#Reading about Andrew's mum has me SO emotional

[denimbex1986]

'Andrew Scott’s success did not arrive overnight. His has been a slow and steady ascent from supporting player to leading man. But his status is now assured: at 47, the Irishman is among the most talented and prominent actors of his generation, on stage and screen.

Dublin-born and raised, Scott first took drama classes at the suggestion of his mother, an art teacher, to try to overcome a childhood lisp. At 17 he won his first part in a film, Korea (1995), about an Irish boy who finds himself fighting in the Korean War. By 21, he was winning awards for his performance in Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey into Night, for director Karel Reisz, no less, at The Gate. He arrived in London, where he continues to live, at the end of the 1990s, and worked regularly, with smaller parts in bigger TV shows (Band of Brothers, Longitude) and bigger parts in smaller plays (A Girl in a Car With a Man, Dying City). By the mid-2000s he was well established, especially in the theatre. In 2006, on Broadway, he was Julianne Moore’s lover, and Bill Nighy’s son, in David Hare’s Iraq War drama, The Vertical Hour, directed by Sam Mendes. In 2009, he was Ben Whishaw’s betrayed boyfriend in Mike Bartlett’s Cock, at the Royal Court. He won excellent notices for these and other performances, but he was not yet a star. If you knew, you knew. If you didn’t know, you didn’t know. Most of us didn’t know; not yet.

That changed in 2010 when, at the age of 33, he played Jim Moriarty, arch nemesis of Benedict Cumberbatch’s egocentric detective, in the BBC’s smash hit Sherlock. The appearance many remember best is his incendiary debut, in an episode called “The Great Game”. When first we meet him, Moriarty is disguised as a creepy IT geek, a human flinch with an ingratiating smile. It’s an act so convincing that even Sherlock doesn’t catch on. Next time we see him, he’s a dapper psychotic in a Westwood suit, with an uncannily pitched singsong delivery and an air of casual menace that flips, suddenly, into rage so consuming he’s close to tears. Such was the relish with which Scott played the villain — he won a Bafta for it — that he risked the black hat becoming stuck to his head. In Spectre (2015), the fourth of Daniel Craig’s Bond movies, and the second directed by Sam Mendes, Scott played Max Denbigh, or C, a smug Whitehall mandarin who wants to merge MI5 and MI6, sacrilegiously replacing the 00 agents with drones. (If only.)

There were other decent roles in movies and TV series, as well as substantial achievements on stage, and he might have carried on in this way for who knows how long, even for his whole career, as a fêted stage performer who never quite breaks through as a leading man on screen.

But Scott had more to offer than flashy baddies and scene-stealing cameos. His Hamlet, at The Almeida in London, in 2017, was rapturously received. I’ve seen it only on YouTube, but even watching on that degraded format, you can appreciate the fuss. Scott is magnetic: funny, compelling, and so adept with the language that, while you never forget he’s speaking some of the most profound and beautiful verse ever written, it feels as conversational as pub chat.

Another banner year was 2019: a memorable cameo in 1917 (Mendes again) as a laconic English lieutenant; an Emmy nomination for his performance in an episode of Black Mirror; and the matinée idol in Noel Coward’s Present Laughter at London’s Old Vic, for which he won the Olivier for Best Actor, the most prestigious award in British theatre.

The second series of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s phenomenal Fleabag, also in 2019, proved to a wider public what theatregoers already knew: Scott could play the mainstream romantic lead, and then some. His character was unnamed. The credits read, simply, “The Priest”. But social media and the newspapers interpolated an adjective and Scott became The Hot Priest, Fleabag’s unlucky-in-love interest, a heavy-drinking heartbreaker in a winningly spiffy cassock, and an internet sensation.

Fleabag began as a spiky dramedy about a traumatised young woman. Scott’s storyline saw it develop into a bittersweet rom-com, brimming with compassion for its two clever, funny, horny, lonely, awkward, baggage-carrying heroes, lovers who can’t get together because, for all the snogging in the confessional, one of them is already taken, in this case by God.

It was the best and brightest British comedy of the 2010s, and Scott’s fizzing chemistry with Waller-Bridge had much to do with that. The ending, when she confesses her feelings at a bus stop, is already a classic. “I love you,” she tells him. “It’ll pass,” he says.

Over the past 12 months, in particular, Scott has piled triumph on top of victory, and his star has risen still further. At the National, last year, he executed a coup de théâtre in Vanya, for which he was again nominated for an Olivier. (He lost out to an old Sherlock sparring partner, Mark Gatiss, for his superb turn in The Motive and the Cue, about the making of an earlier Hamlet.) For Simon Stephens’s reworking of Chekhov’s play, Scott was the only actor on stage. On a sparsely furnished set, in modern dress — actually his own clothes: a turquoise short sleeve shirt, pleated chinos, Reebok Classics and a thin gold chain — and with only very slight modulations of his voice and movements, he successfully embodied eight separate people including an ageing professor and his glamorous young wife; an alcoholic doctor and the woman who loves him; and Vanya himself, the hangdog estate manager. He argued with himself, flirted with himself and even, in one indelible moment, had it off with himself.

It’s the kind of thing that could have been indulgent showboating, a drama-school exercise taken too far, more fun for the performer than the audience. But Scott carried it off with brio. In the simplest terms, he can play two people wrestling over a bottle of vodka in the middle of the night — and make you forget that there’s only one of him, and he’s an Irish actor, not a provincial Russian(s). An astonishing feat.

For his next trick: All of Us Strangers, among the very best films released in 2023. Writer-director Andrew Haigh’s ghost story is about Adam (Scott), a lonely writer, isolated in a Ballardian west-London high-rise, who returns to his suburban childhood home to find that his parents — killed in a car crash when he was 11 — are still living there, apparently unaltered since 1987. Meanwhile, Adam begins a tentative romance with a neighbour, Henry (Paul Mescal), a younger man, also lonely, also vulnerable, also cut off from family and friends.

Tender, lyrical, sentimental, sad, strange, and ultimately quite devastating, All of Us Strangers was another potential artistic banana skin. At one point, Scott’s character climbs into bed with his parents and lies between them, as a child might, seeking comfort. In less accomplished hands, this sort of thing could have been exasperating and embarrassing. But Scott’s performance grounds the film. He is exceptionally moving in it. He was nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Actor, losing to his fellow Irishman, Cillian Murphy, for Oppenheimer. Earlier this year, he made history as the first person to receive Critics Circle awards in the same year for Best Actor in a film (All of Us Strangers) and a play (Vanya).

Finally, last month, the title role in Ripley, a new spin on the lurid Patricia Highsmith novels. That show, which unspools over eight episodes on Netflix, was a long time coming. Announced in 2019, it was filmed during the pandemic, at locations across Italy and in New York. Scott is in almost every scene and delivers an immensely subtle and nuanced portrayal of Highsmith’s identity thief, a character previously played by actors including Alain Delon, Dennis Hopper, and Matt Damon in the famous Anthony Minghella film The Talented Mr Ripley, from 1999.

The fragile almost-charm that makes Tom Ripley such an enduring antihero is there in Scott’s portrayal, but so is the creepiness, the isolation, the fear and desperation. His Ripley can turn on a smile, but it quickly curdles. Filmed in high-contrast black and white, Ripley is a sombre, chilly work by design, but doggedly compelling, and not without a mordant wit. Again, critics swooned.

So the actor is on a hot streak. Later this year he’ll appear in Back in Action, a Hollywood spy caper, alongside Cameron Diaz and Jamie Foxx, above-the-title stars with dazzling, wide-screen smiles. But could they play Chekhov single-handed? They’ll need to be on their toes.

Before our shoot and subsequent interview, in April, I had met Scott briefly on two previous occasions, both times at fancy dinners for fashion brands. Compact, stylish, dynamic, he is impishly witty and charismatic: good in a room. Also, obliging: the second time I met him, he took my phone and spoke into it in his most diabolical Moriarty voice for a wickedly funny voice message to my son, a Sherlock fan.

At the Esquire shoot, on an overcast day in south London, Scott again demonstrated his good sportiness: dancing in the drizzle in a Gucci suit; generously sharing his moment in the spotlight with an unexpected co-star, a local cat who sauntered on to the set and decided to stick around for the close-ups; and entertaining the crew — and hangers-on, including me — with rude jokes. At one point, while for some reason discussing the contents of our respective fridges, I asked him where he kept his tomatoes. “Easy, Tiger,” he said.

At lunch the following day, upstairs at Quo Vadis, the restaurant and members’ club in Soho (my suggestion), the actor arrived promptly, settled himself on a banquette, and we got straight to business. It’s standard practice now for interviews published in the Q&A format to include a disclaimer, in the American style: “This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.” (Well, duh.) In this case, we talked for close to three hours. Inevitably, paper costs being what they are, and Esquire readers having busy lives, some of that verbiage has ended up on the cutting-room floor. But not much! I’ve tried to let it flow as much as possible, and to keep the spirit of the thing, in which we toggled, like all good performances, between light and dark, comedy and tragedy.

In early March, a month before this interview took place, Scott and his family suffered a terrible and unexpected loss: his mother, Nora, suddenly died. He went home to Dublin to be with his dad, Jim, his sisters, Sarah and Hannah, and their family and friends.

As an interviewee and, I suspect, as a person, Scott is thoughtful, convivial and solicitous: he doesn’t just answer questions, he also asks them. He is not above the occasional forearm squeeze when he wants to emphasise a point. He seems to possess a sharp emotional intelligence. Perhaps one should expect empathy in a great actor, but in him it seems particularly marked.

Before we began talking, there was some studying of the menu. Scott wondered, since I eat often at Quo Vadis, if I had any recommendations. I told him I had my eye on the pie: chicken, ham and leek. “Why would you not have the pie?” wondered Scott. A good question.

So, how was your morning? Where have you come from?

This morning I’ve been at the gym, Alex.

Are you working out for a specific reason or are you just a healthy man?

Just trying to keep it going. Exercise is so helpful to me. I don’t know if you know, but my mum died four weeks ago.

I did know, and I’m so sorry.

Thank you. So, yeah. Just trying to keep it going. They say your body feels it as much as your mind.

The grief?

Yeah, the grief. My friend said a brilliant thing last night. She’s been through grief. She said, if you think of it like weights, the weight of it doesn’t decrease, but your ability to lift the weights does. So, if you go to the gym and you’re completely unpractised you won’t be able to lift the weight. But the more you get used to it, the more you can lift. There’s a slight analogy to grief. I’m just learning about it.

Have you been through grief before?

Not really. A little bit, but not to this extent. And it’s a strange thing because, obviously, I’m in the middle of having to talk a lot [promoting Ripley] and making that decision of whether to talk about it or whether not to talk about it. I’m finding myself talking about it, because it’s what’s going on, and without giving away too much of it she was such an important figure. It feels right. It’s such a natural thing.

Is it helpful to talk about it?

I think it has to be. I feel very lucky with my job, in the sense that, all those more complex, difficult feelings, that’s what you have to do in a rehearsal room; you have to explore these things. So strange: a lot of the recent work that I’ve done has been exploring grief. With Vanya, and All of Us Strangers. So it’s odd to be experiencing it this time for real.

I wasn’t planning on making that the focal point of this piece, so it’s up to you how much you feel comfortable talking about it.

I appreciate that.

Was it unexpected? Did it happen out of the blue?

Yes. She was very alive four weeks ago. She just deteriorated very quickly. She got pneumonia and she just… it was all over within 24 hours.

What sort of person was she?

She was the most enormously fun person that you could possibly imagine. Insanely fun and very, very creative. She’s the person who sort of introduced me to acting and art. She taught me to draw and paint when I was really young —that’s another big passion of mine, drawing and painting. She was amazing with all of us. My sister Sarah is very talented in sport, she’s now a sports coach. And my sister Hannah was very artistic and she’s an actor now. So, she was really good at supporting us throughout all our different interests. What I say is that we’ve been left a huge fortune by her. Not financially, but an emotional fortune, if you know what I mean? I feel that really strongly. And once this horrible shock is over, I just have to figure out how I’m going to spend it. Because I think when someone else is alive and they’ve got amazing attributes, they look after those attributes. And then when they die, particularly if they are your parent, you feel like you want to inhabit them, these incredible enthusiasts for life. She just made connections with people very easily. I feel enormously grateful to have had her. Have you had much grief in your life?

My mother died, during Covid. She had been ill for a long time, so it was a very different experience to yours. But I think they are all different experiences, for each of us. I don’t know if that loss would be in any way analogous to yours. But like you, I love art and books and music, and that’s all from her. Last night, I watched a rom-com with my daughter, who is 14. And I don’t know if I would like rom-coms so much, if it wasn’t for my mum.

Love a rom-com! What did you watch?

Annie Hall.

Did she like it, your daughter?

She absolutely loved it. She was properly laughing.

Oh, that’s great!

And she’s a tough one to impress. But she loved it, and my mum loved Woody Allen. My mum can’t recommend Woody Allen to my daughter now, but I can, and that’s come down from her. So it goes on.

That’s what I mean. Your spirit doesn’t die. And I’m sure you went to bed going, “Yes!”

I did! It was a lovely evening, it really was. Tonight we’ll watch something else.

Are you going to watch another Woody Allen? Which one are you going to watch?

I thought maybe we’d watch Manhattan? More Diane Keaton.

Or Hannah and Her Sisters? That’s a good one. Insanely good. Yeah, it’s amazing that legacy, what you’re left with. My mum was so good at connecting with people. She was not very good at small talk. She was quite socially bold. She would say things to people. If she thought you looked well, she’d tell you. She’d always come home with some story about some pot thrower she met at some sort of craft fair. Being socially bold, there’s a sort of kindness in it. When someone says something surprising, it’s completely delightful. My mother sent me something when I was going through a bad time in my twenties. It was just a little card. It said, “The greatest failure is not to delight.” What a beautiful quote. And she was just delighted by so many things, and she was also delightful. And like her, I really love people. I really get a kick out of people.

I can tell.

But there’s a kind of thing, if you become recognisable, people become the enemy? And it’s something I have to try and weigh up a little bit. Because people are my favourite thing about the world. I think it’s part of my nature. My dad is pretty sociable too. And so it’s weighing that up, how you keep that going. Because certain parts of that are out of your control: people treat you slightly differently. But this phase, the past four weeks, it still feels so new. Just thinking about legacy and kindness and love and the finite-ness of life. All that stuff.

Big stuff.

Yeah, it’s big stuff. And it’s very interesting, talking about grief. Because it’s not all just low-energy sadness. There’s something galvanising about it as well. I don’t know if you found that, too?

One of the things about someone else dying is it makes you feel alive.

Yes, exactly. Even though we have no choice, it does that. It’s that amazing thing, the year of magical thinking.

[Waiter approaches. Are we ready to order?]

We are.

I think so. Are we two pie guys?

We’re two pie guys!

We’re pretty fly for pie guys.

Are we salad guys? Tomato, fennel and cucumber salad?

Yeah.

And chips, maybe?

Listen, you only live once.

So, the year of magical thinking…

You know, when you’re walking along, are you allowed to have a surge of joy? Or are you allowed to just stay home and… It’s extraordinary when it gets you.

Like a wave of emotion?

I had one on the rowing machine today. I’m glad of it, though.

That was sadness.

Just loss, yeah. Just loss.

So, there’s two ways to do this. You can choose. We can do the usual interview where we start at the beginning with your childhood and go all the way through to now. That’s totally fine. Or, I can throw more random questions at you, and see where that takes us?

Random!

Shall we random it?

Let’s random it.

OK. That means I might sometimes read questions off this piece of paper.

Reading takes just slightly away from the randomness of it, Alex…

That is a very good point. You are quite right. But I don’t read them out in order! They’re just prompts.

[Sardonically] Oh, I see!

Talk me through what you’re wearing.

Oh, this is so old. What does it say?

[I peer at the label on the inside of his shirt collar. It says Hartford.]

What colour would you call that?

I’d call it a bit of a duck egg, Alex, would you?

I’d go with that. And it’s like a…

Like a Henley?

And these [pointing to trousers]?

Mr P trousers. And a pair of old Nikes.

And sports socks.

When I am off duty, I think I dress slightly like an 11-year-old. You know, when you’re just plodding the streets, I wear, like, a hoodie and trainers.

And you have a chain round your neck.

This is a chain that I bought in New York. No, maybe I bought it in Italy. It was a replacement chain. I’ve worn a chain for years. Sometimes I like to have it as a reminder that I’m not working. When you’re in character, you take it off. Because when you’re in a show or a play, they sort of own you. They own your hair.

They own your hair!

Or sometimes you have to walk around with, like, a stupid moustache. Or, worse, chops. Actors fucking hate that. Like, nobody suits that, I don’t think. Right? I’m trying to think of someone who suits that.

Daniel Day Lewis, maybe? He can carry it off.

He’s got the chops for chops!

What’s something about you that you think is typically Irish?

It goes back to that people thing. When I go home to Ireland, I’m aware that people talk to each other a lot more. And I think there’s a sense of humour that Irish people have that I love. And I suppose a softness, too, that I love. Those are the positive things. And then the guilt and the shame is the negative stuff.

Catholic guilt?

Catholic guilt. I feel very strongly, though, that I’ve worked to emancipate myself from it. There’s a certain unthinking-ness to guilt. Your first thought, always: “What have I done wrong? It’s gotta be me.” That doesn’t benefit anyone. And with shame, I don’t feel shame anymore. I think I probably did before. But in a way, it’s an irrelevant thing for me to talk about now. The thing I prefer to talk about is how great it is not to have that anymore. Rather than how horrible it was. The thing I feel enthusiastic about is how there are so many beautiful and different ways to live a life that aren’t centred on the very strict, Catholic, cultural idea of what a good life might be. Namely, 2.4 children and certain ideas and a very specific life.

Are there positives to be taken away from a Catholic education?

The rituals around grief, I think, are really beautiful, having gone through what I’ve just been going through. And the community that you get in Catholicism. Because that’s what Catholicism is about, in some ways: devotion to your community. The amount of love and support you get is to be admired. It’s the organisation that has been the problem, not the values. Random question number 16!

When’s the last time you were horrifically drunk?

Good question! I was in New York doing press recently for Ripley. And I met Paul Mescal. He had a negroni waiting for me. Love a negroni. And then we went dancing.

Are you a good dancer?

I’m pretty good, freestyle. Slow on choreography but once I get it, I’m OK. I love dancing.

I love dancing.

Do you really? Do you do, like, choreographed dancing as well?

No! But I’m a good dancer.

Do you have moves?

Oh, I have moves.

Ha! I love that!

It’s so freeing, so liberating.

It totally is.

And it’s sexy and fun.

Exactly! It’ll get you a kiss at the end of the night.

It’s sort of showing off, too, isn’t it?

But it’s also completely communal. It connects you with people. Also, you can learn so much about someone by watching how they connect with people on a dance floor. How much of communication do they say is non-verbal? An enormous amount.

If you didn’t live in London, where would you most like to live?

I suppose Dublin. I do live a wee bit in Dublin. But one of the things I feel really grateful for is that I have sort of been able to live all over the place. I lived in Italy for a year, during the pandemic.

You were making Ripley?

Yeah, we were all over. Rome, Venice, Capri, Naples… A bit of New York. I’d love to spend more time in New York. I was very lucky recently to have my picture taken by Annie Leibovitz. We were outside the Chelsea Hotel, and this woman came up. [Thick Noo Yawk accent, shouting]: “Hey, Annie! Why don’t you take a picture of this dumpster? It’s been outside my block for two months! Take a picture of that!” There’s something about that New York-iness that I love. It still has such romance for me.

How old do you feel?

Really young. I don’t have an exact age for you. Thirties?

Some people feel in touch with their childhood selves, or almost unchanged from adolescence. Others seem to have been born an adult.

That’s really true. I think of playgrounds for children: you’re actively encouraged to play, as a kid. “Go out and play!” And I hate that at some point, maybe in your mid-twenties, someone goes, “Now, don’t play! Now, know everything. Now, turn on the television, acquire a mortgage and tell people what you know.” I have to play for a living. It’s so important, not just in your job, but in life. It’s a great pleasure of life, if you can hold on to that. Talking about my mum again, she had an amazing sense of fun.

She was a funny person? She made people laugh?

Absolutely.

That’s important, isn’t it?

It’s really important. I think having a sense of humour is one of the most important things in life. It’s such a tool. And you can develop it. My family were all funny. Laughter was a currency in our family. Humour is a magic weapon. It separates us from the other species. Like, I love my dog. I think dogs are amazing. And he can have fun, but he’s not able to go, “This is fucking ridiculous.” He’s not able to do that! So it’s a real signifier of your humanity, in some ways.

Also, being a funny person, or someone who can connect with people through humour, that’s how we make friends.

I think actors make really good friends. Because you’re in the empathy game. And because you’re making the decision to go into an industry that is really tough, you need to have your priorities straight: “I know this is tough, I know the chances of me succeeding in it are slim, but I’m going to go in anyway.” It shows a sort of self-possession that I think is a wonderful thing to have in a friend. Also, actors are just funny. And a lot of them are sexy!

Funny and sexy: good combination.

I know! Not that you want all your friends to be sexy, that’s not how you should choose your friends.

Oh, I don’t know. It’s not the worst idea.

It’s not. But I think it’s something to do with empathy. And it’s a troupe mentality as well. You’re good in groups.

It’s a gang.

I love a gang. Do you like a gang?

I do. Magazines are like that. A good magazine is a team, a great magazine is a gang. And the thing we produce is only part of it: you put it out there and people make of it what they will. The process of making it is the thing, for me.

Oh, my God. That’s something I feel more and more. Process is as important as product. I really believe that. You can have an extraordinary product, but if it was an absolute nightmare to make then, ultimately, that’s what you’re going to remember about it. You make good things that are successful that everybody loves? That’s lovely. But also, you make stuff that people don’t respond to. So, if you have a good time in the process, and the attempt is a valiant one, and there’s a good atmosphere, if it’s kind and fun, that’s the stuff you hold on to. One of the reasons I love the theatre is you don’t have to see the product. You just do it, and then it’s done. It’s an art form that is ephemeral. There’s a big liberation, too, in discovering you don’t have to watch any of your films if you don’t want to.

Have you watched Ripley?

I watched Ripley once.

And?

It’s a lot of me in it! Jesus!

Is that a problem?

I find it hard to watch myself. I do. There’s something quite stressful about looking at yourself. Have you ever heard yourself on someone’s answering machine? Horrific! You’re like, “Oh, my God, that can’t be me. How do they let me out in the day?” It’s like that, and then it’s your big, stupid face as well. Mostly, I have a feeling of overwhelming embarrassment.

On a cinema screen, I can’t even imagine. Your face the size of a house!

The size of a house, and there’s 400 people watching you.

Nature did not intend humans to ever experience this.

That is so true. It’s not natural.

I mean, even mirrors are to be avoided.

Maybe looking in the sea is the only natural way?

Well, Narcissus!

Yeah, true. That didn’t turn out well. I’d love for that to be a tagline for a movie, though: “Nature did not intend humans to ever experience this…”

But equally, nature didn’t intend the rest of us to gaze upon you in quite that way. We sit in the dark, staring up worshipfully at this giant image of you projected on a screen for hours. Is that healthy?

Without talking about the purity of theatre again, when you’re in the theatre, you, as the audience, see someone walking on the stage, and technically you could go up there, too. There’s not that remove. It’s live. There’s a real intimacy. That’s why I feel it’s the real actor’s medium. Your job is to create an atmosphere. I always find it insanely moving, even still, that adults go into the dark and say, “I know this is fake, but I don’t care: tell me a story.” And they gasp, and they cry, or they’re rolling around the aisles laughing. It’s so extraordinary, so wonderful that it exists. I really do believe in the arts as a human need. I believe in it so deeply. During the pandemic, our first question to each other was, “What are you watching? What book are you reading?” Just to get through it, to survive. It’s not just some sort of frivolous thing. It’s a necessity. As human beings, we tell stories. Expert storytellers are really vital. No, it’s not brain surgery. But, “Hearts starve as well as bodies. Give us bread, but give us roses.” I love that quote.

Tell me about playing Hamlet. Was it what you expected it would be?

It’s extraordinary. Loads of different reasons why. From an acting point of view, there’s no part of you that isn’t being used. So you have to, first of all, have enormous physical stamina, because it’s nearly four hours long. Our version was three hours, 50 minutes. And you have to be a comedian, you have to be a soldier, you have to be a prince, you have to be the romantic hero, you have to be the sorrowful son, you have to understand the rhythm of the language, you have to be able to hit the back of the auditorium — there are just so many things about it that require all those muscles to be exercised. You know, it’s so funny that we’re talking about this today. Because at the beginning of Hamlet, it’s two months since his dad died. His mother has already remarried, to his uncle! What are they doing? I mean the idea that next month my dad might marry someone else is so extraordinary! So, Hamlet’s not mad. Of course he would wear black clothes and be a bit moody. The more interesting question [than whether or not Hamlet is mad] is, who was he before? I think he’s incredibly funny. It’s a really funny play, Hamlet. And it’s a funny play that deals in life and death: the undiscovered country from which no traveller returns. It’s about what it is to be human. And what it’s like to be human is funny, and sad. The language is so incredibly beautiful and it’s also incredibly actable. And it’s also a thriller.

And a ghost story. It’s supernatural.

It’s a supernatural ghost story. And because the character is so well-rounded, I always think of it like a vessel into which you can pour any actor or actress. So, your version, the bits you would respond to if you were playing Hamlet, would be completely different to mine or anyone else’s. It can embrace so many kinds of actors. So Richard Burton can play it or Ben Whishaw can play it or Ruth Negga can play it or I can play it, and it’s going to bring out completely different sides. Did you do much Shakespeare at school?

I did. I studied Hamlet.

I remember Mark Rylance said…

[The waiter arrives with our pies and we both take a moment to admire them before breaking the crusts… The following passages are occasionally hard to make out due to enthusiastic chewing.]

You were about to say something about Mark Rylance. I saw his Hamlet in… must have been 1989, when I was doing my A-levels. He did it in his pyjamas.

I’ve heard. He came to see [my] Hamlet. He said, you feel like you’re on a level with it, and then in week four, you plummet through the layers of the floor and you’re on a deeper level. He was exactly right. Something happens. It’s just got depth.

Does it change you? Do you learn something new about yourself, as an actor?

I think because it’s such a tall order for an actor, it’s sort of like you feel you can do anything after that. Like, at least this is not as hard as Hamlet. You know you have those muscles now. We transferred it from The Almeida on to the West End. So, we did it loads of times. That’s a big achievement.

How many times did you play him?

One hundred and fifty. Twice on a Wednesday, twice on a Saturday. Eight hours [on those days]. Even just for your voice, it’s a lot.

We keep coming back to theatre. Is that because you prefer it?

It goes directly into your veins. It’s pure. You start at the beginning of the story and you go through to the end. When you’re making a movie, it’s a different process. Your imagination is constantly interrupted. You do something for two minutes and then someone comes in and goes, “OK, now we’re going to do Alex’s close-up, so you go back to your trailer and we’re going to set up all the lights and make sure that window across the street is properly lit.” And that’s another 20 minutes, and then you try to get back into the conversation we’ve just been having… And so the impetus is a different one.

The Hot Priest…

What’s that?

Ha! I watched Fleabag again, last week. It’s so good. But The Hot Priest, he’s a coward. He gets a chance at happiness with the love of his life and he doesn’t take it.

Well, not to judge my character, but I suppose there’s an argument that he does choose love. He chooses God. That’s the great love of his life. Whatever his spirituality has given him, he has to choose that. Is there a way that they could have made that [relationship] work? Of course there is. We’re seeing it from Fleabag’s point of view, literally, so of course it feels awful [that Fleabag and the Priest can’t be together]. But I think we understand it, the thing that is not often represented on screen but which an awful lot of people have, which is the experience of having a massive connection with somebody, a real love, that doesn’t last forever. I think somebody watching that can think, “I have my version of that. And I know that I loved that person, but I also know why we couldn’t be together.” And that doesn’t mean those relationships are any less significant. It just means that they are impossible to make work on a practical level. Not all love stories end the same way.

Annie Hall.

There you go! La La Land. Love that movie.

The Hot Priest is damaged. There’s a darkness there. Journalists interviewing actors look at the body of work and try to find through lines that we can use to create a narrative. It’s often a false narrative, I know that. However, that’s what we’re here for! Let’s take Hamlet, and the Priest, and Adam from All of Us Strangers, and, I guess, Vanya himself, even Moriarty. These are not happy-go-lucky guys. Ripley! These men seem lost, lonely, sad. Is it ridiculous to suggest that there’s something in you that draws you to these characters — or is it a coincidence?

That’s a really good question. I think it can’t be a coincidence. Like, even when you said “happy-go-lucky”, right? My immediate instinct is to say, “Show me this happy-go-lucky person.” With a different prism on this person, there would be a part of him that’s not happy-go-lucky, because that’s the way human beings are. If we could think now of a part that’s the opposite of the kind of part [he typically plays], a happy-go-lucky character…

How about the kinds of roles that Hugh Grant plays in those rom-coms? Yeah, the character might be a little bit repressed, a bit awkward at first, but basically everything’s cool, then he meets a beautiful woman, it doesn’t work out for about five minutes, and then it does. The end.

[Chuckles] OK, yeah. I’d love to have a go at that.

Wouldn’t you like to do that?

I would! I really would.

Why haven’t you?

I don’t know! It’s weird. That is something I would really love to do. Because I love those films. There’s a joy to them. It’s something I would love to embrace now. When I was growing up, as a young actor, I did want to play the darkness. With Moriarty, I was like, “I’ve got this in me and I’d like to express it.” And, conversely, now I think the opposite. I know that’s a little bit ironic, given I’ve just played Tom Ripley. Ha! But I have just played it, and I have spent a lot of time in characters that are isolated. And I was in a play [Vanya] that was one person. I don’t feel sad doing those things. It’s cathartic. But I would love the idea of doing something different.

Also, you don’t strike me as a person who is especially morose.

No! No, no, no. I’m not. But again, we all contain multitudes. My mother’s legacy was so joyful. Not that she didn’t have her soulful moments, because of course she did. I mean this as the opposite of morbidity, but it doesn’t end well for any of us, it really doesn’t. So bathing in the murkier waters, it’s wonderful to be able to explore that side of you, but also the opposite is true, the idea of joy and fun and lightness is something I’m definitely interested in. Like a musical! I’d love to be in a musical. I’ve just done a cameo in a comedy that I can’t talk about yet. It was just a day, with someone I really love, and it just lifted me up. But of course, there’s the stuff that people associate you with, and that’s what brings you to the table.

You played a baddie really well, so you get more baddies.

Yeah. You have to be quite ferocious about that. You have to go, “Oh, wow, that really is a great film-maker, that’s a lovely opportunity…” But how much time do you have left and what do you want to put out to the world? I feel like I want to be able to manifest what I have within me now. That’s a wonderful thing to be able to do. It’s such a privilege. And I feel so grateful for the opportunities I’ve been given. But why not get out of the hay barn and play in the hay?

Ripley has been well received. Do you read reviews?

I read some of them.

Why?

I’m interested in the audience. You know when people say, “You should never care about what other people think?” Of course I care what people think.

Ripley is excellent, but it’s quite gruelling to watch. Was it gruelling to make?

Yeah.

Because you have to inhabit this deeply unhappy person?

Maybe not unhappy. But very isolated, I think that’s key. It was hard. There was a huge amount of actual acting. Doing 12-hour days for almost a year. I’m not necessarily convinced you should act that much.

Ripley is himself an actor. He puts on other people’s identities because he doesn’t like his own. He doesn’t like himself. Some people think actors are people who don’t like themselves so you pretend to be other people, assume other identities. Or maybe it’s that actors are hollow shells. When you’re not acting, there’s no one there. No you. Sorry to be rude.

No, it’s not rude at all. I totally understand it. But I find it to be completely the opposite of what I’ve learnt. The essence of acting, for me, the great catharsis of it, is that you’re not pretending to be somebody else, you’re exploring different sides of yourself. You’re going, who would I be in these circumstances? Some of the darkest, most unhappy people I know are the people who say, “I don’t have an angry bone in my body.” Then why do I feel so tense around you? People who have no anger… I remember I used to have it with some religious people when I was growing up. People proclaiming that they’re happy or good or kind, that does not necessarily mean that they are happy or good or kind. That’s the brand they’re selling. I’ve always liked that expression: “fame is the mask that eats into the face.” How do you keep a healthy life when you’re pretending to be other people? You do it by going, “I’m going to admit I have a dark side.” It’s much healthier to shout at a fictional character in a swimming pool [as Moriarty does in Sherlock] than it is to be rude to a waiter in a restaurant, in real life.

You find that therapeutic?

Yes, you’re still expressing that anger. I think it is therapeutic.

So playing Tom Ripley every day for a year, were you able to exorcise something, or work through something?

Well, that’s why I found Tom Ripley quite difficult. He’s hard to know, and a harder character to love. If you think of Adam in All of Us Strangers, you go, “OK, I understand what your pain is.” What I understand with Tom, the essence of that character, is that he’s somebody who has a big chasm that is unknowable, perhaps even to himself. We’re all a little bit like that, we’re all sometimes mysterious to ourselves — “I don’t know why I did that…” — but to have empathy for someone like that is difficult. You know the boy in your class who gets bullied, and it’s awful, and you try and understand it but he doesn’t make it easier for himself? That’s the way I feel about Tom Ripley. It’s a thorny relationship. Your first job as an actor is to advocate for the character. That’s why I hate him being described as a psychopath. Everyone else can say what they like about him, but I have to be like, ‘Maybe he’s just… hangry?’ So you have to try and empathise, try and understand. When we call people who do terrible things monsters — “This evil monster!” — I think that’s a way of absenting yourself from that darkness. Because it’s not a monster. It’s a human being that did this. You can’t look away from the fact that human beings, sometimes for completely unknowable reasons, do terrible things. And that’s why it’s interesting when people talk about Tom Ripley. They say, “Have you ever met a Tom Ripley type?” The reason the character is so enduring is because there’s Tom Ripley in all of us. That’s why we kind of want him to get away with it. That’s [Highsmith’s] singular achievement, I think.

I find reading the Ripley books quite unpleasant. It’s a world I really don’t want to spend any time in. I read two of them preparing for this. She’s a great writer, but they’re horrible characters; it’s a depressing world.

I agree. That’s what I found most challenging. Where is the beating heart here? How much time do I want to spend here? And when you do, well, it took its toll. It did make me question how much time I want to spend with that character, absolutely. That’s the truth.

The way you play him, he’s very controlled. You didn’t play him big.

I think it’s important to offer up difference facets of the character to the director and he chooses the ones he feels marry to his vision. And those are the ones [Steven Zaillian] chose. And he executed those expertly.

Are you a member of any clubs?

Yeah, I’m a member of the Mile High Club. No, no…

That’ll do nicely.

OK, that’s my answer.

What’s your earliest memory?

Do they still have, I think it’s called a play pen?

Sort of like tiny little jails for toddlers? What a good idea they were!

I remember being massively happy in it. My mother used to say she just used to fling me in that thing and give me random kitchen utensils. I don’t know, like a spoon. I’ve always been quite good in my own company. I really remember being left to my own imagination and being very happy.

Do you live alone now?

Yeah.

Is that not lonely?

Of course I’ve experienced that but, ultimately, no. I don’t know if that’s the way I’m going to be for the rest of my life. But I certainly don’t feel lonely. I’ve got so much love in my life.

Would it be OK if you lived alone for the rest of your life?

Yeah. It would be OK. One of my great heroes is Esther Perel.

I don’t know who that is.

Esther Perel. She’s a sort of love and relationships expert, a therapist, and she’s a writer. A real hero, I think you’d really dig her. She talks about relationships and the mythology around them. The difference between safety and freedom. She talks with real compassion about both men and women; she talks about this idea of what we think we want, and what we really want. And how there’s only one prototype for a successful life, really, or a successful relationship. Which is: you meet somebody, da-da-da, you fall in love, da-da-da, you have kids, da-da-da. And that prototype just can’t suit every person in the world. There are some people who live in the world who might see their partner every second Tuesday and that suits them. And to be able to understand and communicate your own preference at any given time is really the aim. To be able to say, “At the moment I’m happy in the way I am, but maybe at some point…” I’ve lived with people before, and maybe I will again, but at the moment it feels right to sort of keep it fluid.

The difficulty, of course, with relationships, is there’s another person with their own preferences. Maybe you’re OK with every second Tuesday, but they need Thursdays and Fridays, too…

But isn’t that the beauty of love? That you construct something, like a blanket. You stitch all these things together. One of the things about being gay and having a life that ultimately is slightly different from the majority of people’s, is you learn that you can create your own way of living, that is different and wonderful. A homosexual relationship doesn’t necessarily have to ape what a heterosexual relationship is. That’s a very important thing to acknowledge. I mean, of course, if you want to do that, that’s brilliant. But you don’t have to. To me, the worst thing is to be dishonest or uncommunicative or unhappy or joyless in a relationship. It’s much more important to be able to have a difficult conversation or a brave conversation about how you feel or what you want. So many of my gay friends, I feel very proud of them, really admiring of the fact we have these conversations. It seems very adult and very loving to be able to acknowledge that the difference between safety and freedom can be real torture for some people. How do I love somebody, and still keep my own sense of autonomy and adventure? That’s a real problem. That’s what Esther Perel says. It’s one of the biggest causes of the demise of a relationship. That people coast along, they can’t have that conversation, and then the whole bottom falls out of the boat.

I wasn’t necessarily going to ask you about being gay. One tries to avoid labelling you as “gay actor Andrew Scott” instead of “actor Andrew Scott, who happens to be gay”. But since we’re talking about it already: because you’re famous, you become a de facto spokesperson for gay people. People look to you for the “gay opinion.” Are you OK with that?

I’ll tell you my thoughts on that. If I talk about it in every interview, it sounds like I want to talk about it in every interview. And, of course, I’m asked about it in most interviews, so I’m going to answer it because I’m not ashamed of it. But sometimes I think the more progressive thing to do is what you’re saying: to not talk about it and hopefully for people to realise that if you had to go into work every single day and they said, “Hey, Alex! Still straight? How’s that going?”… I mean, being gay is not even particularly interesting, any more than being straight is. But I understand, and I’m happy to talk about it. I suppose it depends on the scenario. I just don’t want to ever give the impression that it isn’t a source of huge joy in my life. And at this stage in my life, rather than talk about how painful it might have been or the shame, or not getting cast in things [because of it], actually, I’m so proud of the fact that I’m able to play all these different parts and, hopefully, in some ways it demystifies it and makes people — not just gay people, but all people — go, “Oh, yeah, that’s great that it’s represented in the world, but being gay is not your number-one attribute.” The problem is it becomes your schtick. Frankly, I feel like I’ve got just a bit more to offer than that.

Two reasons I think you get asked about being gay. One is just prurience �� you’re famous and we want to know who you’re shagging — and the other is that identity politics is such an obsession, and so polarising, and we hope you’ll say something controversial.

I think that’s right, I think that’s what it is. But sometimes people think there’s just one answer, in 15 characters or less. That’s something I resist, slightly.

All of Us Strangers is about loads of things, about grief, love, loneliness, but it’s also very specifically about being gay. To me, anyway.

Yes, it is.

I thought, in particular, that the scene with Claire Foy, where your character comes out to his mother, was incredibly moving.

Isn’t it extraordinary, though, that you, who is not a gay person, could find that so moving? There’s no way you’d find that moving if it was only about being gay. I always say that coming out has nothing to do with sex. When you’re talking to your parent, you’re not thinking, “Oh, this is making me feel a bit frisky.” Anyone can understand that this is about somebody who has something within them — in this case, it’s about sexuality — that he hopes is not going to be the reason that his parents don’t speak to him anymore. And I think we all have that: “I hope you still love me.” And the great pleasure about All of Us Strangers is that it’s reached not just a particular type of audience, but all types of people. And I love they’re able to market it to everyone. Usually they do this weird thing where they pretend the film’s not gay…

Right. There would be a picture of a woman on the poster.

Exactly. Someone who’s playing the neighbour! But now you’re able to market a film with Paul [Mescal] and I, and the fact is that that’s going to sell tickets. I know there’s a long way to go, but that is progression. Before, that wasn’t the case. This time, no one gave a fuck. Nothing bad happened. The world didn’t explode. Family didn’t collapse.

Identity politics question: there’s an opinion now frequently expressed that gay people ought to be played by gay actors, and so on. What are your thoughts on that?

The way I look at it, if somebody was to make a film about my life — it’d be quite a weird film — would I want only gay actors to be auditioned to play me? I would say that I’m more than my sexuality. But there might be another gay person who feels that’s incredibly important to who they are and how they would like to be represented on film. How do we balance that? I don’t know. I don’t have an easy answer on that. I think it’s a case-by-case thing.

You’ve played straight people and gay people. You’re Irish but you’ve played English people and American people. I would hope you would be able to continue doing that.

The question I suppose is opportunity, and who gets it. It was very frustrating to me, when I was growing up, that there were no gay actors.

Well, there were lots of gay actors…

But not “out” gay actors. Now there are more. Representation is so important. So I think it’s complicated, and nuanced. And talking about it in a general way rather than a specific way is not always helpful. It depends which film we are talking about. Which actor.

You were spared the curse of instant mega-fame, aged 22. Would you have handled that well?

No. I think all that scrutiny and opinion, it’s a lot. Now I’m able to look at a bad review or somebody saying something really horrible about the way I look, or even someone saying really nice things about that, and go [shrugs]. Before, when that happened, it was devastating. But I survived and it was fine, and I got another job and I was able to kiss someone at a disco, so… Whereas if you’re 22 and you don’t have that experience behind you, you go, “Oh, my God. This is horrible, what do I do?” And also, there’s much more scrutiny now, so much more. I think that must be really hard. Social media is a crazy thing, isn’t it?

I think it’s a horrible thing, on the whole.

That thing you were saying about cinema, about how it’s not natural to see yourself, or other people like that… The amount of information that we’re supposed to absorb and process? Wow. You wake up in the morning and you’re already looking at it.

They used to say that the fame of TV actors was of a different order because they are in your home. People felt they knew the stars of Coronation Street in a much more intimate way, while movie stars, Cary Grant or whoever, these were much more remote, almost mythical creatures. People who are famous on Instagram or TikTok are in the palm of your hand talking to you all day.

And it’s so interesting what people on social media choose to tell you about their lives, even when nobody’s asking them any questions. Like, is that person insane? It’s a very dangerous thing. I find it troubling.

Do you think things are getting better or are they getting worse?

That’s such a good question. I have to believe they’re getting better. I don’t know what that says about me.

It says you’re an optimist.

I think I am an optimist.

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever put in your mouth?

Fucking hell. Do you know what I don’t like? Any food that you don’t have to put any effort into eating.

Give me an example.

Custard.

Yes!

I don’t mind ice cream, because it’s got a bit of texture. But I don’t like mashed potato. I don’t like creamed potatoes, or creamed anything.

Risotto?

Absolutely borderline. So if it’s got a little bite to it, it’s OK. But baby food. Ugh! Makes me feel a bit sick.

What’s your favourite of your own body parts?

Ahahah! What do I like? What have we got? I don’t mind my nose? My eyes are OK. Like, my eyes are definitely expressive, God knows. Fucking hell. I remember I was in rehearsal once, and the director said, “Andrew, I just don’t know what you’re thinking.” And the whole company started to laugh. They were like “You don’t? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Because I think I’ve got quite a readable face.

Which is a tool for an actor, right?

It can be a tool for an actor. But you have to learn what your face does, as an actor. On film, your thoughts really are picked up.

What’s your favourite body part that belongs to someone else?

I like hands. And I like teeth. Someone with a nice smile.

Are you similar to your dad?

Yeah, I am. He’s pretty soft-natured, which I think I am, to a degree. He likes fun, too. And he likes people. He’s good at talking to people. He’s kind of sensitive, emotional. He’s a lovely man, a very dutiful dad to us, very loyal.

Would you miss the attention if your fame disappeared overnight?

I definitely think I would miss an audience, if that’s what you mean. The ability to tell a story in front of an audience, I’d miss that. Not to have that outlet.

Before you got famous, you were having a pretty decent career, working with good people, getting interesting parts. Would it have been OK to just carry on being that guy, under the radar?

Oh, my God, yes. Absolutely.

Would you have preferred that to the fame?

The thing is, what it affords you is the opportunity to be cast in really good stuff. You get better roles, particularly on screen. And I’m quite lucky. I have a manageable amount of fame, for the most part.

Some people are born for fame. They love it. They’re flowers to the sun. Others should never have become famous. They can’t handle it. You’ve found you’re OK with it.

Do you know what I feel? I feel, if I was in something I didn’t like, if I was getting lots of attention for something I didn’t feel was representative of me, I think I’d feel quite differently. I feel very relaxed, doing this interview with you today. I feel like, whatever you’re going to ask me, I would feel self-possessed enough to say, “Alex, do you mind if we don’t talk about that?”

Shall we leave it there, then?

Thank you. That was lovely.'

[depressedacadamia]

Drunken Dares

Prompt + paring: Tattoo Parlour au, ‘night’ + Solangelo 

A/N:  Hellooo- i had the choice between a tattoo parlour au or a flowershop au but I'm already writing a pjo flowershop au so I thought I'd spice it up with a tattoo parlour au! I kinda wanted there to be a part two becuase I wanted a bit of bonding between the two so maybe if i remember, that may happen? Anyway- enjoy  <3 from phi phi!

Read on A03         Writersmonth 2021       Masterlist

“Do I really have to do this?” Will groaned slightly. It was late at night and here Meg was, pushing him in a tattoo parlour.

“Yep!” She hummed as she pushed him forward.He tripped over his own foot as he flung through the double doors. He was about to continue reluctantly before realising the short minion who had forced him here was no longer by his side.

He turned around and frowned. “ Meg? Why aren’t you coming in?”

“I’m underage,” She hummed.

“You know you can just stand to the side?” Will asked, a slightly desperate undettone to his statement which Meg noticed. He was begging her not to leave him in the scary dark tattoo parlour which was full of buff, scary people.

“Sorry- but I must not break the law!”

“Last week you happily started trying to drive my car!” Will yelled at the glass doors. Alas, his yells were ignored as Meg blissfully ignored him as she continued her walk home, leaving William Andrew Solace in a tattoo parlour.

What was he meant to do?Walk up to the guy at the counter and tell him that he wanted a tattoo? He should have never gotten drunk and played truth or dare- he should have known that the first thing Leo would dare him would be to taint his beautiful freckled skin. The worst part ultimately was the fact that he had to get it on his chest.

Perhaps the gods above saw Will’s freak out or perhaps Leo was simply being extra nice when he saw Will in the middle of the parlour looking so out of place it was painful but either way, the next thing Will knew, he was being taken by the wrist towards the counter by none other than Leonidas Valdez; the very bastard who had gotten him into this mess.

“I’m surprised you actually came,” Leo commented.

“Meg forced me,” Will grunted.

“So,” Leo sighed as he tapped at the cigarette in between his fingers, “ Do you know what you’re getting?”

“Uhh… no, not really., How does this work? You tell them what you want and then they stab at your body with a needle?”

Leo let out a small scoff which had smoke billowing out of his lips and nose as if he was a chimney. “ No, darling- they shave, sanitise and then they stab at your body with a needle.”

“That made me feel so much better.”

Ignoring the evident sarcasm, Leo simply smiled. “ You’re welcome, blondie.”

Wil, ruffling at his hair, mumbled, “Shut up.”

Leo, who was significantly enjoying teasing Will, was cut off by Piper- one of the last people Will expected to see at the tattoo parlor. But on a second look, the tattoos on her abdomen spiraling up to her breasts and arms made Will wonder why he never noticed them.

“Oh Will- you’re actually here?” Piper's surprised voice rang out.

“Unfortunately.”

“Well the artist is ready for you,” Piper ushered him towards the dark room, only illuminated by the UV lights.

Will visibly gulped. Leo and Piper couldn’t help but interlock eyes and snort a little- after all, it was simply adorable at how nervous this newbire was.

Will took small steps and the second he passed the door, it slammed shut.

What the fuck- do the doors here have a mind of their own?

“Come in- take a seat,” A voice commanded. Will, who didn’t really have any choice but to listen to what he was being told, fumbled around, trying to figure out where he was meant to be going. It seemed that Will, in his internal chaos, did not notice the tattoo artist's leg propped up to the side and therefore, when Will finally did notice the leg- it had been the hard way.

He tripped and the next thing he knew, his wrist had made a new best friend. Bruised and swollen, Will’s wrist heavily ached- forcing him to let out a small groan of pain.

“Fuck, are you okay?” the voice rang out. Will heard a relative amount of fumbling and heavy footsteps and suddenly the room was flooded with light.

The face that he was met with was not one he was expecting. The boy had mid length hair- while it wasn’t really long, it was flowing over the nape of his neck slightly and it looked like it really got in the way of his eyes. He watched as the boy seperated the pieces of hair covering his eyes, creating an effortless look.

His face radiated an emotion that Will couldn’t describe- sadness? Or was it simply the face of someone who was content with little?

“Are you okay?” The man asked. Will watched- he had never seen such dynamic expressions and the way this man's face morphed into an expression of concern had him wrapt with all.

Will could only nod stupidly, his hand still clutching at his bruised wrist.

“Dya mind if I have a look at that anyway?” The artist insisted as he grabbed a med kit and sat on his spinning chair before wheeling himself towards Will who now sat on the chair that he was originally appointed.

He gently cradled Will’s wrist between his fingers, turning it round and round. His face contorted between emotion of worry and concern.

“It’s okay,” Will re-assured . “ It’s not sprained or broken, just a bit of bruising and swelling. Should be gone by tomorrow morning.”

“You sure?”

“I’m a doctor.”

“Ah,” He smiled slightly. “ I shouldn’t question you, Dr..?”

“Solace- but Will is fine. How about you?”

“Nico- Now let's have a look at what you want huh?” He closed the notebook he had been creating designs in before Will walked in and pulled out a collection of the most popular designs so far.

“These are the trending ones currently but I can always pull out something else if you want. Or if you have your own design that you wanted, I can try with it,” Nico offered. He pulled out a cigarette and flicked his lighter.- once, twice and a third time before grunting and pulling out a different one. Will watched, hypnotized, as Nico lit the cigarette.

Nico looked up and caught Will staring and shyly asked. “ You don’t mind do you?”

“No… but you should try and refrain from smoking. It’s really, really bad for you and I say this as a doctor.”

“You’re the 4th person today who has said that.”

“I’m alarmed that you managed to smoke that many times today,” Will said with concern.

Ignoring what Will had said, Nico continued. “Anyway, have you chosen anything yet?”

Will let out a heavy breath. “ Ah, no. My friends kinda forced me here but nothing here really matches… me.”

“What about this flower? Or the skull? “

Will shrugged. “ I don't think I’d want those on my skin permanently”

Nico nodded and continued smoking, while Will flipped through the latest designs. Nothing seemed to catch his eye as much as something he could have sworn he saw earlier. It was a stylised sun tatoo- nothing necessarily special but it reminded him of his mum- and his home.

“Excuse me,” Wil started, causing Nico to put his cigarette down in the ashtray, “ I was just wondering if the designs in that were available?”

Will pointed to the notebook That Nico had closed earlier. He watched as Nico hesitated. His face seemed to be stuck between wanting to let Will sneak a peek but it also seemed to want to tell him to stop.

However, his hand simply made up his mind and shoved the book across the table in Will’s direction.

Daintily, with the utmost care, Will opened the first page and his eyes almost watered at the immense detail and beauty poured into these designs. It looked like the heart and soul of the artist had been etched into every little petal, every small ray and eventually after gaping at each page he found the design he had spotted earlier.

The sun wasn’t special but it held Will’s eyes so much that Nico told him, “ Close your mouth. You’re practically drooling.”

“This one,” Will pointed to the stylised sun, “ I want this one.”

Nico scanned his eyes over it before humming and nodding. He put out his cigarette and got up.

“Where d'ya want it?”

“Chest- left side,” Will blurted out. He didn’t know why he wanted it there- perhaps because he wanted the thing that reminded him of his mother to be as close to his heart as possible.

Nico nodded as he prepared everything. Then he turned to Will. “ You realise you’ll need to take off your shirt?”

Will blushed and looked away as he started unbuttoning the top of his shirt. Meg had dragged him out of the hospital as soon as his shift had ended and thrown him into the tattoo parlour and therefore he was still wearing a crisp white shirt.

“Do I need to take off the whole thing?”

Nico took a quick look at Will. The sight that met his eyes was surprising- he used to seeing the chest of his clients but for some reason the sight of a very attractive and intelligent young man before him was very different. He seemed to be looking away as a blush graced his cheeks and ears. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough for Nico to see Will’s muscled chest.

How did a doctor have enough time to work out like that?

“Uh... just a bit more, I don’t want the needle to catch on the side of your shirt.” Nico reiterated, even though he was lying.

“Okay, so now, I'm just going to clean the area and then I’ll trace the sketch before tattooing it on. Do you want red or black?”

“Uh- you can choose,” Will sighed, desperate to get it done and over with.

Nico nodded. He slipped on some gloves and wiped at Will’s chest with an antiseptic. Will flinched at the cold wipe and the soft touch of the artist before him .

“Sorry,” Will murmured, “ It’s cold.”

Nico simply nodded as he began sketching the outline of the tattoo. Will tipped his head back, unable to meet the eyes of Nico ro even look at what was happening. He could feel the tickly touch of the pen on his skin and the soft brush of Nico’s glove on his skin every once in a while.

“All done. Now for the painful part. You may feel like you’re getting stung by a bee a lot,” Nico warned. “Try not move a lot, it will make it harder for me.”

Will, who couldn’t formulate words at this point, simply nodded. “I’d let you squeeze my hand, but unfortunately- I need both,” Nico smiled as reassurance.

He heard the buzzing of the gun and braced himself. The needle poked and prodded as he expected and at times he did wish he had stolen some morphine from the hospital beforehand but all in all, he managed to get the tattoo without bursting into tears and without ruining hids tattoo.

“All done,'' Nico said as he covered the tattoo.

“When do I get to see it?” Will asked, curiously, happier that it was over.

“In a few days- it just needs to sink in.”

Wil sat there, unsure of what to do next. He had paid and was now just sitting in an empty room with his tattoo artist. Was he meant to just say goodbye? Wasn't that kind of harsh?

But Will realised, had this been anybody else or any other appointment- he wouldn't want to be staying for any extra time. Did he want to be friends with this guy? Maybe it was that- yes, it would be that. As someone who was socially awkward, Will knew that he liked hanging out with people; he simply wasn't very good at it

Just as he was going to ask for his number, Nico passed him a slip of paper. “ Here’s my number. Call me when you’re free.”

With that and a wink, Will was left in the empty tattoo room.

[funfickgirl22]

The acts of kindness.

Henry Cavill x Single Mother / Reader

words: 943

previous chapter: The Lawyer.

Mr. Barber rang you on early Saturday morning and arranged the meeting with you on Monday a week after. You were glad Henry helped you with the custody case. You didn’t know how you're ever going to re-pay him. Since that horrible day when you have received the letter from your ex-husband, you couldn’t sleep. Henry was waking up to calm you down, but then when he needed to leave to work, you couldn't sleep without him. You have officially moved to Henry's house. Henry insisted on moving you in as soon as possible, giving you the physical and emotional support that you really needed, especially after the paparazzi discovered your identity.  

Even though you were under big stress, you wanted to cherish and celebrate this moment of moving in together as it was one of the big steps in your relationship. You didn’t have much money so you decided to do the small acts of kindness to Henry, showing him love and adoration. You have started with smiley faces on his pancakes for the breakfast, placing printouts of funny memes into his wallet, always making sure he has clean t-shirts and snacks when he is going to work.  

Henry was over the moon that you and your son had finally moved in. You brought the best of him every day, you kept him sane. He finally has something to come back home to. Henry could see the dark circles under your eyes. He really wanted to do something for you, which will bring a peace and smile to your face. These small acts of kindness you are doing every day? His heart melted, and he even cried once when he found the love letter from you during his lunch break.  

It was Monday and time to meet Andrew Barber. You were glad that the time has come to discuss a case and get some clarity on what might be expected. The meeting was arranged at the small French café, hoping it won’t be crowded and no one will take a picture of Henry. You have arrived with Henry a few minutes early surprised, Andy was already waiting for you. Andy greed you with a warm smile kissing your hand like an old gentleman. You felt your cheeks burning. Henry didn’t notice your redness only laughed and told Andy:  

“Forget it man, she is mine.”    

You ordered your drinks and started a meeting. Everything was straightforward, there is no reason why the judge would give custody of your son to your ex-husband. Even though there is 80% that you will win, it is still a stressful situation to go to court and be interviewed like you were a criminal. The meeting has ended, Henry excused himself to go to the bar and pay for the drinks. Andy quickly pulled out a business card with his private phone number from his wallet and handed it over to you. He kept the little card longer in his hand, didn’t want to release it, making you look at him.  

“You are an extraordinary woman Y/N. Please keep my number. Whatever will happen, even after the case, please know, you can come to me for help. I will take care of you. “  

After his statement, Andy let you take the card. You felt uncomfortable after these words. This is the last thing you need now- a new admirer. You thank him and left to see Henry.  

The drive home was quiet. You were very tired, was dreaming about the bed. Henry noticed this and came up with a brilliant idea. Just a mile from your home, he took a different turn and drove in an unknown direction.  

You looked at him, and he had a mischievous smile.  

“Relax love, I want to show you something.” You nodded and smile for the first time in over a week.    

Henry parked in front of the old Christmas tree farm, which is now converted into a fair. He hoped that the memory of your first meeting will bring you joy.      

You were at the edge of happy tears. Your man can always read you like a book and come up with ideas to comfort you when you really need it.    

You gave him a peck on his lips and place a fake glasses on his nose, so he can be undercover.      

“Thank you for bringing me here Hen, it’s a perfect date.”        

Henry responded with another kiss, a more passionate one. After he stopped the kiss, he stroked your cheek and told you: “Thank you for being with me, Y/N. Also, thank you for choosing this farm to buy your Christmas tree. “  

You both laughed and went to explore the fair.  

After eating multiples waffles and playing multiples games you were ready to go home. Henry had a different idea, there was the last thing he wanted to show you. He took your hand and pulled you into the carousel.  

You quickly asked him: “Really? “ He only nodded and bought the tickets for both of you.  

You chose to sit on the horse in the carousel, Henry sitting behind you wrapping his arms protectively around your waist. Within a minute the carousel moved. You close your eyes knowing Henry won’t let you fall. You finally felt completely free and let yourself process all emotions. The tears left your eyes. Henry let you process your feelings. He was whispering sweet words to your ear :  

You are intelligent. 

You are beautiful. 

You are strong.  

You are the best mum.

This night you finally fell asleep in peace, in Henry’s arms.

@severewobblerlightdragon​

[bridgertown]

How Bridgerton is poised to revolutionize romance on television

Lace up your corset and put up your dukes.

Words by Maureen Lee Lenker, November 13, 2020

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Regency romance must be in want of glittering ballrooms, witty banter, a dashing leading man, and a piquant heroine.

Bridgerton, Netflix’s first scripted title with über-producer Shonda Rhimes’ Shondaland production company — under its headline-grabbing $150 million deal — has all of this in abundance. Not to mention a diverse cast that’s a far cry from the typical lily-white hues of Jane Austen adaptations and their ilk. Oh, and the narrator is a Regency-era Gossip Girl voiced by Julie Andrews. As showrunner Chris Van Dusen puts it, “It’s not your grandmother’s period [piece].”

Based on a series of romance novels by Julia Quinn  — beginning with The Duke and I, which offers the season 1 blueprint — Bridgerton follows Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor), a debutante who’s thirsty for a love match. Buoyed (and slightly overprotected) by her family, including her marriage-obsessed mum, Violet (Ruth Gemmell), and her seven siblings, Daphne embarks on a fauxmance with Simon, the Duke of Hastings (Regé-Jean Page). “When we first meet her, she’s this young, naive woman who’s been in this little bubble and doesn’t know anything about love or sex,” says Dynevor.

Simon, meanwhile, is hell-bent on avoiding matrimony, as part of a vengeful vow he made to his execrable father. Page drew inspiration from the classic Romantic poet Lord Byron to craft a character who is part aesthete, part brooding enigma. “You have this beautiful, shadowy, broken, thoroughly complex man, who is as glamorous as we all wish we were on the outside,” notes Page. “But [he’s] trying to figure out who he is.”

It’s standard fare for Shondaland: men and women looking to find themselves within the social confines of their reality. This time it’s in a completely different world, one that shares the female-gaze ethos that often defines Shondaland series — think Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and more. Romance novels account for nearly a quarter of all fiction book sales, yet they’re rarely fodder for splashy screen adaptations. “I never thought this would happen to me,” Quinn says. “Nobody was adapting romance novels, and if somebody was going to do a period piece, they wanted to do another adaptation of Jane Austen or the Brontë sisters.”

That prestige gap between Austen and mass-market historical romance was something executive producer Betsy Beers admits she bumped up against when Rhimes first recommended the novels to her. “I didn’t take what the books were as seriously as I could’ve initially,” she says. “But there should be no pejorative association with romance novels. Nobody sneezes at suspense, at action, at true crime. These are just good stories about relationships, about emotional politics, about how you juggle duty, love, and lust.”

For Van Dusen, the 280-year evolution of romance writing was something to exploit. “I wanted to infuse everything with my own unique, modern lens,” he says. “The tone is very spirited and daring. Everything’s fresh and youthful. There’s a little effervescence to everything.”

That freshness manifests throughout — from the score, which features classical string arrangements of contemporary pop songs (Ariana Grande’s “thank u, next,” Shawn Mendes’ “In My Blood”), to the costumes (“Jane Austen loved her bonnets, but Bridgerton is a bonnet-free world,��� quips Van Dusen). But nowhere is it more evident than in the casting.

The series looks like any Shondaland show: multi-hued and reflective of the world we live in. Romance novelists like Vanessa Riley and Diana Quincy are challenging the established narrative of who inhabited the 19th-century aristocracy. Austen herself featured a mixed-race heiress in her unfinished novel Sanditon. But such a cast is still dismayingly rare in period pieces.

Though the casting here is a far cry from the source material, Quinn wholeheartedly endorses it. “Bridgerton isn’t a history lesson; it’s a show for a modern audience,” she notes. There were, of course, people of color who existed in this time and place, but the show hands them more power than historical assumptions allow. It imagines a British aristocracy where Queen Charlotte (Golda Rosheuvel) is of mixed race (a fact some historians suggest there’s evidence for), thus elevating other people of color to dukedoms and positions of status. “It’s not color-blind casting,” explains Beers. “We try to imagine history and the world in the way we wanted to see it.”

It’s what allows Page to play the powerful, devastatingly handsome duke, a role that previously would have been the exclusive domain of white actors. For Page, who made his U.S. TV debut as Chicken George in the 2016 remake of Roots, it makes Bridgerton’s romantic narrative even more potent. “With color-conscious casting, I get to exist as a Black person in the world,” he says. “It doesn’t mean I’m a slave. It doesn’t mean we have to focus on trauma. It just means we get to focus on Black joy and humanity.”

That joy opens up another narrative component often left behind closed doors in period drama: intimacy. Typically, the Regency’s idea of sexual tension is the brush of a gloved hand, but in the world of Bridgerton, audiences find themselves in an opera singer’s boudoir within the first 10 minutes. “The sexiness and the steaminess was always going to be there,” says Van Dusen, adding that it’s core to the “education of Daphne Bridgerton.”

Dynevor echoes this, explaining that the show’s sex scenes, overseen by an intimacy coordinator, were as intricately choreographed as a fight sequence. But for Dynevor, it was a key part of Daphne’s arc, one that foregrounds her character’s wants above any objectified desirability. (What other Regency literary adaptations feature a heroine experimenting with self-pleasure at the suggestion of her suitor?)

“It’s not often you see sex [treated] in that way,” Dynevor reflects. “It wasn’t gratuitous. It was so essential in Daphne’s journey and sexual awakening. I love the fact that it is very much the female gaze.”

That gaze is the connective tissue between Shondaland and romance publishing, a match so fortuitous it could only end in happily ever after. “[The show] is not going to be so different from the experience of reading a romance novel,” Van Dusen concludes. “It’s sexy and a little dangerous and fun. It leaves you a little hot and bothered and breathless.” Fetch the fainting couch — and the remote.

Bridgerton hits Netflix on Dec. 25.

[pynkhues]

(1/2) Hey, I'm the anon from the last request. Just have a few follow up q's if you're alright with that (dont have a tumblr to message directly rip)? With Gerri, its strange that she's Shiv's godmother yet both Shiv and Roman dont really know her in the pilot- was there a prior schism? Also did not know about St Andrews, if its not a military school then do you think it adds another layer to the dog kennel story?

(2/2- sorry!) I get what you mean when you say he also coddles Roman but to me its the emotional detachment thats striking. Like in the car post-slapgate, its obvs awks from the slap but they also don't seem to have natural connection or conversation vs Logan and car scenes with the others. There's also the references to him beating Roman (not to say he didn't beat the others but its only Roman mentioned). I think in s3, his new status as fave son might bring up some old wounds for Roman.

(x)

Hey! Ooo, these are really great follow ups, thank you! I hope you don't mind me breaking them into sections!

Is it strange that Shiv and Roman don't really know Gerri well in the pilot?

It is strange, but I also think it's just the result of a few things being shuffled around post-pilot. Pilots are usually shot months if not a whole year before the first season is as the point of them is to sell the network on the show. In that sense, they're effectively proof-of-concept tools and so it's common for things to change. I'm not sure if you're a crossover anon, haha, but I talk a lot about Good Girls as well, and the pilot of that even had a completely different lead actress they had to do re-shoots around for 1.01.

Jesse Armstrong, the Succession showrunner, has said that a few things were shuffled around after the pilot – one of the biggest things for instance is that Roman wears a wedding ring in the pilot and Grace is supposed to be his wife (she's even listed as Grace Roy in 1.01 on IMDB!) and Isla their daughter together. They changed that after the pilot though because they thought it worked better with Grace as just his girlfriend, and Isla as Grace's daughter, not his.

I think Gerri's role in the show really bulked up between the pilot and episode 2, and that's why there's more distance between the Roy kids and Gerri in the first couple of episodes than there is later in the season. Gosh, even the fact that she's not at Logan's 80th birthday party in the pilot feels so weird now with how much they've shifted her role in the family, haha.

Rest of the answers under the cut!

Does St. Andrew's not being a military school when Roman attended add another layer to the dog kennel plot?

Yeah, I think it does, but I also think more than anything, it's reiterating what's already there. That entire subplot is really steeped in how Kendall, Roman and Connor all have different memories of this same game. For Roman it's formative, for Kendall it's just a memory of a childish game, and for Connor, it's seen as through older eyes and, more than anything, an insight into their father, not an insight into Roman and Kendall.

In a lot of ways, Roman stressing that St Andrew's was a military school when it wasn't undermines his own memory of the game, just as Connor telling him it wasn't dogfood it was chocolate cake does, just as Connor telling him he asked to be sent away does. Does that make it any less real for Roman? I don't think so. It's obviously something he's remembered as traumatic, and it resulted in a very real, tangible removal of him from Manhattan, where Kendall and Shiv stayed and went to school. Regardless of whether or not it was military school, it was a boarding school, and I think that feeling of distance and isolation was likely very real.

I'm really curious though about Connor's different stories to Kendall and Roman. He tells Roman that he asked to be sent away, and Kendall that their dad sent Roman because you separate fighting dogs and you send the weak one away so that everyone knows the hierarchy. The interesting thing though to me is that I think Connor was telling the truth in both instances, but the former does make the latter read differently.

If Roman wanted to go, it undermines Connor's memory of Logan, because Logan was not only giving Roman what he wanted, but he was giving Roman greater freedom, greater independence, greater agency at an outdoorsy boarding school that wasn't actually a military school at all. So does that mean that Logan saw Roman as the weak dog, or Kendall? Who he kept close and on a short leash in the comfort of home?

Kendall obviously takes Connor at his word, but I'm not so sure that we're supposed to as an audience. I think the story can be read in a lot of different ways, and more than anything, I think it can be read as Logan understanding that Kendall and Roman were not (and are not) the same, and needed different things as children. How that can be spun though is anyone's guess.

Are Logan and Roman emotionally distant?

That's an interesting point about the emotional distance there. I think there is and there isn't? Logan obviously dotes on Shiv and pendulums between coddling, controlling and bullying Kendall, but I think both of those things are more just indicative of really different dynamics. Roman's clearly got a 'class clown' sort of personality that Logan obviously doesn't appreciate and struggles to deal with, particularly given he's a pretty humourless guy (gosh, I think a lot about the fact that one of the only times we've seen Logan actually laugh was when the kids didn't want to see their mum, haha).

In that sense though, I think Logan doesn't understand Roman. It comes back to what I said in the other post – I actually do think Logan sees Roman's strengths, and the fact that Roman doesn't utilise them is, I think to Logan, unforgivable. Logan had to claw his way out of abject poverty through whatever it was he could get, and while Shiv, Kendall and Connor lack, I think Logan looks at Roman and sees waste.

It's why he doesn't have a stomach for the jokes, or the immaturity, and I think contributes to this failure to connect emotionally because he doesn't understand Roman in the way that he understands Shiv's rebellion and Kendall's foibles.

The aftermath of him hitting Roman is interesting too, because I actually think Logan's not trying to create distance in the aftermath, I think he's trying to re-write history to preserve his sense of self. He offers the untruth to Roman as an opening – a map for them to navigate unstable and uncertain terrain, and Roman takes it and follows his lead because he doesn't know how to navigate it either.

Does that make it right or forgiveable? Absolutely not – Logan hit his son, and trying to make everyone pretend that that never happened is an awful example of gaslighting – but I also find it really indicative of the cycle of abuse. We know that Noah was horrifically abusive to Logan, as seen by the scars on his back, and I actually get the impression that Logan tried not to be abusive to his children, but sometimes was because of his temper and his health.

Like, I think when he struck Iverson in the thanksgiving ep it was the first time he'd ever raised a hand to one of his grandchildren, especially given the reaction of people, and even hitting Roman summoned a pretty huge reaction from people, and seemed not to be something Roman was prepared for. It also I think stems back to that point of Logan not knowing how to handle Roman (or Iverson!) and resorting to violence he very quickly regrets because for a man who runs the news, he very rarely utilises words.

Logan was raised in violence, and I think it's a language he's both fluent in and has tried to reject, but one he falls back on when he can no longer communicate.

It's wrong, and awful, of course, but I think it's really interesting because I think it's deliberately a part of this broader theme with the Roy's about how fractured their communication with one another is. They don't know how to connect or talk to each other, and so frequently that breaks down into violence, whether to each other or themselves or to the collateral damage - the NRPIs.

I totally agree though that I think some Thoughts around all of this is likely to resurface for Roman in season 3, especially as Logan no doubt starts to lean on him as the new heir.

[pluviophile-bookworm]

AWAE 2x2 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

I see work has been in full swing on the ship and our two honorary brothers have reached Trinidad, Bash’s homeland. I love Gilbert’s instant fascination with it and its smells. 

“I like potatoes”... Gilbert must be the whitest of white guys I’ve ever seen, and I can say that because I’m a white girl who also happens to love potatoes in any shape and form. Also, I haven’t tasted a hot pepper in my life either, and I don’t think of starting now. To each their own, I say. 

Gilbert is painfully uneducated about black slavery, but I’m glad to see he’s eager to learn and correct himself. 

Wait, was that the first ever cold open not to feature Avonlea at all? it seems it was. That was kind of weird.

Nate smokes, too? Well, that’s the least of his vices. Also, “don’t have an expert eye”? I bet there’s no gold at all in that sample. 

Marilla is once again the only sensible person here. She’s right for the wrong reasons, but he’s right anyway. 

Wait, Anne is getting a new slate just now? Wasn’t it over a year ago that she broke her old one? And “defending herself”- from whom? Gilbert? I’d much have preferred to see her smash something into Billy Andrews’ head. 

Well, leave it to Diana to remind Anne how much she really is worth. I believe she played a crucial part of making Anne the activist she became in season 3. 

I love Jerry’s smile so much and I absolutely hate seeing it fade away at the sight of Nate. This fraud must pay for all the harm he’s done and is going to do, both financial and emotional. 

Wait, is this... can it be... it is. It’s really Cole. I’m so glad to finally see him again. But is this a plot hole - how can Anne know him if he definitely wasn’t there last year?

Shut your filthy mouth, Billy! Name-calling is so immature, and he’s obviously jealous of Cole who doesn’t need to be rude to prove his worth. Billy fully deserves what Cole does to him later after he finally snaps. 

Billy is just a horrible, horrible person. And what does Philips want? First of all, what Cole is doing is too brilliant to be brought down to “doodling”, and second of all, I myself sometimes draw in class instead of taking  notes, and it hasn’t once affected my marks. In fact, it sort of helps me remember better. 

“Draw that.” I love how literally Cole takes the words literally. Also, excellent calligraphy. Bullet journalists have nothing on this guy. And Philips can only dream of having such perfect penmanship. Internalised homophobia is a [no swearing on main]... curse. He’s just jealous that Cole can be so unapologetically himself, while he won’t dare to and prefers to bully literal children instead. 

There she is... Hazel Lacroix in all of her matronly glory. It just breaks my heart how slavery has affected her mindset. And that boy looking like “a wet fowl” (love this simile, btw) - she’ll come to call him Mr. Blythe, and that breaks my heart, too. He’s a friend and a brother, not another white guy who will treat her like an object. 

No, Gilbert, slavery has sadly not ended yet, and in some places it’s very much a thing even today, in the 21st century. This is the painful reality and something must be done about it. Kudos to AWAE for raising awareness of this very real and important issue, among many others. #renewannewithane

Is this because of Nate’s stupid compliments? Marilla experimenting with her hairstyle, I mean. She’s falling into his trap, too, and I really don’t like it. 

It’s awkward that Josie should, as the girls suggest, have a thing for Cole, since she moves on to the polar opposite, Billy. But then again, so does Ruby, doesn’t she? 

I love seeing Jerry’s writing and reading progress. It’s like when I watched my little brother grow up in front of my eyes. And I’m so glad he’s making this effort for his own sake. Jerry is an icon and that’s that on that. 

In a brilliant adaptation of that beautifully frightening scene from the book that is a cautionary tale about letting your imagination get the best of you, Anne is battling her own fancies on her way through the woods. This is just as chilling as the book’s version, and even a bit more. 

Hey, there’s the fox. I don’t remember exactly why it was important, but I do remember Billy hunting it. We’ll have to wait and see.

Dunlop might not be the bad guy here, it’s likely just Nate. I mean, he wouldn’t just give her a fancy pen... wait, is it the pen? Things just got way too curious. 

Ok, now I want to be at this party. I usually run away from any gathering of more than 10 people, but this is lovely. And I’m in love with Diana and Dunlop’s performance.

Practically part of the family? Jerry, yes. Nate, big NO. I mean, nobody was talking about Jerry, but I am and that’s that. 

Minnie May always knows what’s up. Kicking Nate in the shins, what an eloquent and brilliant move. I loved seeing that. 

I mean, Marilla is right, but what’s not real isn’t always not good. And what’s real isn’t always good. That’s important to remember. Moderation is key. 

“Thomas Lynde never makes decisions without consulting Rachel.” I mean, he’s kind of under her thumb, but once again, moderation is key. 

“There’s this girl over in Avonlea”... someone’s in love, and Bash is about to become captain of the Shirbert ship. I love this. 

Aww, Cole is using the stains on his sketchbook to draw Anne’s freckles. i love it. I love it so much, but I can’t help feeling sorry for all the damage that ink did to the sketchbook. Pages upon pages wasted because of stupid Billy... and even though I find it charming, I also feel bad for the drawing of Camelot. 

And so the Shirbert written correspondence continues... with the pen this time. but alas... another ink stain. Those are such a nuisance. I’m glad we don’t need to worry about them so much anymore nowadays. 

To sum up: Gilbert gets to know Bash’s homeland and his mum, is very white, learns about black slavery; Nate is a scoundrel and a big jerk - what’s new?; Jerry’s literacy progress; Cole’s first appearance and a blatant case of internalised homophobia from Philips; Anne is a victim of her own imagination; the fox and the pen appear; Dunlop is not the bad guy; big gold rush party at the Barrys’, Dunlop and Diana make a lovely musical duet; Minnie May is God; ink stains and Shirbert’s written correspondence.

[whitehotharlots]

No one is gonna “gaslight” you about the pandemic. They don’t need to

I took a break from my daylong panic attack to read through a piece that I saw dozens of people sharing on social media. If you’re in the mood to take a glimpse into the abyss of hopelessness, give it a read. 

This is one of the dumbest things I have ever read, but it’s instructive in the sense that it shows us just how absolutely liberalism is not prepared to handle the current moment. If this is the intellectual vanguard of the #Resistance (and judging by those who have shared it, it seems to be), then we should begin mentally preparing ourselves not just for Trump’s reelection but for the very real possibility that he’s just going to be president forever. 

The piece is called “Prepare for the Ultimate Gaslighting,” so right away you know where it’s coming from. “Gaslighting,” has recently surpassed “mansplaining” as the liberal buzzterm that’s become the most meaningless due to overuse. It used to refer specifically to emotional manipulation. Now it basically means “anything that a liberal doesn’t like.” Liberals read a neurotic amount of importance into petty matters of taste and interpersonal relations. They begin, at times, to understand social problems in a structural sense, but they always--always--turn their analysis back to meaningless bullshit that takes place on an individual level. The liberal would never be so gauche as to indict an entire system, no matter how at fault it may obviously be. Instead, he will place blame upon the individuals within the system, those selfish and savage brutes who betrayed the magnanimous intentions of society’s elite engineers. 

This author’s analysis is unsurprisingly very muddy. He mentions, correctly, that there is an eerie serenity to scenes of American cityscapes already being reclaimed by nature. He cannot, however, decide whether or not this is a good thing. This is because of the liberal’s fundamental ambivalence toward malignant social structures. Their ethos is founded on pretending to sympathize with society’s misbegotten, but their status and jobs and personal standing demand that they also apologize profusely for the institutions that reap so much misery upon us. This neurosis is somewhat politically viable only because it usually goes unspoken--and that’s why this piece is worth digging into, since it’s so rare to see them attempt to actually articulate this shit.

The author realizes that our society is deeply poisoned. In a twist, he says that such a sad state is not due to any of the litany of usual, intersectional reasons, but because of the pace at which our social lives are conducted. I am dead serious:

The cat is out of the bag. We, as a nation, have deeply disturbing problems. You’re right. That’s not news. They are problems we ignore every day, not because we’re terrible people or because we don’t care about fixing them, but because we don’t have time. Sorry, we have other shit to do. The plain truth is that no matter our ethnicity, religion, gender, political party (the list goes on), nor even our socioeconomic status, as Americans we share this: We are busy. We’re out and about hustling to make our own lives work. We have goals to meet and meetings to attend and mortgages to pay — all while the phone is ringing and the laptop is pinging.

The problem is, see, that we’re thinking about stuff wrong. Not that the ruling elite are openly corrupt or anything. Oh no. I mean, they must be since they’re about to gaslight us, but also they’re not, they’re basically okay:

The greatest misconception among us, which causes deep and painful social and political tension every day in this country, is that we somehow don’t care about each other. White people don’t care about the problems of black America. Men don’t care about women’s rights. Cops don’t care about the communities they serve. Humans don’t care about the environment. These couldn’t be further from the truth. We do care. We just don’t have the time to do anything about it. Maybe that’s just me. But maybe it’s you, too.

Again, he’s coming to the precipice of a worthwhile realization--that we all know society is unsustainable but we can’t do anything about it--but he has to pull back so as to avoid implicating any of the people who actually wield power. That’s the main thrust of contemporary liberalism: sure, society may be fucked, but that’s your fault, not ours.

The ending is a tour de force of empty liberal platitudes that is breathtaking in its ability to place blame upon anyone and anything aside from the people and things that are actually to blame:

From one citizen to another, I beg of you: take a deep breath, ignore the deafening noise, and think deeply about what you want to put back into your life. This is our chance to define a new version of normal, a rare and truly sacred (yes, sacred) opportunity to get rid of the bullshit and to only bring back what works for us, what makes our lives richer, what makes our kids happier, what makes us truly proud. [ … ]

We can do that on a personal scale in our homes, in how we choose to spend our family time on nights and weekends, what we watch, what we listen to, what we eat, and what we choose to spend our dollars on and where. We can do it locally in our communities, in what organizations we support, what truths we tell, and what events we attend. And we can do it nationally in our government, in which leaders we vote in and to whom we give power. If we want cleaner air, we can make it happen. If we want to protect our doctors and nurses from the next virus — and protect all Americans — we can make it happen. If we want our neighbors and friends to earn a dignified income, we can make that happen. If we want millions of kids to be able to eat if suddenly their school is closed, we can make that happen. And, yes, if we just want to live a simpler life, we can make that happen, too. But only if we resist the massive gaslighting that is about to come. It’s on its way. Look out.

Just… dear god. Dear god. 

We are not facing a crisis of conscientiousness. We are not suffering through mass existential dread because we weren’t mindful enough or didn’t make the right consumer choices or didn’t, like, live in the moment, man. We are staring down the absolute end stage of global capitalism and the complete abandonment of all the pretenses associated with liberal democracy. We are at the start of a very different and much worse stage of existence.

This is why the piece’s central conceit, gaslighting, is so fucking annoying. Because if we’ve learned nothing else from the past 12 years (and apparently we haven’t), it’s that the ruling elite do not need to bother establishing pretense any longer. No one thought the recent Corona bailout was anything other than an upward transfer of wealth and a complete abandonment of the wretched--no one even bothered to argue otherwise, because they knew they didn’t need to. At least a half dozen US senators received advance notice of the pandemic’s severity, and instead of warning people or otherwise working to help their constituents, they sold off stock and kept mum. None of them have received any formal censure, as their behavior was absolutely within the realm of what is acceptable in 2020. Andrew Cuomo, the man presently being lauded as the firm and competent opposite of Trump, used the pandemic as a pretense to push through cuts to social services and renege on bail reform that was past just weeks ago--undoing the last vestiges of progressivism both old and new. Even bleaker: an EU member state is now being ruled by dictatorial fiat under the pretense of the virus, and everyone’s just kind of rolling with it. I mean, really, what’s gonna happen? Brussels gonna step in? NATO gonna invade? Pfft… Not for such a trifling matter as the abandonment of democracy. If they missed a debt payment, on the other hand…

The point is, you’re not going to get gaslit because there’s no need for that any longer. The people who are profiting off of the collapse and destruction of society don’t even have to bother to lie about it. And the only ones doing any gaslighting are the smug liberal twerps who are too scared of upsetting their boss to allow anyone to point out this fact.

[whatmack]

I downloaded In Flanders Fields to read on my phone and just finished it and 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖!!!!! It's so beautiful, I'm going to have to read it over and over. There are so many things that had me tearing up, but especially Aaron when he got a picture of his girls at Christmas because it hits close. I'm going back to crying over this fic now 💖

Thank you all so much!!!! Is it terrible to say I’m glad you cried and you couldn’t sleep? I mean to say, it means a lot that this fic pulled emotions from you, ah, golly

I didn’t go too much into Aaron’s daughters in-text (didn’t get a chance, really, and if Nora gave them names I couldn’t find them, which made it more difficult), but they’re young enough they probably have few if any memories of what it was like during the war, without their dad. 

I doubt they understood much of what was going on, but still, kids are perceptive, and though Katelyn and Aaron tried to hide it I think some of the pressure the two of them felt to have the twins feel comfortable around Aaron was picked up by them.

Because of that, I imagine at least for the first few months, the twins got on a lot better with all their new uncles and aunties than with their father. They follow Andrew around– he LOOKS like dad, just like the twins look like each other! And he doesn’t seem all weird and sad when they try to teach him their games. He grumps at them, which is very funny. 

Aunt Bee always makes them eat, though it’s more fun when it’s sweets she has and not vegetables. Aunt Renee tells the BEST stories. Uncle Nicky is practically a kid himself and he’s always up for a good chase (though his chair gives him an unfair advantage. How are they supposed to be as fast as wheels?). While Uncle Erik and Mum are figuring out how to talk to each other, the twins delight in playing telephone, mixing things up for fun; they think they’re quite clever, tricking the two of them (Katelyn and Erik indulge them).

Uncle Kevin likes to go away in the evenings and won’t come back until the twins are in bed, but when he’s there he’s good to play in the same room with, because he won’t ask silly grown-up questions about what the dolls and the little toy wagon are doing, just listens to the updates when they come. He goes on about aeroplanes a lot, which is boring, but some of the things he says are okay.

[princesscatherinemiddleton]

My thoughts and feelings on the Great British Divorce, as written on January 18th (and updated on February 19th)

I wrote a very long and detailed essay on my feelings when the Sussexes stood down and it was super cathartic. I’ve not reread it since (although I have added one final paragraph) but I am going to make you all read it...

Prince Harry announces he is dating Meghan Markle

I had Meghan Markle down with Ellie Goulding, Mollie from The Saturdays, Caroline Flack, and Jenna Coleman as famous women Harry has “dated” that would never come to anything. Then, on a completely normal day when I was at work, Harry released his statement. It was completely unprecedented. Everyone in the staffroom was talking about it, saying things like “I didn’t even know he was dating/Diana would want to see him happy/Who is she?”. And I knew they would be for keeps. This one would become Mrs Harry.

Engagement announcement

Do you want to know what my initial reaction was when the engagement was announced? Fear and worry. I was so so scared that Harry’s fiancé would be put through the same awful treatment Kate had gone through. I was also worried that Meghan would be pitted against Kate and vice versa – I hadn’t spent all those years watching people drag Kate against Diana/Sophie/Camilla/[insert female royal here] to live it again with Harry’s fiancé. But, despite my fears and the initial sinking feeling of dread, I was still excited. Apart from George’s first day at school, Harry and Meghan’s engagement announcement remains the only event with no Kate appearance that has a tag on my blog. I fell in love with the brilliant, charismatic, intelligent woman in the engagement interview. I was excited for the future.

Pre-wedding engagements

My main memory of how I felt at the time was disappointment at Meghan’s outfits. Where had my stylish young professional gone? Why was she wearing these wide-legged trousers that dragged on the floor with long coats? But I genuinely thought they both did really well. Meghan came across as personable and warm and intelligent. They were clearly in sync. They were a modern young couple and the perfect counterpart to the stability of the Cambridges.

Wedding

I was at uni when the wedding happened. I took the day off work and travelled home for one day to surprise my mum and watch the wedding with her. My auntie called me minutes before Meghan appeared to talk to me because she was watching it and she “knew” I was on my own in Bournemouth. When Meghan appeared, I literally crawled in front of the TV and sat inches from the screen so I could see her emerge in her dress in all its glory (I was disappointed, ngl). I cried during her wedding. I’d spent the morning spotting celebrities and Kate was there and the bridal party was fantastic. Meghan’s tiara shone like the jewel she was. Charles, Camilla, and Doria were literally angelic. After the wedding I went to my auntie’s house to watch the FA Cup final (as a family, we always do that and have a BBQ) and I spent all my time on my phone waiting for photos of their evening outfits. I cried again when I saw Meghan’s Stella dress. It’s one of my favourite wedding outfits of all time. I’m a super fussy bitch and I had plenty of complaints with the wedding and I have aired them before but it was a truly happy and wonderful day and I was happy and content.

Post-wedding engagements

I know I’m literally only talking about Meghan but I don’t pay attention to Harry so I barely know if he’s there or not. I think Meghan hit the ground running. She did some brilliant engagements during the time post-wedding and pre-Archie. Her patronage choices were inspired and the work she did with her patronages is some of my favourite Meghan work. Obviously, she also created the Together Cookbook, which doesn’t need going into. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Meghan would have been the Anne of this generation of royals, quietly getting the numbers and doing fantastic work. Meghan was connecting with people no one else could in a way no one had since Harry himself. She quite literally made the role her own.

Faux Pas

Meghan had teething problems but, most of the time, I put them down to cultural differences. Things like talking about abortion in Ireland – any British person knows not to do that. More importantly, it was a political statement, which is, essentially, “against the rules”. I think Meghan would have grown out of these, as she was making far less of them already, in the same way Kate, Camilla, Sophie, and Diana grew out of them. I also think the general public opinion wasn’t as positive as social media has people believe. I was talking to Cece about this but the Africa documentary went down badly. If it wasn’t for Andy’s well-timed interview, I think it would have been a much bigger deal but, as it was, it was swept under the carpet. Don’t get me wrong, I think Meghan made some incredible points in the documentary that deserved being aired BUT I never heard anyone in the real world say anything positive about those decisions. I think, during their time together, both Harry and Meghan made mistakes that warranted criticism and I don’t think they ever received that criticism because…

Press treatment of Meghan

Has every royal woman received incredibly negative headlines? Yes. Has Kate and her family been treated awfully by the press? Yes. Do I find it funny when people make comments like “look, Meghan touched her baby bump and people hate her and they loved it when Kate did it” when I had to sit through people talking about what trailer trash Kate was for touching her bump in her first two pregnancies? Yes. Was Meghan compared to Kate in the same way Kate was compared to Sophie and Sarah compared to Diana? Yes. Was Meghan’s coverage actually that different from the coverage Kate got? No. Did Meghan receive worse coverage than any other British royal? Yes. Without a doubt.

I’ve stayed away from talking about race too much. I am a white woman. I look like a “stereotypically” Jewish woman as my family is Jewish. A large proportion of my family is either from the Republic of Ireland or the Irish travelling community. I’ve seen my family be subject to abuse because of their ethnicity. My mum has scars because her house was set on fire as a child because her dad was Irish. Despite that, I have no idea what it is like to experience racism. I’ve had the most closeted white woman life when it comes to matters of race. None of the things I described was racism in the way Meghan experienced it and none of it means I am in a position where I can join in on this conversation. I have spent years learning about racism and every day I find myself coming across something that I hadn’t considered, like the idea that Meghan is a good mum for going back to work so quickly is a form of positive discrimination and we should tackle that. I genuinely don’t know how much I should get involved in these conversations but I also don’t want to add to emotional labour by continuously directing these conversations towards people of colour.

Coming from my position of privilege, Meghan received some truly awful and horrific treatment at the hands of the press and the public. She was humiliated, her family history and private life was raked over, she was blamed for war because she ate an avocado one time? I can only assume Harry is really good in bed because there is no way I would have stayed with him if I had to go through what Meghan went through. Announcing they were suing the press was still the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen though.

BRF & Meghan

The BRF could have – and should have – done more to protect Meghan from the press. However, I think it was naïve to ever assume they would. I could talk until I’m blue in the face about how it would have helped Meghan’s confidence (and the BRF’s PR) to make a statement like “The Queen and the royal family are greatly distressed at the treatment of the Duchess of Sussex…”. I could talk about how the BRF uses symbolism rather than statements and I watched you all talk about how the Queen loves Meghan because she went on the royal train and had a solo engagement with the Queen so don’t pretend for one minute that you all don’t know that. I could talk about William releasing a statement (which everyone glosses over but go off, I guess). I could talk about how, if the Queen did not release a statement, Kate couldn’t very well have gone off and released one on her own (also, how come it’s always The Queen, Charles, Will, and Kate, where is Camilla?). But there’s no point. They should have done more. It was a massive oversight not to consider how being a woman of colour would affect Meghan’s treatment after becoming a member of the firm and they had a duty to help protect her. But no one should ever have thought it would have happened. The BRF look after number 1 and that, right now, is the Queen. That’s how it has always been. They treated Meghan the same way they treat everyone who isn’t in the direct line (also Andrew but that’s Andrew). As Katie says, anything else would have blown up in Meghan’s face. If I was in charge of the BRF’s PR, I would not have advised them to say anything.

Archie

Archie is a precious angel and I refuse to hear otherwise.

Archie’s birth was poorly handled by Sara but I don’t care. It was cute. Archie’s christening was foolishly handled by the Sussexes. I also don’t massively care. It’s miniscule in comparison to the bigger fish at play. Despite that, the only people who would have cared who Archie’s godparents were, are on this site. By refusing to allow the small bit of access the public get to christenings, it annoyed people who barely even know who Archie is. And we’re still talking about it today. I said to a friend recently that most British people only care about royals when it comes to weddings, babies, and money. With a wedding in Windsor, not London, and on a Saturday (meaning no bank holiday), coupled with a messy birth announcement, no “Lindo Wing” appearance, and the godparent faux pas, they missed golden opportunities to help the public fall in love with them and their family. There’s a reason the Cambridge kids are always seen after a PR disaster.

Sussex Statement

My opinion on the statement? Massively poorly handled. I think the BRF knew the Sussexes wanted out but did not know the statement would be released. This doesn’t contradict anything anyone has said. Harry and Meghan are right to leave. Mentally, and also for their family. They will flourish outside of the confines of the BRF. I also think Harry messed up by releasing the statement when he did. By forcing the hand, the public was calling for them to lose their funding before a decision had to be made (and lo and behold, they lost their funding), rather than being able to release a full statement confirming how much money they would keep. TLDR; good idea, hope it all works out, awfully handled.

Sussex/BRF Resolution

I think it was the best possible solution. I’m a little shocked they are completely stepping down but, as time goes on, I’m not surprised. I think the Sussexes clearly expected to be more half in/half out because their website had a whole section dedicated to royal work and supporting the Queen and taxpayer funding. The website used their titles. There are still things to work out (Duchy funding? How will they repay the taxpayers? Will they go to Trooping? Will they answer letters? SussexRoyal) but I think it’s a good middle ground.

Overall thoughts

The Sussexes are right to leave. The way they left was messy af and I blame Harry for that. I don’t think Meghan was innocent in how they left but I blame Harry for being so trigger happy. They made some bad PR moves in the last few months: announcing they were suing the press (do it quietly or they’ll just come after you more), the documentary, the statement. I think the press will be after them even more now and I think it’s interesting looking at how many times we’ve seen Meghan papped in Canada this year compared to the times we saw her papped in the UK since 2017. I also think, long term, they will lose their star power and become Reese Witherspoon levels of famous. Everyone knows who she is, most people like her, she does some good philanthropic work, she gets freebies, that’s pretty much it. Meghan and Harry’s appeal (and this goes for every single royal) is in the fact they are royal. Without the connection to the BRF, they’re just rich people preaching.

I’m also very sad. I thought Meghan would come back, post maternity leave, with a new project and put everyone else to shame. I thought she would take on new patronages, do a solo overseas visit, and generally flourish as a young working mum. We will see far less of her than we thought we would. I doubt we’ll see little Archie much at all. As for Harry, I can officially say that the most amusing and upsetting thing to come out of this has been seeing good, kind, left-wing people brown nose a rich, privileged, racist, quite frankly dangerous white man because he married a good woman. I think he will struggle more out of the royal bubble than in it because he’s lost the little structure he had.

Harry was always going to leave the royal family. Meghan might have been a catalyst, but she is not the cause. There is nothing the BRF could have done – no statement – that would have stopped him. He did a whole interview about how much he hates being a royal and then said the public need royals. In his new life as a whatever he is now, my biggest worry is that he will spend more time talking publicly about issues like mental health, without understanding what he is saying. I hope I’m wrong and that he flourishes and becomes a force to be reckoned with. But, while I know Meghan will do brilliantly, I have no idea what he’ll do.

Meghan, Archie, I hope you flourish. I can’t wait to see what you do next. Harry. Sayonara, biatch.

A final update

I thought I should give my thoughts on this now – mid-February – after the dust has settled. I genuinely miss a lot of the people the Sussexes brought to the fandom. I miss planning outfits for Meg to wear to events, I miss predicting what Meghan’s next patronages might be. I miss seeing Meghan interacting with the public, because that was where she shone. We now know the Sussexes will formally split on March 31st, after a final set of engagements. I’m super looking forward to these engagements and judging the vibe from everyone there. We also know it’s likely they will have to rebrand (my bet is Sussex Foundation) and I’m assuming this rebrand will happen in April/May time, possibly around their anniversary. Honestly, I was expecting to see more of them. I was expecting more posts on their Instagram about private visits to charities. I was definitely not expecting them to jump straight to JP Morgan and start attending exclusive events. Rich people going to rich people, I guess. Despite that, Meghan and Harry could start a business selling rubber ducks and, quite frankly, it’s none of my business. If we never see them again, that’s their choice as private citizens and I have to respect that. I’m still fascinated to see how this will all turn out but they are now free to live their own lives and, because of that, I’m going to live and let live.

[phantasticworks]

If You Don’t Love Me, Pretend - Chapter One

it’s finally here, lads. buckle up, because it will be a long one. updating schedule is (tentative) weekly

read on ao3

Words: 12.1k 

Summary: All his life, Dan has wanted to have the chance to be a parent someday. He would be the best parent that ever existed, he was sure of it. Fostering might not be the most traditional way on the road to parenting, but Dan's dead set on doing it anyway. But, well, it would be easier with a co-parent, right?

the self-indulgent, bed-sharing, fake relationship, friends-to-lovers, parent fic i was desperate to read; when i shouted into the void and was met with silence, i decided i'd do it myself

Warnings for this chapter: swearing, references to child abuse

If there was one thing that Dan had learned while working within the education system is that life sucked; and if you’re a kid, it seems to suck a lot more, just behind closed doors. He didn’t know if he was just jaded because he was an adult, and therefore life seemed to suck endlessly for him, or if it was because of the job he was stuck in. Being a school counselor hadn’t been exactly where he thought his career was going, but it was a job and it paid the bills, so he stayed.

That’s not to say he was unhappy with his job. Quite the opposite, actually, because if there was one thing he enjoyed, it was being useful, and helping students sort out what they wanted out of their lives felt like being useful to him. But, like every job, there were things he didn’t enjoy about it, specifically how hard it could be some days.

Today was one of those days.

A student, a sophomore girl called Charlotte, had come into his office during her study hall. He hadn’t been at all prepared for the conversation that followed.

“What’s up, Lottie? How’s band going? Did you land the flute solo in the winter showcase?” He had said cheerfully as he ushered her inside.

She shifted awkwardly in her seat, never taking her eyes off the floor, which was strange, even for a shy girl like Charlotte. “Um, yeah… Yeah, I got the solo, but I…” She begins mumbling, ducking her head down so that he can’t understand a thing she’s saying.

“Charlotte? What’s going on?” He spoke softly and encouragingly, not wanting to pressure her, but wanting her to be honest with him if there was something bothering her.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Dan studying the shaking girl for a few beats before he realized she was crying. He quickly pushed the box of tissues towards her, encouraging her to take one. “I…” She starts quietly, choked up.

“Charlotte,” he speaks gently, causing her to look up at him, her eyes red and watering. “I can’t read your mind, sweetheart. I won’t know how to help if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” He gestures to the tissues before settling back in his chair slightly. “Take your time, just know I’m here to listen.”

It’s a few agonizing moments of silence before she finally speaks. When she does, it’s not what he’s expecting in the slightest. “They’ve been hurting me.” Her voice is almost entirely inaudible, but Dan catches it in the complete silence of the room anyway, although after he processes what she’s said he wishes he hadn’t.

“Who?” he asks, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat uncomfortably as he tries desperately to hope that she doesn’t mean what he thinks she means. He had been expecting bullies in her classes, or a break up, or maybe even just bad grades. He had not been prepared for this.

“My mum’s boyfriend… and, well, I guess her too…” She trails off, but her eyes immediately snap back up to his. She rushes to clarify, “she hasn’t touched me, but she...”

Dan clears his throat, straightening up in his seat. “What does she do when he does this?” He asks gently, his voice serious.

Charlotte looks down again, her blonde hair falling over her face, before whispering, “Nothing. She does nothing.” She’s fully crying again, and he suddenly realizes she’s got a hand covering her wrist tightly. He gets a horrible, sick feeling in his stomach as he rises, moving around the desk to sit beside her.

“May I?” He asks softly, gesturing to her hand.

She studies him for a moment before nodding hesitantly. She tugs the sleeve of her shirt up slowly, and Dan suddenly feels himself go lightheaded. There are purple markings all around the wrist of her left hand, and he can tell there’s some further up her arm.

He clears his throat twice before speaking, trying to recall exactly what he needs to do. Call the police, for one. Child abuse was entirely illegal, obviously, and since she came to him with the information voluntarily he had to report it to the authorities. He hated to think about what kind of effect it would have on her, though. He’d been reading up on foster care more and more recently, as he had always wanted to do it himself, but he was sickened to think that this girl might end up in a bad home.

“We’ll have to report them to the authorities. You’ll have to tell them exactly what you’ve told me. Do you think you’ll be able to do that?” Dan asks her seriously, watching her face for any signs of regret or fear. Surprisingly, she does look frightened, but almost determined, too.

“Yes. I have to. My brother… my little brother got…” She bites her lip, which had been trembling furiously the whole time. Dan hands her another tissue and gently rubs her back in a soothing pattern. “He got hit last night. I can’t… I can’t let that happen again.”

Dan nearly chokes, his own eyes beginning to water. He had met her little brother Andrew at the beginning of this year when Charlotte had gotten in trouble for being late for school. She was walking him to the primary school just across the street since their parents had just dropped them both off at the secondary school building. When one of the teachers on duty saw this, he’d had a fit and tried to give her a detention, but Dan had stepped in and suggested that maybe they look at it from a different angle. The child had been terrified and clinging to Charlotte the whole time, thinking it was his fault that his sister was in trouble.

He was so furiously against any kind of child abuse or neglect, and the idea that her sweet little brother, who was barely six years old, had gotten hit by this man… well, it made Dan sick. He tried not to show his emotions to the girl, since he was supposed to be the mature, responsible adult in this situation.

“You’re very brave for telling me about this, Charlotte. I just want you to know that this is going to be difficult, but you did the right thing. I’m going to get Mrs. Pentland and let her know that we’ll be calling the police. Can you sit in here until I get back?” He asks the girl, rising from his seat when she nods slowly.

Just as he’s walking towards the door, she speaks up again. “Can I…” She stood up unsurely, and without her even speaking, Dan knew that she just needed a hug.

“Of course,” He said gently, wrapping his arms around her. He gently patted her head, his heart breaking as she cried in his arms. He hated this part of his job, seeing kids so young being so hurt.

“Thanks.” She whispered when she finally stepped away, rubbing under her eyes. “Really. Thank you, Mr. Howell. I don’t think I would have been able to tell anyone else.”

Again, Dan’s heart broke for her. He didn’t let her see that, instead smiling briefly and reminding her he’d be right back before stepping into the hallway to find their headmistress and let her know what had happened. He takes a minute to be fifteen again, hear the boom of his father’s voice and doors slamming, hard, before shuffling down the hall, off to do his job to the best of his ability.

~~~

When Dan finally manages to leave work that evening, he’s exhausted. The talk with the police and the case worker who had come along was long and tiring, but more so for Charlotte and her brother Andrew, he was sure. He felt awful about the whole thing, but sadly it was out of his hands. The case worker told him it was likely that they would be removed from the home and placed either with a family member or in a foster home. He tried his best to argue with her, saying that there was no way they could know if the foster home would be any better.

She subtly told him to mind his own business.

As he’s shoveling his papers into his messenger bag, his phone beeps with a text. He’s unsurprised to see that it’s from his best friend.

Phil: Mario kart marathon tonight?

Phil: I’ll buy pizza

Dan barely smiles at the message, but he’s too tired for any gaming. Pizza, however, did sound good. He texts him back before he finishes gathering his things.

Dan: raincheck on mk but dominos sounds good  

Dan’s not even surprised when his phone beeps again less than a minute later.

Phil: uh oh  

Phil: Rough day?  

Dan: you have no idea

His phone doesn’t immediately go off again, so he finishes gathering up his things and heads out, locking the door to his office on the way. He’s unsurprised to see that Louise, the headmistress and one of his close friends, had already left for the day. She had two kids, one being a new baby, so he wasn’t surprised that she had wanted to get home to them as soon as possible. He sighs, because as usual, he’s the last person to leave. It’s almost sad, but he likes to think it’s because he just really cares about his job and not because he doesn’t have a social life.

Walking to his car, he groans when his phone begins to ring. He pulls it out as he unlocks his car and tosses his bag in, sliding the answer button when he sees who it is.

“Hey,” Phil’s quiet voice fills the line. Dan can tell he’s trying to be careful and gauge his mood, considering Domino’s was usually their comfort food when something particularly bad had happened.

“Hi,” Dan responds, slamming his door a little too harshly before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot in one quick motion. “So, Domino’s okay with you?” he asks tentatively, unsure if Phil’s offer to hang out still stands if Mario Kart is off the table. He seriously doubted it, but he feels like he can’t blame Phil if he wants to skip out on this particular mood that he’s in.

“Of course. I’ll order it to be sent to yours and meet you there in about fifteen?” Phil sounds soft and gentle, and Dan finds himself wanting to cry all over again after the day he’s had.

“Yeah, okay. You may beat me there, I’m just leaving work.” Dan would never turn down a chance to hang out with his best friend, even if his day had been shit and he was feeling like he’d be the worst company in the world.

“Alright. Want me to set up a movie?” Phil knew him so well, he wasn’t even questioning that Dan wasn’t in the mood for video games, and just accepted that this was one of those times where Dan just needed some passive entertainment and a load of carbs.

“Yeah, something I can cry over.” He suggests, looking at his side mirror before making a turn. He doesn’t elaborate, and he knows that Phil will understand, he always does.

“Okay. See you there.” He waits for Dan to respond in a similar fashion before the line goes dead. Dan sighs, setting the phone down on his lap, chewing his lip as he drives home. His thoughts are clouded with the events of today and his chest feels entirely too heavy. He knows that if he can just have a minute to cry it out, he’ll feel better.

When he gets to his flat, he’s unsurprised to find the door unlocked, the sound of the tv greeting him as he walks through the door. “I’m home!” He calls out, so he doesn’t freak Phil out when he walks into the lounge. He drops his bag off in the dining room, tossing his jacket onto the back of one of the chairs, rolling the sleeves of his button-down shirt up as he walks up the stairs into the lounge where he assumes Phil will be.

He smiles almost against his will at the scene he finds. Phil is curled into one end of his sofa with his laptop out, probably ordering the pizza, Dan’s fuzzy blanket covering his lap, his glasses askew on his face. He’s wearing an ugly sweater that he probably thought was really cool, which Dan finds endearing, if slightly annoying. He looks up as Dan enters the room, a small smile covering his face.

“Hi,” Phil says softly, studying Dan, as if he’ll be able to tell what had happened today just by looking at him.

“Hi,” Dan mimics, walking over and dropping onto the sofa beside him. He drops his head onto the backrest, staring up at the ceiling, feeling Phil’s stare burn into him.

There’s a moment of silence before Phil decides to prompt him again. “So,” he says, lightly knocking his knee against Dan’s. “Do you want to talk about what’s got you so upset?”

Dan shakes his head slowly, his eyes not straying from the spot of ceiling he’s currently memorizing. He knows he should, and that if there’s anyone he can talk to it’s Phil, but he feels like if he opens his mouth to speak, he’ll start sobbing. He’s not sure he’ll ever stop if he does.

“Okay,” Phil says slowly, shifting. He seems to be pondering something before he taps Dan’s thigh. “Would you like some tea?”

He very nearly rolls his eyes at this suggestion; they’re so British it hurts sometimes. Instead, he shrugs. “Hot chocolate?” he requests softly, glancing over at Phil, hoping that his best friend will take sympathy on him and make him a mug.

Phil grins as he stands up. “Coming right up, with four marshmallows.”

Dan’s relieved to be left alone for a moment, watching as Phil retreats downstairs to the kitchen. It’s not like he really wanted to avoid discussing what had happened, he just felt that he needed a moment to process it in the comfort of his own home before sharing it.

He doesn’t have to wait long before Phil’s elephant feet are stomping up the stairs, two mugs of hot chocolate in his hands when he enters the lounge. He hands one to Dan before settling onto the sofa, pulling the blanket over himself before looking at Dan expectantly. “So?” he says gently.

Dan knows he isn’t about to force him to speak about it if he really doesn’t want to, but he also knows what Phil knows; it would be so much better for him to speak about it to someone, and the only person he could really confide in was right there. Still, he’s silent for a minute, swallowing hard before whispering, “I had to report a girl’s parents to the authorities for child abuse today.”

His words sit heavy in the air between them, and Dan feels as if he’s suffocating under their weight. He takes a deep, steadying breath, or tries to, at least. It comes out staggered, and he squeezes his eyes shut, refusing to cry. He hadn’t watched a sad movie yet. Dan didn’t just sit around crying for nothing, at least not with company. His mind laughs at this, supplying the idea that Phil has seen him in much worse shape before. Dan kindly asks that little voice to take a hike.

Phil clears his throat, and when Dan tilts his head to look at him, he’s surprised to find Phil looking out the window, his mouth set in a thin line. He hated the idea of child abuse as much as Dan, and Dan suddenly feels guilty about telling him. He didn’t want Phil to feel sad or guilty over it, since it wasn’t his problem. Just as he opens his mouth to apologize for bringing up such a heavy topic, he feels Phil’s hand come to land on his leg, just above his knee.

Dan’s gaze drops to his hand, and Phil squeezes gently, causing Dan’s gaze to dart up to his.

Phil smiles sadly. “I’m so sorry you had to do that, Dan. I… I can’t imagine what that must have been like.” His friend sounds so sincere, and Dan has to look away, trying to get a grip on his emotions.

“It sucked,” He whispers.

“I know.” Phil responds, squeezing his leg again. He goes to speak again, but just when he does, they hear a loud buzzer, indicating the pizza delivery guy is there. Phil releases his grip to stand and goes to buzz the guy into the building. “I’ll be right back,” he says quietly before taking his wallet and going downstairs to get the pizza and pay the delivery guy.

Dan sighs before rising to go change out of his work clothes. He was already beginning to feel uncomfortable in the stiff-collared shirt that he was wearing. Unbuttoning it as he trudges down the stairs, he’s a little too lost in his head to realize that Phil is turning the corner with the pizza boxes before they nearly run into each other.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” Dan mumbles, going to steady the boxes in Phil’s hand. He had ordered pizza and chicken nuggets, as well as cookies. He must have predicted how bad Dan’s day had been while they were on the phone, which Dan is grateful for.

“It’s fine. Go change, I’ll grab us something to drink.” Phil glances down at Dan’s hands, which are still undoing buttons, and Dan flushes when he realizes that he’s basically just walking around stripping. He avoids Phil’s eyes as he ducks into his bedroom to get his pajamas on. He reminds himself that Phil has seen him shirtless, they used to live together, after all. That had been so long ago, it seemed.

Back when Dan was contemplating dropping out of uni and Phil convinced him to switch majors instead. His family hadn’t been thrilled of course, but Dan knew that if it hadn’t been for Phil, he wouldn’t have finished university at all. Or finished anything at all, for that matter.

Dan had been in an incredibly bad place for years when Phil came into his life, and the raven-haired dork would probably never realize how drastically he had changed Dan’s entire life. But after living together for about three years, Dan had moved into his own place. Although it hadn’t been life-altering in terms of their friendship, things had been really weird and hard to adjust to at first, although Dan definitely didn’t regret it now. He had gotten a fairly good deal on his current flat, and they lived close enough they saw each other nearly every day anyway, just like best friends do.

By the time Dan manages to get into his pajamas and work himself out of his thoughts and up the stairs, Phil has already got their plates out and drinks poured. Dan smiles tiredly as he drops to the sofa beside him, tugging the chicken nugget box towards him and tearing the lid off, making Phil roll his eyes.

“I cannot believe you still do that.” His voice is light and teasing, which Dan thinks is good for while they’re having dinner. He can’t handle heavy conversation while he’s trying to eat.

Shrugging, Dan nods to the tv. “What’re we watching? Did you pick out something good and sad?” He tries to joke, but his voice sounds flat, even to his own ears.

Phil shrugs, studiously avoiding Dan’s gaze as he organizes their fair array of dips on the coffee table. “You can pick something else if you aren’t up for it.” He shrugs again.

Slightly suspicious but not enough to be alarmed, Dan tosses the trash from the boxes he’s ripped apart to the side, looking at Phil again. “Is it The Notebook?” When Phil shakes his head, Dan shrugs and turns to the dips, peeling off the lids. “Then it’s fine.”

After a moment, Phil sighs and grabs the remote, pressing play, causing the previous screensaver to change to the movie he’d picked. Dan almost chokes when he realizes what it is, but he shrugs when Phil looks at him in concern. “This is fine. I like this movie.” His lip curls up into a small smile, but he knows his dimple isn’t showing.

“We can change it. I wasn’t thinking about- I didn’t realize what had happened today, Dan. I seriously don’t mind if you want to change it.” His best friend shifts on the sofa, trying to catch Dan’s gaze.

“It’s fine. I haven’t seen this in a while, and it’s a good movie. Sandra’s a good actress, even if she looks weird as a blonde.” He tries to crack a joke, but Phil doesn’t react.

After a few minutes where Dan is actively avoiding looking at Phil as Phil does nothing but stare at him, he hears the older man sigh, before pressing play, allowing the movie to begin.

Dan glances at the tv, then at Phil, sending him a small smile, assuring him that he’s fine. Phil smiles back, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Dan knows his friend is just worried about him, but he feels that just avoiding how he feels about what happened will just be counterproductive. At least, that’s probably what his therapist would say.

So instead of digging himself into a hole of sadness and guilt, he sits back with his plate of delicious food on his sofa with his best friend and tries to enjoy The Blind Side in all its glory.

~~~

An hour later, and Dan is slightly reconsidering his earlier thoughts. The food is long gone by now, so Dan is left with nothing to distract himself with from the emotional aspects of the movie. He had already teared up at the scene where Michael said he had never had a bed, and now his eyes were threatening to spill over again as the graduation scene is happening.

Phil has noticed, and while he tries not to be so obviously worried, at one point he pulled Dan’s legs into his lap, which Dan has to admit does help slightly, if only because the physical contact tethers him to something real and tangible in this world. Dan tries not to sniffle too loudly, but he’s not sure how well he’s doing, given Phil is shooting him glances every few minutes.

Graciously, Phil allows him to cry in quiet, but he crushes any hopes that Dan had that he hadn’t full noticed when he hands him the box of tissues that Dan keeps on the end table beside Phil.

“Thanks,” he whispers wetly.

This time, Phil doesn’t even bother pretending he’s paying attention to the tv, keeping his sole focus on Dan. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, one arm coming up on the back of the sofa while the other rests across Dan’s calves.

Dan nods too quickly, and Phil tilts his head at him in disbelief. Sighing, Dan tilts his head to rest against the back of the sofa and studies a thread coming out at the top while he ponders over Phil’s question. “I want to foster.” He announces quietly.

Phil’s eyebrows furrow at this, and he glances at the tv. The movie is coming to an end, so he apparently decides it’s fine to put the sound on mute for this conversation. “Like you want to be a foster parent?” Phil asks for clarification, studying Dan in that careful, attentive way that he has.

Dan wraps a clean tissue around his index finger as he nods, still avoiding long periods of eye contact with Phil. “Yeah. I want to help kids who don’t have anyone. I just… I get so mad at them, Phil.” He seethes, steadily becoming more emotional and enraged as he just thinks about Charlotte’s situation, and others like hers. She certainly wasn’t the first person who had come to Dan about something like this, but she was the first who he hadn’t expected, as he had seen no warning signs prior to that.

Phil rubs circles onto Dan’s calves, seemingly without noticing it, his eyes focused on Dan’s face. “Mad at who, Dan?” Phil asks, his expression slightly confused.

“The parents, Phil. All these shitty fucking parents who don’t know how to take care of their kids. I could do so much better than them. I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough with the career I’ve got. I want to do something, you know? I want to make an impact in someone’s life.” Dan is slightly aware of the way he’s basically rambling at this point, but he isn’t quite sure where to stop.

Phil looks unsure as he speaks. “Dan, you have an impact on the lives of all the kids you work with.” He hesitates before his eyes drift to his hands, on Dan’s legs. “You’ve had an impact on mine,” He says softly. Dan isn’t sure he heard him right, so he moves on.

“That doesn’t count.” He thinks he sees a flash of hurt on Phil’s face before it’s quickly covered up by a look of concern. “I know that what I’m doing at the school isn’t, like, a total waste of time, but I just… I just want to do more. I want…” he takes a deep breath before continuing. “I want to be able to be someone’s parent because I want to be the kind of good parent that mine never were.” His voice is near inaudible by the end of that, but he knows Phil has heard by the way his face falls, a soft look coming over his features.

“Oh, Dan.” He sighs, shifting closer to Dan so that the younger boy is nearly in his lap, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. Dan hadn’t realized how desperately he needed that hug until he feels Phil breathe, and then feels as his hand comes up to stroke his back soothingly.

And then, Dan’s crying, just like he figured he would tonight. It had been a long time since he’d been held this way, but Phil was his best friend in the whole world, and so if anyone was going to be there for this slight meltdown, he was glad it was Phil. His best friend gently rubs his back with one hand, the other petting his hair. Dan wraps his arms around Phil’s torso in response, openly sobbing at this point.

Dan isn’t sure how long they sit like that, with Phil whispering that everything would be okay, before he finally realizes how gross he feels, gently disentangling himself from Phil, putting some space between them as he wipes at his eyes. “Thanks,” Dan says wetly. “I think-” he pauses, his eyes widening as his attention suddenly drawn to the stain on Phil’s jumper from his snot and tears. He brings his own sleeve up to his nose, wiping away the snot he’s embarrassed to realize has collected there. He can’t help but make a face, waving the sleeve as if that’ll clean it off. “Er- sorry about your jumper,” he mumbles.

“It’s fine. I know you think this one’s ugly anyway. Probably did that on purpose, if I had to guess.” Phil jokes quietly, causing Dan to laugh before gently shoving Phil in retaliation.

“Nope, you have no proof of that.” Dan shrugs innocently.

Phil quirks an eyebrow before gesturing to the jumper to indicate that it is the evidence, and Dan only shrugs in response.

They sit in silence for a few moments before Dan finally speaks up again. “I think… I think tomorrow I’m going to call a fostering agency.” He says softly, looking down at his hands.

Phil looks at him, nodding slowly. “Yeah?” He prods gently, waiting to see if Dan would elaborate.

He does. “Yeah. I’ve… Well, I’ve actually looked into a few already, but I’m going to call one tomorrow and see if I can get the process started. I read that it can take up to six months, and I really want to do this.” He chews his lip before speaking again, glancing up at Phil timidly. “You’ll, like, still hang out, right? Like, this won’t completely destroy our friendship if I do this?” He asks, worrying his lip as he waits for an answer.

Phil frowns. “Of course, it won’t. Dan, if you want to do this, I support you. I’ll be there to help you, whatever you need. Okay?” He ducks his head to catch Dan’s gaze.

Dan nods slowly, smiling tiredly. “Thanks, Phil.” He glances at the tv, which has long since turned off due to inactivity. He checks his phone on the table next, surprised to see that it’s already pretty late, and he’s had a long day. “I think I’m gonna head to bed. Are you staying over?”

Phil checks his own phone, shaking his head. “Nah, I’ve gotta be at work kinda early tomorrow, don’t wanna wake up even earlier to get home and get ready.” He stands up, glancing down at Dan. “Unless you need me to stay?” He studies Dan intently, his blue eyes searching for any hint of uncertainty.

Dan shakes his head quickly before standing as well, clearing the coffee table. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Just needed a cry, I guess.” He shrugs casually before nodding to the table. “Mind helping out before you leave?”

Phil nods, bending to collect the dishes they used while Dan gathers up their trash. Phil heads downstairs to the kitchen to drop off the dishes while Dan tosses the trash into the bin. After washing his hands, he finds Phil already by the door, tugging his shoes on. Dan holds his keys out for him, smiling when Phil studies him with a frown on his face, clearly worried.

“I’m fine, Phil. I promise. Just had a bad day, that’s all. And we watched a freaking sad movie. But I’m fine.” Dan pushes the keys into Phil’s hand before opening the door for him since he’d have to lock it behind him. Although Phil had a key, Dan always preferred to do it himself, so he knew for sure it was locked. He was paranoid like that sometimes.

Phil seems to take a moment to consider what Dan said before stepping through the door. He turns back around to say goodbye and catches Dan slightly off guard when he pulls him into a hug. Neither of them had anything against showing physical affection, as being best friends for nearly ten years definitely did that for a person. Still, it wasn’t often that they hugged each other goodbye.

The surprise doesn’t stop there, however, as before Phil steps away, he brings his lips up to Dan’s forehead, pressing them lightly against his hairline, so briefly that Dan would almost think he’d imagined it, if it weren’t for the unmistakable feeling of lips against his skin. “Night, Dan. Call me if you need anything.” And with that, Phil is off, down the hall and out of sight before Dan can even close the door.

After locking it and setting the alarm, he stumbles to bed in a daze, his head swirling with a million different thoughts. The loudest of which, shouting Phil just kissed you! On the forehead, but he kissed you! The thought isn’t entirely unwelcome, as he’s still processing the oddity that that level of affection between them was. With that thought, others begin flooding his mind, most of them flashbacks to a different time, nearly ten years ago, an October full of first meetings and uncertainty and flirty banter and warm smiles.

While that time seemed so far away now, this evening’s events were causing a whole barrage of memories long since buried in Dan’s mind to resurface. He tosses and turns in bed, struggling to find a good, safe place to let his thoughts drift to as he tries to sleep. One thing is certain, though. After all that thinking, Dan goes to sleep that night with thoughts of blue eyes and Ferris wheel rides swirling in his head.

~~~

The next day is a Thursday, and Dan is nearly bursting with nervousness as he settles into his office for the day. He’s already checked with Louise about Charlotte’s situation, but she didn’t know much. They were informed that Charlotte and her brother wouldn’t be in school for a few days, but that was it. It was incredibly ineffective to yank the children out of their routine, Dan thought, but it wasn’t like he had any real control now. It was entirely up to the case workers and the system now.

He sighs as he sorts his paperwork out on his desk, fishing out the things he’d need today for the few meetings he had, as well as a black journal that he had been keeping all the information he’d found about fostering. There wasn’t much to do at the moment, given he had about an hour before his first meeting of the day, so he decided to go through and pick a foster company to start the process with.

After scanning the websites of the three companies he had on his list, he eventually decides to go with one called Bridge the Gap, partially because they had earlier office hours than the others, but also because he liked the layout and design of their website. Leave it to him to be nerdy enough to consider graphic design when going into a situation like this. He double checks that his door is firmly shut before dialing the number on his cellphone, his stomach twisting with nerves.

The phone rings twice before a cheery voice picks up. “Bridge the Gap Foster Care, this is Kacey, how can I direct your call?”

Dan stumbles with his response, as he hadn’t expected such a prompt and efficient person to pick up the call. “Uh, yeah. I need to speak with a case worker about fostering? Er- I’d like to start, I mean, and so… Yeah.” He finishes lamely, clenching his eyes shut in frustration at how totally unprepared he feels.

The girl on the other end just laughs good-naturedly. “Then you’re in the right place. Give me just a second, and I’ll put you through to one of our caseworkers.” Dan responds with an affirmative, and then the sound of soft music begins playing. He perks up when he recognizes the tune as Clair de Lune. Just from that, he decides that he’s made the right decision. He begins doodling on the large calendar on his desk, a dog, and then a cat, followed by little stick children. He stops when he realizes he’d unintentionally drawn two children, a boy and a girl, beside a little figure of himself.

The wait isn’t too long, and before he knows it, the music is drifting away, and another voice is speaking. “Good morning, sir, I was told you were interested in speaking to someone about becoming a foster carer?” The voice is Irish, which takes Dan aback for a second, as the other girl had been incredibly posh.

“Er- yes. My name is Daniel Howell and I read on the website that this was the best way to get started?” He doesn’t mean to make it sound like a question, but it absolutely sounds that way. He has to remind himself to stop worrying so much about how he sounds. This person doesn’t know him yet, no need to freak out any more than he already is.

“Well, hello, Daniel, my name is Hazel Hayes, and I’m glad you called. It definitely helps to get the process started over phone rather than in person, so we have time to gather paperwork and things like that. So, have you done any research on foster care yet? Or are you calling to get more information?” Her voice is friendly but serious, as if she’s done this long enough to gauge that it’s usually one of the two options.

“I’ve actually done my research this time,” Dan laughs softly. “I’ve always felt pretty strongly about wanting to do this, and I’m not exactly getting any younger.”

Hazel laughs good-naturedly with him, and he hears the sound of papers shuffling as if he’s on speaker. His anxiety spikes slightly at the thought before getting over it. This person doesn’t know him, it’s ridiculous to be paranoid about his voice. “Right, right. Well, normally I like to ask a few questions, and sort of go from there seeing if you qualify to start the process. Is that alright with you?”

Dan nods before realizing she can’t see him. “Yes, that’s fine.” He sits back in his seat slightly, crossing one ankle over his other leg. Might as well get comfortable if he’s about to be interrogated.

“Right, so how old are you, Mr. Howell?” Hazel sounds friendly but business-like, and he wonders briefly how much she has seen in her line of work. She sounds happy and nice but working in the foster system had to have its downfalls.

“I’m twenty-seven.” He responds, glancing around his office absently. He needs to get some photos or something to put in here, he realizes as he studies his sparse desk. He’s got motivational posters and some bookshelves in this room, but it’s fairly impersonal otherwise. The only picture he does have is a selfie of himself and Phil from a holiday they took to Japan a few years back, and that’s attached to his filing cabinet with a magnet.

He tunes back into the conversation when Hazel asks another question. He barely catches the humming sound she makes when he tells her his age, but he’s more prepared for the next question. “Are you employed, Mr. Howell? And if so, could you give me a range of your income?”

“I am. I work as a guidance counselor at Queensbury Secondary School,” he pauses before responding with his salary, which admittedly wasn’t too impressive, but it was enough for him. Hazel makes a similar noise as she had before, which is beginning to make him slightly nervous.

“Right… Okay, a little different now, but how would you say your support system is? Do you have family, perhaps some close friends who would be available for support within the home?” Hazel questions, sounding almost as if she’s bringing the questioning to an end. He was surprised, as he had expected something fairly different during this call.

“Oh, um. My family’s in Reading, actually.” He hesitates, unsure if this is really something she needs to know. “And I’m pretty introverted generally, so uh, I’ve got a couple of friends who would probably be my support system, I guess.” He hates how hesitant he sounds, but he’s unprepared for this kind of question entirely.

“Well, Mr. Howell,” Hazel begins, sounding like she’s about to deliver some sort of unfortunate noise.

Dan can’t stand the anxiety he feels, and he cuts her off. “Call me Dan, please.” He feels as if she’s about to dash his hopes, he’d like to be addressed by his first name.

“Dan, I want to be honest with you.” Hazel suddenly sounds far less happy, and more tired now, as if she’s drained. “It’s hard to find good foster parents these days, you probably realize this if you’ve researched it. That said, there are certain… qualities, I suppose you could say, that generally ensure that a potential foster carer will be more likely to be approved.”

This sounds a lot like one of those speeches where someone is let down gently, but Dan wants the cold, hard facts, not bad news wrapped up in a pretty bow to distract from the fact that it’s still bad news. “I’m not sure I follow. From everything I read, there wasn’t much you could get disqualified for. Sexual orientation, religion, even the factor about employment didn’t appear to be a problem.” He feels as if he’s jumping the gun with how defensive he sounds, but he honestly can’t help it. He’s wanted this for so long, it wasn’t fair that it could just be taken away so quickly.

Hazel sighs as if she expected this to be his reaction. “I understand, and that’s not quite what I’m saying.”

There’s a pause, and Dan drops his leg, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his desk, one hand holding the phone up to his ear while he places his chin in the other. “Well, please, feel free to elaborate.” He says almost bitterly.

“The factors you mentioned don’t disqualify someone, you’re right. And I’m not saying you are disqualified, but there are factors that can make getting approved harder, and I wouldn’t want to allow you to start this process with false expectations.” She pauses as if she’s waiting for him to process before she continues. “The fact that you’re quite young, by our standards at least, is something to consider. The age is twenty-one and up, but generally the people who get approved the fastest are people who are around thirty or older. Another huge factor is support. This isn’t like fostering puppies, Dan. You will have a child’s life in your hands, and it’s crucial to have a healthy support system around you in order to make sure that you are able to take care of the child to the best of your ability.”

Dan is reeling, as this feels an awful lot like a rejection. His thoughts are racing, stumbling for something, anything that can fix this. Hazel’s talking again before he can think of anything to intervene with.

“And the fact that you’re single, well… We don’t discriminate on the basis of relationship status, but typically couples who decide to foster are generally approved easier than singles, simply because of the fact that two parents allow for more reprieve and a better support system for the child…”

Dan’s sure Hazel keeps talking, but he’s stuck on what she said about him being single. He knows she’s right, but she hadn’t asked, and he hadn’t said any different. His conscience is screaming at him not to do what he’s thinking of doing, but he shoves that little voice in a drawer in his mind, blocking it out. He thinks it’s a shot in the dark, sure, but he did have someone who had promised to support him and do anything he could to help…

“Wait, wait. Sorry, there must have been a misunderstanding. I’m not single.” He interrupts Hazel’s train of thought, his heart now racing as he waits for a reaction. His stomach churns uncomfortably, and he tries to tell himself it’s just the waiting for her response, not because he feels guilty about lying.

“Oh. You aren’t?” Hazel sounds slightly surprised, and he almost feels offended.

“No.” He says slowly and easily, trying to force himself into sounding as casual and natural as possible.

“My apologizes, I just assumed- since you didn’t say anything when I asked about your support system-“ Before she can get much further, he interrupts her yet again.

“Well, yes, but you didn’t ask specifically about partners. It’s my bad, really, I think I just misinterpreted the question.” He lies easily, almost too easily, but he’s relieved that she doesn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, that’s great. Not that it would have been impossible to foster otherwise, but you sound like you’ve done your research, and we really need more people who truly care about doing this for the greater good. And I know that sometimes there are just setbacks for people who aren’t… well, anyway. I assume this means you’ll be fostering together?” She asks, her cheer restored in her voice as she speaks.

Dan shakes his head, surprised at himself for what he’s about to do. At least the little voice in his head has finally shut up. “Yes, we will. My, uh, fiancé, and I will be co-fostering.”

“Lovely. Well, the next step in the process is to attend an information meeting here at the center. I can email you about dates and times, and you and your fiancé can decide on something and just let me know.” The sound of typing fills the line, and Dan can only assume that she’s pulling up her email. After telling her his address, she takes a moment before responding. “Okay! That’s sorted, so you should see an email soon. Thank you for calling, Dan, and I’m looking forward to hearing from you soon! Have a great day!”

Dan responds slightly less enthusiastically before dropping his cell phone to his desk, following it with his head. He gently bangs his head on the smooth surface several times before there’s a knock on his door. “It’s open,” he calls out, trying to settle his expression and his feelings with a sigh as he sits up to greet his guest.

Louise ducks her head in, a smile on her face. “Ready for the meeting at nine?” She asks in that happy, motherly way she has when she’s trying to keep him organized and on schedule. He nods tiredly rubbing a hand down his face, but she must assume it’s because of yesterday’s events, and not due to the fact that he just destroyed his life over the phone. “Good. The boy’s parents should be here then, and we’ll call him in from class to discuss the scholarship and everything in my office.” She smiles once again before giving him a look. “It’ll be okay, Daniel, I promise.”

Dan tries to smile back at her, nodding. “I know, Lou. I know.” He watches as she pulls the door shut as she leaves, before dropping his head back to his desk. After allowing himself a few moments of self-pity, he picks up his phone, deciding to go ahead and face the inevitable. Dialing Phil’s number feels a little like walking towards the edge of a cliff to his imminent death, and he selfishly hopes that he doesn’t answer.

Sadly, whatever gods or beings that control his life aren’t so graceful. Phil answers after the third ring. “Hey, Dan. Are you alright?” Phil asks immediately after answering.

Dan clenches his eyes shut, seriously regretting the situation he’s gotten himself in. Who the hell does something this stupid? Him, apparently. “Er, not exactly. Do you have a minute?” Dan props his head up with the hand that’s holding the phone, laying heavily on it. He briefly hopes that he somehow manages to hang up on him with his face, but he knows they need to have this conversation after what Dan just did.

“Uh, yeah, give me a minute.” He hears Phil say something to his coworkers, probably excusing himself to go talk somewhere in private. Dan’s grateful for this, as he’s probably going to want to yell after he hears what Dan did this time. “Alright, what’s up? You sound really weird and it’s freaking me out.” The worry in Phil’s voice is clear, and Dan tries to cling to that as he tries to gather his courage to speak. Phil cares about him, he can’t do anything too drastic after he hears this… Right?

“Well, you see… Something super funny happened, actually…” Dan begins, hoping that if he presents it as a funny little thing, Phil will be less mad. “So, I called the foster company like I said I would, right? Well…”

~~~

Unfortunately, presenting his mistake as a comedy had not had the desired effect. If anything, it makes it worse.

“You did what?” Phil’s voice is loud, overwhelming the phone’s mic so it sends an inhuman wall of noise through the line. Dan cringes, his finger tracing over the keys on his keyboard as he lets Phil get his anger out. “Daniel, that’s- is that illegal or something? Lying to someone like that?”

Dan shrugs before remembering Phil isn’t there. “I dunno, Phil. It’s not like I asked her if it was illegal to lie about being engaged to someone.” He snaps. He had no right to be angry, and he knew that, but he never fully knew how to act when Phil was angry, as it didn’t happen very often.

“Fuck.” Phil swears quietly, and Dan’s eyes widen slightly. Phil normally didn’t swear too much, so this was surely a testament to how mad he really was. “Well do you think you’ll just tell her you were lying, or say that you broke up or something?”

“What? No! Phil, I can’t. She basically said I didn’t have a real chance at fostering if I didn’t have this. This could be the only way I get to do this.” Dan sits up straighter, swallowing hard.

“So, what are you suggesting? That you just keep lying to her? Seriously, Dan? What about when they do the information meetings? Or better yet, when they do the home inspections? What then?” Phil demands. Dan can almost see him pacing, as he tends to do that when he’s seriously frustrated. Dan almost feels bad for calling him at work, but he knew if he waited it would just drive him crazy.

“No…” He says slowly in regard to what Phil had said. He takes a deep breath, trying to steel himself for what he’s about to ask of his best friend. Although Dan knew deep down that their friendship had survived much worse, he felt that this was something he couldn’t really compare to the situations they’d been in before.

“Then what, Dan?” Phil’s voice sounds almost suspicious, as if he knows that Dan has a solution, and he knows already that he isn’t going to like it.

“You said you would be there for me, right?” Dan says slowly. He glances over at the only picture he had in his office, an old one of photo-Phil smiling broadly over his shoulder. They had been through loads together. Surely, they could survive this together, too. That thought in his mind, he just blurts it out. “I need you to be my fiancé.”

The line is completely silent for several moments. Dan almost thinks the call had failed, but when he pulls his phone away to check, it’s fine. He hesitantly brings it back to his ear, waiting.

Finally, after what seems like hours, Phil’s voice returns. “What?” He whispers.

“Phil, please. I just need you to pretend, okay? Please. I don’t- we both know I don’t have any other friends I can ask. And you said-“ Dan almost continues, but Phil’s voice stops him.

“Stop. Okay? Just stop. I’m at work, Daniel. I know you probably felt like you couldn’t just let this wait, but I’m working. Okay? This is something we need to discuss in person.” Phil stops there, but Dan can tell he isn’t finished, so he just waits quietly until Phil has gathered his thoughts. “You can’t just drop something like this on me and expect me to just agree to it. Just because you fucked up doesn’t mean you can drag me into it too.”

That hurts, but Dan knows he deserves it, even though he also knows Phil will likely apologize for saying it later. “Okay.” He whispers back, nodding his head as he stares down at the little stick figures he had drawn earlier.

The line is quiet for a few more minutes before Phil sighs deeply. “I’ll see you after work, yeah? Just… Give me some time, okay?

“Okay.” Dan says again. He’s not sure when things had ever been less okay.

“I get off at five today, I’ll come by, so we can talk.” Phil hesitates before speaking again. “Just… don’t do anything else until we talk, alright?”

“Alright.” Dan responds. “I’ll see you later, Phil.” Before he hangs up, he repeats Phil’s name. When he hears a hum of acknowledgement, he continues. “I’m really sorry.”

Phil sighs before answering. “I know, Dan. I’ll see you later.”

The call disconnects with a beep and Dan feels the guilt settle in, making its way right under his skin, making him feel filthy with it.

After checking the time and realizing he’s about to be late to the meeting, he quickly shoves his personal life to the back of his mind and struggles to force himself into his work life. There was no good that could come out of getting the two all mixed up, and Dan didn’t intend to be one of those people who made that mistake. So instead, he shook himself and tried to put on a smile to go congratulate the parents of a child who had earned himself a full-ride scholarship to a great university. At least some people in the world weren’t messing up their lives.

~~~

Several hours later, Dan is pacing his lounge nervously as he waits for Phil to get there. He’s not sure if he’s nervous to see Phil’s anger, rather than just hear it on the phone, or if he’s just nervous that Phil might refuse to pretend to be his fiancé for the sake of his foster care situation. Probably a mixture of both.

He jumps a little when he hears a key being shoved into the lock downstairs before he reminds himself that Phil has a key. He forces himself to wait in the lounge instead of meeting him at the door, feeling like that last few moments of distance between them will be better.

“Dan?” Phil calls out as Dan hears him taking his shoes off.

“Upstairs!” Dan answers. He’s trying desperately not to look like a nervous wreck, but he knows he does. He’s wearing his Game of Thrones pajama sweats and a t-shirt, but he suddenly feels like he should have just left his work clothes on. He feels too vulnerable like this, despite the fact Phil had seen him in basically every state of dress and undress.

It’s too late for a wardrobe change, though, because Phil comes up the stairs then, pausing when he sees Dan pacing around in front of the large windows. He appraises him for a moment before raising an eyebrow. “You look like roadkill, mate.” Phil deadpans, dropping onto the sofa, his eyes not leaving Dan’s.

Dan only nods, swallowing the lump building in his throat. He absolutely would not cry. Crying would just be stupid and senseless. He had to be strong, because that’s the kind of thing adults do. They own up to their mistakes and deal with the consequences, even if they suck.

Phil studies Dan for a second before sighing, patting the cushion beside him. “C’mere.”

Dan shuffles over unsurely, sitting down where he’s facing Phil, although he refuses to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I should have asked first, or just not lied period, but I can’t un-lie.” His gaze shifts to the painting he keeps on the cabinet behind the sofa, and he stares at it just to give himself something to do. “I know that doesn’t like, make it better, or whatever. But I am sorry, and I know I fucked up.”

There’s a silence before Phil finally speaks. “I’m not mad anymore.” He whispers softly. Dan’s eyes tentatively shift to meet striking blue ones, and he’s surprised to see that there’s no anger left there. “I was seething at first, sure. You lied to someone about being in a serious relationship, and that’s bad enough, but then you just… Just asked me to do it, as if that’s something you just ask someone.”

Dan tries to make a joke. “I mean… You kind of do ask someone to marry you… This is kind of like that.” He tries to smile, but Phil just stares at him.

“This isn’t real.” He says immediately. Dan’s surprised at how much hearing that hurts, but he shrugs and looks away. It’s not like Phil was wrong. It wasn’t real.

Wait…

“You said ‘this isn’t real’ like you meant it was happening.” Dan is struggling to catch up with the tale he had spun just that morning. “I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do, Phil. If this is going to make things weird, or like if it makes you uncomfortable, we don’t-“

Phil cuts him off then, sighing. “Dan, we both know I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I wasn’t sure I knew I could handle it. Besides, we’ve known each other for ten years. It’s not like either of us have much of a life outside of our friendship anyway.” His sentence is punctuated with a bitter laugh, and Dan can’t help but feel bad, as if he’s the one really holding Phil back from having relationships outside of their friendship. But that would be crazy, because it wasn’t like Dan was standing in his way.

“Yeah…” He studies his hands for a moment before looking up into blue eyes. His words are caught in his throat as Phil just looks at him with a sort of soft, fond look. He looked tired, probably due to the stress that Dan’s terrible announcement of the situation had caused this morning. Even with as angry as he probably was still feeling, he still looked at Dan like there was something to be seen. Like Phil actually liked what he saw, even.

Dan shakes the thought away. He had never had the guts to feel the way he felt about his best friend. He certainly didn’t have the guts now, not when it wasn’t even real. But still, Dan allows himself to feel entirely grateful for the way Phil is handling the situation. The whole thing could have gone in a very different direction, but luckily, Phil was pretty much the best person in the world, and Dan wouldn’t have wanted to be stuck in this situation with anyone else.

“We’ll have to figure a few things out, you know.” Phil says quietly a moment later, thoroughly breaking the spell Dan had been under, stuck in his own head.

“What sort of things?” Dan asks, shifting on the couch so he can tuck his legs under him. This gives him some extra height, and he props his elbow up on the backrest of the couch, dropping his chin onto his hand to look down at Phil.

“Well, for one, if we’re going to do this, we need to work out a convincing backstory. How we met, who proposed to who, all that. Also, might need to get some rings.” He holds up his bare left hand and wags his ring finger around. “If I’m going to be your arm candy, I’m going to require some decent costuming.” His lips quirk into a smirk at the surprise on Dan’s face.

“Oh. Right.” Dan allows his gaze to follow Phil’s hand as it drops back into his lap, and when he realizes that he’s practically staring at his best friend’s crotch, his eyes quickly flit away, his cheeks heating up. “Well, I figure we stay as close to the truth as possible. We don’t change anything other than throwing in a convincing proposal story. We’ve lived together before, so we already know all of each other’s worst habits, which will make it much easier to act like a couple.” Dan shrugs.

Phil shifts, licking his lips before speaking. Dan tries very hard not to follow that movement, but his eyes betray him. “About that, actually. You do realize that they’ll do home visits, right? And if we’re fully doing this, I’ll seriously have to co-foster with you, Dan.”

The truth hadn’t been put quite so bluntly yet, and it wasn’t until Phil said it that Dan fully realized just what he had gotten his best friend into. Not only had he asked him to pretend to be in a long-term, committed relationship with himself, but by doing all this he was also asking Phil to agree to be a parent. They’d have to sign the papers together and seriously commit to becoming foster parents as a unit.

“Did you think about this at all, Dan?” Phil is squinting at him, looking miles away and far too close all at once.

Dan suddenly feels nauseous as thoughts of Phil feeding a baby or teaching a little boy how to ride a bike, or even arguing with a teenage girl cycle through his mind, each of them making him dizzy. Not because he didn’t like to imagine himself co-parenting with Phil; actually, quite the opposite. This future that he’s basically throwing himself into looks so good, and he feels like he might throw up with the thought that it wouldn’t actually be real.

His current existential crisis comes to a screeching halt as he remembers Charlotte. He isn’t doing this for himself or to satisfy some twisted fantasy he might’ve had ten years ago about having a family with Phil. He was doing this because he wanted to help kids like Charlotte, who didn’t have a family that gave a damn. Throwing every other thought out of his head helps him get a grip on what he thinks he’s feeling. It’s nothing other than some old memories and dreams that never came to be, and never would, either. Fixating on it now wouldn’t help him, or the kids he truly wanted to help.

Dan doesn’t realize how much he’d tuned out until he tunes back in and finds Phil’s hand on his thigh, squeezing gently, his eyes wide with worry. “Are you alright? You looked sick. Are you… are you regretting this already?” Phil asks softly.

Shaking his head, Dan gives him an uneasy smile that probably does nothing to convince Phil that he’s alright. “No, no. Of course not. I wouldn’t have asked anyone else to do this, you know that, right? That may sound weird, but you’re the only person I think I could have trusted with this.” Phil nods, uncertain but the worry on his face softens. “I guess I just feel a little guilty. I get that I’m asking more than just “hey, pretend to be engaged to me!” I’m literally asking you to step into a parenting role, which is something I didn’t even really consider when I asked in the first place.”

Phil nods slowly. “Yeah… You know that’s why I sort of freaked out earlier. It wasn’t because of what you asked, exactly.” He hesitates then, looking away from Dan. “It was mostly just the implications behind what you asked that made me a little… uneasy.”

“I know.” Dan nods, picking at the skin around his nails. “I realize that, now. If you…” He takes a deep breath before offering Phil an out. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel like I’ll be mad if you don’t. I really want this, but that doesn’t mean you do.” Dan laughs without humor. “Hell, I really don’t even know if you even want kids, let alone if you’re ready to start being a parent now.”

There’s a beat of silence where both men seem to be lost in their own thoughts before Phil speaks again. “I don’t think anyone is ever really ready to be a parent, you know? I think they all just jump into it at some point, but I don’t think the majority of parents are ever fully ready.” He shrugs then. “And I’m probably not ready either, but I know I want to do this with you. I know how much this means to you, and I know I’d hate myself later if I didn’t at least try.”

Dan almost tears up, but instead he laughs, shoving Phil gently. “You already sound like a parent, all wise and stuff.” They both laugh quietly before the silence resumes. “Thank you,” Dan whispers.

Phil glances up at him, quirking an eyebrow. “You’re welcome. But I’m not just doing this for you. I’ve always said I wanted to foster if I could. You’re just giving me a good excuse to do it.” Phil grins, and Dan rolls his eyes. He figured they’d had enough serious conversation for one night. They still had a few things to work out, but he was starving right now, so he figured that could wait until after they eat something.

“Right.” He stands up to go fetch his laptop, so they can order something. After the day they’d had, he figured they deserved to be lazy and eat takeaway. “Do you want Indian or Chinese tonight?” He asks as he pulls his MacBook off the desk across the lounge.

“Chinese sounds good, actually.” Phil responds, reaching over to grab the remote before turning the tv on. They were so comfortable in each other’s homes that it was almost comical.

A few minutes later Dan places their usual order before closing his laptop and putting it back where he got it. “Do you wanna talk about some of the stuff we need to work out before the food gets here?” He asks, suddenly feeling slightly awkward. He feels that his awkwardness is justified, however, seeing as it’s not every day you find yourself fake engaged to your best friend.

Phil nods, putting the remote beside him on the couch without selecting a show to watch. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. And then we can just lay around being lazy for the rest of the night.” He smiles at Dan.

Dan returns to his earlier seat beside Phil, nodding at his plan. “Are you staying over tonight?” He asks. He almost wishes Phil would say no so he could have some space to process all this, but then he feels bad because it’s actually been a couple weeks since they’d slept over at each other’s flats.

Phil nods, pulling the blanket from off the back of the couch where Dan had left it last night. “Might as well. Er- unless you don’t want me to?” He asks, glancing at Dan with slightly pink cheeks.

Shaking his head, Dan shoves Phil lightly. “You know I like having you around. Of course, I want you to stay.” He rolls his eyes at the absurdity of Phil suggesting otherwise. The thought of him sleeping over prompts a different thought, however. “Speaking of that, though.” He almost blushes when Phil looks at him in question, but they probably both realized that this was going to come up. “We’re going to need to live together.”

The surprise that briefly crosses Phil’s face is quickly followed by understanding. “Oh, yeah. I kind of just glossed over that part in my panic, I think.” He brings a hand up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck, his eyes avoiding Dan’s.

“Well, it’s not like we’ve never lived together. It’s just been like, what, three years? Four?” Dan honestly doesn’t remember how long it had been since they moved out of their last shared apartment and into separate ones, but he knew it’d been at least a couple years. Honestly besides the fact that they no longer lived together full-time, not much had changed. They still saw each other basically every day, and they often spent the night at each other’s flats. Yet somehow, they still weren’t sick of each other.

“Four.” Phil responds distractedly. “You know, my lease is actually up in about three months.” He says nonchalantly.

Dan smiles at this. It would make things much easier, especially since the approval process could take up to six months. If Phil was going to have to either renew his own lease or move soon, this was basically perfect timing. “Well, you know mine’s not up for another two years.” Dan responds in the same nonchalant fashion that Phil had.

It has the desired effect, and Phil laughs. “So, I guess that means I’ll be moving in here?” He asks, leaning his head on the back of the sofa and tilting to face Dan. The way the light now falls across his face is a little too perfect, and Dan mentally curses him for managing to look so effortlessly brilliant. That’s a thought he can totally have about his best friend, right?

“Well, I mean, if you want. We could always just go with yours or into a new one, but I figure my flat’s pretty big as it is. I have the spare bedroom and that other room I have as an office but don’t really use. I think it could work.” Dan nods, trying to act like he isn’t as excited as he is about the prospect of them moving in together again. Putting the whole situation aside, he really did miss living with his best friend sometimes, even when he did annoying shit like leaving the cupboards open.

“I think that’s a great idea. I’ve always liked your flat better than mine, anyway.” Phil shrugs as if it’s common knowledge, but Dan is honestly a little shocked. Phil must notice this, because he rolls his eyes. “Come on, Dan. I always prefer to come over here instead of us staying at mine.”

Dan pouts slightly at the way Phil implies it’s so obvious. “I just thought maybe you didn’t want to tidy up, so you just thought it was easier to come here.” That earns him an elbow to the ribs, but he just laughs. “Alright, well if that’s sorted. We can start moving your things in whenever you want to.” Another thought occurs to him then, and he blushes. “Er- when we get approved and we get a child placed with us, we’ll probably have to share a bedroom.” He feels awkward suggesting it, but he knows it’s true.

Phil shrugs as if this doesn’t bother him nearly as much as it bothers Dan. “I figured. I hope you don’t steal blankets as bad as you used to.”

The comment is quick and just a general observation by someone who was close enough to Dan to have platonically shared a bed with him enough to know that sort of thing, but Dan still feels a blush crawling up his neck. Phil knew him so well, but sometimes the fact that he knew little domestic details like that still managed to surprise him.

“I do not do that. I don’t really think I ever did.” Dan offers lamely in his own defense.

Phil shrugs, staring at the tv as it cycles through different Netflix options. “Say what you want, Howell, but when we start sleeping together the truth will come out.”

Dan’s about to make a sarcastic comment, but the sound indicating that the take away guy is there is enough to make him think better of it, instead heading to the buzzer to let him in. “I’ll be right back. Do you want Ribena or some wine?” Dan asks as he grabs his wallet from where he’d left it earlier.

“Ribena, please.” Phil laughs as he allows himself to sink further down on the sofa. “I have to work tomorrow, and I don’t exactly feel like getting wine drunk tonight.”

Dan rolls his eyes but finds himself unable to stop grinning as he goes to collect the takeaway. “Boring,” he teases.

Phil sits up a little, before nodding to the staircase. “Want me to help carry everything back up?”

Shrugging, Dan gestures for Phil to follow him downstairs, where the delivery man is probably tempted to just leave. He goes to open the door with Phil by his side, double checking that the cash he had was enough to cover the food and a tip.

“Here you go,” the boy says, holding the food out. Phil reaches for it as Dan finishes counting the money before handing it over. The delivery boy looks a little surprised at first but smiles as he tucks the tip money into his pocket. “Thank you! You guys have a good night and enjoy your meal!”

Just as Dan goes shut the door, Phil calls out, “Thanks, you too!”

The door closes with a click and Dan turns around, giving Phil a look, raising his eyebrows when Phil doesn’t seem to catch on. “Phil,” he says slowly.

“What?” He asks, already halfway up the staircase.

Dan rolls his eyes as he follows. “You said “You too” to him,” he explains, exasperated.

Phil glances back at him before giggling. “No, I- you! He knew what I meant!”

“You should never be allowed to speak to anyone, ever.” Dan can only shake his head at his best friend.

“Oh, thank god, I won’t have to talk to you anymore!”

[denimbex1986]

Currently on Digital and coming to 4K Ultra HD from writer/director Andrew Haigh based on Taichi Yamada’s Strangers and Searchlight Pictures is ALL OF US STRANGERS.

Adam (Andrew Scott) is living a very secluded life in his high tower apartment in London. A screenwriter, he spends his time writing and being alone until one night he meets neighbor Harry (Paul Mescal). A bit drunk, Harry tries to entice Adam to spend the night. Trying to be polite, Adam makes it clear he isn’t interested. The next day, Adam is off to visit Mum (Claire Foy) and Dad (Jamie Bell) who are happy to see him.

Coming back home he sees Harry again but this time he invites him into the apartment. There begins their passionate relationship. They talk about their families as Harry tells Adam that there is a disconnect with his own parents. Spending a night out on the town, they drink and dance their troubles away. After a fitful night of dreams, Adam tells Harry about his own parents and wants them all to meet.

But reality slowly makes its way to Adam and he holds on to the things he loves.

Scott as Adam is stunning in the role of a writer who is dealing with so much emotion in his life. Relying on his parents for support, he is trying to come to terms with the events of his life. When a love enters into the picture, it is just another piece of his life that is blissful but filled with intensity. Scott moves in and out of the story like his feet are not touching the ground. He flows so smoothly and I am with him every frame through joy and heartbreak. This is a stunning performance by Scott.

Mescal as Harry is the larger-than-life person that seems to awaken something in Adam. He is light, funny, charming and has no judgements toward Adam. At first glance, his character gives off vibes that even had me backing away a bit and that says everything about what Mescal’s performance brings. This character draws you in slowly, is too charming to be ignored and it is all Mescal.

Foy as Mum is supporting of her son and shows him love and understanding. She listens to how Adam is feeling and is such a calming presence for him. That is what Foy brings to the story, with the grace she has come to be known for (watch THE CROWN for another stunning performance) and the eyes of an old soul. Bell as Dad has a history with Adam that is a bit strained as clearly there are things that need to be said between them. I enjoyed Bell’s performance as a man who has a difficult time sharing his feelings.

Searchlight Pictures is responsible for such films as SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE, 12 YEARS A SLAVE, THE SHAPE OF WATER and THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING MISSOURI. They have an extensive film library as well as documentaries, scripted series, and limited series. For more information, please visit www.searchlightpictures.com.

Bonus Features include Featurettes Roots of the Story – Uncover how the director blended his own personal story into the making of this moving film. Hear the cast and crew and learn how the filmmakers approached recreating the look and feel of the ‘80s, from the sets to the hair and clothing and Building Adam’s World – Discover how Adam’s isolated existence was shaped through constructed sets. Visit the locations of exterior shots and learn about the director’s choice to have Adam’s world feel real, and yet not quite real.

ALL OF US STRANGERS has won awards from the Valladolid International Film Festival, Montclair Film Festival, British Independent Film Awards, National Board of Review, Los Angeles Film critics Association Awards, Kansas City Film Critics Circle, and London Film Critics’ Circle.

This film is an emotional roller coaster from beginning to end with Adam at the helm. It is a story of loneliness, love, want of love and family. It is a powerful look at the complexity of life through the eyes of this haunted man. Director Haigh gives us nothing to hide behind when we feel as if there is an intrusion into Adam’s life. It is right before us and the emotion falls over us wave after wave.

Filmed beautifully with an amazing score, ALL OF US STRANGERS is insightful, complex, tender, and gauntlet of emotion. Might I suggest a box of tissue and someone to cuddle with as this moving piece of filmmaking doesn’t mind the teardrops nor our own family emotions mixing with Adams. In fact, I think it wants exactly that.

In the end – the paths to love are many!'

[imaginesandsmut]

I’m Yours

Words: 1637

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x reader

Warnings: lots of tooth rotting fluff. and cute Shawn

Writers note: I’m really back on my Shawn Mendes shit. but when have I ever stopped?

Shawn is on tour and is scrolling through old photos and videos. Desperately missing y/n and wishing she was there with him

Shawn was flicking through his photos. Smiling faces and happy people looked back at him and he sat on his plane. Shawn was on tour again and missed home, he thought that going through old memories might help but it seems to be doing the opposite. With every photo he looked at, he wanted to go back to that moment with them, with her.

Shawn asked y/n if she wanted to go on tour with him, saying that it’ll be fun and she can see all the major cities with him. Of course, they both knew she couldn’t, she had work and school to do and she couldn’t just drop it all for Shawn, as much as they both wished she could.

So now Shawn is here, on his private plane, staring at old photos and counting down the days until he’s back at home with her.

Shawn’s thumb swiped to a video, the one where he caught y/n dancing to ‘I’m yours’ by Jason Mraz. Shawn taps the play button and listens to y/n singing the words and dancing in his kitchen.

“It cannot wait, I’m yours,” y/n sings whilst making her coffee in the kitchen, Shawn is pretending to be reading the news on his phone but has been secretly recording her since the song started. y/n looks over and sees her boyfriend hiding his smile from behind his phone, “come dance with me, Mendes.”

“No, no, you keep doing your solo,” Shawn laughs as y/n makes her way over to grab his hand. Shawn props his phone up to rest on his mug so he can catch this moment together. The break in the song stops and y/n continues to sing whilst holding Shawn’s hands and swaying them.

“Open up your mind and see like me, open up your plans and damn your free.” Her voice fills his ears as he smiles down at her, Shawn pulls her closer so they’re swaying together. “look into your heart and you’ll find love, love, love, love.”

This is the moment Shawn realized he was in love with y/n. This small moment. It held such a sacred part in his heart and he couldn’t be happier that he has caught it on camera. Her eyes light up every time they make eye contact and his smile couldn’t be any wider. They’re both in sweatpants and oversized shirts, the whole arura of the moment couldn’t be any better. They’re so relaxed with one another and so in love with one another.

“There’s no need to complicate, our time is short,” y/n spins herself out of Shawn’s arms during the line and looks into his eyes, “I’m yours.”

God he wanted to marry her right then and there.

Shawn pulled her back in and spun her so her back was to his chest but they were still holding hands, they danced for a while like this before she spun back out and tried to get her coffee. Shawn didn’t want to stop so he wrapped his arms around her waist with her back to him and sung the lyrics into her ear.

“But I won’t hesitate no more, no more.” She was smiling down as Shawn pried her back away from the bench and back to the middle of the kitchen. “It cannot wait, I’m yours.”

The two keep dancing for the rest of the song. Singing the lyrics with each other and to each other. The song ends and Shawn leans down to kiss y/n’s lips, softly, before she smiled and pushed him away playfully to go get her coffee.

The video ends with Shawn staring at y/n’s back for a few seconds before walking over to his phone and stopping the video. The whole moment between the two was all caught on camera, the picture was perfect and the audio was amazing. The video even caught the hushed voices of them whispering the song to each other. Shawn cherished the video so much that watching it now filled him with sadness. He missed y/n so much that watching the video made him want to cancel the tour and go straight home to her.

“Hey Shawn,” Andrew speaks up from his seat, gaining the attention of the curly haired boy, “we’re about to land. Grab your things.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Shawn turns off his phone and shoves it in his jean jacket pocket, packing up his scattered notebooks and pencils in the process.

The team were in France and had a deadline of 19 hours before his first show there, so there was a lot of rushing and trying to get past all the cameras and fans. Shawn tried to take a photo with everyone there but he really needed to leave.

Practice done, shower had, clothes changed and nerves high. Shawn was ready. 2 hours before he’s expected to be on stage and he gets a call from y/n. Shawn rushes to answer it with a swift hello.

“Hey Mendes.” God her voice could make him drop to his knees.

“Hey baby, I’ve missed you,” Shawn was always upfront about how he felt when it came to y/n, always telling her what he needed to say, “I know it has only been a few weeks but it feels like years.”

Y/n’s chuckle could be heard from through the phone, Shawn closes his eyes and smiles, “I’ve missed you too.”

‘When I come back, we’re going on hiatus until we get sick of each other.”

“Could that even happen?”

“Never.” Shawn looks around and sees that everyone is looking at him, the room is small but it’s not like he’s doing anything major to get their attention.

“Well,” her voice seems to transcend the phone and float around the room, y/n steps through a door that led into the room, “hope you don’t get sick of me when I join you for a bit.”

Shawn throws his phone on the couch and takes two large strides before wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her around. Shawn nuzzles his face into y/n’s neck and takes a deep breath, she smells like home and he has missed it.

Everyone laughs and claps, y/n is giggling and holding on tight, it’s a good moment.

“I thought you had finals?” Shawn is worried that y/n is leaving her responsibilities for him, he doesn’t want to take her away from her own life.

“I’ve finished them early, turns out I’m pretty good at getting my shit together when I need to,” y/n jokes which earns a chuckle from everyone who is still watching.

“How long are you gonna be with me on tour?” Shawn wanted her to stay for the whole tour but he knows that she needs to get back home, she feels scared that she will distract him too much and take his attention away from the fans. Maybe she’s right but Shawn will never admit it, he wants her to stay.

“Only for a few nights, enough time for us to see some touristy stuff and take really bad photos for your mum.” She smiles and sways his hands back and forth, biting her lip and staring up at him with those beautiful eyes of hers.

Shawn gives a little pout to express his emotions on her small stay but it slips away when she pulls on the front of his shirt and kisses him. He grins into the kiss and grabs a hold of her waist to bring her closer, leaning forward and pressing his chest to hers.

Groans sound throughout the room from everyone watching and they break apart, y/n hides her face in his chest as Shawn laughs at everybody's reactions.

“As much as I love this,” Teddy speaks up, coming over to fix Shawn’s hair, “we gotta get going.”

Within the chaos of people packing up and getting Shawn’s look ready, his eyes never leave y/n. She’s laughing with the whole crew and talking with everyone, Shawn had never met someone so beautiful.

30 minutes until he’s on stage and final adjustments have been made. Now everyone is waiting and talking about whatever but Shawn has huddled himself and y/n into a corner for some time alone.

“How long have we known each other?” Shawn speaks up, earning a weird look from y/n.

“A few years, why?”

“I once said in a qna that if I feel the way about a girl the way I feel about music, then she’s the one,” he pauses, looking down at her in his arms, “I never realized I felt like that already, I never realized it was already in love.”

“Shawn,” y/n’s eyes were wide as she looked up at her boyfriend, her best friend, her Shawn, “what are you saying?”

“I love you, y/n. I’ve always been in love with you and one day I’m going to marry you. Not now cause we both have so many things left to do in life but when we’re both ready, and if you’ll have me, I promise myself to you.” Shawn hasn’t looked away from y/n’s face, showing his vulnrability to her and waiting for her answer.

“And I promise myself to you too, Mendes.”

Shawn grabs the back of y/n’s neck and pulls her in for a deep kiss. Smiling so much that he has to take a break, resting his forehead on hers.

“Shawn,” someone calls out but the lovebirds can’t bother looking away from each other to see, “time to go up.”

Shawn says a quick thank you and steps away from y/n, says a small goodbye to her and walks up onto stage. Throughout the whole concert, Shawn gives his performance, he sings his hardest and has the biggest smile on his face. He’s doing it all for her and wants the world to know.

[johnnymundano]

The House That Dripped Blood (1971)

Directed by Peter Duffell

Screenplay by Robert Bloch

Music by Michael Dress

Country: United Kingdom

Running time: 102 minutes

CAST

"Framework"

John Bennett as Detective Inspector Holloway

John Bryans as A.J. Stoker

John Malcolm as Sergeant Martin

"Method For Murder"

Denholm Elliott as Charles Hillyer

Joanna Dunham as Alice Hillyer

Tom Adams as Richard/Dominic

Robert Lang as Dr. Andrews

"Waxworks"

Peter Cushing as Philip Grayson

Joss Ackland as Neville Rogers

Wolfe Morris as Waxworks Proprietor

"Sweets to the Sweet"

Christopher Lee as John Reid

Nyree Dawn Porter as Ann Norton

Chloe Franks as Jane Reid

Hugh Manning as Mark

Carleton Hobbs as Dr. Bailey

"The Cloak"

Jon Pertwee as Paul Henderson

Ingrid Pitt as Carla Lynde

Geoffrey Bayldon as Theo von Hartmann

Jonathan Lynn as Mr. Petrich

NB: I watched this via the 2019 Second Sight UK Blu-Ray release and the picture is really fantastic (technical term there). So, if you were wondering, now you know; this is the copy to own.

The House That Dripped Blood is a British 1970s anthology horror movie from Amicus, and I make no bones about the fact that I am totally partial to that jam, pal. I grew up watching these movies, from a ridiculously unsuitable age, on Friday and Saturday nights with my mum while dad was down the pub. Their ridiculous delights are fused into my brain by the flame of nostalgia, more thoroughly even than those of ‘70s Jonah Hex comics. (And ‘70s Jonah Hex comics are pretty fused in there too. Tony DeZuniga; he da boy!). You came to the wrong place for impartiality, basically. The House That Dripped Blood is horrortastic.

Putting the lie to the spectacularly enticing title there is no actual blood in The House That Dripped Blood, but there is definitely a house. And it’s around this house that the four fear inducing stories revolve. But every proper portmanteau demands a framing device and so the movie starts with the arrival of uppity Inspector Holloway (John Bennett) who has been dispatched by Scotland Yard to investigate the disappearance of horror movie star Paul Henderson (Jon Pertwee) from The House That Dripped Blood. Obviously the house is never referred to as “The House That Dripped Blood” as that would put prospective tenants off; bit of a real estate tip there for you.

Unlike most police investigations, Bennett’s takes the form of people telling him far-fetched stories about the previous occupants as though this might give him a clue as to Henderson’s fate. It’s an interesting approach to policework. Luckily, Bennett, a copper singularly lacking in ratiocination, at no point even begins to wonder how exactly the people telling him the stories know what happened, since most of the people who could have told them end up dead or insane. The answer would be that these are a bunch of punchy shorts scripted by pulp wonder Robert Bloch and the house is just a big old McGuffin to hang them off. And learning that might be a bit too meta for a common movie plod to handle.

First up is Method for Murder wherein debonair horror author Charles Hillyer (Denholm Elliot) rents the house to get some peace in which to write another of his (apparently terrible) potboilers. Unnervingly Hillyer’s new opus concerning Dominic, a strangler with a bowl haircut and British Teeth©™®, starts to bleed into his reality, and the possibility that he may be losing his mind may not be the worst option on offer. Denholm Elliot (1922 – 1992) was never a star, but he was a fantastic actor all round; his particular forte was a kind of nervy self-assurance constantly on the cusp of crumbling into wild-eyed desperation. The kind of thing it takes a lengthy, poorly constructed sentence to describe in English but in German is probably encompassed by a single word that sounds like someone cheerfully stamping on chicken bones. Elliot’s very good at it, whatever it is, and he gets plenty of chance to demonstrate it here, as Bloch’s plotting turns the screws until he pops. Everyone else is very good, particularly Robert Lang as Dr. Andrews, who is the perfect oily 1970s personification of a psychiatrist. And it would be remiss of me to omit to mention Denholm Elliot’s superb salmon pink shirt. Personally, I find fashion is one of the finest characters in British ‘70s horror movies, and in The House That Dripped Blood fashion is on fine form.

As is soon apparent in Waxworks when Philip Grayson (the always marvellous Peter Cushing) sports a spellbindingly classy cravat and jacket affair. His gobstopper red smoking jacket is also quite special, but it’s the cravat ensemble which carries him through most of the episode and takes the trophy. This eerie creepster is about a retired financier who rents the house to brood while listening to records and looking at a photo of a woman from his past. When he isn’t posing by the weir in a melancholy way Philip walks into town where there are actual shops (this is before the Internet and 10 years of Tory government had reduced the English high street to charity shops, boarded up windows and Gregg’s The Bakers) and finds the world’s most morbid waxworks. Haunted by the display of Salome (who is supposed to look like the lady from his past; you have to take this on trust since the waxwork isn’t exactly life-like) Philip is visited by his old chum Neville (the ever forthright Joss Ackland), who has a penchant for neck scarves that resemble an acid trip made silk. Both men have the woman in common but prefer to elliptically skirt around the troublesome issue and pretend it doesn’t matter anymore; Bloch knows nobody does emotional cowardice quite like the English. Soon Neville meets Salome too and the blokes race each other to the horrific finish. Joss Ackland is great, obviously, but it’s worth noting that, as ever, Cushing puts in a performance far more moving and tragic than the material deserves, and so makes it sting all the more. Fans of ‘70s unconscious misogyny might risk getting all turgid since Waxworks is all about a woman who ruins men’s lives but doesn’t actually feature a real woman. Ultimately though such people will have to go home empty handed as it’s clearly the men doing it to themselves and blaming it on a woman, which is a pretty clever bait and switch by Bloch.

Bloch’s quietly understated intelligence is even better demonstrated by Sweets to the Sweet which looks like it’s about witchcraft but is actually about the damage a lack of love can do to a child. Widower John Reid (Christopher Lee) moves into the house so he can commute to the city and do his business in whatnot and whathaveyou and have his child Jane (Chloe Franks) home-schooled in a controlled environment. Reid is all about control and Christopher Lee is ideally suited to the role, bringing all his not inconsiderable clipped prissiness to bear without totally eliminating Reid’s humanity. Reid loves Jane but he also fears her. But why? (why does he fear her, not why does he love her; c’mon, people, work with me here). It’s a conundrum Jane’s newly appointed teacher Ann Norton (Nyree Dawn Porter) unwisely seeks to solve. Plenty in this one to chew on viz a viz kids, parental responsibility and the need to keep a close eye on candles and razor shavings. Probably enough for a dissertation in fact, but, putting the chalk and elbow patches to one side, it is mostly about witchcraft because that’s spooky fun; no one wants to watch an unvarnished 20 minute segment on the emotional abuse of a child in a horror movie. That’s what Home Alone (1990) is for.

Seeking to send the audience out into the ‘70s night to catch the last bus on a bit of a high, the final terror tale, The Cloak, spoofs about in an enjoyably goofy fashion. Prima-donna horror star Paul Henderson (Jon Pertwee) moves into the house to be near the filming of his new (apparently terrible; probably based on a script by Charles Hillyer) movie. Being a great believer in authenticity and disappointed by the cloak provided by the doddering wardrobe mistress,  Henderson sources a suitably eerie item of attire from Theo von Hartmann (Geoffrey Bayldon), a ridiculously freaky tat shop owner with a suspiciously Teutonic moniker. When wearing the cloak   Henderson’s portrayal of a vampire becomes a little bit too authentic for comfort and he learns a steep lesson in the Hollywood food chain from his comically pneumatic co-star Carla Lynde (Ingrid Pitt). It’s slight stuff but pretty funny with everyone camping it up like a cub scout sleep out will be arriving imminently (camping; tents; scouts; c’mon, folks). I vaguely recall reading that Pertwee claimed the whole movie was supposed to be in this mirthful mode, and that he based his character on co-star Christopher Lee, but didn’t tell Lee (obviously). If I ever get the time to wade through the multitude of extras on the Blu-ray maybe I’ll find confirmation. As it is, watching the movie was pleasure enough for now. But like I said I’m practically marinated in this stuff. Nevertheless I persist in the belief that people who haven’t been knocking about for half a century would still find something to enjoy in The House That Dripped Blood; even if it’s just that cracking picture quality.

[chuffyfan87]

Growing Pains. Part 15c (NSFW)

Peter closed the door a little, “Holly’s really worried.”

"What about?"

“About mum, how ill she looks.” Peter sighed sadly, “Are you ok dad?”

"I'm fine. We've just got to get your mum through this latest relapse, that's what's most important right now."

“Why has she relapsed?” Peter asked.

"I honestly don't know." Charlie sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“How can me and Holly help dad?”

"Just support and encourage her. That's all any of us can do."

Peter nodded sadly, “I’ll do whatever I can dad. For both of you." He paused." Is Sarah still here?"

"She's out at the moment with your mum but she's still staying here and will be back soon. Is that a problem?"

“Its a bit awkward.” Peter replied, “It’s like one of your exes just rocking up and living here.”

"I know, I know. It was your mum's idea coz she was concerned about Sarah's living arrangements."

Peter frowned, “What are her living arrangements?”

"She was pretty much sofa surfing."

“Oh...” Peter sighed, “She needs to be safe, especially now she’s pregnant.”

"Now do you see why your mum insisted she stay here?" Charlie asked gently.

“Yes but...” Peter sighed. “I’m allowed to be angry about being lied to, aren’t I?”

"Of course you are. You should have seen your mum the evening after she found out..!"

“Let me guess, she went ballistic?”

"She has a tendency to forget that you're a grown man now." Charlie chuckled.

Peter laughed gently, “Holly and I talked about our future last night.”

"Oh?" Charlie visibly brightened.

“I’m going to start looking at houses, so we can move in together.”

"So soon?"

“I want to find a house that Holly and I can raise a family in. In the future.”

"Just don't rush into anything son. Holly is a lovely girl but I don't want to see you get hurt again."

“I’ll try not to rush into anything.” Peter hesitated before continuing. “I... I lied to Holly last night.” He looked down at the floor.

"What about?"

“She asked me how I felt about finding out I wasn’t the dad. I told her I was relieved but that wasn’t entirely true.” Peter mumbled.

"Its understandable to have mixed feelings. I went through the whole spectrum of emotions over you." Charlie admitted.

“I was just getting used to the idea of being a dad. I brought something for it, for her.” Peter sighed. “You did?”

"Even though I knew I was already a dad by that point I felt so conflicted over everything." Charlie paused. "You could still be a part of her life if you wanted to be. If this family shows you anything it's that it doesn't take blood to be family."

“Yeah because that’s not gonna mess with Sarah’s head at all, is it?” Peter rose an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t be fair on her.”

"She wanted so desperately for you to be her baby's father." Charlie shared.

“I know.”

"Maybe you, Sarah and Holly should sit down together and talk?"

“Talk about what?”

"What happens now going forward."

“I move on with Holly. Sarah moves on with her daughter.” Peter replied.

"OK. If that's what you both want..."

“It wouldn’t be fair on Holly or Sarah if I became part of that baby’s life.” Peter pointed out, “Nor would it be fair on the baby either.”

"I totally agree. I just wanted to make sure you'd thought it all through properly."

“I have dad, you don’t need to worry.” Peter smiled.

"I'm your dad, it's my job!" Charlie chuckled.

Peter was about to say something else when the front door opened and Sarah and Duffy arrived back.

They were chatting and giggling excitedly, both laden with several shopping bags.

Peter stepped into the hallway, an awkwardness instantly apparent between him and Sarah.

"Peter! I didn't know you were coming round." Duffy grinned.

“Hi mum. I came to see if you were ok.”

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" As Duffy placed the bags down it became instantly apparent the kind of shopping she and Sarah had spent the morning indulging in...

“Because you’re ill?” Peter looked at the shopping bags.

"Who told you that?" Duffy replied dismissively.

The bags were filled with various items of clothing and other equipment.

“I don’t need to be told, I can see it when I look at you.” Peter answered back.

"You worry too much Peter." Duffy rolled her eyes. She turned to Sarah. "No you don't! I'll take those upstairs. You go have a sit down."

Peter sighed, “You’re stubborn.” He replied to his mum.

"And you're fast turning into your father!"

“Good. Have you thought about going back to treatment?” Peter asked.

"I have an appointment booked for tomorrow actually." Duffy retorted, picking up the bags and heading towards the stairs.

“I only worry about you! We all do!”

Sarah remained stood in the hallway, “Hi.” She said quietly to Peter.

Duffy harumphed as she walked up the stairs.

"Hi." Peter replied, his gaze still on the stairs.

"I'm going to check on the boys..." Charlie uttered, heading to the stairs.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked as she moved closer to Peter.

"Yeh... Holly is here." He replied pointedly.

“Ok.”

Peter pushed his hands into his pockets. He couldn't believe how awkward he now felt around someone he once loved. "How you getting on finding a place to live?"

“Not great,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’m gonna move back in with AJ. It’s what’s best...”

"Does he treat you right?" Peter wasn't sure why that was important to him but it was.

“Not really but I’m pregnant with nowhere else to go.”

"I'm sorry. For all of this." He sighed.

“It’s not your fault.” Sarah pointed out.

"Still..." He shrugged.

“Your parents have been great.” She smiled, “I’ve been lucky but it’s time for me to stand on my own two feet, wherever that may be.”

"OK. I'm sure mum will still make a point of checking in on you."

“Probably. Your mum cares too much. She’s got a heart of gold.”

"She cares about everyone except herself." He sighed.

“She’s a nurse. You’ll find those that are healthcare professionals are the worst type of people to look after themselves.”

"My parents are a perfect case in point." He smiled slightly.

Sarah nodded, the awkward silence descending over them again.

"I... Erm... I... I bought something for the baby..." Peter admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

“You did? What was it?”

"Its not much. Just a little stuffed toy." He mumbled.

“You didn’t have to Peter but thank you.”

"Its at the flat. I'll drop it round sometime."

“Thank you.”

"Peter are you..? Oh!" Holly stopped just inside the dining room doorway.

Peter turned and nodded. He moved back to Holly and wrapped his arm around her waist, “Mum and Sarah have been shopping.”

"Did someone warn your dad not to check the joint account?" Holly giggled.

“Not yet but I think he knows not to.”

The trio was prevented from further awkwardness when Jake burst through the front door clutching a letter. "Bro!" He grinned as he spotted Peter.

“What bro?” Peter wondered why Jake was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"I'm free at last!" Jake declared, holding up the letter.

“You did it?!”

"Yeh. I mean, I know it's only a fortnight til I'm eighteen anyway but I don't care! It's done!"

“Yes!!” Peter fist bumped his brother, “You should go and tell mum! She’ll be made up!”

"Yeh where is she?"

“Upstairs.”

Jake charged up the stairs, nearly flattening his mum as she appeared at the top.

"Woah! Where's the fire?" She gasped.

He jumped up and down with the letter in his hands. “It’s done! We did it!”

"What?" Realisation flooded her face. "You mean..?"

“Yes! Yes!” He wrapped his arms around her, “We did it! We did it mum!!”

"Oh sweetheart, that's wonderful." She couldn't help the tears that began to stream down her cheeks.

Feeling a tear roll onto his shoulder, he frowned. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

"I'm just... I can't believe it's all over."

“All over mum. You won.”

"It was never about winning, it was about doing the best thing for you." She stroked his cheek.

He met his mum’s eye and nodded, “The best thing for us, as a family.”

"I love you Jake." She smiled.

“I love you too, mum.” He kissed her cheek.

"I didn't realise you were home Jake." Charlie smiled as he arrived in the upstairs hallway after coming down from the younger boys' bedroom.

“We’ve done it, dad!” Jake held up the letter.

Charlie attempted to study the letter but it was pointless without his reading glasses on.

“Andrew’s no longer part of our lives!”

"The court granted your request?"

Jake nodded, “Yes! We’ve done it!”

"I'm so pleased for you." Charlie smiled, squeezing the teenager's shoulder.

Jake threw his arms around Charlie, “Love you dad.”

"I love you too son." Charlie reached out to pull Duffy into the hug. "Its turning into quite the month for celebrations." He smiled.

[imagitory]

D-Views: Mary Poppins

Hello, everyone, and welcome to another installment of D-Views, my on-going written review series where I dive into and analyze movies from Disney’s extensive film library, and even occasionally those influenced by that library. For other reviews in the series for movies such as Frozen, Enchanted, The Little Mermaid, and Lacewood Productions’ The Nutcracker Prince, feel free to consult the “Disney Reviews” tag! And as always, if you enjoy any of my reviews, please consider liking and reblogging them!

Today, thanks to the votes cast by @karalora, @banana-9-pancakes, and @aceyanaheim, we’ll be looking at the story of a magical woman -- one who is prim, proper, and practically perfect in every way...Mary Poppins!

Production-wise Mary Poppins is in some ways the culmination of everything Walt Disney learned in his thirty-year-long film-making career. It adapted a classic, whimsical story as an charming, emotion-heavy screenplay, like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs -- it featured a fresh-faced, but extremely talented young singer in the title role, like Sleeping Beauty -- it seamlessly combined animation with live action, like Song of the South -- it had state-of-the-art special effects, like 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea -- and it featured music by two songwriters who later went on to write Disney film scores for decades. But all of that started with a tiny, little spark. As a little girl, Walt’s daughter Diane had started reading the Mary Poppins books, and when Walt read along with her, he was absolutely enchanted by them and knew he wanted to adapt the stories for the silver screen. All the way back in 1938, one year after the release of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Uncle Walt had his first meeting with Mary Poppins’s creator, P.L. Travers, but as anyone who has seen Saving Mr. Banks knows, the two did not see eye to eye. Uncle Walt spent the next twenty years trying to convince Travers to give him the rights to her stories, but unlike in the film where they had a sincere meeting of the minds, Travers recalled their final meeting where she gave him the rights as being more like Walt “holding up a gold pocket watch and dangling it tantalizingly in front of [her] eyes.” Admittedly one factor in the situation was that Travers herself had been having some financial trouble, and Uncle Walt’s payment for the rights to her books, as well as a portion of the gross profits for a film adaptation, was a boost that Travers severely needed. Despite the rights being given to Disney, however, Travers retained script approval rights, and for the next few years of production, she had quite a few complaints about the product. Even at the premiere of the film -- which, incredibly, she had not originally been invited to until she shamed a Disney executive into action -- Travers was very vocal about how much she disliked the film. The animation, done by some of the best in the business? Had to go. The story, which created such memorable and likable characters? Lacked teeth. The score written by the young Sherman brothers, who later went on to win awards for both Poppins and their other works? Left her cold.

Now, here’s the thing...do I agree with Ms. Travers? No. Do I like her as a person? No -- one would be hard-pressed to really admire a woman who decided to adopt half of a pair of twins from a poor family, raise the boy thinking he was her biological son, and then try to prevent her son from seeing his twin when the twin came to see him. (Yes, she really did that.) Do I think she was a malcontent who probably wouldn’t have been satisfied with anything? Absolutely. But at the same time, I must acknowledge, as a writer myself, it can be very difficult to share your creations with others. It can be hard even letting others read your works, given how personal and emotionally resonant the things you create often end up being, but it’s even harder letting others add onto your work. In a way, it’s like giving your child to a babysitter, except that unlike babysitters, most filmmakers who aim to adapt books don’t have a great track record in respecting the author or their vision. And in regards to Walt Disney specifically, his studio has never exactly been very interested in “staying true to the original story” -- the Walt Disney Company adapts the heck out of anything it touches. Even more modern Disney projects based on books like Ella Enchanted and Tuck Everlasting are great examples of this (if you’d like to delve into those films as adaptations, please look up Dominic Smith/The Dom’s wonderful Lost in Adaptation episodes for them -- they’re both fabulous!!). And in a way, Travers never saw her magical nanny as something light and cheerful -- this was an immortal woman who in later books once took the Banks children up into the Heavens on Midsummer’s Eve. Like the famous 1939 film adaptation of L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, there was definitely some dry wit and edge lost in translation from book to screen...and just like with The Wizard of Oz, Mary Poppins the film has largely taken the place of the original novels in the public consciousness.

But you know something? For what it’s worth...I think that, just like The Wizard of Oz, Mary Poppins succeeds in being a well-written, well-directed, well-performed, classic film, even if it’s so different than the book it was inspired by. And honestly, the world seems to agree. Mary Poppins grossed over $28.5 million at the box office, making it the most profitable film of 1965, and completely won over both critics and audiences alike. Even now at Rotten Tomatoes, it still boasts a rare 100% Fresh rating. It was nominated for 13 Academy Awards and won five (including Best Picture, which made it the first and only film Walt ever produced to win that honor) and also earned both a Golden Globe and two Grammys. Not only that, but the profits for the film were so high that they helped Uncle Walt fund his “Florida project,” which would eventually become Walt Disney World Resort. Mary Poppins later went on to inspire both a Broadway musical and a sequel, Mary Poppins Returns, and even today you can still meet both Mary Poppins and Bert in the Disney theme parks. So yes, “I recognize Ms. Travers had her opinion, but given that it is a stupid-ass opinion, I’ve elected to ignore it.”

PFFT, I’M KIDDING, ONLY KIDDING. Let’s talk about Mary Poppins.

Perhaps it’s appropriate that from the very beginning, the overture embraces us with the melody that will become the story’s main theme, Feed the Birds. The overture, like all the best Sherman brother overtures for films like Bedknobs and Broomsticks and The Sword in the Stone, is just a smooth, glamorous kaleidoscope of music. I also have to applaud the special effects team right off the bat with their overlaying of Julie Andrews as Mary onto the mat painting of London underneath our opening credits -- even now, when one can more easily guess how the trick worked, it’s still rather neatly done.

In this opening sequence, we also meet Bert, played by Dick van Dyke. The character of Bert was actually a compilation of several figures from the books, but that results in a very interesting, almost transient sort of character. This cheery, optimistic Jack of All Trades may have an accent that wouldn’t convince anyone, but is nonetheless unbelievably charming, and van Dyke’s physical comedy is so ridiculously on point. My mum and I have had a soft spot for Dick van Dyke for a long time because my late grandfather, although he was quite a bit older, resembled him quite a bit not just in appearance but also in attitude. Even now I look at Bert and fondly remember going to see the Broadway production of Mary Poppins with my grandparents, who ended up loving it and its music just as much as I did. It all the more makes me lament the end of the Soundsational Parade at Disneyland, which always concluded with a Mary-Poppins-inspired float covered in chimney sweeps and merry-go-round horses, one of which was ridden by Bert.

One of the changes that Ms. Travers was most disdainful of was the idea that the Banks family -- especially Mr. Banks -- had flaws that needed to be addressed and fixed by Mary Poppins. The flaw in the parents’ case is that they’re so focused on their own work and goals that they neglect their children’s emotional needs -- a plot point that would eventually get beaten into the ground in films that came later, but is not done half bad here. After all, the film doesn’t try to frame Mr. Banks’s job or Mrs. Banks’s activism as unimportant or bad in any way -- it’s just that the parents are solely focusing on those things. Mrs. Banks’s activism in particular, which is something that doesn’t appear either in the books or in the Broadway production, is something I really like. Sister Suffragette, which actually helped bring Glynis Johns on board to play Mrs. Banks, is just such a ridiculously fun song to sing. Although I wouldn’t ever say it’s the best song in the film by a mile, it’s still insanely catchy and entertaining, and I sing along to it every single time. WOMANKIND, ARISE!

David Tomlinson, who plays Mr. Banks, is easily the weakest link singing-wise, but fortunately he gives an acting performance that more than compensates for his poor vocals. From the very beginning, he comes across as incredibly pompous, self-centered, detached, and sexist, and yet he’s never shown to be an inherently bad person. He can be very cheerful, and even the way he’s framed makes it clear that a lot of his bluster is a front for his actual feelings, such as the way he falters when he realizes that Katie Nana has left the family. In the wrong hands, this role could’ve been despicable and shallow, but Tomlison handles it carefully enough that one can always see the emotion and suppressed softness in his eyes even long before he has his change of heart.

After an excellently paced entrance that involves effortlessly blowing away the line of nannies outside 17 Cherry Tree Lane, we are finally fully introduced to the magical lady herself, Mary Poppins. It is unbelievable when you remember that this was Julie Andrews’s first film role ever -- she’d previously only been a stage actress, but after finding success in both My Fair Lady and Camelot on stage and being denied the role of Eliza Doolittle in the film adaptation of My Fair Lady (which was later given to Audrey Hepburn), Julie accepted the role of Mary Poppins. Interestingly Julie was the only actor in the movie that P.L. Travers actually expressed some approval for, and honestly, I don’t blame her -- Julie is just flawlessly cast here. The role combines all of her performing strengths -- a great singing voice, expert dancing, inherent charm, sophistication, intelligence, pride, grace, and a touch of sass -- together in a cohesive, memorable character. Mary’s first song, A Spoonful of Sugar, really showcases Julie in her prime, spotlighting her flawless falsetto and precise pitch (as well as her impeccable whistling), and beautifully accompanies some of the at-the-time-revolutionary special effects. Although yes, it’s easy in the modern day to see how the effects were done, they’re never out-of-place or distracting, which is a testament to how much better practical effects can sometimes age in comparison to computer-generated effects. The things that tend to stick out most to my eyes are the green-screened stuff, simply because of how much that particular technique has been used in film and television since Mary Poppins’s release, but the nice thing is that it’s only one of many effects used, which helps in distracting the eye away from getting too used to one effect. Sometimes the effect will be stop-motion; sometimes the effect will be reversing the film; sometimes it’ll be green screen; sometimes it’ll be combining separate shots together. It makes it so that you would have to watch every scene several times and very carefully in order to pick out specific techniques, rather than just being able to go, “That’s fake, that’s fake, aaaaand...that’s fake,” the way you can while watching movies using only CGI.

Speaking of special effects, we have to talk about the sequence that made P.L. Travers the most upset -- the Jolly Holiday segment, set in an animated, living chalk drawing. Not only is the song just excellent, but the colors and energy of the piece are...well, practically perfect! It only serves to plus a song that was already pretty great and turns it into something amazing. Something else I like about Mary and Bert that I actually have to thank P. L. Travers herself for is that they are not romantically involved. Ms. Travers specifically indicated that that should be the case, and for a film made in the 60′s when male and female characters were almost always neatly paired off, it’s really neat that the two characters, despite some faintly teasing, flirty affects, never act like a couple. And really, having had both male and female friends since I was a kid, I really enjoyed seeing an attractive leading woman and man as friends. On the note of Mary, Bert, and songs I love singing along to, I would be very, very amiss if I didn’t also bring up Supercalifragalisticexpeliadocious. It’s really a very short number, but packed into it is so much energy that it feels like it never takes a breath. It’s like a sugar buzz, written into song form -- exuberant and big and loud and energetic...at least until the inevitable decrescendo as the rain wears away Bert’s chalk drawing and Mary, Bert, and the Banks children sadly return to the real world.

Our next adventure with Mary takes us to dear old Uncle Albert’s, where the aforementioned uncle, played by Mad-Hatter-voice-actor Ed Wynn, is rolling in the air laughing. This scene in particular showcases the various practical effects used in the film, whether hanging the actors on wires, putting them on one side of a seesaw, or even flipping the entire set on its side or upside down. Admittedly it’s very obvious that Katie Dotrice and Matthew Garber, who play Jane and Michael Banks, are having a harder time laughing convincingly than Dick van Dyke and Ed Wynn, which honestly is unsurprising given how many times they had to film this particular scene so as to get different shots. One story from the set of this film centers around Matthew Garber, after getting tired of recording the scene, receiving a nickle every time he had to go back onto the wires and in the end earning an “absolute fortune.” For child actors, Katie and Matthew aren’t awful, but it’s fortunate that they’re almost never the sole focus of a scene, as the more talented adult actors understandably overshadow them. And before you try to tell me it’s unfair to hold child actors to the same standards as adult actors, I grant that that’s true, but child actors can still give good performances that make them stand out as individuals...take Georgie Henley in The Chronicles of Narnia or Kirsten Dunst in Interview with a Vampire, for example. And as much as I’ll give Katie Dotrice and Matthew Garber credit for their performances, neither of them quite stands out that way. It’s admittedly a little harder for me to be that critical of Matthew’s performance, though, given that ten years after he retired from acting, he sadly passed away of pancreatitis at the age of 21. It’s very fortunate that thanks to his performance in Mary Poppins, Matthew will be remembered fondly for generations to come.

Walt Disney’s favorite song is frequently cited as Feed the Birds, and honestly, it’s little wonder why. As I touched on earlier, the song sort of sums up what the film Mary Poppins is trying to say -- that the smallest, seemingly insignificant gestures can mean so much. And isn’t that so integral to Disney, or even movies and entertainment in general? We all know of a character in a movie or TV show -- a line in a book -- a song someone wrote -- a simple smile from a stranger -- that somehow brightened up our whole world, that inspired us in ways we could never have imagined. And all of that comes back to sincere, gentle feelings, and how we can share those feelings with others. Mary Poppins, in short, is about compassion...and isn’t it little wonder why such a message resonated with so many people?

After an absolutely disastrous visit to the bank, the Banks children run out into the streets of London alone, where they’re fortunately found and walked home by Bert. Accompanying the jaunt back to Cherry Tree Lane is the Academy-Award-winning song Chim Chim Cheree, which is definitely catchy and, if I may say so, very fun to whistle. I admittedly am a little sour with Mrs. Banks that she doesn’t get a bit of a reality check when she ends up choosing to leave Michael and Jane alone with someone who’s effectively a stranger to her to go help her suffragette friends. It’s just fortunate that the “stranger” ends up being Bert and that Mary Poppins ends up coming back despite it being her day off, as otherwise Mrs. Banks’s negligent parenting could’ve had serious consequences. But the leap in logic does end up leading us into one of the best parts of the movie -- Step in Time!

Step in time, step in time, come on, matey, step in time! Hahaha, yes, this sequence easily has some of the best dancing ever recorded on film, right up there with the choreography in West Side Story and Singin’ in the Rain. It’s especially remarkable when you know that prior to Mary Poppins, Dick van Dyke had had no formal dance training, and yet he keeps up seemingly with ease with dozens of professional dancers. It blows me away every time. And despite the unending repetition of the song, it miraculously never becomes annoying due to the variety of the dance breaks and the high level of energy with which it’s performed. And really, despite the insane length of the song (it running over eight minutes all together), it amazingly never feels like padding. Perhaps it’s because the talent on screen is just so on display and integrated so perfectly with the building orchestrations and well-chosen special effects that it only serves to plus the musical action more and more and more until it finally culminates in the chimney sweeps escaping down the Banks family’s chimney and dancing off into the street.

As fun as everything has been with Mary Poppins and the chimney sweeps, however, Mr. Banks is now in danger of losing his job at the bank, and Tomlinson’s talent is made very evident once again in how, even after seeing all of his character’s mistakes and faults, we still feel very sorry for both him and for his family. Mr. Banks at first feels the impulse to blame Mary Poppins for his change in circumstances, but thanks to some pointed guidance from Bert and some compassion from his children, he comes to see the cracks in the foundation of his world view. And this goes back to the entire family needing help -- Mr. Banks is a very, very flawed man, but at the same time, as Bert brought up to Jane and Michael, he feels he has to handle absolutely everything on his own, and it’s largely thanks to the support of his children that he’s able to face the threat of losing his job with his head held high. Something I love a lot about the part where Mr. Banks makes his way to the bank alone is the Feed the Birds instrumental that accompanies his walk and that comes to a head when Mr. Banks reaches St. Paul’s, only to see the bird woman no longer there. Whether you choose to read it as the bird woman simply having left or having died or whatever else, it’s clear that every opportunity for charity and kindness we are offered is fleeting. Compassion is and will never be a passive thing.

Fortunately everything turns out for the best. Mr. Banks makes up with his children and he, Michael, Jane, and Mrs. Banks go fly a brand new kite in the park, alongside the film’s final song Let’s Go Fly a Kite. Mr. Banks even ends up getting his job back thanks to a joke that he told Dawes, Sr. the night we sacked. Even despite the cheer, however, it doesn’t feel completely saccharine and lacking of substance to me because Mary Poppins does still leave in the end. She doesn’t achieve the same kind of happy ending that she gave the Banks family -- instead she simply takes off into the air, presumably to give some other family help, with a faintly sad smile on her face. It’s remarkably mature of an ending for something that P.L. Travers thought was “all fantasy and no magic.”

Mary Poppins is not that much like the Mary Poppins books originally written by P. L. Travers. Perhaps at some points it sanitizes or misses out on what inspired Ms. Travers to write the books in the first place...but for all that is lost, I’m confident in saying that a lot was also found. There is a lot of heart in this movie, from a family growing and improving through the intervention of a wise, magical woman to finding deeper meaning in the seemingly insignificant things in our everyday lives. This movie is ridiculously fun to watch, but it’s not like the book Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, where there was never supposed to be a point and it was just there to entertain children. There are lessons one can learn here, and they’re not heavy-handed or pretentious in their delivery. One can learn the value of a sunny disposition, resilience, and empathy in less than stellar circumstances and see how a family full of love is the wealthiest and luckiest of all. And the best part? Those are lessons that both children and adults could stand to learn and re-learn through watching this movie for many, many years to come. Mary Poppins is an immortal figure, and even if this film was made by human hands and so couldn’t possible recreate P. L. Travers’s vision of her, the film is just as eternally relevant itself.

[goddamnit-minyard]

Guys.

I really don't think i'll ever be able to Stress Enough how much people should read the In the Company of Shadows series, specially the AFTG fans.

Why? Well, if you really miss the glorious but painful days of reading the AFTG series and going through the journey of Andrew and Neil learning to live their lives and realizing that there's more to it than just surviving; if you miss the brilliant, raw, and unique build-up that those boys had, both in their own lives and in their capacity to care and just love someone else and believe in them; and overall the jaw-dropping emotional rollercoaster that those books were, well, let me tell you,

In the Company of Shadows is all that, but in steroids.

Honestly, there's nothing that will ever compare to what i felt while reading AFTG. And honestly? There shouldn't be. The capability of a book to depict its own originality is a priority to me. But at the same time that reading ICOS is a whole new experience that fills me with whole new questions and answers that blend into actual, invaluable, new life experience, it is also extremely familiar to me.

Just the way Sin has been treated his whole life. How he's judged as nothing more than a weapon with its own twisted, psychotic mind instead of a trigger, just because he always could and chose to use his skills against unstoppable evil. How even though he had millions of reasons to do so, the fact that everyone looked at him like they would spit on him and sentence him to death because there was nothing worth understanding in him, nothing worth saving, made him actually believe he was the Monster, the psychopath, the crazy kid who left his therapist in a vegetative state (it was because she drugged him and sexually harrassed him while asking, during his alleged therapy session, disgusting questions about what his mum used to do to him when he was even younger that then, but who cares?) that everyone sentenced him to be. How he suffers from insomnia from fear of his own twisted and terrifying nightmares, which are actually just memories, and fears even more the thought of his only loved one ever trying to wake him up because when people wake him up, bad things happen. Or just snapping one day and hurting him because that's what monsters do.

How said loved one, Boyd, the thin, delicate-looking, blonde and long haired boy, was the first person to not flinch the slightest at the knowledge of it all. How Boyd and only Boyd stood fearless in front of Sin's worst bursts of violence because he knew Sin would never hurt him, rightfully so, as he was the only one who dared to see below the surface, actually believing there was gold behind it instead of corrossive madness.

How these books' substance, the way they make you question the line between moral and immoral, how they make you believe in people and make you care so incredibly much about the wellbeing of those misunderstood around the world, and hope that they find their own Boyd if that's what it takes for them to realize how much they actually deserve it.

How they make you appreciate the word Junkie in a way no one would ever understand because in these books, Boyd was called Junkie because he found something worth living for so much that he couldn't get away from it: the feeling of control over something, of responsibility, of having the power to decide whether it all went to shit or succeeded because of him; because that's a thing to get high on for someone who used to do little more than surviving the day like Boyd did.

How all of this resonates with the most amazing series i've ever read (and i know it does for you too) while being completely different at the same time, is what blows my mind. And i can fucking swear to you: it will blow your mind too. It will bring back all those feelings you had for All For The Game in the craziest, most emotionally impactful way possible.

And if you haven't read the AFTG series, well, it will blow your mind anyway.

Oh and please tell me if you will check out these books because of me cause that would make my whole week thanks