#When someone comes at you under false pretences of the characters not knowing each other

[sonofshin]

If you were to return, would you still be Yun? Cause last that I checked you had given him away to someone else and literally said you didn't want anything to do with him anymore. I thought you actually hated your own muse and all that was regarding him to simply throw him away like that.

And if that's the case, do you think returning to tumblr / this fandom would actually be healthy for you after all that happened, in the long run?

Do you WANT me to come back? Do you want me to come back with Yun?

I did give him away. Ahri mun is taking good care of him.

I don't want anything to do with him anymore. This is, by the way, not an uncommon phenomenon after a fight. Someone I consider one of my best friends disliked their character for months after a fight between us, even after we made up.

Due to the conversation between me and Egg, I did end up hating Yun. I hate the character I put 5 years of hard work into.

And how can I not? I was approached with the idea that Yunnie and Robin shouldn't know each other anymore to help settle discourse. I found out that Yun, in his jealousy and anger over basically being called a pet, made her feel uncomfortable as a creator. Obviously that does not feel good to hear at all since it came out of left field for me. The characters had been interacting in very organic ways up until that point. I had given openings for Robin to explain the dragon pet comment, but since he didn't, Yun continued to be angry and bitter, which Yun even explained. To me, it had just been some character development. To her, it had been a personal attack on the character coming from me, the mun, instead of the character. (I found that out a little later) That feels incredibly shitty. That feels like I can't write my character right. That feels like the character I wrote is a fraud. A failure. Apparently, I wrote Yun so badly that the line between me and him blurred. That does not make me want to keep him. That makes it all feel very dirty.

Of course, that's not all that happened. There are SO many reasons I can name as to why I no longer enjoy Yun. But I won't let this drag on.

And no, I will not be coming back to this fandom. I've been in this fandom for about 7 years, probably more. I would call that a really long run already. I've been through big and small dramas and stuck with all of you. Drawn for free. Tried to help in any way I could. And if me giving away my fictional muse can shake so many people's trust in me, then it's probably not the place for me.

If I come back to Tumblr, then it's literally only to interact with friends. For Pete's sake I made Codei's entire blog so I could interact with one person, lmao

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 11 - Friends

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Angst, Fluff

Summary: You convince Gojo to make up with your best friend and memories from the past come up. 

A/N: A wild ex-boyfriend appears! I am finally introducing the character and getting into some backstory. I got some smutty chapters coming up, which I am excited to share because I do love writing sexy Gojo X comments are always appreciated! 

- - - 

( Three Years Ago)

You cleared the plates in front of you as you made your way back to your kitchen. You packed the meal that you had taken the time to meticulously prepare, including the expensive steaks you bought this morning and the vegetables that you hand picked at the farmer’s market. As you opened the fridge to put away the items, you saw the row of vanilla cupcakes placed neatly on a pan, your shaky handwriting spread across each one that read “ Five Years ” with red hearts decorated on the extras. Suddenly, it all seemed silly how you took the time to prepare a surprise anniversary dinner for your boyfriend. You’ve both been together for so long but you still insisted on making every occasion special.

After you tidied up your dining table, you picked up the wine glass you have been nursing for the last hour and made your way over to your bedroom, where you sat on the chair next to your vanity. You removed the earrings that your boyfriend had bought you for your birthday, your favorite pair because they matched beautifully against your skin, and safely tucked them away in your jewelry box. You were disappointed that you made such a big deal out of tonight, feeling like a sentimental fool as you took a sip of your drink. Haru has been so preoccupied with work lately and the pressure of being in a highly competitive field was getting to him. Of course with the way things have been he wouldn’t remember that tonight was your anniversary dinner. You were trying to be mature about it but you couldn’t ignore that you were hurt. You glanced at your phone, reading 10:45 on the clock before finally giving up on the hope that he would show up.

You removed the dress you were wearing, a bold shade of orange that accentuated your body in all the right places - a dress that he bought you while you both went on a summer trip to Okinawa a few years ago. You changed into something a little more comfortable, throwing on a tank top and some loose lounge pants instead.

You heard your phone ping, a message popping up on the screen from Gojo.

Gojo : How did the dinner go?

You sighed to yourself, before plopping down onto your mattress. You tapped away at the keyboard, erasing each message a few times as you were unsure whether you wanted to vent or give him a brief explanation.

You : It didn’t…I think he’s still at work :(

Gojo : That sucks :\ Well, if you have any leftover cupcakes, I will gladly take them off your hands.

You: Nice try, idiot.

Gojo: I didn’t hear you say I couldn’t have any :)

When you didn’t respond to his message, Gojo followed up with another text that read:

Gojo: You okay?

You: I’m fine, I was just looking forward to tonight. I’ll get over myself. Tell me about your night, you can keep me preoccupied from my disappointment lol

Gojo merely responded with some eye emojis, a cheeky indication as to what he has been up to this evening.

You: At least one of us got some action...what’s her name?

Gojo: No idea, I was too distracted by her legs to care.  

You merely rolled your eyes at his comment.

You: It doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?

Gojo: I’m a simple guy, really…

You: …

Gojo: …

You: In WHAT universe?!

Gojo : Pshh, so mean to me all the time :(

You: With reason :)

You smiled when you sent that last text, grateful that Gojo came in at the right time with a distraction. You tried your best not to dwell on the dismal way your evening ended and instead continued to list off the many reasons why the word “simple” and “Gojo Satoru” did not go hand and hand with each other. Your conversation made time fly but that was usually the case whenever you spoke with your friend.

You were so lost in the playfully heated debate you were having, you barely heard the knock coming from your front door.

You abandoned your conversation to see who it was, surprised to find a massive bouquet of flowers greeting you on the other side.

“What…”

Haru peaked from behind the flowers, his sweet smile spreading as he looked at you with sad eyes.

“Happy anniversary!” he chirped, but you could hear the anxiousness in his tone. “ I know I’m late, I know I missed dinner…”

A deep sigh escaped him, as he slightly slumped his shoulders, extending both his hands out to you to pass the bouquet.

“I know this is a meaningless gift in comparison to whatever amazing thing you prepared, I know my efforts don’t even come close to yours, you always put so much care into everything you do. By the time I knew I was late, I was running around the city like a mad man hoping that someone, anyone, would be kind enough to open their shop for me so I would at least not come back empty handed…”

“Haru, take a breath…” you replied, hearing how quickly he was blurting out his words, something he usually did when he was nervous.

You took the bouquet from his hands, admiring the selected assortment of your favorite florals, all picked out by your boyfriend. You traced your fingers along each petal, some a little bruised and you could tell that these flowers were from  the leftovers of the day.

Haru approached you, cupping your face in his hands as he leaned down and planted a kiss on your lips.

“I’m so sorry . None of my excuses justify missing dinner tonight. I swear I am going to make it up to you…”

You tried to calm him down, running your fingers through his light brown hair and taking in every word he said as you remained focused on his hazel eyes. Your heart flutters thinking of him galavanting around the city in his disheveled work suit trying to knock on every florists’ door, a funny anecdote you will surely use against him in the future.  

“How do you plan on making it up to me?” You teased, noticing the way his brow raised at your question.

He pulled you closer into him, planting kisses along your neck before he brushed his lips against your ear to say, “I’m taking the weekend off, how does a nice trip to Hakone sound?”

“ Mmm, ideal… ” you replied, clutching the bouquet of flowers as he hugged you, “but if you keep holding me close, you’re going to ruin this lovely gift you bought me…”

“Then I’ll buy you another, and another, and another ...until I’ve given you enough flowers so that you can plant an entire garden,” he kissed you again, his fingers stroking the back of your neck as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry, baby…” he repeated, his voice wavering slightly from his second apology.

“It’s okay, work comes first. I know you have been busy and probably should have planned our evening with you instead of surprising you. But you’re here now and that's what matters.”

He nodded his head, finally untangling himself from your arms, relieved that you seemed to have forgiven him.

“ I love you so much.”

“ I love you too, Haru .”

You gave him a small smile, tilting your head towards the direction of your kitchen, “It might be too late for dinner but I baked you some cupcakes if you’re up for a little snack…”

Haru removed his blazer, carefully hanging it over his elbow before undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. He held your hand, following your footsteps as you led him into the direction of your kitchen.

“ I can’t wait to try them. ”

( Present)

“ You brought me here under false pretences …” Gojo grumbled, holding himself back as you tugged on his jacket.

It’s been four months since the two of you started hooking up and weeks since he and Rina have even spoken to one another.

After Gojo confessed that she knew about your relationship, you managed to find the time to sit down with your best friend for a heart to heart. The two of you had a ritual which included locking yourselves up in a room with snacks  and drinks until you came to resolve whatever conflict you were dealing with.

“I just don’t understand why you kept this from me,” Rina explained, before taking a sip of the mixed cocktail you both made.

“ You’ve been so overprotective ever since Haru and I broke up…it’s hard for me to talk to you because you start analyzing every little thing I do. Like when I told you I wanted to stop dating for a while, you kept insisting that I was making a mistake because I was running scared…”

“I also know you’re a hopeless romantic, and a few bad dates weren’t fitting this idealised version you have of love…” Rina pressed, “You got lucky with Haru, but diving back into the game takes time and work…”

“I know I was lucky. I know it’s not usual for the first guy you meet to be so… good ,” you replied, that word tasting bitter in your mouth, “But you keep pressuring me into something I am not ready for…”

“That’s not true!”

“Rina, you would take me out on “surprise” double dates when the two of us were just supposed to just be hanging out together. Whenever I talk about Haru, you shut down and change the subject immediately. I can’t even have a night out together without you herding every single eligible male and asking me my opinion…”

Rina sighed, “it sounds way worse when you say it out loud...”

“It’s like you can’t stand that I’m just… a little broken . I let Haru become a part of who I am for five years and losing him feels like I lost a part of me, and I am struggling trying to get that person back. You want me to be okay so badly it’s stopping me from opening up to you…”

Rina inched her way closer as the two of you sat side by side. A sigh escaped her before she spoke, “I’m not good at this…I’m sorry for making you feel that way. I just can’t stand seeing you so hurt. I know that he took a piece of your happiness and I am so angry that he did. I hate that he betrayed your trust, but more so that you haven’t been able to be yourself without him…”

She squeezed your shoulder before giving you a gentle reminder, “but he never defined you. You’re attaching yourself to the love you had for him. And you will find somebody else, somebody better …”

“Maybe but I can’t see myself falling in love again…at least not anytime soon…”

Rina rested her head on your elbow, “I don’t want you to ever think you can’t speak to me…we’ve lasted way longer than all the exes that have walked in and out of our lives…”

You were happy to mend this small fracture, one of the many that has tried to hinder your friendship.

You eventually explained your little arrangement with Gojo, watching Rina’s reaction closely and trying to pull the truth of what she  exactly  said to him.

“I may have thought you were dating, like seriously dating, and told him he wasn’t good enough for you. I am glad to know that you are not. We don’t need to trade one man whore for another…”

You laughed, “Gojo has always made it clear that he has no desire to commit to anyone. I’m not worried. Besides, we can stop our arrangement anytime we are over it.”

“Sooo, when might that be?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “right now, I’m having fun and I think he is too…”

Rina hummed, you could tell she was thinking about something but whatever ran through her mind in that moment she chose to keep to herself.

Even though you and Rina smoothed things over, you realised that neither she or Gojo tried to make an effort to speak to one another. He was avoiding her at all costs while she chose to ignore  the subject entirely. You still had no idea what was said that set those two off but you were over this cold game they were playing.

“Between your inability to handle any confrontation and her stubborn attitude, you two are going to drag this on for way longer than it needs to be…” you lectured.

You paused when you arrived at her store, staring up at Gojo with pleading eyes. “I don’t like being the reason why you two aren’t speaking… please just talk to her…”

Gojo whined, “throw it on my conscience instead, that way you have no reason to feel guilty…”

You furrowed your brows before letting go of him, but a thought passed your mind which gave you an idea, “Remember that thing you brought up the other night? Your little roleplaying idea…”

Gojo arched his brows from underneath his blindfold, surprised that you were even bringing this up. “ Yes… ”

You smirked, stepping closer to him without actually touching him at all. “If you do this for me then I'll happily return the favor…”

His eyes widened, his heart racing slightly as a wave of excitement rushed through him.

You could see he was contemplating your offer, finally scoffing in defeat. “You know saying no to you was a lot easier when you weren’t bribing me with sex…” he grumbled, as he begrudgingly walked passed you.

“You did tell me once that you were a man of simple taste…”

“And I vividly remember you disagreeing with me.”

“Thank you!” You called out watching him reach the handle of the entrance door.

“Just know I am expecting you to hold up your end of the deal,” he replied before making his way inside.

***

Gojo sat at the counter, the awkward silence hung heavy in the air as Rina waited for him to break the tension. When that didn’t happen, she sighed to herself before storming to the backroom of her shop.

Gojo waited for her return, his eyes widening when she finally reappeared with something in her hands.

“ I’m sorry for how I spoke to you,” she said, bowing in his direction and handing him some treats.

“Aww, Rina-chan, how did you know kikufuku was my favorite?” Gojo questioned, his tone softening his sweet words as he held the packet between his fingers.

“I heard it through the grapevine…”

Gojo couldn’t hide his pleasured grin.

You were always so considerate of everyone, going above and beyond to make them happy and paying close attention to the things they liked the most. You must have already spoken to Rina before he came here, playing the role of matchmaker between friends.

Rina definitely noticed his response.

“Thank you,” he replied as he opened up the packet, “I know your anger was coming from a protective place. I don’t fault you for it. Besides, you and I can happily agree on one thing…”

“What’s that?”

Gojo smirked, “she’s too good for me…”

Rina swallowed hard, mainly because of how sincere that statement actually sounded.

“I care about her…”

Gojo hummed to himself, taking a bite of the sweet snack. “And you think I don’t?”

“Can I be honest?”

“ Please. ”

“I am not questioning your care for her, I am questioning what your intentions are. I won’t apologize for not trusting you.  You promised me after she broke up with Haru that you wouldn’t make a move on her but here we are now…”

“I kept my promise.”

“You found a loophole…”

“It’s been three years…she’s allowed to move on.”

“Yes she is…”

“You know, I was surprised by how angry you got at her for keeping us a secret, especially since we both know that there are plenty of things you’re hiding from her right now. Then I started thinking that it wasn’t the secret that was bothering you, you just don’t want her moving on with me…”

Rina averted her gaze, completely surprised by how easily Gojo read her.

“Like I said, I don’t trust you…”

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the counter, “What did Haru tell you exactly?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I just want to know if you’re still adamant on convincing yourself that I am the bad guy or if you would like to know what actually happened between us…”

*** 

CHAPTER 12 - MUSE

[flowercrown-bard]

I Scream a Truth, You Hear a Lie - bonus chapter

for @ban-aard  <3

read on AO3

previous

this takes place way before any of that fake-marriage nonsense. This is the real moment Geralt realised he was in love. So it can be read as a stand alone one shot

content warning: mention of animal death (falsely assumed by a character. No actual death)

“And who’s this lovely lady?“

Geralt rolled his eyes. “That‘s Roach.”

Jaskier snorted and put his hands on his hips. “Listen Geralt, I know that it’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, but I am fairly certain that I remember Roach being a lovely shade of brown and not grey.” Jaskier let a moment pass before he gasped, clutching his chest in that overly dramatic way of his. “Geralt! Are you cheating on her?”

“I lost my old Roach.”

Immediately, Jaskier’s playful demeanour dropped and his grin was replaced by a furrow of his brow.

“Oh,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically small. “Geralt, I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have made fun of it if I’d have known. I know you loved her.” He took a step closer in the way one would approach a wounded animal. “Are you alright?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Jaskier reached out to touch Geralt’s arm, just for a heartbeat, just long enough to make it clear that he was offering comfort, before pulling away again. It was strange, but after being apart from Jaskier for so long, it felt…nice. Geralt almost found himself wanting more of that touch. Which was a ridiculous thought, of course.

Before he could do something stupid and catch Jaskier’s hand mid-air, Geralt grunted and turned away, but something about the crestfallen expression on Jaskier’s face made him stop.

“She didn’t… she’s not dead, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Geralt said awkwardly. There was something uncomfortable of having Jaskier’s eyes so intently on him. It made his heart beat harder against his ribs. Geralt found himself wanting more of it, but he turned away harshly, leading Roach over to a tree he could fasten her reins onto. It bought him enough time to get his heart back under control enough to go back to Jaskier.

“She’s not?” Jaskier’s eyes lit up as if he had just been announced winner of a bardic tournament. No, that wasn’t right. Geralt had seen him at such an event once and the look Jaskier had on his face now was so much brighter than it had been back then. It did something to Geralt’s chest that he couldn’t quite name, didn’t want to name. “But you said you lost her?”

Jaskier said it so tentatively, sounding almost as if he was truly concerned for Geralt or his horse.

Geralt huffed, rolling his eyes. “I lost her at Gwent.”

For a long moment Jaskier just stared at him, before he narrowed his eyes. “You’re shitting me. Geralt, you can’t joke about Roach like that.”

“It’s not a joke.”

“Come on. I watched you play and listened to you get all excited about all the strategies and tricks of playing Gwent for years and in all that time not once have I seen you lose a game.”

Geralt shifted and crossed his arms. He didn’t need to justify himself to Jaskier and there was no need for his stomach to twist in that way when Jaskier mentioned listening to Geralt. After all, it wasn’t as if Jaskier had ever complained about Geralt talking about Gwent. In fact, he had always seemed rather interested in what Geralt had to say and he had only ever seemed disappointed when Geralt realised that he was getting carried away and shut himself up.

Jaskier cocked his head. “Alright then. Who was this mysterious Gwent champion who defeated you?”

“Why do you need to know?” Geralt said, sounding perhaps a little more self-conscious than he wanted. He quickly tried to cover it up by adding more playfully, “About to write a sing about how I lost a game?”

“No,” Jaskier said, his face set in determination. “I am going to challenge that person to another round of Gwent and win Roach back for you.”

Something in Geralt’s chest stuttered and his mind was unable to form words. He could only stare at Jaskier.

“You really mean that, don’t you.”

“Of course,” Jaskier said without hesitation. “Roach is your friend. So, who is it? Who has Roach?”

It didn’t make sense. There was no reason for Jaskier to get so worked up over Geralt’s horse. The bard had never even gotten along with her, always complaining about her almost nipping his fingers or chewing on his expensive doublets. But thinking about it…despite all of his complains Jaskier had never stopped approaching her and trying to win her over with treats, silly songs about her beauty and the promise of scritches.

“Roach is with a farmer,” Geralt said slowly. “A retired one whose old fields are now over run with wild flowers and all that.” There really was no need to add that, but seeing a smile spreading across Jaskier’s lips and getting wider with each word made it impossible to stop himself. “The farmer’s son played me for Roach, saying his mother needed her to get to the market every once in a while. And that she could need a companion.”

A strange look passed over Jaskier’s face. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable and yet it made Geralt want to look away. Or to keep looking until he understood.

“So…” Jaskier drew out the word, his eyes searching Geralt’s face. “Roach is on some old farm somewhere happily munching on some flowers and keeping an old lady company?”

Geralt hummed.

“Well then. Maybe…maybe I won’t challenge anyone to a game of Gwent anytime soon then.” Jaskier gave him a lopsided grin. “After all, how could I defeat someone even you lost to? Which I am sure didn’t happen because you were wilfully holding back.”

“Of course not,” Geralt growled, his weak pretence of being annoyed fooling no one, even if he weren’t already betrayed by the smile tugging at his lips.

“However, if you were willing, I would play a round of Gwent with you?” Jaskier said, fiddling with the hem of his doublet.

Geralt’s eyebrows rose. “Since when do you actually want to play?”

“Since I have something I want out of it.”

“Oh?”

Jaskier raised his chin in a challenge. “If I win you are going to tell me everything you know about your new Roach so that I can already begin to befriend her?”

Geralt’s lips twitched and he pulled out his deck, shuffling it.

“And if I win?”

Jaskier heaved a heavy sigh. “If you win, I promise to grand you some blessed silence and not to sing at all until we reach the next town.”

Geralt smirked at that. He was almost tempted to make the game quick and brutal, just to watch Jaskier’s cocky smirk change into that pout he sometimes got. And a small part of Geralt didn’t want to tell Jaskier about how to bond with Roach.

It hadn’t exactly been a bad experience to watch Jaskier coo over his old Roach and do his best to get her to like him. If Geralt was being honest with himself, those evenings where Jaskier’s face lit up because Roach had let him stroke her mane were ones he had thought of often when he had found himself at Kaer Morhen and strangely enough missing the presence of the bard who had somehow wormed himself into Geralt’s life.

He would love to add more such moments to his memory, of Jaskier trying to gain his new Roach’s favour all on his own. But on the other hand, the way he looked at Geralt so hopefully now made his throat tighten. And for some reason Geralt couldn’t shake the thought that it was important that Roach and Jaskier got along. They had to, if they all were to travel together for the next couple of years.

The thought sent a strange pang through Geralt. The next couple of years.

He risked a glance at Jaskier who rolled his eyes and marched over to Roach, holding his hand out to her and watching with bated breath as the grey mare came closer and nuzzled into the touch.

Geralt couldn’t fight his smile when Jaskier turned back to him, a huge grin on his face. A sudden tightness in Geralt’s chest made it difficult to breath.

He didn’t want to lose that grin in a couple of years. He didn’t want to lose the shared laughs and the songs around the campfires at night. He didn’t want to walk the Path without knowing Jaskier would be there waiting for him at an inn with a worried look and the gentleness of his hands as he stitched him back together.

He wanted to keep all of it. Wanted to keep Jaskier.

How could he not want that, when for years Jaskier had been his best friend, the person whose ridiculous outfits and endless tirades about his bardic competitors made Geralt’s heart skip a beat. When Jaskier was the one Geralt –

Oh.

Geralt’s hands stilled and his heart clenched.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Jaskier who by now was throwing his head back laughing as Roach tried to eat his hair, his eyes twinkling in mirth.

Oh.

How could Geralt not have known before? How could he have ever been stubborn enough not to give a name to that feeling he got every time he saw Jaskier again after a long winter? Every time Jaskier accidentally bumped shoulders with him or gave him a smile when others only scowled at him?

Seeing Jaskier now, it was so easy, so obvious.

Jaskier was an idiot. He was ridiculous and loud and gods, Geralt loved him.

“Hey Geralt,” Jaskier called over, interrupting Geralt’s thoughts, though the shout couldn’t take away the warm feeling flooding Geralt. “Are you done shuffling your cards yet? I’d almost think you want to buy yourself some time until your second defeat.”

Jaskier gave him a wink and poked the tips of his tongue out.

Geralt froze, transfixed.

“I’m ready,” he said, hoping Jaskier didn’t notice how strangled he sounded.

-

Geralt lost the game.

He accepted Jaskier’s gloating and bragging with a roll of his eyes. When they were back on the road and Jaskier was composing a new song about how Geralt had been defeated by a bard, he allowed himself a smile.

How could he not? Geralt’s deliberate loss at a game was not a bad price to pay for seeing his love happy and maybe having him in his life just a little bit longer.

[misscrawfords]

Just got back from watching Emma and...

I LOVED IT.

I had a smile on my face for 95% of the movie and the 5% when I wasn’t smiling was only because it wouldn’t have been appropriate. It was genuinely hilarious, visually stunning, the script is 98% pure Austen, and while I was sceptical going in, Johnny Flynn absolutely is Mr. Knightley.

(here be spoilers)

I can’t think of another adaptation of Austen that is so verbally faithful to the novel without being dull. The 80s adaptations lifted chunks of text from the novels but lacked pace and verve. The 90s kept some and changed some and the 2000s and 2010s have shown a trend for changing the dialogue and modernising it. This adaptation put a big block in this trend and went for pure Austenian dialogue. It was perhaps the most striking thing about the film for me. I was hard for me to judge how well that worked because I’m so familiar with the text but I wonder what someone who didn’t know the book and wasn’t familiar with the language would think of it. One of my friends who hadn’t read Emma before still loved it though.

I was really blown away by Johnny Flynn’s Mr. Knightley. He absolutely captured his blunt gentlemanliness and down-to-earthness and his awareness of and frustration with the staginess surrounding him and his affection for and sometimes despair of Emma. It was a very stagy production - characters and servants moving around each other in perfect choreography like a dance, eyes shooting to one another, lines well-enunciated, but Mr. Knightley always felt natural within that and I think that’s a clever reflection of the book, where everyone is very much playing a part - apart from him. The film nicely captured the pretence of the society and the cracks in the performances when characters were alone and unguarded until it breaks down completely at Box Hill.

One thing I really liked was how when you first see Jane Fairfax, I thought “Eh, she’s not much”, she was just silent and plainly dressed and quite pale, but then later she plays the piano stunningly and suddenly I was like “WOW she’s beautiful and elegant” and I think that is exactly what Jane Fairfax is like.

They really fleshed Harriet out and made her far more 3D and sympathetic than in any other adaptation I’d seen before. You get a real sense of her character at the beginning of the story and how she changes and you really genuinely had investment in her and Robert Martin which was... not something I expected.

Mrs. Elton was perfect.

Miss Bates was perfect.

My boyfriend John Knightley existed and was so done with his life so that was good.

Box Hill was... oh my goodness, I was almost hiding under my seat from second hand embarrassment. Aaargh! Which means it was good.

The ball at the Crown... Everything about that was executed perfectly and probably the best dancing I’ve seen in a period drama since the Netherfield Ball in 1995.

I think Anya Taylor-Joy was... good. I didn’t feel 100% convinced by her in depths of Emma’s character - I think she played her rather superficially, but there were moments of insight and I don’t quarrel with her, though I suspect that most of the work was Austen and the script rather than the actress’ tbh.

So was there anything I didn’t like?

Not precisely, but there were definitely things I’d do differently.

I think there was a strong bias towards the first half of the story and towards Harriet’s story over Frank and Jane’s. I loved what they did with Harriet but I think it came at the expense of Frank and Jane. There was plenty cut and a little rushed there and I wish the full weight of what Frank had done had been conveyed as well as more of Emma’s conflicted feelings towards him. You never really felt that Emma had felt anything for him at all once she had met him so Mrs. Weston and Mr. Knightley being concerned about the news of his engagement came as a bit of a surprise. And the suspicions of Frank and Emma was set up but never really went anywhere. I wanted to see Frank and Emma being cruel more consistently - there was only really one scene of it. And there was nothing of Jane becoming a governess. Anyway, I think some weight was lost there because the events of the second half of the book felt condensed in comparison to the amount of time spent on establishing characters and plots at the beginning. And Callum Turner really didn’t do much for me as Frank - I think Rupert Evans in 2009 was a much better Frank. Though admittedly he didn’t have much to work with.

The nosebleed - I don’t think it worked. Come on, I wanted Emma to give Mr. Knightley an answer. Is this a playful nod to her saying “just what a lady ought”? Perhaps, but it rang false and an inappropriate moment for bathos. I was a bit annoyed at that, the only place in the film.

I’m not sure about Bill Nighy as Mr. Woodhouse. I mean, he’s Bill Nighy so he was hilarious, but was he book!Mr. Woodhouse? Not exactly. He was quite clearly in rude health! But then again, that made his hypochondria and difficulties more glaringly obvious. Though honestly every single adaptation has made Mr. Woodhouse way too old. Even if married late, we’re still suggesting that he had Emma when he was about 50 which seems a little implausible.

I think overall it was a production that valued frivolity and style over substance though it certainly gave some great chemistry between Emma and Mr Knightley and gave us the most interesting and well-developed relationship between Emma and Harriet that I’ve seen in any adaptation. In terms of Austen adaptations I feel that in approach it sits somewhere between Love and Friendship and the BBC Pride and Prejudice - the focus on humour and staginess was right out of Love and Friendship and the type of dialogue, costuming, restrained romance with bursts of period appropriate bedroom scenes reminded me more of the BBC P&P than any other adaptation. Whether these things are a positive or negative for you will depend on how you view those adaptations and what you want from your Austen films. It was 2 hours long and I wish Frank and Jane and that entire plot had been given more development but I think they did pretty well considering it was a feature film. However, despite its flaws, the experience of watching it was just utterly joyous and I really believe it was made with love and respect for its source material and I came out of it on a massive high!

[phantom-le6]

Episode Reviews - Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 2 (5 of 5)

As the month of February is almost finished, we now also finish our look into the second season of Star Trek: The Next Generation by looking at the last three episodes of that season…

Episode 20: The Emissary

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise receives an urgent message from Starfleet Command ordering them to a set of coordinates without stating a reason. While en route, they are contacted by Admiral Gromek who informs them that the Enterprise is to rendezvous with a Federation emissary who will brief them on their mission. She refuses to disclose any details, only that Starfleet considers the mission a "top security matter".

 Data reports that the emissary is being transported in a class 8 probe, an unconventional mode of travel and barely large enough to contain a person, traveling at warp 9. Picard notes the evident urgency of the mission. The Enterprise intercepts the probe and beams it aboard, and its passenger is revealed to be a half-Klingon half-human woman named K'Ehleyr. It is immediately clear that K'Ehleyr and Lt. Worf know each other, and Worf is not pleased to see her.

 K'Ehleyr informs the command staff that Starfleet has detected a Klingon battlecruiser called the T'Ong, which was launched from the Klingon homeworld over 75 years ago, when the Klingons and the Federation were still at war. The crew has been in suspended animation and are about to awaken, at which point it is feared they will immediately attack the nearest Federation outpost. There are several such outposts nearby, none of which would not be able to adequately defend themselves. As the nearest Klingon ship is three days away, the Enterprise is to intercept them instead. Though K'Ehleyr strongly believes that any attempt to reason with the Klingons will fail, and advises that Picard plan to destroy the ship, Picard disagrees and orders the staff to come up with alternatives.

 Picard orders Worf to work with K'Ehleyr over Worf's objections, as Worf concedes his reasons are purely personal. Worf and his ex-love interest have a heated argument, barely managing to concentrate on their task. At Troi's suggestion K'Ehleyr goes to the holodeck to vent her frustrations, where she chooses one of Worf's exercise programs, a hand-to-hand combat simulation. Worf finds her there and joins her in the program, and invigorated and stimulated by the battle, they mate. Following tradition, Worf then starts the Klingon vow of marriage, but K'Ehleyr refuses to take the vow and storms out.

 At a senior staff briefing, K'Ehleyr presents her plan to deal with the T'Ong: If they find the crew still asleep, they keep them that way until a Klingon starship can meet them in three days; if the crew is awake, they will have to destroy them. Picard is still reluctant to accept that a peaceful solution is impossible, but before they can work out an alternative plan, Data reports that they have detected the T'Ong. Data detects life signs, but is unable to determine whether or not the crew is awake. Suddenly, the T'Ong fires on the Enterprise, cloaks, and moves away. The Enterprise is able to track the older vessel even under cloak, so they set off in pursuit.

 K'Ehleyr urges Picard to let the Klingons die with honor, in battle. However, Worf comes up with another option. While Picard and first officer Commander Riker position themselves out of sight, Worf and K'Ehleyr, clad in full traditional Klingon command uniforms, appear as captain and first officer of the Enterprise, informing Captain K'Temoc of the T'Ong that the war is over and ordering them to surrender. K'Temoc initially refuses, believing it to be a Federation trick, but when Worf, in typical Klingon manner, shows his resolve and threatens to destroy the T'Ong, K'Temoc grudgingly agrees.

 K'Ehleyr transports to the T'Ong to begin the process of acclimating the Klingons to life in the 24th century and await the arrival of the Klingon escort that has been sent to meet them. Before departing, she admits to Worf that she was tempted to take the marriage vow with him, but felt it was not the right moment for it, and implies that their paths will cross again. Worf informs her that he was not purely motivated by honour to take the vow and that he will be incomplete without her.

Review:

Of this season’s Klingon episodes, I think this one is better than ‘A Matter of Honor’.  There’s no annoying B-plot, for starters, and not only are we focused on Worf, but we also get him dealing with one of the few women in Trek history that could really work for Worf.  The guest character of K’Ehleyr is uniquely suited to Worf because she’s a biological hybrid of Klingon and human.  This makes her someone who, in her own way, shares Worf’s culture-clash dilemma and has to reconcile being of two different worlds.  She’s also got a personality not a million miles removed from Jadzia Dax, who as DS9 fans know would later become Worf’s wife.

 It’s also interesting to see K’Ehleyr interact with Deanna Troi and compare notes on their experiences of being hybrids of humanity and another species.  Up to now, Troi’s nature as a metaphor for people of mixed heritage hasn’t been utilised much by the series, which is a shame.  However, at this point in Trek there wasn’t much of that kind of plot going on for a lot of the characters that could be taken as metaphorical representatives of certain groups.  It’s a pity, but on the other hand does allow later exploration to better effect elsewhere in this and other Trek shows.  From the perspective of hindsight, this episode also has a very impactful legacy, but more on that when we come to it.  For now, I give this episode 9 out of 10.

Episode 21: Peak Performance

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise is ordered by Starfleet Command to take part in simulated combat exercises to prepare for the Borg threat. A renowned Zakdorn strategist named Sirna Kolrami is sent to serve as observer and mediator of the exercise. Commander Riker challenges Kolrami to a game of Strategema, knowing he has no chance to win, just for the honour of playing a grandmaster. Dr Pulaski pushes Data to challenge the arrogant Kolrami, assuming Kolrami will be no match for Data's android reflexes and computational ability. When the two later play, however, Data is also soundly beaten, causing him to become convinced he is malfunctioning and remove himself from duty.

 The combat exercise pits the Enterprise against an 80-year-old retired Federation ship U.S.S. Hathaway, which is in orbit around a nearby planet. Picard is to command the Enterprise, while Riker is to choose a crew to man the Hathaway. Riker recruits Chief Engineer Geordi La Forge and Lt. Worf as his senior staff and sneaks acting Ensign Wesley Crusher into his crew under the pretence of him ‘observing for educational purposes. Riker and his crew beam over to the old ship and begin their efforts to restore it to working order. The Hathaway is easily outclassed by the Enterprise, and has no antimatter, making warp speed impossible. Wesley, however, returns to the Enterprise under false pretences and surreptitiously beams a school experiment containing a small amount of antimatter to the Hathaway, which would allow them a very short warp burst, though they are uncertain it will work.

 Pulaski and Troi are unable to persuade Data that he is not malfunctioning, but Picard reminds him of his duty, and advises him "It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose. That is not a weakness; that is life." Data's confidence is restored, and he returns to the bridge.

 As the battle begins, Worf accesses the Enterprise's sensors, generating a fake sensor & viewscreen image of a Romulan warship attacking, and while the Enterprise is distracted, the Hathaway scores the first hits. Kolrami, who was initially dismissive of Riker's ability, is impressed. The Enterprise regroups and prepares to attack the Hathaway when sensors report another intruding ship, a Ferengi marauder. Picard realizes too late that this ship is not a sensor trick, and the Ferengi attack leaves the Enterprise's phasers locked in simulation mode and unable to return fire.

 The Ferengi commander, DaiMon Bractor, is unaware of the wargames and suspicious of the behaviour of the two Federation ships, concluding the Hathaway must be valuable, and demands that Picard surrender it to him. Picard and Riker devise a risky plan, where the Enterprise fires photon torpedoes at the Hathaway, with the Hathaway using their short warp burst to jump to safety an instant before the torpedoes detonate. The Ferengi, believing their prize has been destroyed, turn their attention to the Enterprise, but Worf tricks their sensors into detecting another Federation ship approaching, and the Ferengi flee.

 With the wargames over, Data challenges Kolrami to a Strategema rematch. This time, Data is able to hold Kolrami in check; Kolrami grows more and more frustrated as the match progresses, ultimately throwing down his controls in disgust and storming off. Data explains that he altered his strategy, giving up opportunities for advancement in order to maintain a stalemate, which he believes he could have maintained indefinitely. He initially regards the result as a draw, but after prodding from Pulaski, admits his success.

Review:

I quite enjoy this episode because it’s a fun and interesting departure from what you normally expect from both Trek in general and TNG in particular.  The reference back to the issue of the Borg shows some actual continuity in a show that frequently stands out from its spin-offs by being a show where you could watch a lot of episodes out of order and it wouldn’t make much difference. All too often, the adventures of Picard’s Enterprise are self-contained to each episode and don’t always have much subsequent effect, as opposed to Deep Space Nine where the crew doesn’t have the ‘sail off into the sunset option’, or Voyager whose whole series is predicated on the timeline of a long journey home.

 There are some interesting lessons about leadership worked in, such as Picard’s defence of Riker’s command style to Kolrami and how Polaski, Troi and Picard try to deal with Data’s concerns following his initial defeat at Strategema.  Picard’s line about it ‘being possible to commit no mistakes and still lose’ is certainly true, though by the same token it is also possible that if someone loses while making no mistakes of their own, that does not necessarily mean no mistake has been committed anywhere.

 In the context of the game between Kolrami and Data, or any other such head-to-head contest, losing because one person is simply a bit better is all well and good, but applied to other situations, other people come into the equation who can make errors even if you don’t. In my working life, for example, I’ve found that if staff in positions of authority do not create a system of working that eliminates all preventable errors, there is only so much other staff can do to compensate.  Also, how do you define what is a mistake?  To my mind, most of society is based on the faulty premise that all people are the same, resulting in systems required to make corrections for anyone who in reality contradicts that supposition.  Within that premise, such after-thought amendments are correct, but to my mind they are symptomatic of a huge mistake resulting for egocentric arrogance and privilege-based delusion.

 As a whole, this episode is very good and is probably the best point at which to end if you wanted the season ending on a high. However, as there’s still another episode to go, I’ll just give this episode a score of 9 out of 10 and move on to the final episode of this round.

Episode 22: Shades of Gray

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

During a geological survey on Surata IV, Commander Riker is struck by a thorn growing on a motile vine plant. The away team immediately beams back to the Enterprise, where Dr Pulaski finds out that the thorn has released deadly microbes into Riker's body. Within a matter of hours, the microbes will reach Riker's brain, killing him. To try to save Riker's life, Pulaski puts him into a machine that will artificially stimulate his brain neurons, keeping them active and resisting the microbes. This causes Riker to relive memories of his past adventures aboard the Enterprise. Riker's first memories are of reasonably neutral occasions, such as his first meeting with Lieutenant Commander Data. He soon moves on to more passionate and even erotic memories, such as meeting the cheerful young Edo women on Rubicon III, the matriarch Beata on Angel One, or the computer-generated holodeck woman Minuet.

 However, while pleasing to Riker's mind, the passionate memories only worsen Riker's condition, as the microbes feed on the positive endorphins his brain is creating. Pulaski and Counsellor Troi therefore agree to try to make the machine evoke negative memories instead. Thus, Riker relives memories of Lieutenant Tasha Yar's death and the apparent death of Deanna Troi's child. This has the desired effect, as the negative endorphins drive the microbes away, but the endorphins are not strong enough. As a last resort, Pulaski uses the machine to evoke memories of raw, primitive feelings of fear and survival. Riker then remembers being enveloped by the creature Armus, his fight with the alien-controlled Admiral Quinn, and the fight with Klingon officer Klag on board the warship Pagh. Seeing that the raw emotions work best, Pulaski intensifies the dreams to come at a more rapid pace. This finally kills the microbes and Riker recovers.

Review:

Apparently, this episode came about because the series went over-budget on episodes like ‘Elementary, Dear Data’ and ‘Q Who’, and Paramount insisted the show do a quick episode on the cheap to satisfy the commissioned number of episodes within the allotted budget.  The result is a very poor episode that is TNG’s only clip show, and a stupidly premature one to boot.  It’s made even more annoying by Wikipedia’s inaccuracies that I’ve had to correct; Riker is infected by microbes that Polaski notes are ‘neither bacteria nor a virus’, yet a virus is what Wikipedia calls it, and Riker is remembering past events, not dreaming.  If it was a dream he was having, we’d have new footage showing a dream sequence, not clips of past episodes acting like a memory slide-show.  Even Riker claims to have been ‘dreaming’ when he recovers, which doesn’t help.  Remembering and dreaming are two totally separate things, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a total bloody moron.

 Mind you, they have company, because doing one last episode on the cheap of this poor quality was so not the way to go. They could have done a bottle episode without the clips by doing something like a night in Ten-Forward, or a holodeck-goes-wrong episode where the only sets where the holodeck simulation and the corridor outside the holodeck.  How anyone thought a clip show was the way to go when you’re only at the end of a show’s second season, I’ll never know.  A pity Red Dwarf didn’t reach its third season, and the bottle episode ‘Marooned’, until the early 90’s.  Trek could have actually learned a lot about how to do a bottle episode well from just that one bit of British sit-com gold.  As it is, at least this episode now serves as a cautionary tale on how not to do bottle episodes.  I give it 0 out of 10.

[rosewandmoved]

it’s not that i don’t love jacob, because i do, but after thinking about it long and hard i don’t think it’s going to be canon on my blog that queenie goes to see him and pursue a relationship immediately after he chooses not to remember her. 

it just feels weird, you know ??  like a needless angst obstacle that’s going to be taken back instantly in the sequel. we all know he gets his memories back to some extent, or is at least re-introduced to magic by newt for some reason. so why even bother with the first movie ending with him forgetting if it’s not a lasting sacrifice and one of the few character-building moments we get for jacob. 

he did it to keep queenie safe, because he didn’t want to step on the toes of a society that has their own laws. he didn’t want to displace her. while i do think she has spoken to and dated muggles briefly before, i don’t think she’d disrespect his want to put her safety over his happiness and within months go see him again under false pretences. 

the entire thing is just really lazy writing imo and there isn’t any stakes. queenie and jacob also kinda don’t know each other. and while she’s absolutely someone who makes impulsive choices when it comes to love i don’t think she’s that impulsive to disregard his wishes. he did not pick her, fundamentally. he picked her safety which is very different. 

do i think they could work things out ??  god, i fucking hope so. i sure as fuck fucking hope so but i don’t think it’ll be as easy as jkr will make it. 

[thinktosee]

JOURNAL – DAVID AND CAMUS – PART 4 – THE FALL

Titian’s Fall of Man, c1550. Image courtesy Museo del Prado, Spain

This journal is a continuation of Part 3, which may be accessed via this link :

https://thinktosee.tumblr.com/post/613609798512115712/journal-david-and-camus-part-3-the-fall

Journal to David

Dear David my Son,

“I always thought our fellow citizens were crazy about two things : ideas and fornication.” (The Fall, p5)

Albert Camus’ monologue of 1956, titled “The Fall” is arguably the most distilled exploration of his philosophical beliefs about Existentialism. The term, “arguably” is applied here as it’s possible you’d disagree. Yes, “The Stranger” is emotionally, yet intellectually stimulating – fused to mine the soul trapped within the reader, rendering it to explode to the surface, as a dramatic offering of our otherwise dormant passions! (1) “The Myth of Sisyphus”? Well, that’s absurd. It is exasperating and predictable like any ritual, religious or otherwise. Besides why do we have to repeat it again and again? Boring. Say what? That’s Life, ain’t it? In Sisyphus, Camus makes us see the folly of our ways, of our life, with a Dante-que’ twist.(2) It’s no doubt a revealing story, I agree. But let’s get back to The Fall, shall we?  That’s the real enchilada there. That’s the story of the fall of man.

Sisyphus, burden and hope – Image courtesy reasonandmeaning.com

The Fall hints at the Garden of Eden when Google, oops pardon me, I mean Knowledge, made its entrance on the camouflaged stage following the supreme feast of the apple. And as in Sisyphus, that original fall is repeated forevermore everywhere, as if perfection and triumph are within our slimy grasp, each time we laboured. But hey, what do I know? You were the Camus-go-to-guy. You were the Existentialist, David (3). I am just following in your footsteps. Hence, our fall? Our never-ending search for Knowledge.

Camus’ The Fall takes the reader through the colourful musings of Jean-Baptiste Clamence, formerly a successful defence lawyer in snooty Paris, to his new digs in “Mexico City” a bar located in so very depressing Amsterdam. What in heavens caused this fall from grace? A couple of things, just like what happens on any given day to many of us, really, when Truth happens to cross our path, like a black cat :

Our copy of Albert Camus’, The Fall. This excellent edition is translated by Robin Buss, Penguin Press, 2006. 

1. One day in Paree, Jean-Baptiste had an altercation with a motorcyclist. It was clear from a legal perspective, that Jean-Baptiste was quite right. However, an observer didn’t see it that way and rudely chastised him for his behaviour. While being distracted by the observer, the motorcyclist took a swing at our kind lawyer and sped off. The incident infuriated and also embarrassed Jean-Baptiste. Where did these negative and violent urges in him originate, he wondered? Wasn’t he a man for the common people? Were his professional and also personal support for the down-trodden superficial after all? Was all this service, for himself, rather than for them? To create and then foster a false image of oneself? The seed of knowledge took root when he began to ponder on these Socratic questions.

2. In the second example, which is recounted in Part 3, Jean-Baptiste’s utter and pathetic failure to act when the young woman jumped into the river, gave him cause to re-examine his bona fides – his life’s assumptions. What in today’s lingo may be dubbed as his “fake news” life. Our contrived persona, really.

With these in mind, Jean-Baptiste migrated, wandering, and finally ended down under. Sitting on a mound in water-logged Amsterdam, he meets a stranger one day. Being expansive, as lawyers tend to be, and over a series of lectures or monologue, he recounts his fall. These accounts trace his “regression” and amplify what the fall is to Jean-Baptiste, as it possibly was to Adam and Eve, or to any one, including me.

The Fall really is about a Socratic exploration to live a life without any pretence, or camouflage. A life of freedom and not dependency. Or as you admonished me to “Be Yourself!” That is the only constant. Adam and Eve’s fall in the Garden ushers the introduction to Knowledge, and away from a blissful dependency and ignorance. So is Jean-Baptiste Clamence’s. So is mine. 

Image courtesy Sanskritimagazine.com

Let Camus tell us then what he means in a few selected passages :

“ ‘Do you want a clean life, like everyone else?’ Of course you answer yes. How could you not? ‘Fine. We’ll clean you up. Here’s a job, here’s a family, here’s some organized leisure’ And the little teeth bite into the flesh, right down to the bone.” (p6)

“There, give up. Mine is a double job, that’s all, just as humans are double.” (p7)

“I live in the Jewish quarter, or what they called the Jewish quarter until our Hitlerite brethren cleared a space in it. What a clean-up! Seventy-five thousand Jews deported or murdered : that’s vacuum cleaning. I admire such diligence, such methodical patience! You have to be methodical when you have no character. Here, the method worked wonders, there’s no denying it : I live on the site of one of the greatest crimes in history.” (p8)

“There is no denying that, at least for the moment, judges are necessary, don’t you agree? And yet I couldn’t understand how a man could appoint himself to exercise that surprising office. I had to accept it, since I saw it, but rather in the way that I accepted locusts….with the difference that the invasions of those orthoptera have never brought me a penny, while I used to earn a living by conversing with people whom I despised.” (p13)

“…but I would also only take their cases on the sole condition that they were good murderers, as others are noble savages.” (p13)

Fortunately, my profession satisfied this call to the heights.” (p17)

“Conversely, the indignation, talent and emotion that I expended relieved me of any debt towards them. Judges punished the crime, the accused atoned for it, and I, free of all responsibility, beyond judgement or punishment, reigned at liberty, bathed in a prelapsarian glow.” (18)

“I mean, relatives and in-laws (what a word!) – it’s a different tune. They find the right word, but it’s usually the one that wounds. They pick up the phone to you like someone picking up a gun. And their aim is on target.” (p21)

“Perhaps we do not love life enough. Have you observed that only death awakens our feelings?” (p21)

“That’s a charming house, isn’t it? The two heads there belong to negro slaves. A trade sign : the owner was a slave trader. Huh, they didn’t mince their words in those days! They came right out with it and said : ‘I’ve got a house on the street, I deal in slaves,  I sell black flesh!’ Can you imagine anyone nowadays stating publicly that that was his business? What an uproar! I could hear my fellow lawyers in Paris from here. They’re adamant on this matter and wouldn’t hesitate to publish two or three manifestos,……I might even add my signature to theirs. Slavery! Why, no, we’re against it! If we are forced to have it in the home or in factories, fine, that’s the normal run of things, but boasting about it, is going too far.” (p28)

“I’m well aware of the facts that one cannot do without dominating or being served. Every man needs slaves just as he needs fresh air.” (p28)

“Just between ourselves, servitude, preferably with a smile, is unavoidable. But we don’t have to acknowledge that fact. If a man can’t help having slaves, isn’t it better for him to call them free men? As a matter of principle, firstly, then so as not to drive them to despair. Surely we owe them at least that compensation? In this way, they will carry on smiling and we can keep our conscience clean. Otherwise, we might be forced to examine ourselves and become mad with grief….” (p29-30)

“The truth is that every intelligent man, as you know, dreams of being a gangster and ruling over society by violence alone. As this is not as easy as one might think from reading novels in the genre, people generally turn to politics and hurry to support the cruellest party. It matters little, wouldn’t you say, to abuse one’s mind if by that means one succeeds in dominating everyone. I found that there were sweet dreams of oppression within me.” (p35)

“There was no deception involved, or merely that blatant deception that they consider a mark of respect. As people commonly say, I loved women - which amounts to saying that I never loved any one of them. I have always thought misogyny to be both vulgar and stupid, and considered almost all the women I have known to be better than myself. However, while setting them so high, I exploited rather than served them. What does that mean?” (p36)

“Otherwise, there would be a solution and one could at last be taken seriously. Men are not convinced of your arguments, your sincerity or the seriousness of your suffering, except by your death.” (p46)

“If we are to end, doubt, we must stop existing, purely and simply.” (p47)

“The most natural idea for mankind, the one that comes naively, as if from the depths of one’s being, is that of one’s own innocence. In this respect we are all like the little Frenchman in Buchenwald who insisted on trying to lodge an appeal through the clerk, himself a prisoner……The clerk and his friends laughed : ‘Useless old chap. There’s no appeal here.’ ‘But, you see, Monsieur,’ said the little Frenchman, ‘mine is an exceptional case. I’m innocent.’ “ (p50)

“But above all because wealth shields from immediate judgement, lifts you out of the crowd in the underground, shuts you up in a chromium-plated car and isolates you in huge expanses of protected parkland…Wealth,..is not actually acquitted, but a reprieve.” (p51)

“How could sincerity be a condition of friendship? A liking for the truth at all costs is a passion that spared nothing and that nothing can withstand.” (p51)

“Dante allows for neutral angels in the quarrel between God and Satan : and he places them in Limbo, a sort of waiting room for his Hell. My good friend, we’re in the waiting room.” (p52)

“What we call elementary truths are the ones we discover after the rest.” (p52)

“I proclaimed my loyalty, yet I think that there is not a single person that I loved whom I did not also eventually betray. Of course, my betrayals did not get in the way of my fidelity.” (p53)

“I began to advise ‘transference of guilt’ as a tactic for the defence. Not that form of ‘transference of guilt’, I said, which has been perfected in modern inquisitions where a thief and an honest man are tried at the same time that the latter can be made responsible for the crimes of the former. What I meant, on the contrary, was defending the thief by bringing out the crimes of the honest man, in the event, the lawyer.” (p58)

“I had always lived a life of debauchery, since I had never ceased to desire immortality.” (64)

“The purely verbal references to God that I sometimes made in my pleas in court made my clients suspicious. No doubt they were afraid that heaven would be less qualified to look after their interest than an advocate…” (p66)

“I realized that the shout that I heard many years earlier echoing across the Seine behind me had not ceased to travel across the world,….I realized too that it would continue to wait for me…”(p68)

“...we cannot be certain of anyone’s innocence, while we can confidently pronounce everyone guilty. Each man bears witness to the crime of all the others.” (p69)

“Believe me, religions are wrong when they start to moralize and sound off with their commandments. We have no need of God to create guilt or to punish. Our fellow men are enough, with our help.” (p69)

“Don’t wait for the Last Judgement, it takes place every day.” (p70)

“But too many people are now climbing up on the cross just so that they can be seen from further away, even if in doing so they have to trample a little on the one who has already been there for so long.” (72)

“Judges are swarming over the corpse of innocence, judges of every species, those of Christ and Antichrist, who as it happens are the same, all reconciled in little ease” (p73)

“What does it matter, after all? Don’t lies in the end put us on the path to truth?” (p75)

“He announced that we needed a new pope who lives among the poor and needy, instead of praying on his throne…” (p78)

“…you see, the main idea is not to be free any longer, but to repent and obey a greater knave than you are.” (p85)

“The judgement that you are passing on others eventually blows right back in your face and may do some damage.” (p86)

“Since we could not condemn others without at the same time judging oneself, one should heap accusations on one’s own head, in order to have the right to judge others. Since every judge eventually becomes a penitent, one had to take the opposite route and be a professional penitent in order to become a judge.” (p86)

“Throw yourself in the water again so that I might have once more the opportunity to save us both!” (p92)

 If only, we have that opportunity once more, David. 

daddy

Sources/References

1. https://thinktosee.tumblr.com/post/177348082353/david-and-camus-part-1-the-stranger

https://thinktosee.tumblr.com/post/177516436953/david-and-camus-part-2-the-stranger

2. https://www.amazon.com/Myth-Sisyphus-Albert-Camus/dp/0848833481

3. https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/existentialism/

[spacyparker]

Floating Through Darkness

MASTERLIST - PROMPT LIST

Request : “A tom fic with 42. 59, and 75? I think this would be cute but take your time ofc“

»  “The way you flirt is shameful.”

»  “Is it really you?”

»  “Shut up and kiss me.”

Characters : Tom Holland x reader

Word count : 2k

A/N : I first wrote this in my native language before translating it, being obviously more comfortable with french words. I hope there’s a little change and it’s a little bit better than my other writings then. I also wrote this while listening to the new Being as an ocean album, it’s really chill so check it out I love this band. Well, my requests are still open and you can talk to me about anything on anon or not ! THANKS PEOPLE xx

Time seemed to have been stopped, et only the rain allowed itself to continue sliding against the air, drowning the grass and the roads in the surrounding area. You were sitting in front of the lake of your university, your jean surely full of mud up to your butt but you didn't care. It wasn't as if you intented going back to class then, you didn't fit in there. You were way too bad in every subject, and you couldn't manage to make friends. You were alone, everyday, all by yourself, having as your only companion your old phone and your long-standing friends, far, far away. You would have never believed that leaving high school would have been that hard, everyone told you life really beginned in collede. Then shit, if this was the start of you real life, then how would it end up ?

Nothing had a sense anymore today, separated from all that made you happy once. You didn't have your best friend anymore, she went to the US to study, and same for your other best friend who was more and more valued by many directors. Once, he was able to find some time for you at least for a few days, but since couples of months his schedule didn't allow him to take a break. It was impossible for him to take some time for you. Through text messages, you had made everyone believe everything in college was great for you, that you were happy and you spent your time having fun. But all of this was just lies, all of this was just false pretence so no one would be worried. They all rusted you, way too much concerned by their own life. Everything was vanishing.

How many nights had you spent crying in front of your room, empty of any life, watching through the window the shitty weather which was perfectly matching your mood and nostalgia. How much was it awful seeing all those groups of friends walking in the street laughing out loud, meanwhile you had trouble to simply smile. You remembered all this people all around the world, your old friends who might no event think of you while you were spending your time with your memories in mind. Tom and Harrison were the one you were missing the most, it was with this two guys you laughed the most your ass out, you weren't a girl who needed to polish her image while hanging with tem, you could be who you wanted to be, act as you liked it without having to worry about what they'd think of you then. It was with them you felt the more... You. But today they were only God knew where, maybe still in China, maybe back in Canada for shooting... Nor Thomas or Harrison had given you informations about their location, actually it had been few weeks you were on radio silence, but you obviously understood. They might be both exhausted and busy.

You sighed, throwing a pebble in the lake which rebound a few times you didn't count. You knew deep down inside of you you wouldn't take it until the end of the year, but you didn't know yet how you'd break down. A tear rolled on your cheek, a tear that went unnoticed since the rain was already flooding your skin. The world seemed to be set on pause and still the horizon was swirling around you.

“You'll catch a cold if you stay under the rain.”

You turned your head towards a familiar voice like no other. It was an hallucination, right, Tom couldn't really be standing right in front of you ? You heart missed a few beatings while you were busy scrutunizing the person facing you's face, this so spiecial someone who you missed as you never missed any other thing before.

“Is it really you ?” You feverishly asked. As a first answer to that question, he smiled.

“Wouldn't you prefer to go in a... drier place ?”

You instantly jumped on your feet, mud dripping along your legs, but fuck the filth had no importance there, not when he was finally here, few steps from you, steps you crossed the fastest you could until you found his arms back. How did he have done to arrive at the good time, right when you needed him the most ?

Neither of you undertook talking. The only thing that counted, it was your bodies against one another, your arms around his hips and his passing behind your shoulders. It was a hug so thight, so fueled on emotions, anyone who would have seen you would have felt the distress escaping from it. Tom kissed your temple without untying his embrace meanwhile you took advantage to snuggle up your head in his neck, his skin way warmer than yours, and reassuring.

“I thought you were filming, or on a press tour. Working...” You whispered lightly moving from his body so you were able to examine his face and every line forming it. You were close enough to him to notice his scar which sat prominently at the level of his former mole.

“I have a few days of free time. I told myself it'd be great to come visit you. But don't stay in here, ok ? Let's go to your place, safe from the rain.” You nodded.

The walk to your apartment was half silent, Tom understood by seeing you facing this lake that all wasn't going well as you were pretending so good, he understood you were hiding the truth, but he wasn't dumb enough to let you go with all your lies without real explanations. However, he didn't talk about this during the distance, he'd wait for you to be wrapped around your sheets, warm. He grabbed your hand in his, goosbumps going through his spine because of this freezing contact.

It needed almost an hour for you to be home and take a super hot shower. You left the bathroom with red cheedks and your first reflex was to grab Tom's arm around yours, as if you were holding him from leaving you again. Tom loved this contact you were offering him, he loved having found you back and the fact that you have both missed each other. He loved you.

Soon, The Lion King was playing on TV and you were lying on your bed wrapped around Tom's arms, your duvet over your wramed up bodies. Everything seemed so good, so perfect, you'd almost forgot the ordeal you daily lived in college.

“Are you planning on talking to me about it ?” Tom whispered.

“Talking to you about what ?”

Il te serra un peu plus fort dans ses bras, attristé de voir qu'il fallait te pousser à avouer tes maux. “Ce qu'il se passe réellement dans ta vie.”

He hold you a little thighter in his arms, saddened to see he had to push you so you'd confess your pain. “About what is really happening in your life.”

Your hear missed a rebound and you shook your head by reflex. “Everything's fine, Tom. My life is perfect. Let's just say I miss you all a bit, and I'd like us to be together like we have been for years, that's all.”

“I know when you're lying, Y/N.”

“If it was true then you would have talked to me about that a long time ago.” You sighed.

“So you admit it.” Thomas' tone was strangely calm, maybe he didn't want to get mad against you and impose you even more pain. You turned around to face him, you could seem distress in his eyes and could tell he was awfully concerned about your situation. “I wanna help you, Y/N. So tell me what is going on, you know I won't judge you.”

One of his hand went through your hair so he could put a strand of hair behind your ear, and suddenly the world seemed to be set on pause once again. You couldn't hear the songs of the movie unwinding anymore. “I can't do this. I'm struggling getting passing grades, I only succeed in three classes. I'm a loser. Here people don't like me, no one tries to know who I am. I just have this impression that I'm not good enough.” You pouted while your voice while breaking through the words. It was hurting you to finally admit it out loud. “I'm a real burden, Thomas, why does everyone do great but me ?”

He frowned in front of all those absurdities leaving your lips. Why on Earth did you think you were nothing, that people didn't need you ? His heart was breaking imagining the pain you could feel and he felt so sorry to not being able to detect your frustration sooner. Tom felt responsible for what you were going through all by yourself for a few months already.

“Hey, Y/N. You're not a loser, and you're not a burden, and you do are totally worthy. If this people don't like you, then it's their turn to be sad, because they are missing the best experience of their life.” He blushed. “They can go fuck themselves. We do not need them.” He took a breathe all knowing it wasn't the only subject you were terrified about. “And about your grades, it's that dramatic. A lot of people make wrong decisions while choosing their future, you're nor the first or the last one. If you're unhappy with it, then stop it right away, don't go any further into grief.”

You looked away, it seemed so easy when he said it. “But to do what ? I don't have any clue of what I want to do with my life !”

“Take a year to rest and recharge your batteries.” He shrugged before smiling, an idea going through his mind. “Travel with me.”

“Travel with you ?” A little laughed left your mouth, the idea was really pleasant. You pulled him closer to you and his hands instinctively went on your hips. “It's ridiculous.”

“Not at all ! That's what Haz already does, he follows me everywhere, just do the same. I'd be so happy to have you by my side. Because, well, the fact that I don't talk to you doesn't mean that I don't think about you, you know that. There's no day without your face going through my mind, or your laugh.”

Tom's eyes pushing through yours to the point you blushed. Shit, the idea was so, so, so pleasant, but wasn't it a mistake to give up ? You didn't really want to think about it now. “The way you flirt is shameful.” You tried escaping the discussion with a little touch of humour.

A smirk took place on his face. “I'm not flirting with you, not yet. But I could flirt with you everyday if you decided to follow me.” Disturbing, these words were disturbing. Tom blushed again, ready to expose his repressed feelings if it helped you make up your mind on what to do. “I could show you people love you, I could show you I love you.”

“Tom, I... Why do you...”

He shook his head, now afraid you didn't feel the same and feeling like a jerk. “No, no. Fo-forget about this, I'm sorry.”

“It's not that. I'm just afraid you're telling me this because you have pity for me. That would hurt me, I love you too.”

There was a silence. “Then stop arguing about that, just shut up and kiss me.”

You weren't so sure it was the best idea, but you thought why not. You had wanted his lips for years now, and he was finally giving his love to you. Plus, you needed it more than never before. You grabbed his cheek and came closer to him until your lips met for a first kiss full of sweetness and love. A kiss had never felt so right.

[hyphen-ish-blog]

---PLEASE READ---

This one requires some explanation, on many accounts. And since this will be the last thing I post to Tumblr, there’s someone I would insist read it through; I don’t know why I’m writing this explanation, but it seems to me to be the right thing. It may be an apology or an analysis, whichever you decide it most to be like.

Before I begin, I have tagged the person in this, but I’d like to clarify why. It’s not to guilt trip her and force her to read this, but because I still maintain the belief that she’s a good person and thusly deserves whatever good comes her way. Check out her blog, give her a follow and let her share with you the kindness that I was shown for just under 4 months (8 more days and it would have been 4 months, I did the math but then I have dyscalculus so maybe?) If she is reading this, I’d ask her to give the apology a chance first. Check out her pages @tranquilitude and @shadowysound

As I’ve stated before, I don’t like hurting people; I take it seriously when I do and try to change things. I knew I was hurting Maeve and Gabe, and because this is an emotion I’ve never dealt with before I couldn’t offer any guarantee that the guilt I was feeling over things wouldn’t seep through to just casual conversation, or that I wouldn’t end up using them as selfishly as I tend to. For that reason, I cut them off – in some part, I tried to make it obvious to them what had happened, I suppose, so that I could be held to it, and so that I couldn’t regress back into speaking to them and making them feel bad. Burning bridges, again. And further, what I imagine people don’t see (or specifically, one person) is that everything I publish here is ad absurdum. If something I post seems extreme, it may be because I think that the most interesting way of portraying something is to radicalise it. Further, if something seems melodramatic, the chances are that it is intentionally as such. Ultimately, I don’t dislike people. I think there are a great many inconsistencies in character that can make them difficult and frustrating, but in the end, we’re simply humans trying to live in accordance with our principles, whatever they may be. We live with a specific view of ourselves. We want to be a certain way, and so follow certain trends, speak a certain way, and dress and act idiosyncratically. These attempts to be a certain person can be inauthentic; this is not shameful, it’s a part of the sad reality of being human that our identities are hidden behind a thin but opaque veil, and in attempting to glimpse them, people turn towards reinventing themselves. This is something of which I think everyone is guilty somewhat, whether it’s in attempts to be thinner or lighter, stronger or cooler, I’ll confess that my rhetoric of trying to be a good person is likely derived from this also, that in disgust of what else could be there, I try to portray a certain identity which oftentimes proves itself to be false. This permeates still to things like fashion – some women I know get haircuts which they believe will make them more masculine in dislike of femininity, or to even appear ‘butch’. This is an account I give of many people, not just one.

Onto the hard-hitting stuff, and I would ask you, reader (whomever you are) to begin at least non-judgemental. Whomever I am on Tumblr is not who I am in person, and this is likely the case for most people on here, whether they know it or not. Because Tumblr has this ambiguity, there’s nothing to hold you to being anything other than your ideal person on here, or to being inauthentic. Difficulties arise when you try to be a specific person on Tumblr, but it has links to your reality. If people you know have your URL, the person you portray may seem offensive to them in its mischaracterisation of you. Or even more so, the person portrayed may be offensive in its own right because with the ambiguity of Tumblr it’s easy to speak your mind. The things I have written in poems etc. I don’t hold to be true; perhaps a permutation of the truth, an artistic rendering, but in themselves are not generally true. When I have written before, it’s been with inspiration from a small event in my life which I have chosen to explore in greater detail, which can include fabricating things or pulling in elements of other archetypes. I am currently dealing with a difficult break-up; my first, in all honesty, and I will own that it’s not something I’ve dealt with well. Throughout none of this has it been my intention to transfer guilt onto anyone (this I can’t emphasise enough) but it seems to have happened nonetheless through the ‘artistic renderings’ I’ve constructed of things, or in my attempts to process emotions by externalising them. I have never denied that what I have subjected people to has been unfair, or said that I don’t regret it, but it’s a path I’ve travelled without hope of return from. Being on Tumblr has been strange for me, and my continued presence has been an agitator for someone I cared about. I suppose it may be because of how personal a medium poetry is – we used to write poems about each other (not much, but on occasion) which may be why the poems I still write seem so personal to her.

It has helped me to be able to externalise my emotions, to express them, and receive external acknowledgement of them as they are noticed by people and read. It’s made them real so that I can process them better, but clearly this isn’t the right medium for it. Tumblr was hers and I suppose it was disrespectful of me to have thought that I could have a continued presence on here irrespective of her. I thought that, because this was her (3rd?) relationship, she would have moved on almost instantly; evidently, she has still been reading my posts, and shamefully I have been doing likewise. I’ve held myself back from doing so habitually, maybe just once every two weeks, but it’s something I’ve still been doing. Unwisely, as many of the things she’s written were under the same pretence as I have been writing under – that we weren’t seeing each other’s things, and so some of the things she’s said I have found hurtful also (I’d imagine that identically to my blog, they weren’t meant to be hurtful, just a commentary).

To get this off of my chest, the previous poem I wrote wasn’t exclusively about you, it was mainly about myself, and how I’ve realised that Tumblr has influenced my personality and preferences, how it’s enabled me to be so introspective that I could be in a ‘glass house’ and never look outside.

If she does elect to read this, I apologise, to her and to Maeve and to Gabe. I trust she will have the decency not to share this blog with them because they have links to my life and I would rather keep this blog separate from that. But it is for the reasons above, because this site permits this inadvertent harm to people I care about, because it permits portraying an identity which is so false and fantastical, because it was never mine to use to begin with, because it isn’t helping me to move on, because who I am on here is so false and misleading, because it has helped me to be a worse person, and because there are things in my life I should think are so much more important than it, that this will be my last activity on Tumblr. It may not be for all people, but for me this site is cancer now.