuine ward against evil. thank u little boy named chester)

one of the military men says that "voodoo caused a riot" and as far as riot causes go i think that is not in the top 10 most common... i'm willing to guess that perhaps it is the awful treatment people in a refugee camp receive... but sure. blame a belief system! (/s)

scully goes to look at the body of the first man that died and JUMPSCARE! his body has been replaced in the morgue with some kind of dog? it looked like a hyena to me, which raised the question: where do you source a hyena in north carolina? no answers were provided

our agents visit the man who is blamed for starting the riot- who is named bauvais, what a wonderful name that is- and he says that the symbol they found was that of the loco-miroir, a crossroads between two worlds that shows the true self. so i'm thinking, perhaps if that is the case, these men that died were being tormented because of the awful things they did to the refugees?

he also describes the dog creature in the morgue as "a warning" which hm. i mean. could be.

scully is doing some driving now, which i noted because it was unusual, and she almost hits someone! (is this why she doesn't normally drive?)

i jest, of course, because who is in the road but... the dude who we earlier saw crash into a tree? the dude whose wife and baby we visited who were mourning his loss? this man? so... he isn't dead?? this part of my notes had many question marks

i guess i assumed that they... you know... had triple checked that he was really dead...

they check his blood and there is some poison in there that scully says is in pufferfish, which are eaten in japan, and i'm like queen i love you so bad, i love that you can look at a chemical and know what fish it comes from, and where in the world they eat that fish....... truly my most beloved

it appears that this man who is newly back from the dead/never dead at all was in a zombie-like state. and mulder is going on about how there are rumors of haitian zombies- which i had heard before, but don't recall anything about- and he is basically being a Nerd

(they're both nerds. i love people who know random Stuff. it's actually a one-way ticket to my heart. no lie!)

((but as for the accuracy of their belief system, i have a feeling it is truly more complex than just the western notion of zombies- i never got to dive into african and diaspora religions in class, so fact-checking this episode is an excellent excuse for me to jump down a rabbit hole))

okay so new proposed theory: take the pufferfish poison... fake a death... but why?

they visit the graveyard to go and find the body of the first man who passed away- but a fellow who watches the graveyard notes that the body snatchers got there first. THE BODY SNATCHERS? did we skip a few centuries back? he says "the voodoo types are buying" which. um. okay.

he ends this by calling the theft of remains "uncool" and for sure. i'd have to agree with that assessment.

but in the distance we see the little boy from earlier- chester- digging about! could HE be the body snatcher? well, mulder is gonna find out!

they chase him down only to find he has a bag of a ton of frogs LMAOOO they had to get those paid frog actors from the last episode in again somehow

so they bring this child- who i think has sadly lost all of his frogs at this point- back to get some food, and this is where i lost all power and was forced to wait a whole day to learned what happened next!

but i picked up here today. this episode was giving me flashbacks to the episode eve from s1. because these two are gonna find a youth and get them a meal. and i appreciate that about them.

anyway, he says he just sneaks out and back into the camp somehow. chester says he sells frogs to bauvais. we love a little guy who is always hustling.

he ate all of his food and mulder gives him more money to go get some more and it is soooo funny to me how mulder interacts with children. it's actually deeply sweet. he is gonna make some random kid on his case smile no matter what.

(oh man. this is the type of guy who is gonna be all "come on, sport, let's go toss the ball around", huh? if he weren't too busy going about chasing aliens and almost dying, i'd say that man would make a decent father)

scully's still in logic mode, saying maybe it was the frogs who made the poison. and yeah, some frogs do in fact make poison, but i'm not sure if north carolina is where you're gonna find em. but i guess there are evil creatures in the south like pythons and black widows so we can't rule it out?

mulder leaves scully in charge of watching chester while he go sees who has been following him. a very perceptive guy. sometimes.

oh!!! it's a fellow we've seen before!! he's a private, and he was friends with the deceased, and he was the one who told the now widow about the voodoo rituals he grew up with. and he refuses to talk with chester around so they have him wait in the car

now, we have dealt with evil children on this show before, but this little dude is not giving evil vibes to me. i find him endearing. which perhaps is what the writers WANT me to think... but no. turns out he was just a nice little dude lmao.

so the private who grew up in louisiana and is now stalking the agents explains that bauvais promised the colonel who is watching over the camp that his men would drop one by one unless they are returned to haiti. he also mentioned that colonel increased "the beatings"

HUH????? he increased them? as in there were some going on before, and now there are more????

scully asks why no one has filed a complaint, and he says "none of us feel good about it, ma'am, but we don't join the marines to feel good" okay but that isn't an answer... like you know that isn't an answer... right??

he's going on about a woman back home dying before her wedding night and the doctors finding snakes in her stomach and scully is like well that sounds fake as hell. and he counters with NUH-UH IT WAS MY FIANCE. ooooh scully was gagged. like what do you even say to that. (zuko voice) "that's rough, buddy"

NOOOO chester broke free from the car.... this is always a risk when leaving children to their own devices. it does make him seem more suspicious, and i was ROOTING for him!!! mulder chases him down because remember, mulder is a track star

and then i think, is this the scene where he sees a cat that has crossed my dash before? yes, it is! a meowing is heard as soon as i wrote those words in my notes. so my hypothesis is that the boy turned into the cat. because he said he gets in and out of the camp as he pleases! and what creature could do that with greater ease than a cat?

(by the end of this episode, my theory is challenged. but it's still nice to imagine)

the colonel is being a man baby... who is shocked? it sure isn't me!!! he's furious to hear about the body being gone, and says "what kind of barbaric religion would desecrate a grave?" to which i gesture vaguely to all cases of a body being moved after being buried, which we usually understand as the work of individuals and not place the blame on entire belief systems... but i got the subtext. he's a bigot.

scully asks him about the beating allegations and he says no way, if anyone is being beaten its actually my men. and then they leave him to eat his breakfast. they clearly do not believe what he had to say

at this point i had flashbacks to the first breakfast scene we saw, and thought that it was going to turn into bugs- but it didn't! instead his food started BLEEDING. gross

so they're going back in the car to go to the motel and scully turns the key and something cuts her hand?!? it looked at first like barbed wire, but then we see it's some kind of thorny branch. conspicuously placed in their vehicle!

"let me see that", says mulder, to whom she replies "oh it's nothing", and he looks visibly annoyed at not being allowed to investigate her little hand cut. let him doctor you sometimes, scully, he needs to feel useful. also you're gonna get blood on the wheel!!!!

at this point i'm freaking out, because what kind of plant was that?! what if it's poison? what if it's the poison that is also in pufferfish and frogs and makes you see stuff?

they speed off and we see... their car had the mark beneath it!!! the mark from earlier which is associated with destruction!!!!!!

cutscene to the colonel beating bauvais. no one is shocked. but it is still a sad sight. he's asking him how he does the magic.

mulder opens the door to his room and a ten of diamonds falls out. he seems to know what this means, even though i do not, and goes to route 10, where he meets...?

DEEP THROAT 2.0?? in north carolina??? mulder says he thought their last meeting would have been their final- remember, when he told mulder to stop chasing down the people involved with scully's kidnapping, and then shot a guy right in front of him, then came back to say the bad guys were gonna search his house- remember that? seemed pretty final to me as well. but clearly not

he says that their search is faltering, and that in 24 hours everyone but the military will be denied access to the camp. mulder is pissed, and is asking why the refugees are being held up, and why are they being beaten, and he says that "those people are innocent civilians, some people in congress might have a problem with that". deep throat 2.0 points out that by the time congress makes an investigation committee, their tracks will be covered, which rings true. but damn, mulder believing- or wanting to believe- that the government will helps people says so much about his character.

so basically deep throat 2.0 shows up to antagonize him for not being on the right track and then leaves. much like deep throat 1.0.

we see scully back at the motel, and her hand is covered in spots and blood, and i wrote a "NOOOOOOO" in my notes because i was distressed!!!!

she knocks on what she thinks is mulder's door- it's door 7, i thought he was in 10?- and the door is unlocked, so she just walks in. but she hears water running, like a shower/bath, so she just talks to mulder through the door LMAOOOO i thought that was so sweet. very married behavior. talking to the husband (platonic or romantic or a secret third thing) while he showers. the private they spoke to went AWOL! isn't that interesting, mulder?

mulder...? there's bloody water pouring in beneath the door?

she busts it open, probably thinking the worst, and it's the louisiana private from before laying dead in the bathtub while water runs. which is definitely not a great thing, but at least it wasn't mulder dying in there. who, conveniently, makes an entrance, holding our first zombie man at gunpoint!!! and zombie man was holding a dagger!!! things are not looking good for him!!!

they take him in for questioning but honestly i was still worried about her hand at this point. like is anyone gonna tend to it.

we learn that... BAUVAIS IS DEAD? allegedly at his own hand. but given that we saw the colonel beating him... let's just say i do not believe it

scully's grasping her forehead, and mulder is asking what's wrong, and she's saying "i'm fine, it's just a headache", and here i made a note to psychoanalyze the fact that the doctor is unwilling to doctor herself. and i WILL have lots to say on that at a later date.

so the newly-dead-in-the-bathtub private gave his friend's wife something to give to the agents if anything happened to him. and they open it up, and it's a photo of the colonel WITH bauvais. so clearly they knew each other. but how? it really isn't answered tbh

they sneak into his office. nice. and they find CHICKEN FEET in his drawers, on top of papers from the dead privates, who had filed complaints against him. so they DID try to make things right and not just blindly follow orders like the one dude implied!

and then mulder opens a chest, and he holds up some dog tags...

but freeze! a soldier tries to stop them. he only gives up when they show that the dog tags belong to the dead privates, and that the BONES of the very first man are sitting in the chest. BONES??? i did not see that one coming. he KEPT THEM??? and he tried to play it off like someone else did it??? oh colonel you are a sick and twisted individual

and now the colonel is back at bauvais' grave, digging it up, chanting haitian creole and holding a knife. um. not great.

the agents roll up to the scene and scully is hiding her face. "what is it, scully?" he asks; she deflects with an "i'm alright". he astutely responds with a "you don't look alright", at which point i am cheering because YEAHHHH WHUMP NATION. HERE WE ARE!!!! MAKE SOME NOISE!!!!

(i mean, it's bad timing, with a wild colonel they need to go catch, but still. when you get a trope you like, you hold it dear. she tells him to go get the colonel and she'll stay in the car)

i thought that perhaps she was hiding her face because she was seeing things, and then she starts... coughing up blood?? and i'm horrified and wondering if this is real or another trick of the poison, and then her hand starts pouring water and a whole dude comes out of it, at which case i realize we are in hallucination town

and back in the graveyard, the colonel is speaking creole in a demon voice, and he moves his hand and mulder is like... stabbed?? or something??? maybe not with a knife but like psychically? he's down for the count

back to scully cam, the man who had emerged from her hand is speaking in a demon creole as well, so she grabs the good luck charm from chester and BAM! everything clears. shoutout to chester for being a real one. i noted that i knew he was a cat, and just as i typed that, a black kitty showed up on top of the car!!!!!!!!

so, now free from the clutches of evil, she runs out to get mulder, who has been lying in the graveyard.

and the FIRST THING this man says is "you're okay?"

AHHHHHH (inconsolable screaming for a really long time)

mulder, who was laying in a graveyard face down with either a real or a psychic stab wound, and after having witnessed some demon fuckery- immediately his mind goes to making sure that she was okay. oh that terrible, terrible need to protect kicking in, as natural and as undeniable to him as breathing. these two are so intertwined it's sickening. aughhhh i am tearing up typing this. what have they turned me into....

so it appears colonel wharton has been killed by the spirit of bauvais, at least according to what the viewer sees and also mulder's report, so cosmic revenge has been served. scully didn't see all this go down, however, so she just sees him in his coffin and is like ???? but again mulder was face down in the dirt so. she's probably thinking, well, who knows what actually happened

but, direct action worked: the refugees are now being repatriated! the agents ask to see the list of people who are returning and are confused because chester isn't on there. and the soldier says, oh right, that poor boy, he died in the riot a while back

HUH??????? he wasn't really there the whole time? he was a benevolent spirit who ate the french fries they bought him and maybe appeared as a cat???

i love that for him. and i'm also deeply sad to learn that he was dead the whole time. but i'm happy that he is getting to spend the afterlife hustling people and digging for frogs.

(of course, that is, if you believe the mulder sort of theory..... now, if you're scully, you're probably thinking, huh, weird that little boy lied about his name... but then again, after her paranormal nurse experience, i'm not sure she's entirely convinced that positive spirits aren't out and about. there has to be a tiiiiny part of her that holds out hope, even if it's scary)

so, the episode ends with the guy who earlier proclaimed body snatching uncool burying the colonel. and we see that- surprise- he wasn't actually dead! he was somehow also put into a zombie-like state, and is screaming as he is buried alive. ah, justice has been delivered.

overall, i liked this episode! the approach towards handling haitian vodou could definitely have been better and less exoticised, but frankly i was expecting a lot worse. i thought it was an interesting premise, i liked little chester, and there are some ambiguities- like, how did the colonel know bauvais? what put them in the zombie state? was it poison from the thorns that caused the hallucinations? if so, why would the good luck charm clear it? but they were ambiguous enough to just leave me feeling curious, rather than entirely stumped like the last episode did. because i'm still trying to put the pieces in place with that one. i was really thinking it over in the shower today.

anyway, loved their interactions this episode- loved worried mulder, loved trying to play it cool and strong scully, loved her thinking it was his room and waltzing in and reporting while he showered, loved freshly stabbed man asking if she was okay, loved mulder meeting another child and saying i'm gonna make this kid smile, loved him looking pissed when she wouldn't show him the cut on her hand, loved a corrupt military official being buried alive. a lot to enjoy here.

#felt good to be reunited with the blorbos after our forced separation #i want to watch another episode but it takes me longer to type up the notes than it does to watch so not enough time tonight #(pounding on the table) let him play doctor sometimes he needs to feel useful #yes i know you don't want him to “protect” you scully but a leopard cannot change its spots. that man is gonna do what he does.#and i am going to jump into a rabbit hole of research on haitian vodou now to see what it got right and wrong #maybe i can try and find some resources in french to practice! but like baby french. i'm not that good after all.#juni's x files liveblog #the x files #txf

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quietboxcrafter · 2 years ago

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Context

I saw this post and knew I had some wild stories to add. I'm the oldest of four brothers, so the siblings and I had a lot of time to come up with complex forms of childlore society.

In addition to the blood siblings, my mom babysat the children of a single mom that worked 24 shifts in an emergency room, so her children would come over around 11 a.m. and then depart around 5 p.m. the following day - staying at our house for nearly 30 hours at a time every 2-3 days. She had 3 children; between the 7 of us, lots of childlore was built.

The Actual Childlore

We had The Seven Trials of Torture, which were an advanced routine designed to build tolerance to pain. I don't remember all of The Trials, but one of them involved disrupting an army ant hill and sitting in it barefoot for a certain amount of time; whilst attempting to maintain calm.

Another time we had The Beatdown Chamber, which also had to do with pain tolerance and psychological willpower. Everyone would form a circle and one unlucky soul would stand in the middle. At this point, everyone would begin to attack the central kid as viciously as possible (within reason - obviously no direct hits to the face, etc.). The central child would attempt to remain standing for as long as possible - if they crumpled under the pain, their turn was over and we were all to immediately cease attacking. Then it was the next person's turn. The Beatdown Chamber was volunteer only, but nonetheless, I believe everyone gave it a try. It was surprisingly painful, and in everyone's mind, they expected to last longer, but the fact that you can't defend yourself properly since the attacks are coming from all directions does something weird to your fight or flight response - especially since fighting back was forbidden. I believe the record was 7 seconds.

We also had, the likely more common among children: Hobbitfoot Training. This just involved running through sharp rocks, thorns, thistles, etc, in order to gain the highly sought after power that Hobbits from Lord of The Rings had to walk around everywhere barefoot without pain. This one did yield surprising results, and as an adult I sometimes find myself wishing the training didn't wear off.

Additionally, but unrelated to Hobbitfoot Training, we tried running barefoot through the snow on our way to touch a tree and back. The tree was a decent distance away. Only three of this tried this, but all three of us turned back only 1/3 of the way to the goal howling in pain. This was unexpectedly painful. It was like the cold sunk down into the very bones of our feet and evolved from an extreme chill to a deep throbbing pain in the soles of our feet, and the pain took several minutes to begin to fade.

We also had a form of government, and advanced imaginary games that somewhat resemble larping today, but as we were all homeschooled and didn't have internet/tv, we developed most of our culture independently - although it was heavily influenced by videogames. Fascinatingly, although we encountered other children, the most of our core culture was only shared with the seven of us, and since we were essentially a cultural island, disconnected from the rest of childlore society, when we all grew up, the culture sort of died there and didn't spread to other children as is typical with childlore.

It should also be noted that we genuinely had fun in the midst of all of these events, and I look back on my childhood with a great fondness.

Obviously some of these (all of these?) activities are pretty dangerous and if a parent saw any children doing this, they'd undoubtedly stop them, but that's Childlore for ya. I'm sure these stories aren't too unlike other groups of siblings out there, so I'd be interested to hear what experiences other people had. Thanks for reading!

Haunted and excited by this being a field of study

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midnight-coffeebreak · 9 months ago

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gonna try to start posting about my Alpha Sapphire Nuzlocke I mentioned earlier

it's actually going decently! I'm having fun with it, despite a couple deaths that affected me

here's the rules I'm following, the rest will be under the cut (and future posts will be tagged with #AsciiMon Alpha)

So here I am, starting an Alpha Sapphire Nuzlocke. it's the easiest game to Nuzlocke according to the internet, so what's the worst that could happen :)

he didn't know what would happen later on in the run

so I got my Mudkip, named him Pringle, and the run officially started! ...and then I realized I didn't get pokeballs until later, so I had to backtrack a bit when I did (apologies for not having many screenshots from Early Run)

first encounter that wasn't my starter was a Zigzagoon! I named him Utz, like the chip company. it goes with Pringle, ok

this is also around the time I created The Graves for my dead Pokemon to go into. Surely nobody major would end up there, right? RIGHT!?

eventually on Route 102, I got a Poochyena that I creatively named Shadow. "ooh, what a nice early game encounter!" I thought, before I immediately encountered a Ralts that I could no longer get because Nuzlocke Rules.

back on track, Route 103 gave me Bloop the Wingull! a Pokemon I would come to rely on later in the run

then I met Wally, and saw him get his Ralts, still salty that I didn't have one myself.

after knocking out Rival May, Route 104 got me Pollen The Wurmple, which I was super happy about! Pollen grew to be another pokemon I'd rely on for kills

and then I entered Petalburg Woods, and kept getting dupes for a solid 5 minutes. I kept searching, briefly interrupted by the plot, until I finally found Onion the Slakoth. I never used her. I did so much searching that Pollen actually evolved into Cascoon lmao

(she's still rotting in my boxes)

Route 116's encounter was a Whismur, a find I was super happy about! ...until I immediately killed it trying to lower its health. BUT WAIT, IN RUSTURF TUNNEL, I ENCOUNTERED ANOTHER WHISMUR. AND IT'S TECHNICALLY NOT DUPE CLAUSE BECAUSE I KILLED THE LAST ONE. also I felt nice to myself, so I caught him immediately and named him Xilent (after an EDM artist I like). Xilent went on to also be nicknamed "The Fucking GOAT" because he would tank a lot of hits for me

"this is a really nice team I've got going on! surely we won't lose anyone soon-"

and then Shadow died to a random trainer. our first death of the run (tbh I didn't really feel anything beyond "WELL THEN...")

"BUT SURELY NOBODY IMPORTANT WILL DIE LATER!" those are special surprise words that'll help us later!

Pringle evolved into Marshtomp, and it was time for Roxxane, the first gym of many! to be honest, very clean sweep. I just ran in with Pringle and Xilent, and the first badge was ours with no deaths

took Brawly down easily too, and it was off to Granite Cave to meet up with Steven. in there, I encountered an Abra that I immediately threw a pokeball at... and then it teleported away, making me lose any future encounters

onto Route 110, that encounter was caught! welcome NomNom the Gulpin to our team! surely with him on the team, we can take down the random Team Aqua Grunt encounter coming up, right!? They have a Carvanha, but I'll tank it with Xilent!

...I think this screenshot from when I was live-texting my run sums this up perfectly

YUP. XILENT TANKED A HIT, I TRIED TO HEAL, AND THEN HE DIED RIGHT AFTER. MY SECOND DEATH OF THE ENTIRE RUN, AND IT FUCKING HURT. MY FAVORITE TEAM MEMBER, JUST GONE FROM A GRUNT BATTLE.

getting forcefully sidetracked by Lisia, I got a Cosplay Pikachu that I named Purin. honestly a great free pokemon to get, seeing as she's Level 20 and has three Electric moves

I thought my run was going great! and then May asked to fight me. this fight... oh my god this fight... it almost killed the run.

I lead in with Pollen the Beautifly, "he has Absorb and an Oran Berry! surely he'll survive this fight-" he tanked a Rollout from May's Wailmer, living on 15/51 HP. me, being stupid, thought "NAH, HE'LL LIVE! Pollen, use Absorb!" ...Wailmer got to attack first, and used Rollout again, killing Pollen. my first full evo, and third death of the run. another death that really hurt; I wanted Wurmple for so long, only to see him die at his final evo TO A WAILMER SPAMMING ROLLOUT.

"s-surely Bloop the Wingull can carry the rest of the match!" Bloop got one-shotted by the same move that killed Pollen. only four pokemon left, and I was losing hope. I brought out Pringle as a last ditch effort, and he managed to win the battle. we beat May, but with two deaths that really hurt.

I got Mini the Maril on Route 117, but that encounter wasn't enough to help me cope with the loss of Pollen and Bloop

and that's where I stopped playing for the day. food was coming, and it was getting late.

the current team is looking good though! I'm amazed that I've kept Utz the Zigzagoon for this long. the rest of my team is pretty good too, mainly NomNom the Gulpin and Purin the Pikachu

I'll probably continue playing when I get home. wish me luck on the run!

#niles ramblings #Nuzlocke #alpha sapphire #AsciiMon Alpha

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devildomwriter · 3 years ago

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Obey Me As Tumblr #9

Leviathan: I wish puberty took you to a customize character screen

Satan: Do you realize how many people would be dragons

Solomon: You say this like it’s a bad thing

•

Mammon: Uptown funk would’ve made it onto the shrek soundtrack

Solomon: That’s the truest statement I’ve ever read

•

Asmodeus: Once in the fifth grade this kid called me a homo and I thought it meant homeless and I was so confused I said ‘Raphael you’ve been to my house’

•

Mammon: My brother just accidentally prematurely sent an email to his boss…. It was supposed to say ‘I am afraid that we will have to postpone our meeting’ but he hit send when all it said was

Hi, Diavolo

I am afraid

•

Mammon: Fun Disney fact! Fiona was the first red-headed Disney Princess when she made her debut in 1988, one year before Ariel did in The Little Mermaid (1989)

Mephistopheles: Shrek came out in 2001

Mammon: Good for him

•

Satan: One time in math class my math teacher was really pissed at us and he was yelling “DO YOU EVEN KNOW BASIC MATH? DO YOU KNOW ADDITION? WHAT’S TWO PLUS TWO? MAMMON WHAT’S TWO PLUS TWO?” and poor Mammon wasn’t paying attention so I leaned over to him and whispered “seven” and he blurted out “SEVEN” and I have never laughed harder and I doubt I ever will.

•

Asmodeus: Today at work I let someone into a dressing room and they said “thank you” and half of me tried to say “you’re welcome” and the other half tried to say “no problem” and I ended up saying “your problem.”

Mammon: One time I was playing soccer in gym. Ball is up in the air. Think I’m gonna be awesome and air kick it into the goal. Try. Miss ball. Kick goalie in the face. Try to ask “are you okay” and

“I’m fucking sorry” at the same time. Instead end up yelling “ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY!?” Goalie is cooking back tears.

Leviathan: This post had me in tears.

•

Raphael: That’s a cute foot fetish you got there, would you mind keeping it 25796323689432 feet away from me?

Asmodeus: 25796323689432 feet you say?

•

Simeon: If you had six minutes left to live what’s the last song you’d listen to

Leviathan: I’d spend the entire six minutes trying to pick a song

•

Mammon: You call it “really bad at darts”, I call it freestyle acupuncture

Barbatos: Sir I’m going to have to ask you to leave the bar

•

Mammon: Can you OD on vitamin D?

Mephistopheles: That’s how Icarus died

•

Leviathan: I’m really into internet discourse but only pointless and stupid internet discourse like how many holes there are in a straw (it’s 2)

Mephistopheles: No it’s an infinite amount of holes stacked on top of eachother

Leviathan: This is exactly what I’m talking about

•

Luke: I have small hands

Leviathan: Bring them closer to you they’re just far away

Luke: Wow you were right…

•

Diavolo: You ever dip your entire Oreo in milk except the part where you’re holding it and feel like thetis dipping newborn Achilles into the River of Styx making him invulnerable everywhere except for his heel

•

Solomon:

Two things I need today’s youth to know:

1. Anything the government says is propaganda

2. 99% of vegetables taste better roasted

Barbatos: you spelled boiled wrong

Solomon:

My apologies:

Anything the government says is boiled

•

Diavolo: The weirdest instance of “getting my wires crossed” I’ve ever experienced: I had a piece of candy at my desk. My intention was to simultaneously eat the candy and start a brief work task. I put the candy in my mouth and felt a surge of alarm as I was convinced, for a fraction of a second, that I had somehow eaten the task I was about to start.

•

Asmodeus: Hope everyone is well today!

Asmodeus: And tomorrow !!!!

Asmodeus: After that you’re on your own

•

Luke: Omg my guardian just came into my room and told me that I’m spending too much time on the internet so he told me “I’m sorry I have to do this but it’s for your own good.” and then he proceeded to delete the internet explorer icon from my desk top

And the way he said “I just deleted the internet” just takes the cake

Last • Next

#obey me shall we date #funny obey me #obey me as tumblr #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me raphael #obey me mephistopheles #obey me thirteen

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astrangergivingthestrangewelcome · 2 years ago

Text

Journaling vs. Podcasting in Dracula/Murrary Mysteries

No spoilers provided you are caught up to dracula daily

So I love Murray Mysteries, to date it's the best adaptation I've seen of Dracula and the only one that gets the found family down. But as I have occasionally said, my biggest criticism is the Podcast format does not work for me. A great example is all this with the Demeter. In the book Mina just pastes the newspaper in her journal, ok she's interested by this and is saving it for herself later. Totally works for me.

In Murray Mysteries Mina airs the frantic dying logs of a captain who we can audibly hear slowly losing her mind as the trip continues and then she ends her podcast segment like "cool mystery huh we'll give you updates as the story progresses" and I found that I just had to ignore it in order to still like Mina. Who just airs something like that, to get views on their podcast?? You do not have the right to do that to that poor woman and her loved ones, and is that even legal?? Girl literally just died. In general, the podcast's heavy emotional moments pretty much always hit for me, but I would have to forcibly over look that in no way would anyone actually experiencing these things be ok with putting them on the internet forever.

Then we got to the section in the book, and I realized that Murray Mysteries did face a difficult challenge in translating the epistolary style (which is a cool style I emulate it when I write fic for Dracula too) into the 21st century. Why doesn't the correspondent publishing the logs feel as icky to me? Well for one it is news, and he's publishing it, like, the captain went to an awful lot of work to make sure there was an account of the last days of the Demeter, seems that somebody should. Mina is not a news reporter, she's doing it for entertainment, and it just feels so wrong to me that her response to hearing this tragedy that Just Occurred is immediately "ooohh I can use this for profit." I don't want to get too hypocritical, we all love true crime stories and what not but her delivery just felt really insensitive to me. And there's something much more invasive about hearing the captain's despair rather than reading it that just made me go "wow this is not your place to share and the Mina Murray I know would think so too, she recorded this for the authorities not for people to oogle at her demise."

But then, what other possibility other than podcast was really open to these writers? The reason the framing device of Dracula works is journalling is naturally more private. You journal in order to put down your thoughts and experiences for posterity, and you probably are writing with the thought that someone will read them one day, but you can have control over that. You can be more intimate because you can decide which hands its going into. And you can always destroy the pages and the information is gone. Writing down all his horrors really is just Jonathan's way of processing what is going on in his life first, and is meant as a record for really really loved ones like Mina second. That makes all the sheer intensity of these entries and this novel possible in a believable way for me anyway.

That's just... not really done in the same way today. Who journals anymore? If you tried to tell the story of Dracula through a bunch of 21st century journalers I would be extremely skeptical. I'm sure some people still do, I know I was enamored with the thought of being a diary keeper when I was a kid (not that I had the perservance for it though many attempts were tried). It's all become blogs, vlogs and podcasts and although you can be an unreserved, open sort of person very authenticly on these sort of things if you have that personality, there's still a difference in how you present yourself when you're putting yourself out there to the whole internet. The manufactured authencity is so much more real- I mean you literally edit yourself before posting.

I don't really have a conclusion to make for this post, other than I never realized how much ye olde journalling has transforming into mediums that are by and large public with an audience the producer can only marginally control. This really makes it difficult for anyone wanting to adapt the framing device of an old epistolary novel into a modern setting with the same intimacy and sincerity. We're really not a private world anymore at all.

#murray mysteries #dracula daily

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 4 years ago

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that makes four.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

PART 4

Tristan had slapped his menu shut before you could even sit down. He’d been begging you to try a new place in Encino with him, you figured it was a good excuse to get Zoey out of the house and to let Maeve and CeCe duke it out in Shelli and Irv’s backyard instead of yours.

It was all work talk at first, he offered an update on a meeting you missed to drop off Maeve at a friend’s and Zoey sucked down a glass of wine promising to pump and dump before the night ended.

But now your plates were in front of you and you twirled spaghetti around your fork when she asked: “How’s your pool boy?” You stared up at her, unimpressed.

“He’s not my pool boy, and he’s fine.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows across the table. “Would you let Harry Styles be your pool boy?”

“Can we not talk about him like this, please?”

“Oh come on,” Tristan pulled a face. “If you’re not going to sleep with him at least let us fantasize.”

You must have twitched, a quick glance in Zoey’s direction or a quiver of your lip. Zoey leaned in and her voice was serious. “What was that?”

“What? Nothing.”

“What do you mean what was that?” Tristan asked.

“She made a weird face when you said that.”

“No I didn’t,” you defended. “I just don’t like talking about him in public, especially like this.”

“Bullshit,” Zoey laughed, leaned back in her chair. “What are you not telling us? Did you see him shirtless again?”

You let out a breath, wiped at your mouth and wondered if telling them would be the biggest mistake of your life. You couldn’t even get the words out before Zoey leaned in.

“You had sex with him?!” her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, Tristan’s fork clanked against his plate when his jaw dropped open.

You’d made it a whole week, almost. You pushed the thoughts down and brushed them under the metaphorical work rug. The body wash prototypes were in, you were booking models to do a photoshoot, video shoot, everything was getting lined up for the rollout in another few weeks. You didn’t have time to tell them about something silly and stupid and maybe a part of you didn’t want to fill them in because you were afraid they’d burst your bubble. It’ll never work out, what happens when his house is ready, he has a tour to go on.

“Be quiet,” you looked around and worried if anyone had overheard Tristan’s not-so-subtle name drop. “It’s not a big deal, okay? It’s not like it’s gonna be a regular thing.”

Tristan pulled his head back, offended by your words. “You had sex with him and you’re not going to make that a regular thing? Have you seen him?”

“Yes,” you made a face at Tristan. “I have seen him.”

“You are going to hit and quit Harry Styles?” Zoey leaned in and said his name much more quietly now.

“Well,” you dropped their gaze for a second, reluctant to be honest with them in fear of their reaction. “It’s happened once, and then we kissed once but CeCe came down, but she didn’t see anything. I’m just too old to be hooking up with a twenty-four year old.”

“Wait, okay, slow down. When did this happen?” Zoey asked.

“After my birthday dinner,” you shrugged. “We came home, had wine, the girls were out.”

“And when did you make out with him aside from that night?”

“The next night. And we didn’t make out, it was barely even open-mouthed.”

“Ew,” Tristan grimaced.

Zoey snapped to get your attention. “So twenty-four hours after you had sex, you kissed him?”

You made a face at her, unsure where she was going with it. You hadn’t been clocking or documenting your sexual encounters. “I don’t know, probably.”

“This is straight out of a trashy romance book written for middle aged women,” Tristan leaned back in his seat and took a pull from his glass of rosé. “I mean that in, like, a nice way.”

“Okay,” Zoey leaned forward. “So, nothing has happened since a week ago, then?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly. “Just those times. And I don’t think anything should happen again.”

They both groaned at the same time, Zoey’s shoulders sunk and she rolled her eyes. “You deserve to have sex with a hot guy.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Even if he’s younger than you.”

“I don’t want to traumatize my children.”

“Well you don’t have to have sex in front of them,” Tristan made a goofy face and you waved him off.

Zoey snorted out a laugh but you ignored their immaturity.

“I mean that having Harry here is already probably confusing for them, right? Their dad leaves, their grandpa dies, now we have some stranger in our house and he’s playing with them in the backyard and--”

“Being more of a dad to them than Luke ever was?”

Zoey’s words brought a sigh out from between your lips. “Exactly.”

“Having a positive male role model is good for them,” Tristan said.

“Sure,” you nodded. “But what about when Harry moves out? He’ll just be another man that will leave them. They’ll be super fucked up.”

Tristan reached forward and took your hand in his. “Hey--it’s more about the fact that they have you and they have other people who love them. Who cares if their idea of a family isn’t the stereotypic, heterosexual norm?”

“I know,” you relented. “I just don’t want them to be poorly adjusted.”

“Okay, that sounds like something an obnoxious prep school guidance counselor would say to you,” Zoey eyed you with skepticism.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was Maeve’s teacher.”

“Okay, fuck that teacher!” Tristan nodded. “Your kids are adjusting, and that’s because of how good of a mom you are to them. And mommy deserves a pool boy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if his words were worthy of an eye-roll. Zoey tried not to let wine drip from her nose after a snort escaped between sips.

“Not my pool boy!” You giggled.

“Which is good,” Tristan nodded, his tone completely serious. “That would be so cliché even Nora Roberts wouldn’t write it.”

Slumber parties always made you anxious. They were one of those things that made you question how on earth people trusted you to watch a group of children when sometimes, you still felt like one yourself.

Maeve’s 11th birthday party was no exception. Five other girls danced around your living room and CeCe sat at the counter while you iced cupcakes. Her little face was scrunched into a pout so intensely that it almost made you giggle.

“You alright?” You asked her, dish towel over your shoulder when she let out another sigh.

“Just wish I could play with them,” she held her palms towards the sky in exasperation, reaching for a container of sprinkles when you let out a laugh.

“You get to go for ice cream with Uncle Jeff, remember? You’re gonna go to the beach, too, I think.”

You’d been trying to bribe her all week: a new tutu, a new doll, anything she wanted just to make her give up and accept the fact that her older sister didn’t want her at her slumber party.

And you couldn’t blame either of them. Of course Maeve didn’t want her younger (and very loud, dramatic, and demanding) younger sister trailing behind all night. But, on the other hand, of course CeCe felt left out when she saw all of the older girls arrive with their sleeping bags and birthday gifts.

She sighed again, your conversation interrupted by a ringing from your cell phone on the counter beside her.

“Uncle Jeff?”

She was right, you reached for the phone and held it up with your shoulder, hoping the laughter from the living room wouldn’t travel it’s way into the speaker.

“Hi--are you here?”

“Y/N, I am so sorry to do this--”

“Oh god, Jeff, no!”

“I just got called into the office because one of my artists apparently just posted some stupid shit on the internet--isn’t there someone else who can hang out with CeCe? Where’s Tristan?”

“I don’t know where he is, but I doubt he’d be thrilled to play dress up or skip through a park.”

“Zoey?”

You could hear traffic through his line, his karma for backing out at the last minute was having to sit on the 405. “She has a ten-week-old infant, Jeffrey.”

“Well where’s Harry? Can’t he pitch in?”

You let out a groan, CeCe had taken to pouring sprinkles into her hand and lapping them up with her tongue.

Harry was upstairs, hiding away from the girl gang currently singing karaoke and sipping on juice boxes. He had the day off and had dipped out in the afternoon to meet a friend for lunch. You tried to mind your own business--he could come and go as he pleased and just because you had slept with him once didn’t give you the right to suddenly start asking questions about his plans.

But the universe pitied you, apparently, because right when you told Jeff you’d figure it out and hung up on him aggressively, Harry pranced down the stairs and headed for the fridge.

“How’s it going down here?” He reached for a juice box, crisp apple, and fumbled with the straw when he turned to face you.

“Everyone is alive and nothing is broken,” you scanned the counter, another batch of cupcakes still in the oven with 10 minutes to go.

With the straw now between his lips, he raised his eyebrows. “Bar’s that low, huh?”

“Well, your friend Jeffrey just bailed on watching CeCe and going for ice cream.”

She was blissfully unaware of the change of plans, still licking sprinkles out of her palm, but now swiveled around on the stool to watch the girls jump around in the other room.

“I can take her,” he shrugged nonchalantly, ran a hand through his hair when you stared at him for a second.

If traffic was Jeff’s karma, Harry must have been yours.

“Are you serious? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “CeCe? What do you say we do ice cream and pizza?”

She turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes lit up. “Pepperoni?” She asked.

“Of course,” Harry replied to her like it was a crazy question.

“Is Uncle Jeff coming?”

“He’s not,” You informed her, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re alright to go with Harry?”

You didn’t mean to make it awkward, but mom mode kicked in and you realized CeCe had never spent time alone with Harry except maybe in the backyard.

“Yeah!” She hopped down from the stool and grinned up at him. “Can I get a milkshake?”

Harry looked over to you and when you nodded, he held out his hand. “As many as you want.”

“That’s not what I said,” you called after him, watching as he led her over to the back door. He plucked his keys off the hook on the wall and smiled at you over his shoulder. “Please don’t be out late, text me when you get where you’re going!”

CeCe shouted a bye mommy!!!! before they disappeared into the driveway. A sudden raise in your pulse had you questioning what type of mother lets their 6-year-old get in the car with a pop star who’s probably hounded by paparazzi and maybe even doing cocaine on the weekends.

You picked up your phone and it rang four times before Zoey answered. “I need you to talk me off the ledge.”

“What ledge?”

The timer beeped and you gloved up to retrieve the rest of the cupcakes. “I’m apparently a psychopath because I just let Harry take CeCe for pizza and ice cream.”

You could tell she held back a laugh. “Why does that make you a psychopath?”

“Because he’s a stranger! What if he never comes back with her? What if he gets chased by paparazzi and CeCe is the next Princess Diana?!” The thought shuttered through your bones, a shiver down your spine when Zoey cleared her throat.

“Okay, so, as a mom, I totally get that. But I also think you’re freaking out too much.”

The cupcake tin rattled onto the granite. “How?!”

“He’s not a stranger, he’s been living with you guys for like, over a month now.”

You thought about it for a second. Two weeks turned into a few more, four weeks slipped by easily. What felt like it was going to be a blip on the radar now felt like a totally normal thing: dinners with him as the fourth seat and texts to him in the middle of the day asking if there was anything he was in the mood for.

“I just can’t believe I trust him enough to do that, I guess.”

“Y/N, he’s a good guy,” she laughed. “He likes your kids and he definitely likes you.”

“We’re not going there,” you said. “I have a house full of ten-year-olds and cupcakes to frost.”

“Okay, well, you’re not a psychopath. And there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for him.”

“Zoey! You are starting to sound like the psychopath!”

“I’m alright with that,” laughter through the phone when you told her you had to go. Love you, see you later, pinch Benny’s cheeks for me.

You were swept up in the excitement of the night. Your own pizza was delivered before 8pm, a movie turned on by 9pm. They decorated cupcakes at the dining room table and proceeded to eat more than they could fit in their tummies.

Maeve was in heaven, opened presents when you snapped pictures on your phone. Harry had texted to let you know they’d stop at Shelli and Irv’s before heading home. If CeCe came home in the middle of presents, she’d probably break down right there.

So when you heard the alarm signal a new entry, you hoped CeCe was too tired to argue with you about sleeping in her own room and not in Maeve’s with the rest of them. Your legs were folded beneath you on the couch, noise in the kitchen when Harry rounded the corner with CeCe asleep on his shoulder.

You stood up, eyebrows high when he smirked in your direction. “She’s out cold,” he laughed. “Fell right asleep on the way home.”

“It’s like a ten minute drive from their house,” you said, opening your arms to take her. “Sorry, here.”

“I can bring her up...just lead the way,” he motioned with his head for you to go first up the stairs. He followed you down the hall and to CeCe’s room, pink walls and a plush carpet underneath her twin-sized bed that still seemed too big for her.

He put her down when you flipped on a nightlight, watched when you tugged the duvet over her and kissed her on the forehead. You sighed when you stood up straight beside him, voice quiet. “I’m not waking her up to brush her teeth cause she’ll freak out and want to be included in the party. Am I a bad mom?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, smirked down at you quickly before looking back to her. “You’re a great mom.”

You elbowed him in the ribs playfully. “You have to say that.”

“I do?”

“I’m your landlord,” you laughed, leading him back into the hallway.

“I thought you were my friend?”

A sigh, the darkness a cover for your confusion and your fluttering heart beat. “Yeah, that too.”

He was quiet for a second, if it weren’t for the bedroom of kids down the hall you’d pull him into you despite better judgment. He stared down at you with a dimpled smile, but you took a step back.

“Thanks for taking her, and hanging out with her. You really didn’t have to.”

“I had fun,” he reassured you. “We got a pizza and ate in a park near Westwood Hills, then got ice cream, visited with Shelli and Irv,” he listed it off like it brought him as much joy as it did her.

“Hey, not to be weird or anything, but--how’s your house coming?”

He sensed the shift in the air too, but he didn’t know that it came from a place of fear. A question you had to ask: this was temporary, this wasn’t real, this was just a convenient set up and you couldn’t lose sight of that.

“Oh, yeah--I’m going over on Sunday to see it. Apparently there are still issues with the plumbing that have to be updated. They said it might be a few more weeks.”

“Okay, I just didn’t know.”

“Yeah, is that okay? I can try to find somewhere to stay if you need me out?”

“No,” you said it quickly. “I don’t need you to leave.”

“Okay,” he said, his eyes still on yours. He reached forward to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I like staying here with you guys.”

“...I like it too.”

“Mom?” Maeve’s head poked out of her bedroom. “Hayley spilled soda on the carpet!”

He stepped back from you quickly, like his reflexes were getting better each time. You laughed at his sudden movement, “coming!”

He smiled down at you and let out an exaggerated sigh once Maeve’s door was slammed shut and the music was back on, a magnetic pull between your chests that maybe he felt too. “Hayley, Hayley, Hayley.”

But again, a rush of uncertainty and self-doubt made you grateful for the interruption, your stomach weaving itself in knots when you stared at your ceiling fan and hoped that sleep would come.

Work picked up in the next week, Tristan was in your office most days with spreadsheets and graphs and to-do lists that made you feel like you needed a margarita at 2pm. On Wednesday Harry made dinner and CeCe had a meltdown when you forced her to take a bath.

Friday night entailed dinner at Shelli and Irv’s, the girls and Harry and Jeff too. You stood in the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand, Shelli watched as their chef sautéed something through steam. When Jeff pulled Harry away to show him a new guitar Irv had been gifted, you ignored the smile on Shelli’s face.

“How are things going?”

“Fine,” you said, casually and calm and cool. “How are you?”

“Y/N,” she smiled. “Does Jeffrey know?”

“Know what?”

“About you and Harry?”

“No,” you told her quickly. “There’s nothing to know, alright? We were drunk, it was not a big deal.”

“Alright,” she held up a hand, effectively resigning when she sipped her Pinot Grigio, a disappointed sigh before she asked: “How are the girls holding up?”

You sighed, unsure if she’d really drop it. You told her about Maeve’s birthday party and caught her up on the body wash debut. Deadlines were quickly approaching, the launch party was being scheduled and production was full steam ahead.

You almost thought you’d make it through the rest of the night without any drama--no more mention of Harry or the happenings between you. But eventually he and Jeff found their way back to the kitchen and you hoped that no one noticed how close Harry stood to you.

Jeff was in the middle of filling you and Shelli in on Harry’s album plans: they were wrapping up production and soon they’d announce the release date, his excitement cut off by a shout from the backyard.

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice was shrill and desperate as it rang through the house. She let out a loud sob and when you looked up, you saw her clutching her elbow with a new grass stain on her shirt. She was fine, it was one of those moments where she thought the world was ending but everyone else knew getting knocked over by her sister wouldn’t kill her.

“She’s fine,” Maeve rolled her eyes, a quick look down to CeCe who’s eyes were already filled with tears.

“No I’m not!” she screamed back at her sister.

You looked to Shelli with an exasperated look, set your glass of wine down on the counter. Before you could make any movement, though, Harry’s hand hovered on the small of your back. “I’ll go, enjoy the wine. She’s fine.”

He was right, there was no question that CeCe would survive her scraped elbow and bruised ego. He moved towards the backyard and you were frozen in place when Jeff’s forehead wrinkled.

“What was that?” he asked, eyebrows strung together like tea lights once Harry was out of earshot.

“I don’t know--what do you mean?”

You looked over at Harry, now on the ground in front of CeCe who’s wails were much quieter. She wiped at her wet eyes, a little laugh escaped her lips when Harry brushed the grass off of her elbow and cracked a joke.

“Well, he seems pretty good with them,” Jeff leaned against the counter, the sliding door providing a perfect view as CeCe stood up and raced back towards Maeve.

“Yeah, I mean, he is.”

“He also touched your back in a funny way.”

Shelli raised her eyebrows and sipped at her wine again.

“And now my mom is making a weird face,” Jeff’s eyes narrowed when he looked at you. “Are you--is there, like, something going--”

“No,” you said quickly, a finger pointed at Shelli and another pointed at Jeff. “Do not say anything in front of the girls.”

Shelli stifled a laugh but managed to look incredibly innocent at the same time.

“Oh my god!” Jeff said this with a noise of shock, eyes wide when he looked between you and Shelli, then back out to the yard where Harry laughed with Irv. “Oh my god, and you knew?”

Shelli shrugged her shoulders, a don’t blame me look crossed her face when you took a swig of wine to calm the pounding of your heart.

Jeff had always been protective and caring and like a brother. Not in a weird way, not in the you can’t date my friends way. Just in the sense that he wanted to know who you were hooking up with and he’d been encouraging you relentlessly to stop picking assholes ever since you filed for divorce.

But this was different, this was a friend of his and a client of his. It was someone that his entire family knew and this was probably the worst choice of rebound.

“Please relax,” you said this with a look of warning in his direction. “I will explain to you what your lunatic mother is smirking about but you have about fifteen seconds to wipe the look of shock off your face before he comes back in here.”

“She’s fine,” Harry waved a hand once he was back in the kitchen. “And what look of shock are we wiping off of our faces?” The dimple was there again, the corner of his mouth pulled up and he scanned all three of you for any sort of information.

“Just that you are so good with the girls,” Jeff covered for you, a confident nod when he hoped Harry would believe him.

“That’s surprising to you?” Harry pulled his head back, an obvious look of mock offense. “I’m great with children. They love me.”

Maeve came in from the fading light, out of breath from running around with whatever ball they’d gotten their hands on. “Who loves you?”

“Kids,” Jeff replied for him.

“Oh,” Maeve said. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” You looked down at her, unsure if she was agreeing or just voicing that she understood.

She shrugged, plucked a chicken skewer from a dish in front of Shelli. “I mean, I like having him around.”

Harry was practically tickled pink. “Thank you, Maeve.” He turned to rub this in Jeff’s face. “See?”

“He cooks well, plays outside with us, definitely funnier than mom,” Maeve kept listing things off, pulling laughter from the rest of the crew.

“Maeve!” You whined. “I’m funny!”

“You’re like, sometimes funny.”

“Sometimes funny is better than never funny,” Harry nodded in your direction, an attempt to soften the blow.

CeCe had wandered in behind her sister, she picked at the scrape on her elbow until you called her attention. “CeCe--do you think mommy’s funny?”

“Mmmm,” the thought on it for a second, put her finger to her chin and scrunched up her nose. “Sort of.”

Jeff let out a big laugh at that, Harry tried to stifle one and you dismissed the jabs. “Okay, well, it’s not like anyone here is a comedian.”

“Harry’s funny,” CeCe said with a smile. “He reads books in silly voices.”

Jeff’s eyebrows shot up at that again, amused and surprised by the fact that Harry was in on the bedtime routine. But it was infrequent, sometimes CeCe would beg for more time outside or another thirty minutes of TV.

If the tears got aggressive or the tantrum became too much, she perked up pretty quickly if Harry offered to read with her. It was way more exciting than reading with you, Maeve had explained.

After showering Harry with compliments, the girls were excited to sit on Shelli and Irv’s patio. Pink lemonade and a delicious dinner, though neither of them would even so much as take a bit of your salad.

They ran around some more while you sipped wine, Jeff and Harry had been talked into a two versus two soccer match and Irv laughed his head off when Maeve actually scored on Jeff. Darkness came and CeCe crawled into your lap, eyelids getting heavy until you buckled her into the backseat.

You’d taken one car, CeCe’s booster seat was too clunky to move over to Harry’s so you drove and felt slightly embarrassed about the crayons and coloring books scattered on the floor of the backseat.

“Mom, can I have another sleepover this weekend?”

“With who?”

“All of the girls from last weekend.”

“Honey, no, that was a big party for your birthday.”

“I’m aware,” she shot back quickly. “But we all had so much fun and we wouldn’t be as loud as we were last time.”

“I said no, Maeve. You can do something with your friends if you want but we’re not doing another sleepover right now.”

You’d been hesitant about it in the first place. A group of ten and eleven-year-olds? With Harry in the house? It felt like a recipe for disaster and aside from a few excited stares when they were first dropped off, you all escaped relatively unscathed.

You worried at first about the whispers from other moms--she’s letting a twenty-four year-old live with her children?--but you soon realized that they were almost more excited about sneaking a glimpse of Harry than their daughters were.

“You’re so annoying,” she quipped from the back. “You never let me do anything fun.”

Harry’s lips twitched up in a tiny smirk, a sideways glance in your direction. You’d already told him how awkward it felt to discipline them with him right there, a glass of wine in the kitchen one night and he teased you about your frustrated mom voice.

“Maeve--don’t be rude. You just had a birthday party and now you want another, basically.”

“No, I want to have the same girls over. It’s not my birthday so it’s not a birthday party.”

A left turn into the driveway. “But you want me to order pizza and make cupcakes and you want to drink a bunch of soda again?”

“Yes.”

You pulled into the garage and cut the engine, turning to look at her. “Maeve, sweetie, I love you. But no.”

She let out a huff and shoved the door open, she typed in the entry code and slammed the door to the house before the rest of you could even climb out.

“The drama,” CeCe shook her head, tired steps towards the house.

“The drama is right,” you told her with a laugh. “Go wash up and I’ll come up in a few, okay?”

She scampered up the steps, you dropped your keys on the counter inside and then turned to look at him. “Do you have a second?”

He nodded, leaned on the counter. “What’s up?”

You didn't know if it was a good idea, but you'd spent enough morning drives to school lecturing about how honest is the best policy, so you figured you'd give it a shot.

“Uh, well--Jeff may or may not be suspicious about you and...me.”

Using the phrase made you nervous, like he’d laugh and think it was stupid. You and me.

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows arched. “Did you--why did that come up?”

“Well you went to handle my crying child, which is--you know--”

He laughed a little, “too boyfriendy of me?”

Your heartbeat picked up in pace, your face felt hot and it suddenly felt like he was watching you too closely.

“No--I don’t know--you touched my back and he just asked what was happening.”

He deflated at that, hung his head low for a second and then looked up. “Oh, I--uh--I’m really sorry, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” You felt bad, that wasn’t the message you were trying to convey. If anything, you wanted to give him the out and the okay that he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to step into your family like some hero for you or your daughters. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I just--I don’t know where you are at, I guess.”

“And now Jeff is asking questions,” he laughed, a nod like he knew where you were going with it.

There was no label necessary. It wasn’t that type of thing, you knew that. “That’s what you walked in on after CeCe got hurt.”

Another nod, like the puzzle pieces were fitting into place. “Right. Got it. Was he--how did he seem? Did you tell him that we--”

“He put it together,” you cut him off, again careful of the words used around the girls even though they were upstairs and--by the sound of it--bickering in the bathroom. “But he was fine with it. I just think we need to be careful, you know. The girls...and this is temporary, and--”

“Absolutely.”

“So, you know, just--”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence. “I should go tuck them in.” You turned on your feet and headed for the stairs before he could reply, desperate to get out of the situation out of fear of having to find more words to string together in a messy jumble of emotions.

Another slammed door from Maeve when you reached the top of the stairs. You knocked twice. “Can I come in, please?”

“No!”

“Maeve,” you leaned against the doorframe. Harry came up and offered an awkward smile. “Please let me talk to you.”

“I’m not talking to you!” She shouted.

Harry came over and knocked. “Maeve? It’s Harry--can I come in?”

Silence for a second, her footsteps were audible on the wood floor. The door opened a crack, she peered out with narrowed eyes. “Fine--but not her.”

You looked over at Harry, unsure of his game plan but also fed up with the theatrics and the overreaction. He shrugged his shoulders half-apologetically, a smirk in your direction before he slipped into the room.

Did you stay and listen? Was it weird? What would he even say to her?

You decided against it, headed for your own bedroom and tugged on pajamas after you flicked on CeCe’s night light and kissed her goodnight. At least only one of them was being dramatic today.

Five minutes passed, then ten. You tried not to look at the clock and focused instead on a book Zoey had told you was a must read.

Eventually there was a knock on your door, Harry pushed it open and smiled. “Do you want some intel?”

“Duh,” you said. “Come in.”

He walked forward and sat on your bed, a sigh when he brought his eyes to yours again. “Well, she said you’re annoying again.”

“Of course.”

“She’s just grumpy. Said Hayley wanted to have a sleepover this weekend because it would be better at her house.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Some 5th grade rivalry.”

“Classic, really.”

You laughed. “Was she okay talking to you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyebrows low on his forehead. “Opened right up.”

“Well, we do know she likes you more.”

He rolled his eyes. “She just likes that I’m not you.”

“Feels like that’s the same thing.”

Quiet for a moment when he angled towards you, scanned your face with his eyes.

“I guess I’ll go say goodnight.”

“Oh, I tucked her in.”

Your mouth tugged into a smirk. “You what?”

“She said she didn’t want you to come in.”

“So you tucked her in?”

He let out a laugh, explained the process like it should have been obvious. “Yeah--pulled up the blanket. Patted her on the head. She said she brushed her teeth.”

You leaned back against the headboard, the same buzzing feeling in your chest took flight when he asked: “why is it so shocking to everyone that I’m good with them?”

It slipped out before you could think of the possible consequences. “Because you’re young.”

“I’m not that young.”

“And Luke was just--not like that. He was pretty disinterested after CeCe was born.” You hoped this was enough of a redirection.

“You’re really caught up on my age, aren’t you?”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows and offered a look that said: bullshit. When he didn’t speak, you cracked a joke.

“Or...you are not hung up enough on how old I am.”

“Why should I care how old you are?”

“Cause you’ve had sex with me and you’re living in my house.”

“Both of those things I am aware of. And feel really good about both of them.”

You let out a laugh at his nonchalance, folded your arms over your chest when he stood up. “You’re something else.”

“I’m not,” you disagreed.

“I think you are,” he nodded, leaned closer to you and offered a challenging glare. His hair was messy, he’d been running around in the backyard with them at Shelli and Irv’s, a few glasses of wine in him seemed to loosen him right up to the point that he was ready to slide tackle your six-year-old.

He watched you for a second, almost like he was waiting for you to stop him. You didn’t, though, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as it looked like he wanted to close to the distance between your chests.

Instead of telling him you shouldn’t, instead of telling him that the girls were down the hall and this was risky, you pulled him on top of you, tugged him by the t-shirt until he flopped down on your bed with a laugh against your lips.

He lifted himself up after a clumsy moment, looked down at you and smirked.

“What?” You asked playfully.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on by someone in my whole life.”

His words circled around you, pulled your body up to melt into his when his hand cupped your face. He laced his fingers through the hair along your neck, the warmth from his body made your pulse rise with each second.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this when they’re home?”

If the dimples on his cheeks weren’t enough, if the way his tattoos littered his skin wasn’t enough, if the look in his eyes right now on top of you was not enough to create a full-on mom fantasy in your head, the way he talked about your daughters was.

“Yeah,” you tugged him back against your mouth, felt the way your hips tilted against his without any thought. His hands moved to your wrists, holding them in place when he trailed his lips down your jaw, down your neck, pressing kisses in a line along your collarbone.

His hands were warm when they grazed your hips, connecting with skin beneath the fabric of your shirt. You grasped for the hem of his and tugged it over his head in a quick motion, eager to reconnect and feel his skin against yours.

He tasted like wine and smelled like summer, yanked your panties down to your ankles and used his fingers to pull quiet gasps from you like no one had ever before. He held onto your headboard and thrusted into you after you begged: please, please fuck me.

S’probably my favorite thing to do, he said.

The lights were long off and when your heart beats settled and you wiped sweat from your forehead, he laced his fingers between yours.

“Does Jeff want to kill me?”

“No,” you giggled, turned on your side to get a better look at him. The moon through the window illuminated his nose, his eyebrows, the specks of light green in his eyes as they devoured you. “But I’m sure you’ll get a talking to.”

“Should I not talk to him about it?”

You knew what he was asking, you knew he really meant what am I supposed to tell him? What does this mean?

You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t know what he should say or how you should address any of this, because at the end of the day you were a mom and a business owner and he was eight years your junior. He had an album to finish and tour and you knew how that worked.

You watched your dad’s busy lifestyle pull his marriage apart at the seams. Late nights, dinner parties, too much coke in the 80s before you were born and all of those signs pointed in one direction: this would never last.

It couldn’t last, nothing about the equation made sense. Harry + you = fling, rebound, a hook up or friends with benefits type situation that would eventually fade into a memory when he went on tour or when he got the call: your house is finished!

You didn’t have to answer him, though, the pattering of feet in the hallway as a little voice shouted mommy! had you shoving Harry out of bed and onto the floor with a thud before CeCe could push the double doors open.

“Mommy! I had a bad dream!”

“Hi, honey, oh, it’s okay,” you were upright in bed and welcoming her into your arms when Harry grimaced in the dark.

He mouthed a few swear words as you held CeCe, squishing her face into your shoulder to keep her eyes from landing on Harry. You gestured at him wildly with your free hand, ordering him to duck down and remain unseen.

“It was just a dream,” you told her, “you’re okay. Do you want me to walk you back to bed?”

“No,” she cried out quickly. “Can I sleep here?”

You hesitated, then nodded and looked at Harry in the dark. “Of course, yes, you can fall asleep here and then I’ll bring you back to your room.”

“Okay,” she said, the steadiness of her voice returning when she crawled out of your lap and to the spot where Harry had just been. She tugged at the comforters, pushed the pillow in different directions before she let her head rest atop it.

She let out a sigh, her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and soon enough Harry poked his head up to look at you with wide eyes as you rubbed CeCe’s back.

You held up a finger to your mouth, gave him a threatening glare when he bit back a laugh. You rolled your eyes--it wasn’t funny. She almost walked in on the two of you and while she’d already endured some traumatic things this year, seeing her mom hooking up with the pop star from down the hall would be sure to take the cake.

When Harry caught your gaze again, you smirked, he giggled, clamped a hand over his mouth and watched you for a second.

“Be quiet!”

“You’re the one talking,” he laughed.

“Well she’s asleep now, but we can’t bring her back yet or she’ll wake up.”

“How long do we have to sit like this?”

“A while,” you told him with certainty. “This is called parenting.”

But he did, he sat on the floor on the side of the bed, watched you watch her and eventually, he picked her up from the mattress and followed you down the hall to her room. She softened into him, head on his shoulder and arms around his neck. The sight of it made you want to replay the earlier scene in your head over and over.

She didn’t stir, a few heavy sighs when you pulled the comforter back up to her shoulders, and once the door was shut behind you both, you smirked up at him.

“I think you should go back to your room.”

“Really? After all of that?”

“After almost getting caught by my six-year-old? Yes.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes playfully, crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, but maybe we can do that again at some point and have it end differently.”

You nodded. “I think that sounds doable.”

He leaned forward, kissed you quickly, and then turned to head for his own room. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry came home from his house tour with good and bad news. The plumbing was fixed, which sped up their timeline, and yet the painters and interior decorator had gotten behind because of it, pushing the timeline out a few weeks.

You weren’t sure which part was good and which part was bad, because by now you were having trouble imagining what your house would feel like without him in it.

You got the news when he strolled in, athletic shorts and a baseball hat on his head when Jeff clapped him on the back. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Harry eyed him suspiciously, reached into the fridge for a juice box. “I live here…”

“Oh, I know you live here.”

“Hello, hi,” you waved at Jeff. “Please do not be weird.”

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Harry offered you a fake-apologetic look.

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Jeff mocked him. “Actually, I know how to be cool and not weird about the fact that my childhood best friend and my adult best friend-slash-artist are now, you know, involved.”

Your stomach did a somersault at his wording, a quick look in Harry’s direction, sure that he would deny the accusation or play it all down.

You found it hard to believe that Harry would be in support of labeling this as anything. Why on earth would a guy like him want to be tied to you with any sort of label or phrasing or word?

“Moving on,” Harry said with a nod. “Are we down to meet up with Tom and Sam tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and we have to do that phone call on Tuesday to go over tour dates.”

Maeve ran in then, a smile on her face when she looked up at Harry. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“I learned a new chord on the guitar. By myself.”

“You did?” He acted way more excited about it than he likely was.

Jeff smiled and then told Maeve: “If you learn enough chords maybe you can be his guitarist.”

“Really?!” She beamed.

“No,” you shook your head.

“Of course you would say that.”

“Maeve--you’re a kid, you can’t go on tour.”

“She’s right,” Harry said with a sweet smile, “You’re a bit too young for life on the road.”

“I’m eleven now, though!”

“I know! And very mature for eleven,” he complimented. “I’ll tell you what. You can for sure come visit and come back stage and maybe even bring a friend if your mother lets you.”

She looked to you quickly, excitement in her eyes when they all waited for your response. “Yeah--we can go at some point...see a show or something.”

“Hayley is going to die, oh my god!” She squealed with delight and then moved to sit at a stool beside Jeff.

He had half a sandwich on a plate, one he picked up on his way over for a boring Sunday afternoon of lounging by the pool. Maeve reached for a chip from the bag in front of him.

“By the way, mom, she invited me over Wednesday after school to work on a project, so can you bring me?”

“I have to bring CeCe to dance, sweetie.”

“Well I need you to bring me to the store to get supplies for this stupid poster-board thing we have to make! And Hayley’s mom said she had a question about Luna--something about a moisturizer or something.”

“I can take CeCe to dance,” Harry shrugged, almost like an onlooker in the room. “S’not a big a deal.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeff and Maeve crunched on chips between you, watching the exchange.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll just need to put her booster seat in my car.”

“And bring her a snack for after--she’s always cranky and hungry.”

He laughed, “I can manage that.”

“What would we do without you, Harry?” Maeve asked, a smile on her face.

Jeff put his chin in his hands, teasing. “Yeah, what would we do without you?”

“No one would get anywhere, people would seriously be missing out on my chicken tacos, and this house would be a lot less fun to live in.”

Maeve nodded in agreement, another chip stolen from Jeff. “True, true, and true.”

A few nights later it dawned on you that Maeve and Harry were as close as ever, spending evenings in your dad’s old office while Maeve tried to wrap her arms around a guitar long enough to strum a few chords.

CeCe didn’t seem to feel too left out, she was more than happy to be an audience for Maeve when she’d come running into the living room: Harry taught me a G chord!

On Tuesday night after school it was CeCe’s idea to go for pizza, she chirped about it in the backseat the entire way home, and after learning that the body wash production was behind schedule, you weren’t in the mood to cook.

You took Harry’s car--showed him how to strap the booster seat in and make sure it wouldn’t budge. He wore a hat and sunglasses which both girls found hilarious, but to you it was almost disheartening. What did it mean for him to be seen out with your family?

He sat beside CeCe and cut her pizza into tiny bites so it would cool off, Maeve sipped Mountain Dew from a straw and filled you in on the latest with Hayley. This week was going well, though Hayley said something annoying in the cafeteria.

It felt normal, not weird for him to be sitting across from you, his feet against yours beneath the table and a smirk in your direction every once in a while.

Both Tristan and Zoey had been dying to hear more details. It slipped out one day in the office that okay...maybe it wasn’t just a one time thing, and now the group chat you had with them was blowing up every day.

They were excited for you, rooting for your comeback and rebound and eager for you to just admit that there was something there. But you weren’t able to do that, especially not when everything in your heart wanted to.

By the time you’d all finished eating, he dipped out the back to pull the car around front. You pointed at Maeve and told her to watch CeCe while you went up to the counter to pay for the pizza.

The woman behind the register smiled when you approached. Long acrylic nails, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes made it obvious that she could have been your mother.

“We had one large plain and one small with pepperoni,” you told her.

“Oh, you’re all set, sweetie, your boyfriend paid on his way out.”

Your head pulled back in surprise. “Oh--he’s--we’re not,”

She let out a laugh at your hesitance. “He was just as taken back when I told him he had a beautiful family--said they're not his, though."

You forced a laugh, if only to match the humor in her voice when you turned on your heels to head back to your booth. The thoughts started spinning when Maeve and CeCe climbed into the back of Harry’s car.

He smiled at you when you slid in, patted you on the thigh before he turned around to make sure both girls were settled--Maeve clicked CeCe’s buckle into place and then he put the car into gear.

Sleeping with Harry was mostly meaningless, right? He was attractive and living in your house and clearly you both got something out of it. Convenient, easy, fun. Most of your brain had you convinced that there’d never be any more to it. There was no way that Harry would be interested in sticking around: two kids, a business to run. You didn’t exactly come with no strings attached.

And he corrected the woman too--not my kids, not my family, not my wife, not my anything. Had she settled on the next step down when she called him your boyfriend, or had he offered the label to avoid an awkward encounter?

It felt immature, your heart beating with urgency as you thought about it the whole way home, beads of sweat along your hairline and not from the warm weather. He sensed it, eyed you from behind his sunglasses when he parked in the driveway. Maeve and CeCe raced to the backyard, leaving the two of you alone.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, all good,” you offered a small smile, the same response you gave to one of the girls if they caught you on a bad day.

He followed you inside, kept his eyes trained on you when you dropped your purse on the counter. “What?”

“You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” you lied again. What were you supposed to say? The woman behind the register at the pizza place is making me question the relationship we have and what it means?

You weren’t 17. You were 32. He was 24. All of these numbers swirled in your head when he took a few steps closer to you, eyes out the window quickly to make sure neither of the girls were watching you through the sliding doors.

He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, lips turned down when he looked over your face. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know,” you caught his wrist and held on for a second, like if you let go he’d disappear and take everything between the two of you with him. You closed your eyes, knew better but still said: “the woman behind the counter called you my boyfriend.”

He let out a laugh, unaware that your words were actually a confession. “She called you my wife, said the girls were cute. I told her I couldn’t take credit.”

“Yeah,” you forced another smile.

“Is that--are you, did that bother you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” he said, eyes still on you like he wasn’t quite sure where your head was at. He pressed a confusing kiss to your forehead but then said something about calling his sister. You checked work emails and night faded into morning like it always did, no matter how uncertain life was, you always had that.

The next afternoon you brought Maeve to Hayley’s, dropped her off with glue sticks and markers and a plethora of project supplies. A yoga class after that, had her home and with dinner on the stove by 6pm.

Eventually, CeCe burst through the door with a smile on her face. Her pink tutu was around her waist, her legs clad in light pink tights and her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head. “I had the greatest time at ballet!”

You turned around in the kitchen, eager to hear about her day. “You did?”

“I did,” she nodded confidently. Harry came in the front door behind her, sunglasses on his face and CeCe’s unicorn backpack in hand. Maeve was sat at the counter with a pencil, growing angrier with fractions by the minute.

“Why’s that?”

“We danced to a fun song, and we played a fun game, and everyone loved Harry!”

Your eyebrows rose at that, eyes caught his when he lifted the sunglasses. “They did?”

“Moms, not the six-year-olds.”

This caught Maeve’s attention--she sounded almost disgusted. “Moms?”

“I guess ballet pick-up is typically a mom thing?”

You shrugged. “I mean--I don’t see a lot of dads there, so yeah.”

CeCe shimmied out of her tutu and then climbed up to a stool beside Maeve. Harry walked to hang her backpack on a hook by the backdoor, you questioned if it was even worth asking.

“Were they, like, hitting on you?”

“I mean, not really.”

“Not really?”

He walked over to the island and leaned on it, the dimple in his left cheek let you know he liked the hint of jealousy in your voice. “Maybe a little.”

Dinner simmered on the stove, evening sun brought a glow to the kitchen that made his eyes even more green than usual. When you didn’t reply he broke your gaze, let out a sigh and said: “I’m going to shower before dinner, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you nodded quickly, embarrassed by the silliness of your question. Of course the moms were hitting on him, of course they were intrigued by his presence and of course they couldn’t help but say hi or even ask for a photo. It shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest.

He was up the stairs and out of sight quickly, CeCe picked up an extra pencil of Maeve’s and started doodling on her agenda book. You pushed sautéed veggies around in a frying pan and pretended that all of this was normal.

“Hey mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Harry?”

You turned around quickly, Maeve’s eyes were inquisitive but not judgmental.

“Do I like Harry? Of course--he’s nice.”

“No, I mean do you like like Harry?”

CeCe didn’t seem too interested in your answer, she hummed to herself and kicked her feet back and forth. Maeve, though, waited patiently while you tried to piece together words that wouldn’t make the roof blow off of your house.

“Harry and I are friends, sweetie.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You let out a forced laugh. “What is making you ask this?”

“You seemed jealous about the other moms.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you defended. Were you really about to get into it with your eleven-year-old? Would you really defend yourself and make this the hill on which you'd die?

She watched you for a second, looked back down at the worksheet in front of her. “You seemed jealous.”

You were thankful for the fact that she wasn’t making any eye contact now. You let out a sigh and decided that not responding was your best option. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, had it been that obvious? Was she old enough to pick up on the undertones of your relationship?

You turned back to the stove, watched the vegetables sizzle in the pan as your mind started to cave in on itself. All of this was getting out of control, right? First the woman yesterday and the dizziness that overtook you when she said the word boyfriend. Now Maeve sitting at the counter with a curiosity in her that you couldn’t really blame her for.

The doorbell rang, CeCe’s head popped up in excitement. “Who is that?!”

“I don’t know,” you said. She hopped off her stool and took off the door as you followed behind her. You hadn’t planned on a visit from Jeff, maybe Tristan needed last minute approval on a product.

But when CeCe yanked the door open with both hands and an excited smile on her face, you didn’t expect to see Luke, hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised high.

“Daddy!”

“Hi sweetie,” he knelt down on one knee, wrapped his arms around her when Maeve made a noise of excitement before rushing over. She crashed into him, pushing her way into their hug.

“What are you doing here?” she asked excitedly.

“I wanted to visit, I was in the neighborhood,” he said with a shrug, eyes glancing up to you.

It was bullshit, he’d always been good at talking his way out of things or coming up with an explanation, smile sweet and words even sweeter. He backed away from them when they let go, stood back up and smiled at you, a quick nod in greeting.

“How’ve you been?”

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ur-favorite-queer-queen · 4 years ago

Text

Internet Friends

For Maribat March day 4 theme internet friends

Master List

It was peaceful for once in the manor. Dick, Tim, Damian, Steph, Cass, and Babs were all in the living room doing their own thing. However peace cannot last forever and the silent atmosphere was interrupted by one Timothy Drake-Wayne.

“Guys come check this out!” He exclaimed, his phone facing the others in the room. They all gathered around the phone, some more annoyed than others. On screen was a video and Tim hit play.

It showed a girl with dark hair, blue eyes, and pale skin motioning for someone off screen to come over. There was music going on in the background and the girl was obviously getting impatient. The figure came on screen and they were all shocked to see it was Jason. Then at the top of the screen the words ‘Doing this trend with my overprotective best friend’ appeared and now they were very confused. Jason had never mentioned this girl before.

The music stopped and the girl repeated the lyrics “Look at my ass, look at my thighs” as she turned around. But before she could turn around Jason picked her up and carried her off screen before the video ended.

“What was that?” Dick asked after a few seconds of silence.

“It’s a trend on tik tok that girls usually do with their boyfriends, but in this case Jason and this girl are just best friends.” Steph answered.

“How does Jason even know this girl?” Dick pointed out, asking the question that was on all of their minds. Unfortunately, no one, not even Tim, knew the answer.

Cass then spoke up, “Watch more.” She grabbed Tim’s phone and played another video, however this time it was Jason holding the camera. He came over to the strange girl who looked to be baking something. She looked up at him weirdly, asking something that couldn’t be heard because of the audio playing, luckily they could read lips.

‘What are you doing?’ She asked

Jason responded with ‘Just listen.’

She turned her attention to the camera as the lyrics “That’s my best friend, that’s my best friend” played. Jason was moving to the beat and that seemed to convince the girl to also move to the beat. The song continued with more lyrics playing “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my best friend”. Then suddenly the lyrics “I just fuck her her from time to time” played and the girl whipped out her spoon and started whacking him on the head with it. She was screaming ‘LIES’ just before the video cut out.

This led to them going on a spree of watching their tik toks. Apparently this was their shared account and both of them had separate accounts they planned to look at later. An hour had passed of them just watching their tik toks before they stumbled upon an intriguing one. The caption was ‘You guys asked for it, so I’ll explain. This is going to be my side of the story.’

It showed Margot, as they had found out her name was, sitting on her bed recording herself painting her nails a blood red as she talked.

“Ok so you guys have been asking for this for a while so here it is. How I met Jason part one. And Jason will also be doing his side of the story, just so you’re aware, watch that after this. But this also takes place after the whole ‘Hawkmoth and Lila Incident’ so if you haven’t watched that storytime on my personal account, you should probably go do that.”

One look at each other and they knew they were gonna look at the story afterwards. It was getting too good to leave now.

“So a long time ago I had a venting account on Instagram. Now I had many venting accounts, all with different usernames, including Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat, all that good stuff but Instagram is where I met Jason. I posted something about how death could never stop me because I had died by the hands of an akuma before but ladybug’s cure brought me back to life. But then later on in the post I said something about how if this one boy, you all know who he is, couldn’t take a hint then I would rather let death take me than bother living in this mortal realm. Jason ended up seeing the post since we were following each other at the time and DMed me. Now he said and I quote ‘Yo, my username at the time, if you need me to come and beat this guys ass I would be more than happy too. I would gladly let death claim me as well without your shit posts to relate to.’”

She had tried to make her voice sound deeper and had stopped painting her nails so she could do air quotes. “Looking back on it now, that is such a Jason thing to say, but at the time I was pretty confused and mildly concerned. And time’s up, part two will be posted right now.”

“Wait, what the heck is an akuma and ladybug’s cure and why did she die from it!?!?!” Dick shouted once the video ended.

“Dick you don’t know what she’s talking about?” Babs asked in disbelief.

“Tt, Grayson, and I thought you were one of the smart ones in this family.” Damian scoffed.

“Does everyone here, but me, know what she's talking about?” Dick questioned, getting yes and nods from everyone in the room.

“Okay Dick,” Tim began, “This is gonna be pretty unbelievable and complicated so I’ll try to explain it as best I can in a short amount of time so we can finish her side of the story before dinner. So while I’m explaining don’t interrupt me.”

He waited for Dick to nod his head before continuing. “There are jewelry called miraculous that house mini gods that grant powers to whoever has the jewelry. Each miraculous houses a different god thus a different power. Miraculous themselves, including the gods bound to them, are neutral so they can be used for good or evil depending on who wields them.

Hawkmoth and Mayura used the butterfly and peacock miraculouses for evil purposes and were basically emotional terrorists to the people of Paris. Hawkmoth was able to send out a butterfly with magic to a person feeling negative emotions and manipulate them to do his bidding. These butterflies and villains created by the butterflies were called akumas. If you were or became an akuma you were akumatized. Mayura was able to send out a feather with magic that also used negative emotions to create a monster that aided the akuma. The feathers were called amuks and the monsters were called sentimonsters.

That was when the heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir also came along and fought Hawkmoth. Ladybug had the ladybug miraculous which granted her the power of lucky charm and miraculous ladybug. Lucky charm gave her an item needed to defeat the akuma and miraculous ladybug reversed all the damage a fight caused. She also had the task of purifying the akuma, turning it back into a butterfly. Chat Noir had the black cat miraculous which granted the power of cataclysm, which made it so he could destroy anything he touched. The 2 worked as a team for around a year before they brought in other temporary heroes who are not that important. Eventually all their temp heroes’ identities were outed and they could no longer use them so they were back to square one.

However many people noticed that Chat Noir was not taking his job as seriously, he began sitting out battles, flirting with ladybug while there was an akuma, and even getting civilians killed, relying too heavily on ladybug’s cure. We’re not exactly sure what happened, we assumed she snapped because one akuma attack Chat Noir was not there. Instead, there was a whole new team of miraculous wielders including Murder Hornet wielder of the bee miraculous who had the power venom which let her temporarily paralize her opponent, Red Illusion wielder of the fox miraculous who had the power mirage which let him create illusions, Peridot Protector wielder of the turtle miraculous who had the power shelter which allowed him to create indestructible shields, Medusa wielder of the snake miraculous who had the power second chance which allowed her to reset the time line as many times as needed to win the battle, Mustang wielder of the horse miraculous who had the power voyage which let him create portals, and a new black cat holder, Midnight.

The team took 6 months to defeat Hawkmoth and Mayura, who turned out to be Gabriel Agreste and Natalie Sancour. The Justice League tried to recruit them but they all wanted to live normal lives. Ladybug still checks in every 3-6 months to reassure everyone she still has all the miraculous. I don’t blame them, especially Ladybug, for wanting a normal life. This whole thing started when they were around 13 and ended when they were around 17.”

Tim then clicked on part two of her story, not even waiting for Dick to recover from the huge information dump.

It was the exact same place she was at in part one, and she was still painting her nails the same shade of blood red. “Okay guys part two of how Jason and I met. If you didn’t watch part one go watch then return to this one. So picking up where we left off I Dmed him back and we ended up having a very long conversation about murder, people not understanding the word no, and spineless cowards. This went on for quite a while of us just messaging each other and eventually we gave each other our emails and then phone numbers. I gave him my phone number just before I moved out of Paris. After like 6 months of texting we planned to meet up at some park in New York that was near the apartment I lived at at the time. Now in hindsight that was a very dumb move on my part so to all the kids watching don’t go meeting up with strangers you meet on the internet. Do as I say not as I did. I almost regretted my decision to meet up with him because he is intimidating as hell! He’s like over 6 foot tall, with muscles the size of my head! I honestly thought that I had put myself in a very bad situation but thankfully he was just as nice in real life like he was over text. We ended up hanging out a lot more and long story short we’re best friends!”

It was at this point that she looked directly into the camera with a glare that could rival Batman’s, stating, “Literally just best friends to all the people who think shipping us is okay!” And just like that, it was gone, “Anyways see you guys next video, bye!”

And with that the video ended and the Wayne children, minus Jason obviously, were left wondering how they missed the fact Jason had a female best friend. One where they declared their friendship on the internet nonetheless!

“Well that was certainly something.” Steph commented.

“Yeah, who knew Jason could have a non hero friend that we didn’t know about.” Tim joked.

“So are we gonna watch Jason’s part?” Dick asked.

“I don’t think we have time for that, but we can watch it after dinner.” Tim suggested, “Alfred is probably on his way to get us right now.”

“Tt, what do we do now?” Damian questioned.

It was then that Cass stole Tim’s phone and started to play a new tik tok. And it showed Margot trying to teach Jason how to do the WAP dance. They were never letting him hear the end of this.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am literally so sorry for that huge information dump with the miraculous. I did not expect to get that carried away while writing and by the time I realized it, it was too late and I had to post. Honestly because of how much I wrote I will probably use the miraculous holders names in a future fic, cause I’m lazy. :P Also if you wanna guess their identities feel free to! Anyways tomorrows prompt fic thing will be like a prequel for this one, it’s basically why Marinette now goes by Margot and why she lived/lives in New York. The prompt “Betrayal" will be connected to this as well. :) Also sorry this was posted so late, I had things to do, that I still need to do...I hate procrastination

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #maribat march #internet friends #platonic jasonette #tik tok

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ebaeschnbliah · 4 years ago

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SHERLOCK’S WEBSITE

‘Reading the document is the same as seeing the author’

This says a Chinese proverb (X). What does it mean then, when John tells Sherlock in A Scandal in Belgravia: ‘nobody is reading your website’?

SHERLOCK: I have a website. JOHN: In which you enumerate two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. Nobody’s reading your website.

Some more musings about Sherlock’s website ‘The Science of Deduction’ and its content below the cut ...

Just a little while later in the same episode - while he writes aboout the unsolved plane crash case in Düsseldorf ... ‘Sherlock Holmes baffled’ - John describes his own blog as Sherlock’s ‘living’.

JOHN: Look at that. One thousand, eight hundred and ninety-five. SHERLOCK: Sorry, what? JOHN: I re-set that counter last night. This blog has had nearly two thousand hits in the last eight hours. This is your living, Sherlock – not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. SHERLOCK: Two hundred and forty-three.

‘This is your living’ is basically the same as ‘this is your life’. This is YOU. The way John describes Sherlock on his own blog, shapes how the public eye views the great detective. The same way as Dr Watson did in canon in his stories for The Strand. This fact becomes even more clear during the greenhouse scene in TAB. Although Dr Watson is aware that he doesn’t tell the truth about Holmes, he doesn’t change his stories about him either.

HOLMES: .... as I have often explained before, all emotion is abhorrent to me. It is the grit in a sensitive instrument ... the crack in the lens. WATSON: Yes. HOLMES: Well, there you are, you see? I’ve said it all before. WATSON: No, I wrote all that. You’re quoting yourself from The Strand Magazine. HOLMES: Well, exactly. WATSON: No, those are my words, not yours! That is the version of you that I present to the public: the brain without a heart; the calculating machine. I write all of that, Holmes, and the readers lap it up, but I do not believe it.

If John’s statement ‘my blog is your living’ can be translated into ‘my blog is your life’ - my blog is YOU - what then can be said about John’s other comment, regarding Sherlock’s website ‘The Science of Deduction’, when he tells Sherlock: ‘nobody’s reading your website’? If the document, the blog, the website reflects the personality of the writer, the author and when nobody is reading Sherlock’s website because nobody is interested in its content ... doesn’t this translate into: 'nobody’s interested in who you really are’? I assume one can indeed read it that way, because the plot confirms such a translation as well.

Oh, don’t worry. I know who you really are. I’m never off your website. (THOB, Dr Frankland)

If Dr Frankland knows who Sherlock really is, just by looking at his website - at Sherlock, the author - maybe it would be a good idea to take a look as well. ... the same way Sherlock advices Kitty Riley in TRF: ‘Well, look at ME and tell me what you see ... you can just read what you need’.

First of all, I’m not going to use the external internet website created for Sherlock BBC in this post. @possiblyimbiassed did already a detailed and very interesting analysis of it in ‘The Science of Reduction’. In the comments of that post I tried to exlpain the reasons for my doubts as to whether those external informations - as fascinating and tempting as they are - could lead to a solution for the story told on TV. Anyway, in this post I’m going to look at Sherlock’s website just as it is presented on screen. But what can be deduced about The Sciene of Deduction by using solely informations from TV? There’s not much to go on, one might say ... and as I’m no Sherlock Holmes either, I will most likely ‘miss almost everything of importance’, like John did with Carl’s shoes. But looking at Sherlock, the author, is definitely worth a try ... :))))

The Science of Deduction

Sherlock’s website ‘The Science of Deduction’ can be seen already in the Unaired PILOT when he is about to answer requests from various people. The very first message he is just writing, is directed at his brother Mycroft who apparently contacted him in a somewhat ... ‘impossible situation’. Sherlock’s answer is a quote from canon, probably the most well known and often used statement of the great detective ... in canon as well as in many adaptations:

Eliminate all other factors, and the one which remains must be the truth. (The Sign of the Four)

How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth? (The Sign of the Four)

It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. (The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet)

We must fall back upon the old axiom that when all other contingencies fail, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. (Adventure of the Bruce Partington Plans)

When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. (Adventure of the Blanched Soldier)

Five more requests wait for Sherlock’s attention. His Inbox is indeed well filled ... at least six possible cases ...

Sherlock answers Gregson’s request about a ‘Church bell theft’. This done, he is clearly pleased about DI Lestrade’s not very informative message ‘Please call me’. When he is about to answer Jones request about ‘Samson and Del’, Mike Stamford and John Watson enter the room and Sherlock stops working through his Inbox.

The next day Sherlock and John meet for the first time at Baker Street 221b. John mentions that he’d found Sherlock’s website the night prior but contrary to Sherlock’s big expectations, John isn’t much impressed (unlike Jeff Hope who thinks Sherlock’s Science of Deduction is brilliant). This scene happens in both versions - PILOT and ASIP - almost identically.

JOHN: Oh, I, um, looked you up on the internet last night. SHERLOCK: Anything interesting? JOHN: Found your website, The Science of Deduction. SHERLOCK: What did you think? JOHN: Quite amusing, I suppose. SHERLOCK: “Amusing”? JOHN: You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and – what was it? – a retired plumber by his left hand. SHERLOCK: Yes; and I can read your military career by your face and your leg, and your brother’s drinking habits by your mobile phone. JOHN: How? SHERLOCK: You read the article. JOHN: The article was absurd. SHERLOCK: But I know about his drinking habits. I even know that he left his wife.

Sherlock BBC, PILOT

One of the small and also strange differences between the two versions is the ‘identification’ text line from Sherlock’s website, quoted by John. In PILOT Sherlock refers to a plumber and his left hand and in ASIP to an airline pilot and his left thumb. “It is, of course, a trifle, but there is nothing so important as trifles” tells Holmes in The Man with the Twisted Lip and “It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important” in A Case of Identity. A lot of such little, seemingly unnecessary modifications and inconsistencies can be found throughout this adaptation. Maybe they are indeed there for a reason?

JOHN: I looked you up on the internet last night. SHERLOCK: Anything interesting? JOHN: Found your website, The Science of Deduction. SHERLOCK: What did you think? JOHN: You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb. SHERLOCK: Yes; and I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother’s drinking habits in your mobile phone. JOHN: How?

Sherlock BBC, ASIP

Why had the profession to be changed from plumber to airline pilot and the body part from hand to thumb, one wonders? Unless it’s because plumbers have to do with water and work down to earth or even underground. They install pipes/tubes or mend broken ones. By the way, in german language the phrase ‘install a pipe’ (ein Rohr verlegen) has the same meaning as the english ‘put up shelves’. Airline pilots on the other hand often tend to be situated high up above the clouds. Well, this sort of topic runs like a red thread throuout the whole story. And that strange change of profession isn’t the only ‘small’ modification from PILOT to ASIP either.

(Strange little changes Plumber musings)

Also interesting ... there are no visuals of Sherlock’s website in the official episodes ASIP and TBB. Only in the following episode, TGG, the viewer is able to take a first ‘official’ look at The Science of Deductions, when Sherlock writes his messages to the bomber. The look of his website has changed completely.

The Great Game: the first entry in the Forum is about Carl Powers shoes and botulinum toxin ... that’s the reason for food poisoning. (Under the microscope)

Next time the website can be seen, is after Sherlock solved the second case and sends his congratulations regarding Ian Monford’s relocation to Columbia ...

And a third time when Sherlock has solved the murder of Conny Prince ...

There is no picture of Sherlock’s website connected to the fake Vermeer painting because this time Sherlock sends the solution not on his laptop but uses the pink phone dublicate instead (Yes, besides 2 Johns, 2 Faiths, 2 Charles, 2 serial killers, 2 empty houses, 2 flights of the dead, various pairs, doubles, twins ... etc, etc ... there are also 2 pink phones present in Sherlock BBC). Anyway, the Science of Deduction can be seen again when Sherlock suggests a meeting with the bomber at the same pool, where once little Carl died, to hand over the stolen missile defence plans ...

There’s no picture of Sherlock’s website in ASIB. The Science of Deduction turns up only in the two short but very interesting pieces of dialogue between John and Sherlock with which I started this post.

John utters the opinion that their clients come to Baker Street just because of his blog. Sherlock reminds him that he too has a website. John then mockingly mentions Sherlock’s analysis of 240 different types of tobacco ash on said website and adds ‘nobody is reading your website’. Sherlock is clearly offended and corrects the number of tobacco ashes from 240 to 243. Some time later John raises the tobacco-ash topic once more, proudly refers to his own blog - and the 1895 hits on it - and tells Sherlock ‘this is your living’.

The next visual presentation of the website can be seen in THOB, when Sherlock shows John the Inbox message of little Kirsty about her vanished, luminous rabbit Bluebell ...

In the same episode Sherlock tells Mrs Hudson that a ‘little blog on the identification of perfumes’ can be found on his website. It turns out that Sherlock hasn’t only extensive knowledge regarding ash, he also knows a lot about perfumes. (Perfumes in Sherlock BBC by @gosherlocked )

The HOUND-episode is also the one in which Dr Frankland tells Sherlock: ’I know who you really are. I’m never off your website’. The Baskerville scientist knows John’s blog as well and is a bit confused that Sherlock isn’t wearing the deerstalker hat, as shown there.

The Science of Deductions turns up next in TRF, in an newspaper article about the recovery of Turner’s masterpiece, the ‘Falls of the Reichenbach’, that Sherlock was able to recover (last line on the left column).

Sherlock’s website is mentioned a last time in TSOT. Not on Sherlock’s laptop but on John’s phone. Mary suggests that John should go on a case with Sherlock. John opens The Science of Deduction on his own phone and asks Sherlock to pick a case from his already ‘bursting Inbox’. Sherlock chooses The Bloody Guardsman. Sadly it’s impossible to get a clear shot of the small mobile-screen. (John’s blog stops at TSOT by @gosherlocked)

THE LOOK

Blue is the main colour Sherlock has chosen for his website ... shades of different blue ... a dark midnight blue and the skyline of a city by night can be dimly seen in the background and - a little bit clearer - on both sides.

As Sherlock Holmes is one of London’s most popular characters, it’s easy to assume that the skyline used for his website is that of GBs capital. With this in mind, the water in the bottom right corner, that can be seen rather good on the first pic above, should be the Thames and the shallow arch above it, most likely one of its many bridges. On the opposite site, in the upper left corner, next to the small, pale tower and right behind the ‘The’ of the website’s headline, the vast vault of Saint Paul’s Cathedral can be dimly seen (the view is better on a TV screen).

If one connects the images of river and bridge on the left with St Paul’s on the right, I guess the background of Sherlock’s website could be a panorama photo similar to the one below. That’s a view from the Southbank of the Thames with Blackfriars Bridge in the foreground. And this location does play a role in the story ....

Blackfriars Bridge is located between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo Bridge. The name derives from Black Freres ... the French 'frère' meaning 'brother'. This referes to the black habits of the Dominican monks. A monk is also called a brother, a nun is also called a sister and the opposite of a ‘black brother’ would be a (ghostly) ‘white sister’. Just saying. :)

(The Roads we walk Vatican Cameos A Christmas Tale)

As mentioned above, this particular cityscape plays a role in Sherlock BBC. It’s a crime scene from TGG.

SHERLOCK: View of the Thames. South Bank – somewhere between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo.

At this place, Alex Woodbridge was found, the security guard and hobby stargazer, killed by the Golem, in the Vermeer case ... the same case which doesn’t turn up in the messages on Sherlock’s website because he uses the pink phone and conveys the solution verbally. Viewed metaphorically ... he speaks through the heart.

Blue is the colour of the sky ... high up, where the aeroplanes fly. Blue is also the colour of the water, deep down below ... where powerful emotions run freely and London is Sherlock’s city. The country, the city, the houses, even cars are closely linked to the famous detective. They seem to represent his ‘body’.

Just put me back in London. I need to get to know the place again, breathe it in – feel every quiver of its beating heart. (Sherlock, TEH)

Brother Mycroft IS government and ‘queen’ at the same time. There are all kinds of networks above and below ground and steam trains run behind fake facades. Saint Paul’s Cathedral and the river Thames are often special eye-catcher. The coat of arms ... with dragon, lion and Saint George’s cross ... make their appearance as well as the great fire of London in 1666, the Isle of Dogs and the Greenwich pips. ‘Transport’ goes from standstill to movement ....

666-The number of the beast Every quiver of his beating heart Saint Paul’s Cathedral Still at the centre of the web From standstill to movement

WEBSITE ... A SITE FOR THE WEB

Sherlock has a website .... John has a blog. Why the difference? Both men, Sherlock and John, are given strongly internet-related nicknames ... Hat-man and Robin:The web detectives ... Sherlock & John: Blogger Detectives. Sherlock is also called ‘Net Tec’ and ‘net phenomenon’. What’s the difference between Blog and Website:

BLOG: The word ‘blog’ is short for ‘weblog’ (web=net + log=logbook), jokingly broken into the phrase ‘we blog’. A blog is a discussion or informational website published on the World Wide Web consisting of discrete, often informal diary-style text entries. Posts are typically displayed in reverse chronological order, so that the most recent post appears first, at the top of the web page. 'Blog' and 'blogging' are now loosely used for content creation and sharing on social media, especially when the content is long-form and one creates and shares content on regular basis. (X)

WEBSITE: The word website consists of web=net + site=place. Literally web-site means ‘a place in the net’. A website can be used in various fashions: a personal website, a corporate website for a company, a government website, an organization website, etc. Websites can be the work of an individual, a business or other organization, and are typically dedicated to a particular topic or purpose. All publicly accessible websites collectively constitute the World Wide Web. (X)

Of course, the word ‘web’ immediately reminds me of Jim Moriarty. The spider at the centre of a criminal web, woven with thousands of threads and Jim knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances. Sherlock is going to monitor the underworld in order to notice every quiver of that web, so he will notice when the spider makes his move.

As mentioned above, all kinds of networks - above and below ground - play a major role in Sherlock BBC. There are Mycroft’s people, his agents and spies. There are terrorists who threaten London with a massive attack. General Shan has a vast network with thousands of operatives and Sherlock calls it ‘a cult’. A surveillance web is closing in on Baker Street, their attention focussed on Sherlock. An Underground network as well as an underground network runs below the surface of the big city. A secret cult of revenging birdes meets in the crypt of a desanctified church. Sherlock is convinced that the ‘world is woven from billions of lives, every strand crossing every other. What we call premonition is just movement of the web. If you could attenuate to every strand of quivering data, the future would be entirely calculable, as inevitable as mathematics’. So many threads - linked and interwoven - they create a web, a net .... a web-net. Basically, that’s exactly how brains work as well. Every brain is a very vast and highly functional biological network ... and Sherlock’s is faster than most ‘... still catching up with my brain. It’s terribly fast’.

Recent models in modern neuroscience treat the brain as a biological computer, very different in mechanism from an electronic computer, but similar in the sense that it acquires information from the surrounding world, stores it, and processes it in a variety of ways. Neurons typically communicate with one another by means of long fibers, which carry trains of signal pulses to distant parts of the brain or body. (X)

And then there's also Sherlock’s ‘own’ network ... the ‘homeless network’ it is called. According to Sherlock, it is ‘indispensible and faster than the police’. Those group of people is based on the Baker Street Irregulars from canon. There, in Victorian London, they are street boys, sometimes employed by Holmes to run errands for him. Holmes speaks of them as ‘division of the detecitve police force’. Dr Watson describes them as ‘little scoundrels’ and ‘half a dozen of the dirtiest and most ragged street Arabs that ever I clapped eyes on’.

While the idea of homeless people who sometimes assist Sherlock in his cases is taken from canon, the name - homeless network - is not. Names are always important in this story. So basically, what is a homless network? It is a network that has no home. At times it is usefull for Sherlock and he pays them for their help. In a way this reminds me of Eurus. She says abut herself: 'to remember everything one just needs a big enough hard drive’. Her intellectual abilities are also of occasional use for the government. In return she requires treats. Similar to Sherlock’s homeless network, Eurus has no home either. She lost it long ago in her childhood days. Sherlock has a website ... a site, a place in the web ... but only very few people are interested in it. Actually just Jeff Hope and Dr Frankland as it seems. Sherlock has a homless network ... a network without a home.

The women of the ‘cult’ from TAB first gave me the idea that all those dangerous groups ... agents, spies, terrorists and the various networks ... could actually be metaphors for something that happens inside Sherlock’s mind. That all those groups represent the awakening of emotional stirrings ... desires, fears, impulses ... that haunt the great detective. There seem to be aspects of Sherlock’s personality which he views as rightous criminal and puts them behind padded walls or elephant glass. Others are just annoying and distracting. Some he ignores most of the time because he considers them to be irrelevant for his system. Some have no home, although they turn out to be usefull now and then. Then something unexpected happens ... something new is coming ... and this marks the beginning of a change of perception in Sherlock Holmes, maybe a revolution.

The reptile in 221b Underground networks AGRA-Under the sign of four Eurus, the emotional memory & The cold war by @raggedyblue

FOUR MESSAGES and a GAP

Four messages can be read on Sherlock’s website. All of them are from TGG, related to four of the five cases, written by Sherlock and directed at ‘the bomber’. As it turns out at the end of the episode, this person is none other than Jim Moriarty, the spider in the centre of the web.

FOUND. Pair of trainers belonging to Carl Powers (1978-1989). Botulinum toxin still present. Apply 221b Baker St.

Congratulations to Ian Monkford on his relocation to Columbia.

Raoul de Santos, the house-boy, botox.

xxx

Found. The Bruce-Partington plans. Please collect. The Pool. Midnight.

Only one of the cold cases is not mentioned on Sherlock’s website, because Sherlock uses the pink phone duplicate, sent to him by the bomber in a strong box at the beginning of the ‘great game’, to submit his message. Sometimes it is useful to ‘mind the gap’ as Sherlock says. Sometimes that, what is left out, is just as important as that, what is there. The ‘gap-case’ is the one about the fake Vermeer painting, whose forgery was first noticed by security guard and hobby stargazer Alex Woodbridge, murdered because of it by the Golem. His body was found at the Southbank of the Thames near Blackfriars Bridge ... the same location Sherlock uses as background for his website. Sherlock discovers and proves the truth due to the display of an impossible supernova on the painting.

A picture pretends to show a scene from the past, but the massive explosion painted on it reveals, that the picture has actually been created much more recently. That massive explosion had never happened in the past.

The bomber’s hostage in the Vermeer case is a kid who is never shown on screen. The little boy transmittes a countdown from 10 to 1, that mirrors Sherlock’s own countdown in TFP (Countdown) while the boy’s plea for help mirrors that of the girl on the plane and also that of Victor Trevor, the boy in the well near Musgrave Hall. Victor Trevor and Musgrave Hall represent two canon stories - The Adventure of the Gloria Scott and The Musgrave Ritual - both set in Sherlock Holmes’ university time, long before he met Dr Watson. Both cases lead back to a time ‘where Sherlock began’.

(Why Victor Trevor was turned into a child by @sagestreet)

THE HOUND & THE GUARDSMEN

Little Kirsty Stapleton’s cry for help in THOB to ‘please, please, please’ find Bluebell, her vanished, luminous rabbit, marks the beginning of the HOUND case. Chemistry, triggered by the pressure of feet, fills the air and drives everyone exposed to it, crazy. Love is in the air .... At the end Jim Moriarty (Mr Sex) walks free, released from his cell by Mycroft Holmes himself ...

Private Stephen Bainbridge’s request in TSOT, regarding a mysterious stalker, marks the beginning of the GUARDSMEN case. Jonathan Small (literally: Jonny Little), a brilliant, ruthless monomaniac (who strongly reminds me of Jim Moriarty), stabbs guardians/facades with a ‘meat dagger’. At the end Mary Watson is pregnant ... ‘stabbed’ by ‘Johnny boy’ (Hamish=James) Watson ... the HOUND hidden behind the facade of the facade .... Matroshka ‘poppets’ indeed.

“Mary – lots of love ... poppet ... oodles of love and heaps of good wishes from CAM.” (Telegram from Magnussen, keeper of the deepest and darkest secrets and scandals,TSOT)

THE BLUEBELL COMPANIONS

Alongside little Kirsty’s message about Bluebell there appear two more requests on the Inbox page of Sherlock’s website (they can be easily read on TV screen). In films neiter images and certainly not texts appear on screen out of coincidence. Pictures are there for certain reasons, even if it’s just for the purpose of a fitting decoration. Texts on the other hand are much more specific. Someone must have had the idea to put it there and someone had to create the image. Especially the makers of Sherlock BBC have repeatedly mentioned that everything that appears on screen has its meaning. With this in mind, what can be deduced about those two earlier requests in Sherlock’s Inbox?

1- Please help victims of China earthquake. It costs just 5p.

China - right from the beginning a certain ‘easterly’ theme appears and runs from there throughout the whole story like a red ribbon until the moment the Eastwind finally approaches in the shape of Eurus. In a metaphorical reading I connect the East to emotions and memory.

An earthquake is a sudden outburst of held back and bottled-up energie. When the pressure gets too high it results in a violent release of that energy. Explosions .... rocks crack, the earth shakes. Earthquakes can trigger landslides, volcanic activity or cause a tsunami. Major changes are also often referred to as ‘earthquakes’.

Costs of 5p ... A penny (p) is a coin and a unit of the britisch pound (£), the official currency in the UK (a currency Sherlock doesn’t know how to spend?). 5p is money. The saying goes that time is money. A minute is a unit of time. Viewing it in reversed order ... money is time = 5 penny are 5 minutes. ‘It took her (Eurus) just five minutes to do all of this to us.’

Reading it that way, a possible translation of the first request in Sherlock’s Inbox could be: “Please help victims of emotional upheaval. It takes just 5 minutes.” :)

2- Re. Mudchute Query

Mudchute is a railway station situated in the Millwall area on the Isle of Dogs. The name Millwall has its source in the large number of windmills built on the river wall in the 19th century. They were needed to ground corn and wheat into flour that was brought along the Thames. The original station was located on an old Victorian railway line that had been disused for many years. An elevated station opened 1987. When the line was extended under the Thames, the station was rebuilt close to the tunnel entrance. It opened 1999 and was finally completed 2009. The station was originally intended to be named Millwall Park but then renamed in Mudchute, refering to the engineering overspill when Millwall Dock was being created in the 1840s. (X)

Basically ... the second request in Sherlock’s Inbox is about a query regarding a railway station, built in the Victorian area at a place linked to mills (♪ Remember the maid ... the maid of the mill ...♪, TAB), disused for years, rebuilt and elevated, named, renamed ... until it was completed in 2009, the same year the Unaired Pilot was created. Well .... that sounds a bit ... familiar?

PERFUME AND TOBACCO ASHES

Appart from Sherlock’s cold case messages addressed to Jim Moriarty and two requests from - Kirsty Stapleton and Stephen Bainbridge - there are only two other entries on The Science of Deduction ... Sherlock’s own analysis about perfumes and tobacco ashes. Basically that’s about ... scent/smell and fire residues.

SCENT: From Kasbah Nights to Claire de la Lune, perfumes play a significant role in this story and Sherlock is a true expert in smellig and recognizing the different brands. The first thing that comes to mind, related to the word ‘scent’ is a dog - more precisely a scent dog. One of the most prominent representatives of that breed is the Bloodhound. And it is well known that Sherlock Holmes is indeed compared to a blood hound in ACDs The Sign of Four. That same quote has been adopted in TEH (Sherlock the Bloodhound), it appears on John’s Blog and is read by Mary. But in Sherlock BBC the bloodhound isn’t only linked to Sherlock himself. The HOUND is also connected to John Watson, Jim Moriarty, Victor Trevor, Eurus and Redbeard the Irish Setter, also a scent dog.

(The dogs in Sherlock’s mind palace The bloodhound in his hands Transformation of Redbeard and the ‘Follow the dog’ series by @sagestreet)

FIRE RESIDUES: Sherlock has an extensive knowledge regarding tobacco ashes. This characteristic has also been taken from canon.

I have made a special study of cigar ashes—in fact, I have written a monograph upon the subject. I flatter myself that I can distinguish at a glance the ash of any known brand, either of cigar or of tobacco. (ACD, A Study in Scarlet)

In TSOT drunken Sherlock proclaims loudly ‘Ash! I know ash!’ Almost the same words (‘I know human ash’) uses the guy from ASIB, whose aunt had been among the plane crash victims in Düsseldorf (’Sherlock Holmes baffled’). In the same episode Sherlock steals an ashtray from Buckingham Palace. In TEH Sherlock’s return from hiatus is underlined with at least half a dozen scetches of phoenixes, rising from the ashes, at the walls of the Landmark Restaurant. Another bird that has great resemblance with a phoenix can be found on Brenda’s gravestone at Musgrave Hall (Among the funny gravestones).

Ash is the residue of a fire damage. Fire and burning is one of the main themes in Sherlock BBC. From Jim’s threat to burn Sherlock’s heart out to the gingerbread man burned to a crisp, from John’s Guy Fawkes bonfire to Sherlock’s admission ‘I’m burning up’, from the Baker Street living room in flames to the great fire at Musgrave Hall ... not to mention all the exploding or not quite expoding bombs throughout the show ... fire anf burning is never far away in this story.

(Love is a burning thing A case ablaze Set this house on fire by @gosherlocked)

TOBACCO ASHES ... CHEMISTRY BURNED

Tobacco s the common name for plants belonging to the Nicotiana family. It contains the highly addictive stimulant nicotine. The dried leaves of the plant are mainly used for smoking in cigars, cigarettes, pipes, etc ... Nicotine is a widely used legal drug. The burning of tobacco results in smoke and the residue left behind is ash. Sherlock knows ash. Interestingly and unlike to canon, in this modern adaptation Sherlock doesn’t simply know ‘any known brand of cigar or tobacco ash’, he has analysed exactly 243 different types of those ashes and he explicitly corrects the number 240, cited by John. Is this seemingly unimportant correction just there to emphasise Sherlock’s annoyance over John’s mockery or is maybe another meaning hidden behind that corrected number?

243 ... ‘This is your living, Sherlock – not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash’ - ‘243!′

243 different types of tobacco ash are not Sherlock’s living. 243 different, tobacco products - burnt to ashes - are not Sherlock’s life.

As mentioned above, tobacco contains nicotine and nicotine is a drug. Viewing Sherlock BBC on a metaphorical level ... all drugs are chemistry and chemistry is love. The chemistry of love, burnt to ashes ... 243 times over. Hmmmm .... Then an idea hit me and I asked Google a question:

This answer is from January 2020. The first official series of Sherlock BBC aired 2010 and the Unaired Pilot has been produced in 2009. I seem to recall that the first and the second series have been accepted by the BBC at the same time and since 2009 several more Sherlock Holmes adaptations have seen the light of day (Guy Ritchie Holmes, Elementary, New Russian Holmes, Miss Sherlock, Mr Holmes, Sherlock Gnomes, Holmes&Watson, Enola Holmes ... to name just a few).

Could it be that the number of different tobacco ashes, analysed by Sherlock, mirrors the number of different adaptations about the famous detective? Sherlock Holmes ... reborn again and again with each adaptation, like a phoenix from the ashes, and yet he was never able to live a full life ... including emotions, love and sex?

‘All lives end. All hearts are broken’, that’s what Mycroft tells Sherlock in ASIB. Chemistry burned to ashes in an endless row. ‘So many days not lived, so many words unsaid’ ... says Eurus in TFP and referes to the coffin whose lid is adorned with a brass plate, I LOVE YOU, written on it (A coffin for love). You are absolutely right @loveismyrevolution with your idea of Sherlock standing between two ‘angels’ in that scene, although I would rather call them ‘choices’. Because this scene has great resemblance with the three solutions/choices Sherlock has to choose from after the event on Barth’s roof (Solutions or choices).

At that time Sherlock is confronted with two elemental forces ... love and sex. The one is represented by Molly (mirror for John) and the other one by Jim Moriarty, Mr Sex. Sherlock chooses neither one of the two. He backs away and walks a third path. He decides to live a celibate life - married to work - solely dedicated to reason and intellect, represented by Mycroft. That’s why he needs to create a strong facade to hide his true feelings for John. But then, unexpected and without noticing it at first (delayed action stabbing), even this facade gets ‘penetrated’ by John. Love (Rosie) is conceived and this changes everything. (Changing of the guard)

After the first shock (shot), Sherlock starts to go deeper into himself than ever before. He repeats the investigations about himself (the pink case) from a different perspective. Everything that happens in S4 reflects, in one way or another, occurances from S1-S3 ... arranged differently and some new actors are added. For example: the morgue-scene in TLD is a mirror of Sherlock’s fall in TRF ... it’s another Reichenbach. Eurus’ five tasks of Sherrinford seem to be a sort of ‘final distillate’ of Sherlock’s repeated analysis. In the coffin-scene Sherlock is once more confronted with a choice. This time though SEX is excluded. Sherlock has to choose between LOVE or BRAIN. And just as he did after the ‘first’ Reichenbach, Sherlock tries again to back away. At that stage though Eurus doesn’t let him. Sherlock’s emotions force him to go back to the very beginning, to find the truth. What that truth is and what consequences will come from it .... is still untold in this story, as I read it. There’s a final distillation but not a final solution at the end of S4.

“This is your living, Sherlock ... not 243 different types of tobacco ash”

... says John, refering to his own Blog. But is this really the truth? The counter on John’s Blog stops at 1895 in ASIB and the text entry, read by Mary in TEH, is a quote from canon. Already in the first series, in TBB, Sherlock asks John - his blogger/biographer - to pass him the pen and near the end of S4, in TLD, John’s Blog has ‘gone a bit downhill’ and people actually think it's Sherlock’s Blog. This leaves the question: is Sherlock taking over the narrative of his own story now? What kind of story will it be? How will it end? Will Sherlock have to make a third choice in the future? A choice between Dr Watson, the ‘fixed point in a changing age’ and John Watson, who could be so much more than just an ‘eternal’ friend? After all, there are two Faiths in the story, two serial killers and Hamish (Jim, Mr Sex) hides right in the middle of John (H) Watson ... at the very centre of the web, one might say.

Two times John Pairs-Twins-DoubleOHs Double OH seven Bond Air is go The big question and an excellent explanation of the idea about ‘Two-John’s’ in the comments on this post by @lukessense

Will Sherlock BBC turn out to be one more adaptation that ends as a ‘missed oportunity’ ... one more chemistry burned to ashes .... another sample of tobacco ash for Sherlock to analyse and add to his list? Or will it be different this time? Something new ... something big? Will it be the story about the emotional and sexual awakening of the literary character Sherlock Holmes?

Only the future will tell ....

Thanks for reading and thanks @callie-ariane for the scripts.

February, 2021

#sherlock bbc #the science of deduction #sherlock's website #reading the document is seeing the author #nobody is reading your website #nobody is interested in who you really are #this is your living #this is your life #messages #inbox #analyses #tobacco #perfume

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giuliafc · 3 years ago

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Ladybug's Catalyst - Ladynoir July/July Snippet day 1 (Catalyst/Older)

Read it on Ao3 || Read it on FFN

As much as Ladybug had always tried to deny it, in the 4 years they had fought Hawkmoth and his akumas, the only time that Ladybug could focus so sharply and defeat an akuma in just seconds like today, were always when he had died for her. He was her rock, her support, and most importantly, he was her catalyst.

Wordcount: 999 words

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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Written for the "Snippet July" challenge of the Miraculous Fanworks @miraculousfanworks Discord server. Day 1 — Catalyst. Also, tried to age it up and make it older, so it would fit prompt 1 for the Ladynoir July @ladynoirjuly but… I don't know if I achieved that one. Let me know what you think!

Ladybug screamed. Again. Once again, he had taken the hit for her. Once again, he had died in front of her very eyes. Once again, she could only watch helplessly as he fell into the river of boiling lava.

"You will get me back, M'lady," he had said, his lips still curled into a smile as his body was wrapped by the fire and disappeared. Ladybug just screamed. The akuma in the distance laughing without a sound of regret.

How dare it laugh? How. Fucking. Dare. It. Laugh? LAUGH? As her chaton was burned away by lava?

Ladybug closed her eyes, clenching her fists as she pursed her trembling lips. Her small frame shook with the biggest adrenaline rush she had ever experienced.

The akuma laughed again. Ladybug's eyes opened wide, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her fists shook at her sides, and a growing sense of oppression built into her chest. Without waiting another second, she turned on her heel, killer bluebell eyes glaring at Hawkmoth's latest victim.

"Your stupid partner has perished, Ladybug," said the villain with a smirk. "But don't you worry. No need to cry. You will join him very soon!"

A deep growl erupted from her lungs. "You won't insult Chat Noir, or it will be the last thing you do!" She didn't care any more whether the akuma was a victim or not. She had lost her ethicality and her feelings for the 'poor unfortunate souls that got abused by Hawkmoth' the second his partner had been burned alive. She lost all restraints, all self induced obstacles... and plunged forward.

***

Rena Rouge stared at the scene unfolding in front of her. A devilish looking Ladybug attacked the akuma like a single-handed storm of fighters. In less than three minutes, she was holding it by its neck, breaking the akumatised object and freeing the butterfly.

"I hope someone took a video of this and has sent it to the Ladyblog," she whispered to Carapace. "I can't believe that the one time Ladybug goes berserk, I can't film it."

"Remind me to never make Ladybug angry, dude," whispered Carapace back.

As the polka dotted heroine released her Miraculous Cure and the flock of little ladybugs flew around, Ladybug's eyes were trained to the spot her partner had fallen from. The second he reappeared, she ran. She ran to him as if nothing else mattered in the whole world. Pouncing on him, they fell to the ground in a blur of red and black while she hugged him with big tears streaming from her eyes.

"NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!" she roared and Rena smiled. Carapace smiled. Chat Noir beamed under the orange rays of the setting sun. From their position, they couldn't hear what he said, but it mustn't have been the answer she was looking for, because she started hitting his chest like a drum. "I SAID NEVER! NEVER EVER DO IT AGAIN CHATON! I CAN'T KEEP LOSING YOU! I CAN'T!"

Rena smiled as she glanced quickly at her communicator, connected to the Internet. She could see a video being posted of the fight to the Ladyblog just now, and immediately the comments started to flow. She sighed, hoping that one day her best friend would realise just how much she loved the black clad superhero. He wasn't just her partner as Marinette thought, and fights like this demonstrated it clearly. He was her rock, her support, and most importantly, he was her catalyst.

Four years had gone by, both Ladybug and Chat Noir had faced thousands of akumas and had risked death on hundreds of occasions. The only time that Ladybug could focus so sharply and defeat an akuma in just seconds like today, were always when he had died for her. No friendship, no simple partnership could create a bond so strong. Rena couldn't really put a finger on when it had happened, she had seen Ladybug's reactions to her partner's death becoming stronger and stronger as time went by. But as of now, Ladybug was the only person, in the universe, thought Rena, who would still be in denial and fail to admit that she loved Chat Noir.

He was only her partner—my foot, thought Rena. Marinette loved him, and one day. One day Rena would prove it to her. One day, her ship would sail.

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Author's Note:

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Hi! *waves* Yes, I'm back. Still alive. Still attempting to write. I don't know if I will be able to find inspiration for all the July prompts, but this one tickled my imagination so I decided to give it a go, so here it is. Hope you'll like it.

I'll be back soon, hopefully tomorrow if inspiration will strike again! Do you think this could count for the prompt "older" for LadyNoir July? What did you think of it? Please let me know, as you're aware, your comments are what pushes me to continue writing. I haven't forgotten my other stories, and I also haven't forgotten the promise I made to you all back in February so… keep following! ;)

#miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladynoir #tales of ladybug and cat noir #ladybug x chat noir #ladynoir #ladybug #tall vampire lady #cat noir #miraculous cat noir #miraculous chat noir #miraculous fanfiction #ml fanfiction ml fanworks #miraculous fanworks #snippet july #ladynoirjuly2021

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space-blue · 3 years ago

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Getting Tickets to a World Premiere as a Peasant : A Guide in Pictures

SO. I've been hyping myself to death over Denis Villeneuve's Dune for well over a year now, and at least 5% of my 2020/21 funk came from its delay.

However, I'm in Italy right now, and the Venice Biennale 2021 will be screening the world premiere of Dune and A GIRL CAN DREAM!!

I dreamt so hard, in fact, that I got myself some TICKETS!!! It was... a challenge, and I didn't know what to expect at all. Here's how it went.

https://www.labiennale.org/en/cinema/2021/information

I refreshed the main page until they announced the tickets would be available from 3pm, Italian time. So there I was sitting, totally not enjoying THIS fucking view...

refreshing the page like a mad woman for 40min. FOURTY!!

Finally the "BOOK YOUR TICKETS" fucker button appeared, and I got to join my first ever digital queue!!

Do not choose to be notified, things disappear in an instant, you can't afford to blink, let alone wait for a mail.

Once in, I got to look for Dune, screening on the 3rd of September, and was immediately greeted by this...

When it's grey you can't click... Means there's nothing to sell!! Which is ludicrous, I'm in the first wave!!

Sometimes stuff would be red for a second, letting you pick a seat, but dune was consistently grey, while other, less in demand films were more like, hello "buy a ticket!!"

I got upset and tried to buy a membership to one of the smaller cinema rooms, as they allow me to see all screenings in that room (and pay itself back around 9 films minimum depending on the room). Yes it was 94€, but guys, I'd pay 94 for a single ticket of Dune, easy peasy!!

But you see, these are limited to a certain number of seats, and they ask a LOT more details since it's a membership. By the time I hit ok and was pulling my visa out, this screen appeared :

I was in full rage mode of the cycle of grief. I couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it... I was spam refreshing all of the 4 screenings of Dune, waiting for a miracle. AND a miracle happened!! A section appeared blue... clicked, lost the first seat I selected to some fucker faster than me, got the second one...

Guys, I've never typed my card number faster.

And that's... That's it!!!

I'm going to see motherfucking Dune a month and a half early in a half full Sala Grande on the Lido di Venezia!! I booked an entire week in a hostel and I'm going to be viiiiibraaaatttiiiiinnnngggg the entire time, trust me!!

Obviously I'll post a review here... Screening is at midnight and the film is 2h35, I'm SO not sleeping that night!!!

In conclusion, even peasants can get in. The tickets at dirt cheap, 8€50 to 10€55?? Yes please? The issue is the incredibly stiff competition. You need fast internet, you need to hit that refresh button, you need your card ready, you need to use the search bar straight away, don't browse by dates, it'll slow you down. Open all rooms in a new page straight away, don't click in from the page you're using : backtracking sends you back to the main page without saving your search, and the website WILL expire, forcing you out to queue again (I think it was after 12min?) but it doesn't seem to be affected by refreshing.

Fucking pray to whatever gods you may believe in. Get in! Yay!

The price of 5 nights in the Anda Hostel by the Venice train station : 93€ without breakfast.

Bragging rights : Priceless.

#Dune #dune movie #dune 2021 #Biennale #venice #biennale di venezia #tickets #story #tutorial #world premiere #denis villeneuve

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hypo-critic-al · 4 years ago

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Korean Frankenstein musical: every subtitled song I could find

Because not many English-speaking people share my madness, my obsession for countless days whose name is Frankenstein musical or 프랑켄슈타인 뮤지컬 to be correct, I have decided to make yet another post about this Frankenstein adaptation.

After my boring and long review from last week, I said to myself: what if I try to find more subtitled songs from this? There isn’t much musical content apart from press conference recordings (and I can’t find bootlegs either) and even though not many people know about this show, there are some subbed vids! So thank you, sweet people from the internet, for putting subtitles on these clips, I can at least understand what’s going on in them.

(For further context of these songs, plot or whatever else go read my older post, I don’t know how to put a link of post here, I posted it not so long ago :) )

The Only Future

youtube

Victor tries to convince Henry to make a better race of humans with him, Henry doesn’t want to play God at first, later agrees. And an epic singing happens.

This song is very good. I seriously want their voices, acting skills and everything. And Victor’s statement about God is interesting. I mean, from a theological POV you are not correct, but you got the spirit. It’s a great song, Henry/Victor song, epic start to this play, what else do we need.

In Your Dream

youtube

I’m not gonna lie. I cry everytime.

This is a song from almost end of Act 1, however, I find it the most emotional in a terms of love from the whole play. Henry loves Victor so much that he sacrifices himself, falsely confesses of a murder that was a Victor’s crime, and dies so Victor can live and continue his experiment. They two are as close as they can be, yet Vic is dumb and Henry voluntarily takes the blame.

And the later part of this song is a heaven. Just listen to this song, even if you don’t care and just pass by, go watch it.

The Great History of The Creation of Life Begins

youtube

First of all, the title lenght. Second of all, this is as good as Birth to my Creation. But more twisted and Victor wants to fist-fight with the God. And "God bless me or rather hurl down your curse," sentence is so good.

For a bit of context, Victor reanimates the creature and uses Henry’s head to finish the creature. The thing Víc is holding in the beginning is Henry’s head. He just sews it to a rest of a body. Are you sane Victor? I knew you are capable of a lot of dumb stuff, but now you crossed a line...

The previous three songs + Monologue + Troubled Friend

youtube

There are previous three songs in this video plus another two. I just had to put those three songs before, because they have better translation and that previous version of In Your Dream is my favourite.

So we get a Monologue. It’s fine, it’s a love ballad, something like a Once Upon a Dream from J&H musical, however, they went Frankenstein: a new musical road, so it’s a Victor’s cousin singing a lovesong about him :-| ...

But Troubled Friend, DEAR MY! It’s like the tavern scene from the Frankenstein ballet but this time Victor and Henry are taking all the spotlight, and are the stars of that evening. Seriously, I didn’t know and I didn’t even think that Henry and Victor have THAT level dance moves. They are drunk, but hey! Go listen to it, they make me happy, Victor and Henry are happy.

But somebody tell Henry he shouldn’t joke about death like that. Little does he know, he will die in like next two songs.

The World of Men

youtube

Second Act starts and things start to go very far from the original source material. The Creature escapes Vic (who wants to kill him, btw) and finds himself lost. His strenght is noticed by an Eva, owner of a fighting arena and Creature voluntarily/involuntarily ends up as one of the gladiators.

I thought only Linda Eder can sing "bad wh*re" songs the best, this singer is very good too, I want her talent, I am jealous.

You Are a Monster

youtube

I don’t know if to like Jacques or utterly despise him.

Jacques, a husband of Eva, makes a deal with one of arena investors: if the Creature wins a fight against the investor’s fighter, the investor will forget their debt. And Jacques does not prepare the Creature, or does nothing, he simply slaps Creature and hits him with his cane a several times while making fun of him. That’s not how encouragement works...

In case you don’t know, this musical has double-roles. There are 22 characters in this musical and they are played by only 11 actors. The actors of characters from the first act are now another ones with a nice sybolics. The characters who abuse the Creature are later the characters whom Creature kills. Henry’s actor plays Creature, Victor’s one plays Jacques and later he plays Victor again, and so on. And I love double-cated musicals, look a Hamilton for example.

But the way Jacques says: "Victor Frankenstein’s experiment log," is so funny to me for some reason.

—————

That was all from subtitled songs, I shall continue more about other things.

Another thing I learned, is that this musical is the most popular original Korean musical (so like an original thing, no Broadway production, no West-End, no Wildhorn) and it had very good revenue as well (and although the first production premiered in like 2013 it has it’s fandom to this day), but the most shocking thing for me is that they are planning to go on a Broadway with it!

However, I feel like this performance won’t appeal to western audiences as much as to Korean one. I have a bad gut feeling, that this will either be a total disaster (monsters tend to not do very well on Broadway, see Dracula, Lestat, or even Frankenstein: a new musical) or it will pleasantly surprise us. Either way, I hope they won’t change the story and songs too much because this musical has it’s original charm like no other musical produced in West. It sounds more magical, emotional, foreign-like. I hope it will have it’s essense even on Broadway.

See, even though I sometimes feel like this musical was made by a Wildhorn fan who wanted to do their own Jekyll & Hyde musical but with Frankenstein, it’s kinda a good thing. If we forget Wildhorn-ish love ballads and Wildhorn J&H tropes here and there, we get a brilliant play with a great soundtrack. I mean, The Great History of a Creation of Life Begins, In your dream, I’m a Monster are so good! The chills every time...

I felt inspired by @dragonheadskilax ’es post about obscure Frankenstein adaptations and decided to make a post about another one myself. His posts about those adaptations made me curious, and I searched on my own as well. Which resulted in finding of this musical. So thank you if you are reading this :)

Okay, I think this post is way too long. If you want to know more about this musical, I made it’s small review with a plot summary before, you can check it out on my blog.

That’s all about this musical for today. See you :)

#frankenstein #frankenstein adaptation #frankenstein musical #victor frankenstein #henry clerval #i know they changed his surname in this musical but let’s pretend his name is clerval #musical #musical theatre #frankenstein or the modern prometheus #the modern prometheus #frankenstein’s monster #frankenstein’s creature

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duhragonball · 3 years ago

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Disinterpretation

I finally finished the Sarah Z video about “pro vs. anti”. It’s pretty long, and I ended up watching it in chunks over several days, but I think it’s worth watching, especially if you’re sort of partially connected to online fandom, but not enough to be aware of all the lingo.

As I expected, the whole thing was vague and confusing because the people involved in the conflict made it vague and confusing. In theory, the full terms would be “pro-shipping” and “anti-shipping”, but it seems like it’s more about particular kinds of ships that could be considered controversial. But that’s a slippery slope, and apparently the whole conflict mutated into both sides deciding that every hypothetical relationship between fictional characters is either equally valid or equally dangerous.

Long story short, it’s just purity culture, which was what everyone on Tumblr was calling it around 2012. But now, if you’re a sane person who genuinely asks: “Who gives a fuck about Voltron?”, these people will jump your ass and accuse you of being on the side of their enemies. “Children have died over the importance of Lotor/Hagger! Your callous indifference proves that you yourself must have murdered children!”

I think what Sarah Z really hit upon in this video was that media consumption has become so ingrained in our culture that people feel like it has to go hand-in-hand with our morality. That is, it’s not enough for me to watch Star Trek, I have to justify Star Trek as evidence that I’m a good person. Maybe this is where the expression “guilty pleasure” comes from. Conversely, it’s not enough for me to not watch Dr. Who, I have to somehow convince everyone that Dr. Who was invented by the devil.

I’m pretty sure the Reylo ship has a lot to do with this, since it’s kind of understood to be a dark, problematic concept, and fans either embrace its flaws or recoil in horror because of them. Star Wars itself is a dumb story about space wizards, so people try to give the debate more weight by linking it to freedom of self expression and/or enabling real world harm. Suddenly it’s not enough to just think two actors would look cute making out instead of fighting. Now it’s this battlefield for the soul of civilization or something.

I grew up in the 80′s, when “concerned parents” and grifters would accuse the Smurfs and metal bands of promoting satanism and witchcraft. I used to hear stories of teens going out into the woods in the middle of the night to do occult stuff, and all I could ever think about was: “Why would anyone bother wandering out in the woods in the middle of the night?” Which is why “concerned parents” turned their attention to things that were closer to home, like Saturday morning cartoons. It had nothing to do with the content; it was just about finding a safe, accessible target for their hysteria. Some people want to go on a crusade without leaving the house, so they pick a fight with Papa Smurf instead of confronting the real evils in the world. Even as a kid, I knew this was a con, because I’d watched the show for myself and knew it was too saccharine to be threat to anyone.

The pro/anti folks have tried to disguise this with a lot of terminology. I wondered why they seemed to reluctant to use the full terms “pro-shipper” and “anti-shipper”, and it’s probably a couple of things. First, the word “shipper” is basically an admission that this is pointless bullshit that doesn’t matter, and they’d like to avoid that connotation. Second, they seem to have decided that this goes beyond shipping itself, into practically anything else they want it to involve. It’s all part of the con, which is to make you believe that it’s “us vs. them”, and you can be part of “us” by curating specific attitudes about Steven Universe.

Seriously, “about Steven Universe” is such an incredible punchline. You can make anything funnier by adding those three words to the end of a sentence. “Do not interact if you blog about Steven Universe.” “Hey, what’s up, YouTube, this is SSJ3RyokoLover69, and this is going to be kind of a serious video about Steven Universe.” “Mrs. Johnson, the results of your biopsy are in, and I have some bad news about Steven Universe.” It’s a fucking kids show. “Oh no, all the characters look like the characters in all the other kids shows!” Yeah, that’s because it’s a kids show. Marvin looks like Garfield, this isn’t new.

The common denominator here seems to be that both sides try to wrap themselves in the flag of vulnerable groups: impressionable minors, trauma survivors, harassment victims, etc. The “pros” want to protect those people so that they can feel free to explore weird subject matter on their own terms, and the “antis” want to protect the same people from being exposed to weird subject matter that they might not want to see. It’s all about establishing a moral high ground. Back in the day, it was called “sanctimony”.

But people get roped into this, because at their core, people want approval, and this stupid conflict offers them a sense of community. As long as you support the cause, whatever it may be, you’ll have this online friend network that appears to support anything you do. But if you deviate from their norm, you’ll be cast out. Does this sound familiar?

To use a more familiar example, I still sometimes find people clamoring about Gochi vs. Vegebul. I’ve never understood this, because both ships were canon, and I never saw much direct evidence of a war between them, but people would still talk about how crazy the Vegebul shippers were, and how crazy the Gochi shippers were, and it was like some huge thing going on just over the hills. It’s the same idea, since the idea that you could like both or neither never seems to occur to anyone involved. I never gave a shit, because I used to see the same dumb agendas in the Harry Potter fandom.

Okay, so let me take you back. It’s 2005 through 2011, and I’m hateblogging all seven Harry Potter novels, because fuck you, that’s why. The funny thing I encountered was that occasionally fans seemed to want to pretend like my bashing of certain characters was proving them right somehow. They were like “See? He hates Ron Weasley too! That proves that Seamus Finnegan is the coolest guy ever.” The Slytherin stans would do this all the time, because I would constantly take the piss out of the Gryffindor characters for being self-important dopes. I think they just liked hearing it from an outside perspective. But I had to keep reminding them all that I hated all of them. Every character from Harry Potter sucks ass. Voldemort was my favorite, but only because he was the one guy who wanted to kill all of the others. But he sucks too because he failed.

And the shippers were the same way. I’d say something shitty about Ron, because Ron sucks, and some smartass Joss Whedon fan would be like “Yes! Boost the signal! That is why Harry/Hermione is the best ship!” And I’d be like “No, Harry and Hermione suck at least as bad as Ron does. They’re all terrible and I hate them.” I really do think there was some sort of Stockholm Syndrome going on with Harry Potter books, where everyone secretly knows they suck, but the fans sort of latch on to one or two characters and go like “Well, he’s not as shitty as the rest.” Like finding spaghetti in the trash and picking out the meatball with the least amount of lint on it. Then you’d go and start a flamewar with some other starving person over whether your meatball is shittier than theirs. This is what people mean when they say to read another book.

Anyway, the big thing I picked up from Sarah Z’s video is “disinterpretation”, a term coined by MSNBC columnis Zeeshan Aleem. The Twitter thread is worth a read, but the short version is that he once remarked that a Julia Louis-Dreyfus routine wasn’t very good, and someone got mad at him for insinuating that women are incapable of being funny. They just took his dissatisfaction with one performance by one comedian as being a universal condemnation of women comedians in general. And this sort of thing is all over the internet. Everyone sees what they want to see and then they take it as permission to overreact.

I ran into this myself a while back, because someone saw who I interacted with on Twitter and decided that they’re all bad guys and if I have any interaction with them, then that makes me a bad guy too. At the time I tried to play it cool, but the more I think about it, the more it ticks me off. And over the course of that conversation, it was said that I don’t talk about myself much, and that’s kind of funny, because all I ever do on social media is write long-ass blog posts like this one. I don’t expect anyone to memorize them, or even read them all the way through, but when I write all this stuff and someone goes out of their way to say they don’t know anything about me, the message is that they just didn’t pay attention to what I was saying, and they didn’t bother to try.

So I’m a little jaded from that, because I got called out for a bunch of stuff I didn’t even do or say, and apparently that’s just a thing that happens. People will reject you for completely arbitrary reasons, not because of anything you actually said or did, and you’re left thinking you made some terrible mistake. Except, no, I’ve seen it happen to other people, people a lore more conscientious than I am, and if they can’t satisfy the bullshit purity standards, then I never stood a chance. If the game is rigged so I can’t win, then I’m not going to play.

And it’s that same condition that probably draws people into these online holy wars, because if you declare yourself for the pro or anti side, at least then you’ll have a posse backing you up. Only they don’t support you, they support your willingness to support them. Once your commitment to their agenda wavers, even in the slightest, they will turn against you.

Sarah Z suggests that both sides of the war drop the pro and anti terms, since they lost all meaning long ago. But that just invites a new set of useless terms to perpetuate the same cycle. Her more useful advice is for fandom people to broaden their horizons. She got a lot of flak for tweeting “Go outside” once, but the ironic thing is that it’s sound advice. I had lunch with my mom yesterday and it was just nice getting away from things for a while. People need to do that more often, and unfortunately it feels like it’s harder to do than ever before.

But “go outside” isn’t just a literal thing. It can mean going beyond your usual haunts, reading the same books, watching the same shows, rehashing the same conversations. I think the reason this stuff always revolves around “shipping” is because there seems to be this deep-seated compulsion to pair fictional characters off like this, and for a lot of folks it’s the only way they can consume a story, so they do. And they do it lot, and there’s a lot of them, and they do it the same way every time, and lo and behold the same old conflicts start up. So maybe “go outside” should mean “go outside of that cycle once in a while.” Just a thought.

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years ago

Text

Horror / Six: The Musical AU (X Reader) || Headcanons

Explanation: So all the songs are being sun by different readers with different Henry’s (The Horror Villains of course) instead of one Henry. I think its pretty straight forward apart from that! I hope to make a second part to this where the readers actually meet up and complain about their times with their respective horror villains. This is fun XD Had the idea a couple months back and I posted it and one blog commented saying Six is their favourite musical, so this is basically for me and them haha XD

Character Included: Michael Myers, Chucky / Charles Lee Ray (And Tiffany Valentine), Bubba Sawyer, Norman Bates, Mayor Buckman (And Harper Alexandre) and Jason Voorhees.

Warnings: Murder of the readers (By respective Horror Villains and a non-explicit difficult birth in Bubba’s), birth / pregnancy, toxic / abusive relationships, sexual harrassment / maybe rape (All You Wanna Do- Buckmans), language, suggested mother / son grossness (Norman and Norma of course).

I laugh in the face of those who would subdue my mad ideas.

‘No Way’ (Reader as Catherine of Aragon): Michael Myers as Henry

My name's Catherine of Aragon Was married 24 years I'm a paragon of royalty, my loyalty is to the Vatican So if you try to dump me You won't try that again

You were in a, of course, very unequal relationship with the shape of Haddonfield. He saw you one day, was completely taken by you, and decided to let you live. He would come by and use you however he liked, kill the people you loved when they got your attention over him, etc. Like any other Michael Myers x Reader.

And, years and years later (Because it’s not like Michael finds someone every day that he gives even a bit of a shit about like he does - did, - you) he comes upon a new person. Someone he, like he was you, is drawn to.

And he tries to drop you like a hot potato.

And this infuriates you. You are not about to let go! He has ruined your life! You have no friends, no family, no life, because of him! All you have, is (regrettably) him and you are going to be his for the rest of your life. That’s what he wanted, that’s what the bastard’s going to get.

(Many, many years with him has caused your courage against him to grow spectacularly. You can say nearly anything to him)

|- ‘You must agree that, baby, in all the time I been by your side

I've never lost control’

‘I've put up with your sh- like every single day’ -|

You give him one more chance- if he can tell you one thing that you have done to him to legitimately hurt him… then you’ll leave willingly.

…

But he has nothing. And he doesn’t care.

|- ‘You got me down on my knees

Please tell me what you think I've done wrong

Been humble, been loyal, I've tried to swallow my pride all along

If you can just explain a single thing

I've done to cause you pain, I'll go

No?’ -|

|- ‘You wanna replace me? Baby, there's

N-n-n-n-n-n-no way

You made me a wife, so I'll be queen 'til the end of my life’ -|

He ends up strangling you to death when you won’t shut up.

‘Don’t Lose Your Head’ (Reader as Anne Boleyn): Chucky / Charles Lee Ray as Henry (And Tiffany as Catherine of Aragon)

I'm that Boleyn girl and I'm up next See I broke England from the church Yeah, I'm that sexy Why did I lose my head? Well, my sleeves may be green but my lipstick's red

Chucky and his filthy ass catches sight of you. Young, French and vivacious and he’s got heart eyes on the spot. He wants you, but he also doesn’t really want to lose Tiffany.

So... yeah, you end up living with them both for a while and its very awkward and a very hostile situation.

|- ‘Here we go

(You sent him kisses)

I didn't know I would move in with his misses

(What?)

Get a life

(You're living with his wife?)

Like, what was I meant to do?’ -|

You don’t like it. No one likes this. Chucky! Make up your mind!

|- ‘Three in the bed and the little one said

If you wanna be wed, make up your mind

Her or me, chum

Don't wanna be some

Girl in a threesome

Are you blind?’ -|

Tiffany is of course Catherine, and the fandom (The people of Britain for the sake of this AU) loves her (As we all know), so when you come along and insult her because Chucky is now your man (Supposedly.) and of course you two aren’t getting along with each other in the first place because of him … you get a bad name.

|- ‘Ooh, why hasn't it hit her?

He doesn't want to bang you

Somebody hang you

(Wow Anne, way to make the country hate you)

Mate, what was I meant to do?’ -|

When eventually Chucky is able to grow the balls to boot Tiffany out (My heart hurts writing this, trust me), he pulls a ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater’ kind of shit and has no loyalty to you or respect for the sanctity of your relationship, and starts having one night stands here, there and everywhere. He tries vaguely to tell you you’re being silly and that’s not true- but he has lipstick on his shirt collars and perfume smell all over him.

Its not a nice living condition.

So you, still very much being the vivacious bitch that he ‘fell in love with’, go and flirt with some other guys. Just to make him a teensy bit jealous! I mean, its not like he’ll really care, right? You just wanna spark the fire again!

|- ‘Henry's out every night on the town

Just sleeping around, like what the hell?

If that's how it's gonna be

Maybe I'll flirt with a guy or three

Just to make him jell’ -|

But he finds out as planned… and is p i s s e d. He threatens that if you do that again, he’ll fucking kill you.

You, not going to let him talk to you like that, flirt with one more man. Just to be disobedient.

|- ‘Henry finds out and he goes mental

He screams and shouts

Like so judgemental

You damn that witch

Mate, just shut up

I wouldn't be such a b-

If you could get it up’ -|

And you find out that he very much meant it when he said he would kill you.

|- ‘And now he's going 'round like off with her head (No)

(No)

Yeah, I'm pretty sure he means it’ -|

‘Heart of Stone’ (Reader as Jane Seymour): Bubba Sawyer as Henry

Jane Seymour the only one he truly loved (Rude) When my son was newly born, I died But I'm not what I seem or am I? Stick around and you'll suddenly see more

You were an intended victim of the Sawyers, but like with Stretch, Bubba crushes on you instead. The difference here, is that you see the gentleness to him compared to his brothers, and how scared he is when one of them yells at him, and all the other little signs that he’s not as vicious or evil as his first impressions might convey. You have a big, brave heart, and you realise right there that its death and cannibalisation or understanding and caring for this man and you choose to love.

|- ‘You came my way, and I knew a storm could come too.’-|

|- ‘You've got a good heart

But I know it changes

A restless tide, untameable’ -|

So you take his hands in yours, all shaky and meaty as they are, and promise him that you will never leave him. You’ll protect him. You’ll take any mess he and his family can throw at you- you’ll always be with him. Your promise.

|- ‘But I took your hand, promised I'd withstand

Any blaze you blew my way

'Cause something inside, it solidified

And I knew I'd always stay’ -|

And he believes you, of course. Its so nice to be looked at so softly, especially by someone as pretty as you.

I- ‘You can build me up, you can tear me down

You can try but I'm unbreakable

You can do your best, but I'll stand the test

You'll find that I'm unshakeable

When the fire's burnt

When the wind has blown

When the water's dried, you'll still find stone

My heart of stone’ -|

And you prove yourself. You prove over and over again that no matter what he, or the twins, or Drayton, or even Grandpa throws at you- you’ll survive and you’ll stay, and you’ll never stop looking at him in that lovely soft way.

|- ‘You say we're perfect

A perfect family’ -|

You get pregnant of course because everyone in the Sawyers / Hewitts family has a breeding kink and you can’t tell me otherwise, and the birth is of course very difficult because Drayton isn’t about to pay for hospital bills. So you’re in their home, in all the mess and the dirt and with no sort of aesthetic, and…

|- ‘Soon I'll have to go

I'll never see him grow’ -|

You don’t make it. Your babies born fine and healthy, and you bring another strong Sawyer boy to the family, but you’re gone.

‘Get Down’ (Reader as Anne of Cleves): Norman Bates as Henry

Ich bin Anne of Cleves Ja! When he saw my portrait, he was like Ja! But I didn't look as good as good as I did in my pic Funny how we all discuss that but never Henry's little-

So, one day, Norman decides its time to properly settle down (Long after his mother… ah… ‘dies’) and get a partner, and because there isn’t really anyone around where he lives to date or, even, who wouldn’t get creeped out by him and his taxidermy, he turns to online dating.

He meets you there. You own and run your own hotel in the next state over, you don’t mind his taxidermy at all, and your profile picture looks… hauntingly familiar (If you look nothing like Vera Farmiga go by the original movie- she was but a skeleton there so she really could be anyone).

|- ‘Sittin' here all alone

On a throne

In a palace that I happen to own

I'm not fake 'cause I've got acres and acres

Paid for with my own riches’ -|

And you two get along great over messages! You online date for a good year before Norman proposes you elope and come to live with him! You think you’ve known him long enough, and you trust him!

So you fly right over, and he meets you at the airport, and…

He’s disappointed.

Like, ‘sorry, nah, you don’t look enough like mama so this isn’t gonna work’. In a more fidgety, quiet, subdued kind of way though. He’s so awkward with communication that he even suggests that you doctored your profile picture.

I- ‘You, you said that I tricked ya

'Cause I, I didn't look like my profile picture’ -|

And, understandably, you’re p i s s e d, and disgusted! But ya’ll already got married over the internet, so theirs no stopping that! This is your husband. You realise you’ve made a huge mistake and go right back to your home and your hotel to get divorce papers drawn up.

You’re the queen of your own fucking castle, who needs him?

|- ‘I'm the queen of the castle

Get down, you dirty rascal

'Cause I'm the queen of the castle’ -|

You are understandably, very very mad. And you say some things to Norman about he and his mother, that… may be true… but that he certainly doesn’t appreciate.

When you finally get the papers, and you’ve been separated long enough for it to be legal, you go back to the Bates Motel to get Norman to sign them and stay over a night. You’ve calmed down enough that you’re able to have a pleasant conversation with him, and you decide that you’re too tired to take the plane back home right away so you take up Normans offer to stay in one of vacant rooms (*Cough* So you basically have the run of the place. Or they do. *Cough).

Norman is also pretty calm about the whole thing as well, like you! But… Norma, is still seething.

You don’t wake up the next morning.

‘All You Wanna Do’ (Reader as Kathrine Howard): Mayor Buckman as Henry (And Harper as Thomas)

Prick up your ears, I'm the Catherine who lost her head (Beheaded) For my promiscuity outside of wed Lock up your husbands Lock up your sons K. Howard is here and the fun's begun

Right, so, you haven’t had good luck in love throughout your life, so you decide to give up on boys entirely.

|- ‘So I decided to have a break from boys

And you'll never guess who I met’ -|

… And meet a man, not much later. A man in power; A mayor. A man who’s been married before and has a beard (So you know; He’s a man. XD No little boy.). This is of course Buckman. He calls you love, and you get a job in Pleasant Valley that keeps you comfortably busy. You feel like, finally, you’re where you belong. You feel fulfilled- no committed relationships are necessary.

|- ‘Globally revered

Although you wouldn't know it from the look of that beard

Made me a lady in waiting

Hurled me and my family up in the world

Gave me duties in court and he swears it's true

That without me, he doesn't know what he'd do

He cares so much, he calls me love’ -|

But then Buckman tells you that he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more. And, though you are a little disappointed that your solitude didn’t last, you decide that he’s decent enough (’He is rather kind to me, and he does makes me smile a fair bit’, you try to reason with yourself that this is a good idea) and so you start to go out. Its not long before you’re married.

|- ‘So we got married Woo…’

Woo…’ -|

But being married to him isn’t easy. Not at all. You’re not use to politics; There are so many rules now, and he’s always too busy to help. And the rest for Pleasant Valley are a bit… odd. And you just don’t fit in. And this is wear Harper (Thomas) comes in.

|- ‘With Henry, it isn't easy

His temper's short, and his mates are sleazy

Except for this one courtier

He's a really nice guy, just so sincere

The royal life isn't what I planned

But Thomas is there to lend a helping hand

So sweet, makes sure that I'm okay

And we hang out loads when the King's away’ -|

And he’s so lovely and caring towards you (Never more then when Buckman leaves for business in other towns), helping you through the transition from your old life to this one. He’s a good friend, to you. And that is most definitely all he is, on your side of it. A friend. You don’t feel attractions towards him at all apart from that, and he doesn’t try to make any moves. Its wonderful!

|- ‘This guy, finally

Is what I want, the friend I need

Just mates, no chemistry

I get him and he gets me’ -|

… Until one day when Buckman has been away for a month, he tells you he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more.

|- ‘He says we have a connection

I thought this time was different

Why did I think he'd be different?

But it's never, ever different’ -|

Lets just say one things leads to another, despite you at first turning him away and saying no. He’s so insistent, and a little scary, and you’re lonely because your husbands’ has been away so long, and… something happens that you regret and feel gross about.

|- ‘Squeeze me, don't care if you don't please me

Bite my lip and pull my hair

As you tell me, I'm the fairest of the fair

Playtime's over.’ -|

You tell Buckman when he gets home, and you watch as every bit of warmth and love in his eye disappears, just like that.

Its not long after that that his jealousy and betrayed rage takes over… and… you die with a rope around your neck and your feet swaying above the ground.

|- ‘Playtime’s over’ -|

(Alternatively, Sheriff Hoyt as Henry and Thomas as Thomas)

‘I Don’t Need Your Love’ (Reader as Catherine Parr): Jason Voorhees as Henry (Your last love was Jason when he was alive)

Five down, I'm the final wife I saw him to the end of his life I'm the survivor Catherine Parr I bet you wanna know how I got this far I said I bet you wanna know how we got this far Do you wanna know how we got this far then?

So, you’re like the leader of the ‘Slashers Ex Squad’ because you, unlike the others, survived your time with Jason. This is because Jason did, truly, love you (To an extent- not enough to let you go and live your life without him or be free). None of the others really did. Not like he did.

|- ‘Became the one who survived’ -|

Your story:

You and Jason had an adorable little 11-year-old puppy love relationship when he was alive. You were his only friend, and he had it bad for you because of it. Pamela loved you, too.

When he died you were of course devastated, and years later when you were 30 (Making him also thirty- not that you know that. You still think he’s dead at this point) you’re taken by the need to go back to Camp Crystal Lake and pay your respects to your childhood love / friend. Its just one of those nostalgic days.

When you go, and you set flowers down by the lake, Jason catches sight of you. He thinks about killing you… but then your features start to make sense to him. He recognises you, and for the first time since his mother was killed, he feels his heartbeat speed up and swell with hope.

Jason of course kidnaps you then, and keeps you hostage for himself. He missed you. He doesn’t want to survive anymore time without you. You’re all he has left!

… After you realise that this is Jason Voorhees, you quickly learn that this Jason is, of course, not the boy that you cared, and care, so deeply about. He’s done horrible things, and he is never going to stop; And frankly, deep inside… he scares you.

But its not like you can leave him! He would never let you, he’s made that clear. You are all he has, and now, he is all that you have.

|- ‘I don't have a choice

If Henry says "it's you", then it's you

No matter how I feel

It's what I have to do’ -|

So you write a letter to the old Jason (And your old life), saying goodbye, in admittance to the fact that you’ll never be able to get away from this new Jason. This is you letting go of your freedom and any preconceptions that anything will every be the same- with Jason, or otherwise.

|- ‘It's true I'll never be over you 'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you And now the hope is gone There's nothing left for me to do’

'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you

And now the hope is gone

There's nothing left for me to do’ -|

You never stop hating him for how he’s changed (How he’s taken your Jason away, and wont even attempt to go back) and how he’s stolen away your freedom.

|- ‘I'd say "Henry, yeah it's true

I'll never belong to you

'Cause I am not your toy, to enjoy till there's something new

As if I'm gonna give up my boy, my work, my dreams

To care for you"

"Ha, darling, get a clue”

But I can't say that

Not to the king’ -|

You eventually die of natural causes at, like, 60.

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