#christine looks pretty happy and content! :)

[britishchick09]

rewrite eristine's kiss- a lovely story in three lovely parts ♥♥

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training VI (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

You were helping Christine out in the kitchen when Margaret brought her daughter downstairs. The brunette was really kind, you’d come to learn, patient in making sure you got everything right. She didn’t seem bothered by your quiet disposition, instead content to simply talk to you with no expectation of any responses in return.

When the other brunette made herself known, Christine had awed.

“Oh, she’s getting so big,” she cooed, pausing in what she was doing. “Almost a year now, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Margaret breathed, a bright smile on her face. “Steve’s already talking about trying for another.”

You turned away, resting your gaze on kneading the dough, afraid to screw it up and afraid to stare in the face of your possible future. Although, you supposed that there was nothing possible about it, and you struggled to accept that. Your chest grew tight as you heard them fuss over the baby girl behind you, not wanting to entertain the thought of that being you one day, all smiles and sparkly eyes as you held Peter’s baby.

“Do you want to hold her?”

It took you too long to realize that Margaret was talking to you, and you hesitantly looked over your shoulder. They were both quiet as you looked between them, an encouraging smile on Margaret’s face as your gaze eventually fell to the little girl in her arms. You felt unsure, glancing down at your hands before brushing them on your apron.

“I…” you gestured to the dough. “I’m a mess and…I don’t know if I should…”

“It’s okay,” the new mom softly encouraged. “She loves meeting new people.”

She was approaching you before you could protest any further, and you carefully took the baby when she handed her off. You supposed that Margaret was telling the truth, her daughter taking you in with wide eyes and studying you just as much as you were studying her. She was very sweet, very cute, and you felt yourself frowning a bit.

“I’m taking her for a walk around the property,” Margaret mused, and Christine hummed at that as she continued cooking. “Get her some fresh air and sun. Maybe even let her crawl around a bit.”

She poked at her daughter’s cheeks, a fond smile on her own rosy lips, and she let out a sigh.

“Pretty soon there’ll be more babies filling up this house, and then Laura, Sharon, and I won’t feel so alone.”

Margaret said it so casually, and you blinked for several reasons. For one thing, you didn’t know that Laura and Sharon had children too, and again, you were reminded of how isolated you felt from the other women. They probably sat around and chatted with each other about these things, those three in particular maybe even watching their children play.

In the same train of thought, your stomach churned at the mention of more children. You wondered just how long Margaret had been here for her to be so casual and content with her situation, to talk about everyone’s situation this way. Then again, you wondered if it had more to do with who she was married to. With a husband like Steve, there probably wasn’t any other choice but to find happiness in this predicament in some way.

Either that or be wholly miserable all the time.

Be humiliated all the time.

Her words had you handing her child back to her, and it was then that Steve appeared at the entrance of the kitchen. The sight of him had you flinching, and you almost felt like you were wrong to touch his child, stepping away from Margaret just as she smiled at the blond.

“There you are,” he said, smiling back at her and fully stepping into the kitchen.

You discreetly returned to the dough, but you could feel his gaze on you.

“I was just bringing Sarah down for a walk and wanted to visit whoever was in here making breakfast for everybody,” she sweetly replied, and you wondered if it was exhausting to have to appear to be that happy all the time.

You couldn’t imagine Peter expecting that of you, and you looked down, thinking of that morning in which Peter had forced you to watch Steve punishing Margaret. You felt your skin grow cold as you recalled his brutality, just the sheer act of treating someone that way, and especially for something as minor as messing up food or not smiling as big as he expected.

In the back of your mind, there was a stray thought of gratitude that you weren’t in her place.

“That’s great, honey,” you heard Steve tell her, and it sounded genuine. “Especially since Y/N is here.”

You paused at that, hesitantly looking over your shoulder, shuddering as your gaze met his. Despite the smile on his pink lips, the look in his blue eyes didn’t quite match, an emptiness to them that had your stomach sinking.

“It’ll be good for her to be around the children more,” he mused, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his wife’s forehead, never taking his eyes off of you. “It’ll help her get…acclimated to how things are around here.”

You understood the words that went unsaid, turning back around and fighting back tears.

Steve wanted you to face your future, to stare at it head on and accept your fate. He wanted you to see the wives with their kids and maybe even interact with the small children, slowly opening up to the idea of children your own someday. At that thought, you wondered if Margaret had even come down here of her own volition, or if it was carefully orchestrated by the same man who’d orchestrated everything else in this house.

You only released a shuddering breath when they both left, and you found your thoughts drifting to Peter. He was still in bed when you’d made your way downstairs per the routine, something you were a bit better at now. You were still a God-awful cook, but as long as Steve wasn’t standing over you, you were fine. Funnily enough, outside of the night you’d cooked fish, the only time you’d come close to that was when Peter had helped you that morning.

There was a brief thought that you wished you had his help, now.

You immediately paused at that, gently shaking your head with a frown. You shouldn’t want Peter’s help for anything, even if only to make your time here easier. The hand he had in your kidnapping was astronomical. After all, he was the sole reason you were even here. As much as you didn’t want to subject anyone else to this, you sometimes wondered about what would’ve happened if you’d never gone into that diner that day.

Maybe you, Pietro, Wanda, and MJ would be almost to Florida by now. Maybe you’d be in some town a lot nicer than this, enjoying historical monuments and whatever shopping mall Wanda would no doubt be excited for. Tears kissed your eyes at the thought, and you wiped your face with the back of your hand.

Thinking about your friends made you sad, but not thinking about them felt…disrespectful. You couldn’t forget them, for as long as you lived, but reliving your time with them and wondering about what could’ve been hurt too much. It made your chest ache in ways that almost brought you to your knees, and you were grateful when Christine gently reminded you to roll the biscuits out small.

“Will I ever get to go outside?”

Your question was so quiet that it was a wonder Peter even heard it, and you looked over your shoulder at him as he took his utility belt off. So much of your road trip had been dedicated to nature and outdoor activities, courtesy of your contribution, and being stuck in this house and only able to gaze up at the stars from a barred window was getting to your head. It was even worse during the day, unable to step outside and soak in the sun.

You knew why, of course.

“Eventually,” he finally answered, slowly making his way to you. “Probably not anytime soon though…”

His word choice was not lost on you, and you blinked at him, frowning slightly.

“It’s just like with the basement,” Peter explained, drinking you in. “The same way Steve wouldn’t let you out if he thought you were a danger to anyone or was going to escape…”

He trailed off, letting you fill in the dots, and you turned back around to look up at the sky. You could feel Peter’s gaze on you as you pressed your forehead to the window, just standing and watching the outside world. You were sure that if you were let outside, right now, you would run. You probably wouldn’t even be able to help it.

However, the thought of being caught mentally scared you away from the mere possibility.

You glanced over your shoulder when you heard Peter walk away, watching him disappear into the bathroom. You stared at the door for some time before turning back around. You didn’t like sleeping next to Peter…but you’d unfortunately found that sleeping without him was impossible.

The nightmares still woke you up sometimes, and in your delirious and fearful state, it was easy to accept his comfort as he shushed you and held you. It was shameful really, and your gaze found the floor. It was usually why you took this time to get into bed before him. You liked to pretend like you were asleep whenever he got out of the bathroom, unwilling to watch him crawl into bed and lay beside you.

It was easier to pretend this way.

You pulled the covers over you, still staring at the window, and you pressed your lips together. You felt like you were in some screwed up purgatory, stuck between the traumatic events that led to your capture and your inevitable future. You were unable to go back to before it had happened, but your mind wasn’t ready to go forward either.

You weren’t ready to become like Jane and find happiness here, smiling at Peter whenever you saw him, and you for sure weren’t ready to become like Margaret or Laura or Sharon. You couldn’t imagine having a baby with the man who’d kidnapped you and ruined your life, smiling at the child like a gift instead of what it really was.

Physical evidence of just how in deep you were.

Thoughts of your nightmarish future guided you to sleep, and the next time you woke up, Peter’s arm was around you, holding you in place and attempting to keep you from flailing. Your chest was heaving, and his other hand was on your head, smoothing over it as he gently shushed you.

“You’re okay,” he breathed. “You’re safe…”

The cool air hit your face, and it was then that you realized you’d been crying in your sleep. You couldn’t stop though, because your nightmare wasn’t just a nightmare. It was real, and you were currently living it. Peter’s soft and soothing tone wasn’t doing much, and your forehead pressed into your pillow, your tears wetting it.

“Y/N…”

You really didn’t like Peter saying your name, the sound of it coming from his lips causing a shudder to climb up your spine. He pulled you into his arms, wrapping them around you, and you were wetting his chest with your tears now instead. He rocked you, gently, wiping your face and telling you that you were okay.

…but the last thing you felt like was okay.

You felt so far from okay.

“Are…are you going to make me have a baby too?”

Your voice was but a whisper in the quiet room, and you felt Peter pause. He didn’t answer right away, and the more his silence stretched, the lower your heart sank.

“We don’t have to figure that out, right now,” he whispered back. “It’s just you and me, okay?”

You sniffed.

“…but…but Steve wants the house to be full of children…” you heard and felt Peter sigh. “He expects me to have children. I know he does, I could see it on his face.”

You continued when Peter didn’t respond.

“…and what he wants he gets, right? Right?” you tearfully wondered, trembling at the thought.

“That’ll be between you and me,” Peter softly told you, playing with your hair and stroking your back. “…and we don’t have to talk about that, now. It’s okay.”

You swallowed, tearfully staring into the darkness and feeling pathetic that of all people, Peter was the only one you found yourself confiding in.

“I’m scared, Peter…”

“Of what? Of me…?”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Peter almost sounded offended at the thought. You didn’t know how to tell him that you were afraid of him. You were afraid of him and Steve and every other man here, afraid of their capabilities and the predicament they’d put you in. Of course, you were afraid of Peter.

The power he held was what got you here in the first place.

Everything about Peter terrified you. He looked like an angel, but one word from him silenced your friends forever and forced you into captivity. You supposed he was the nicer of the bunch, yes, but there was something about him that Steve clearly respected, something about him that could talk you out of being punished and buy more time for you to adjust.

Your mind drifted to that day in the kitchen, the finality in Peter’s tone as he addressed Margaret. You thought about her lack of argument, how easily she’d accepted something that evidently wasn’t normal all because Peter had made his position on it clear. You thought about how at ease he was around the men who’d killed your friends, how he talked with them and laughed with them and probably thought of them as friends. Brothers even.

Yes.

You were very afraid of Peter.

…because he was both the source of your torment and your comfort.

The same man who’d put you in this situation was the one who held you late into the night, keeping the nightmares at bay. The very same nightmares that he caused. Peter was the one you turned to whenever you were unsure about anything, unable to get direction from anyone else. He was the one you hid behind or sought out whenever Steve’s cold blue eyes fell onto you.

Peter had put you in this predicament…and he was the one you needed to survive it.

It twisted you up in ways you couldn’t even understand, and you hated the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

“I’m scared of everyone here,” you honestly told him. “I want to go home.”

Peter didn’t say anything to that, just softly rubbing your back. It was something you said often, and even though you both knew it wasn’t going to happen, you couldn’t stop saying it aloud. It was something you just needed to say, and Peter let you.

“Sweep up every last bit of glass…”

Steve’s cold voice had you trembling harder, and you kept your gaze on the mess before you.

“We have children that crawl around here, and I’ll be damned if one of them hurt themselves because of your clumsiness.”

You fought back tears as the blond loomed over you, shaking as you brushed more glass into the dustpan. Natasha had thought nothing of telling you to dust the foyer, an easy enough task. That was what you’d thought anyway, but somehow, you’d managed to knock over the vase on the table by the entrance, and you’d heard the thunder of heavy footsteps before the sound of shattered glass had settled into the air good. Even before Steve had rounded the corner, you knew how badly you messed up.

An apology was barely on your lips when Steve had started tearing into you, ordering you to hurry up and clean the glass. You knew he had a point about the children, and you did feel bad, but it was a genuine accident.

“That vase has been in this family for years,” he said, making you feel even worse. “…and one afternoon with you and it’s gone just like that.”

When all the glass was in the trash, you got the feeling that Steve wasn’t quite done with you, evident in the way he still stood by the foyer. Your stomach turned as you faced him, and your mind drifted to the basement. If Steve would punish his wife like he had over the smallest of things, there would be no telling what waited for you over a family heirloom.

Then again, you didn’t belong to Steve…and you hated how much that comforted you.

“Peter’s at work,” the blond hummed, and you warily eyed him. “…so, you’ll have to be punished in a way that won’t upset him too much.”

You frowned at that, eyes widening at the yard stick Steve revealed from behind his back.

“You’re adjusting…but not fast enough.”

You glanced around, and you weren’t hopeful enough to think that no one was around to witness your scolding. They were there but were no doubt hiding from the blonde’s wrath lest it latch onto anyone within the vicinity.

“That vase has been dusted a hundred times, and only with you did it become a broken mess.”

You blinked back tears, struggling to find your voice.

“I’m sorry, Steve. It…it won’t happen again,” you forced out, and he hummed.

“You’re right. It won’t,” he breathed. “Hold out your hands.”

You weren’t quite sure you heard him correctly, and you looked at him in confusion, brows drawn together. Steve’s face was as serious as ever, and at the sight, your tears finally spilled over. You pulled your lip between your teeth, shaking as you did as he told you.

“Flatter,” he said, flattening the yard stick underneath your hands until they were flat and even.

He tapped them twice.

“Palms up.”

If it was possible, your eyes widened further, but the fear of worse had you obeying him, and the deep breath you took didn’t prepare you for the pain you felt when Steve struck your hands. Against your best interest, you snatched them towards you, holding them to your chest. You held in a sob as Steve tsked.

“Hold them out,” he slowly demanded, and they were shaking even more now as you did.

Your palms were up, and Steve raised his hand, raising the yard stick with it before bringing it down across your palms again. You hissed this time, hands lowering some, but you kept them upright, knowing that was what he wanted.

He’d brought the long piece of wood down onto your palms fifteen times, each time hurting worse than the last. By the time Steve was done, you were a sobbing mess, your palms red and aching. He’d given you another lecture on the importance of being careful, but you’d been in too much pain to clearly hear a word he said.

You stumbled up to your room the second he dismissed you, clutching your hands to you the whole way.

Your back met your door as soon as you closed it, shaking so bad it was a wonder you were still standing. At that thought, you stumbled to your bed, tripping over your feet and collapsing onto the mattress. You knew that you should run your hands under some water at least, maybe even ask around about something to put on them, but you were in too much pain and too humiliated to do that.

They burned, and the only thing you were capable of doing was crying yourself to sleep.

It wasn’t an easy sleep, drifting in and out, the pain bleeding through your subconscious and waking you up here and there. With the form of punishment Steve had chosen, you surmised that you weren’t expected to carry out the rest of your duties for the rest of the day.

The next time you opened your eyes, you weren’t alone.

Peter’s fingers were on your forehead, smoothing them along your sweat-kissed skin. You thought you were dreaming at first, but when your eyes remained open, the brunette gave you a rueful smile. The sight made your face crumble, and a fresh wave of tears spilled over.

“Oh, pretty girl,” he sighed. “Steve told me what happened.”

You squeezed your eyes shut at the mention of the blond.

“It was an a-accident,” you choked out. “I didn’t-.”

“I know,” he exhaled, fingers gently trailing down your arm. “I wish I had been here. I should��ve been the one to…”

He trailed off, but you knew what he was going to say. As crazy as it sounded, you also would’ve rather Peter had been the one to dole-out your punishment. With his hands on your arms, Peter helped you sit up, guiding you to your feet. You couldn’t stop shaking, sobs still climbing out of your lips as he pulled you into the bathroom.

He turned the cold water on, and you hissed when it ran over your palms. Peter left you for some moments, and when he returned, he turned the water off. You noticed that one of his hands were occupied, and when he sat you back down on the bed, he gently told you to hold out your hands.

You watched him kneel before you, rubbing some salve on them, something that made you initially hiss, but his circular movements with his fingers were gentle.

“A lot of things won’t be tolerated around here,” he quietly started, and you looked down. “It’s taking a lot for you to adjust, and that’s okay considering…”

Silence descended over you both for a few moments.

“…but Steve doesn’t have the patience for it. Not like I do,” he softly told you, glancing up at you as he wrapped your hands. “I can only protect you if I’m here because when I’m not…”

He continued wrapping your other hand.

“Your responsibility falls to Steve…or Sam…or Bucky, or Tony. Basically, any of the other husbands that can take it upon themselves to punish you themselves…or leave it to me.”

Peter set the gauze aside, fixing you with a gentle look as he rested his own hands on your knees.

“…and Steve isn’t the type to leave it to me.”

More tears fell, and Peter reached up to wipe them away.

“…but you work,” you tearfully said. “You’re not always here.”

Peter took a deep breath, gently grabbing your hands. You winced at the action, and you watched him bring your palms to his lips, kissing one and then finally the other.

“Do you want me to be here more?”

The question took you by surprise, and Peter looked up at you from beneath his lashes, dark strands kissing his forehead.

“I can take some time away from work if it means helping you…adjust.”

You sniffed.

“If it means looking out for you…”

More tears escaped, skipping down your cheek.

“Steve terrifies me…and I… If I have to be punished,” you struggled to say the word. “I would rather it be by you.”

Peter studied your face for a while, eventually nodding as he stood. He sat beside you on the bed, and you laid down, holding your hands to you. The balm helped with the pain some, but it was more so the humiliation and the recollection of the act that still had you crying.

Peter stroked your face, maneuvering you so that your head rested in his lap.

“It hurts, I know,” he said, tone soothing. “It’ll barely feel like anything at all in a week.”

His other hand rubbed your back, traveling to your waist and kneading the skin through your dress. The softness of his touch was a nice contrast to the flare of pain in your palms, to the memory of Steve’s punishing movements. When Peter took your hands again, pressing gentle almost nonexistent kisses to your palms, your lashes fluttered and disappointment filled you when he pulled them away.

[flagbridge]

Raoul de Chagny uniform inspiration, and general Raoul Navy musings

élève-officier ("elof") at the Borda in Brest, 1880s.

British Sub-Lieutenant (equivalent of an Ensign in the US or French Navies), approximately 1860 (by Ann Mary Newton)

Graduating students and faculty of L'Ecole Navale on board the Boarda, 1891

As some of you know, I love writing Raoul. My next projects after All Vows ends are mostly Raoul-centered, and I'm pretty deep in my research. I’ve tumbled absolutely headlong into researching La Baille (nickname for the French naval academy), and it’s amusing how across time and distance, so much of initial military training is unchanged. Even though I cosplay Christine, Raoul actually ends up being the character who I give most of my own life experience because I am, in fact, a Sailor. When I'm writing Raoul POV about being at sea, I sometimes use my own journal entries from past deployments when I was underway on the USS NEVERSAIL somewhere in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

I get a lot of questions about Raoul's uniform, so I'm sharing some of the above (hello talented artists, could we PLEASE get more Raoul Navy Phanart, I am BEGGING YOU)

élève-officier ("elof") at the Borda in Brest, 1880s.

This is exactly what Raoul's midshipman uniform would have looked like. As you can see from the photo from 1891, the uniform from that time and even a decade later is the same. Naval uniforms, especially dress uniforms change very infrequently. My dress uniform that I wear in 2024 is the same one that was designed by Mainbocher in 1941!

The term "élève-officier" translates literally to "student-officer", although most translate it as "officer candidate", which isn't inaccurate. They were then classified by year, so a first year student would be an élève-officier fourth class. However, the British and American term for a naval cadet is a "midshipman" which is often abbreviated to "mid". So "elof" is basically directly translated to "mid". However, there was an additional naval trainee rank, called "Aspirant". This was assigned to the naval cadets when they embarked for their tour du monde on actual warships. It's a unique rank that's basically a desgination that the individual is a senior at the academy--like a "Midshipman First Class", the term to describe seniors at the US Naval Academy.

2. British Sub-Lieutenant (equivalent of an Ensign in the US or French Navies), approximately 1860 (by Ann Mary Newton)

I couldn't find a good picture of a young/junior officer from this era in the French Navy but FUN FACT! The French Navy underwent a uniform shift in 1883. The officer uniform was largely unchanged, however, that short coat and triangular hat that we often associate with the end of the age of sail was phased out as a dress uniform. So it's possible that Raoul had a dress uniform very much like this around the time of Phantom of the Opera, but it was on its way out. The rank is accurate though! So if Raoul went to the opera in uniform in about 1881? This is what he would have looked like.

3. Graduating students and faculty of L'Ecole Navale on board the Borda, 1891

The uniforms were the same when Raoul would have graduated, and that is the Borda that is mentioned in the book. In my head this is Raoul's senior class photo (even though it's 10 years later), complete with a few guys who have no idea what's going on and aren't looking at the camera.

PotOmer Day 15: HEADCANON/Raoul Navy Uniform Musings

Between April 23 and June 11, I am posting 49 days of POTO content to mark the Omer, except on Shabbat. Previous days below the cut line.

Day 14: GIFSET-Ethan Freeman bows to the monkey.

DAY 13: LEROUX: HAPPY BIRTHDAY GASTON LEROUX (Ethan Freeman Reads Leroux)

Day 12: FANFIC: All Vows Chapter 38: my longfic that will be concluding at the end of May.

Day 11: (no post, Shabbat)

Day 10: FANFIC: All Vows Chapter 10 (Catch Up)

Day 9: ADAPTATION: Ghost of Zariya Hollow

Day 8: HEADCANON: Christine's Swedish Accent

Day 7: COSPLAY Hannibal Slave Girl Bodice Construction

Day 6: GIFSET: Raouls who make choices appreciation post

Day 5: PHIC UPDATE: All Vows Chapter 37! (And a bonus gif of Lily and Jon)

Day 4: (No post, Shabbat)

Day 3: GIFSET: Cape Twirl Comparison, Current West End Phantoms ('23-'24)

Day 2: BRAINWORM: "Ne Me Touchez Pas"

Day 1: GIFSET Robyns/Kerhoas: The Kiss

[dross-the-fish]

If you’re still doing drabbles, I’ve got one. Any character (or Anon) asking Erik, “Who was she?”

Decided to have Erik interact with a couple members of the crew. Set it early on so there's still some tension between them.

....

Enjoying the quiet of the garden one early evening and thinking himself alone Erik pulled a golden ring from his pocked and gazed thoughtfully at it. It had been nearly two months since he’d left Paris behind and despite the companionship offered to him by his current group, he couldn’t help but wonder what Christine was doing at this very moment. Was she happy? Did she ever think of her poor Erik?

“So, who was she?”

Erik whirled around to face the voice only to discover Lawrence Talbot leaning against the wall, hands shoved deep into his pockets and wearing a sullen look.

“Quoi?” Erik did his best to feign confusion while stowing the ring back in his pocket.

The corner of Larry’s mouth twitched in bemusement, “It’s to late for that, I already saw it. So come on, ‘fess up. Who was she?” he plopped himself next to the phantom on the bench, ignoring how Erik’s yellow eyes narrowed through the holes of his mask.

“That is not your business,” Erik grumbled, hoping the young man would go away.

“Come off it, we’re all friends now, or as near to it as we can be. The only one who’s still being secretive around here is you,” Larry prodded poking is elbow into the skeletal man’s rib cage.

Erik bristled, “Erik’s secrets must always remain Erik’s secrets or-“

“-or it will be a poor outlook on a goodly number of the human race. Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard it before. I’m not asking you to reveal one of your magic tricks I’m asking you who broke your heart and I’m asking as a friend,” Larry stressed, “You’re always moping around by yourself and you’d think as long as you’ve been with us you’d trust us a little more.”

With a sigh Erik relented, “You are aware of Christine Daae? Correct?”

Larry nodded, “The soprano right? She’s pretty famous.”

Erik nodded, “I was her teacher, I fell in love with her but she did not return it,” he spoke as though every word cost him, his hand curled into a fist around the pocket of his jacket where the ring had been placed.

“You’re still not over it, huh?”

With an angry cackle Erik shook his head, “I should be, shouldn’t I? She could have loved me as a friend, as a father, as a teacher. If I were any kind of decent man I would have been eternally grateful for that! It would have contented me!” he let out a shuddering breath, “But I am not decent, it was not enough and I find myself praying that when she dreams of me they are not nightmares. She kissed me and forgave me. She had no reason to but she did and I love her more for it than I have ever loved anything but I am still not content.”

He sighed and brought his hands up to his mask hiding his head in the palms of his hand. At length he spoke again, “Lawrence, do you know why I came to England and stayed with you?”

Larry stared at him, “Was it not because you were living in a rank sewer full of rats?”

Erik twitched visibly and let out a strained “No.”  

The young man leaned forward intently, waiting for an explanation.

“Because I knew if I stayed in Paris I would try to look in on Christine. I would be driven to follower her, at first, I’d tell myself it would be just to look but then I’d be unable to resist speaking to her. I’d tell myself simply talking to her would be enough but then I’d need more. Before long I would wish her to be mine again and Erik cannot know what he will do once he reaches that point. The only way to protect her from me is to put as much distance between her and myself as possible. Ah! But it hurts and I weep from the pain. I will impart upon you a drop of wisdom, Lawrence. Do not fall in love for it will consume you and you will never be free of it. It haunts you like a ghost!”

Larry shifted in his seat, “I…I think it’s a bit too late for that,” he confessed quietly.

This time it was Erik who leaned forward, “You have found a girl for yourself? A girl who does not return your affections?”

“It’s…it’s more complicated than that. The person I think I’m in love with, if it really is love, has been a close friend for years. I’m worried I’ll ruin what we have,” Larry whispered.

“If the other does not return your affection, then you most certainly will. If you wish to preserve your friendship you will never act on your feelings of love. It can only lead to your destruction!”

“That’s a bunch of rot,”

Both men turned and looked behind them at the source of the low, feminine voice.

“Hullo, Theo, when did you get here?” Larry waved at her.

“I’ve been eavesdroppin’ the whole time,” she replied boldly as she wedged herself between Larry and Erik on the bench, ignoring Erik’s hiss of protest.

“Really?! I had heard English manners were appalling but this is too much, Mademoiselle Kipp!”

“Go boil your head,” Theo stretched out her long legs and draped her arms over the back of the bench, “You’re giving the boy terrible advice and you know it!” she turned to Larry, “Listen, if this gal you’ve got yer eye on is worth goin’ after then do it. If she says no accept it and be a gen’leman, don’t get sour about it! She’ll still be your friend as long as you take rejection with a little grace.”

Erik glared at her, “What do you know of being in love? Are you even capable of it?”

Theo gave an unladylike snort, “I am and I learned a long time ago how to stay away from people I love. Much as I ‘ate to admit it being a danger to loved ones is a thing I’ve got in common with you,” she flashed her fangs at him, “But Larry hasn’t got that problem, he’s a good kid and I know he’ll do the right thing!”

“I think you’re forgetting something, Theo,” Larry said quietly.

“What’s that?”

Larry gestured at the setting sun and rose from the bench, “Once that sun drops below the horizon and the moon comes up, I’m a monster too.”

Theo’s face fell and even Erik stood to put a hand on Larry’s shoulder, “I forget that we are all in the same boat in one way or another, I am sorry, mon ami.”

Theo looked out across the grounds at an approaching, massive, figure, “Here comes Adam to collect you now,” she said and Erik did not miss how she cowered behind him a little.

“Are you still afraid of Adam?” the Phantom asked her, twisting around to look at her.

“He is awfully big…an’ well, I c’n smell he’s not human.”

Erik had since had his own altercations with the Frankenstein creature and he gave her a rare sympathetic nod, “He is quite…different.”

Adam came to a halt in front of them, his unblinking yellow gaze swept over the trio, “Larry, are you ready to come and take your serum?” he asked gruffly. When he noticed Theo and Erik drawing back from him his mouth thinned into a harsh line of displeasure.

Sensing tension in the air Larry quickly strode forward and took Adam’s arm, “I’m ready, we should go quickly before the sun sets,” he said.

Adam’s frown deepened and he gave Theo and Erik one last disgruntled look before he led Lawrence back to the lab where Edward Hyde was waiting.

“I will never get used to being surrounded by monsters,” Erik sighed as he sank back down onto the bench, “Ironic, isn’t it? Seeing as I am one.”

Theo shook her head, “It’s probably not comforting to you but I can smell that you’re as mortal and human as any man.”

“Coming from you? No, it is not,” Erik chuckled darkly, “Now if you don’t mind, I should like to be left alone, I have…much to think about.”

[thesconesyard]

Squeaking in under the wire tonight! (Didn’t help my phone died ten minutes ago lol!

Underneath the Western Sky

2. Greener Pastures

Montgomery Scott was happier than he had been in years.

Even if his brother had moved away from the ranch and into town, he was still closer than all the years they had spent apart when Scotty had left Scotland. He could saddle up a horse and go see Robbie in less than an hour. It had been hard to leave Scotland and Robbie behind, but he had done it to protect his brother’s life.

What Leonard had done, secretly writing to Robbie, and bringing the brothers back together, Scotty wasn’t sure he could ever fully thank him.

And wasn’t that just part of his happiness as well; a partner who treated him so well and loved him so deeply.

He whistled as he crossed the yard from the barn. Keenser had asked for help in the garden that morning. Some of the plants needed thinning and others were ready to pick. With his bad leg Keenser couldn’t do as many of the ground level tasks.

“Hello Keens!” Scotty called as he entered the garden.

The shorter man looked up and nodded. He wasn’t much of a talker, but Scotty never saw that as an issue. He knew Keenser enjoyed his chatter and he enjoyed Keenser’s quietness in turn.

“Where are we starting?” Scotty asked as he stopped next to him.

“Peas.”

“I’ll go high, ye’ll go low?” Scotty chuckled.

Keenser smiled and pointed at a basket nearby. Scotty grabbed it up and set it between them.

“Doing alright?” Keenser asked as they worked.

“Yes,” Scotty nodded emphatically. “Knowing Robbie is right there, where I can go see him when I want to…” He let out a content sigh. “It’s like a whole new world again.”

Keenser nodded as he dropped peas into the basket. Scotty dropped in a few as well, then stopped to open a pod.

“We taking some into the lasses?” he asked, popping one of the peas in his mouth.

“Yep.”

“Ooo, they’re just right,” Scotty said after he finished chewing. “Did ye try one?”

“Nope.”

Scotty laughed. “Want to get them picked, not eat them all, eh?”

Keenser grinned at him, then turned back to picking.

The afternoon passed pleasantly as they filled the basket with peas, then moved on to the carrots. Keenser’s birds roamed around them as they worked. Scotty was amused as the birds passed Keenser and all seemed to bump his good leg in greeting. One small bird in particular, Keenser picked up and let sit on his shoulder for a few minutes.

“You fellas got some greens ready for us?” Christine came into the garden behind them.

“Aye, we do,” Scotty answered with a smile. “Would ye like a hand carrying them in?”

“Oh I’ve got it Scotty, thank you.”

“Cooking them?” Keenser asked, looking over at Christine.

“Some of them,” she replied. “But I’ll leave some uncooked the way you like.”

Keenser smiled and nodded his thanks. Christine hefted the basket onto her hip and disappeared towards the house.

“Think we deserve a break,” Scotty told Keenser.

“Yep.”

Scotty gathered their few tools and Keenser led the way towards the front of the house. They’d clean up and sit on the porch until dinner. The shade would be cool and Scotty knew the others would slowly join them to get out of the heat.

And after dinner, as the sunset and the temperature cooled he and Leonard could go walk up along the creek and enjoy each other’s company. Yes, life was turning out pretty well for Montgomery Scott.

[yukidragon]

The Phantom of Sunny Day Jack Headcanons Teaser

Good news, everybody! I've been given the green light to share some of my headcanons about the world of the Phantom of Sunny Day Jack! It's just a little taste of the worldbuilding for now, but soon I'll be allowed to cut loose completely and ramble to my hearts content about the world, the project, and future plans.

Believe you me, I have thoughts about this AU.

First of all, as I’ve said previously, this AU isn’t just a retelling of Phantom of the Opera with a Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack reskin. Jack isn’t Erik from the musical, book, or whatever. He’s in a similar role, being the phantom of the opera house who wears a mask, but he’s still Jack. Considering the character of the phantom changes quite a bit depending on the telling of the story, I should hope that this won’t be too surprising. ;3

The MC takes the role that Christine Daae typically fills in a Phantom of the Opera story, but they are definitely not Christine. Their name, appearance, backstory, etc. are far more malleable, but they are 25+ years of age like the love interests, similar to the original SDJ game.

MC is a singer at the opera house and made some friends there, including the friendly director, who quickly became their best friend and a great support. Even the diva who is the shining star of the opera house is looking their way, though their relationship is more of a friendly rivalry since he’s seen MC’s potential to outshine him. MC has a childhood sweetheart that they lost touch with for what were less than ideal reasons, who has suddenly come back into their life wanting to mend their relationship.

Then, of course, there is the mysterious phantom of the opera who has never revealed his face to anyone… except a very special person who brightens up the dark and lonely life that he’s forced to live in the shadows by being his ray of sunshine. He sees the beauty in MC and their voice, and wants to help them to shine brighter than anyone else. He’s surprisingly sweet, kind, and supportive, which is a total opposite to all the dark rumors swirling around him. Surely they must be exaggerations, right?

While this is taking place in the late 19th century, this is an alternate universe, so things are a little different during this period than in our world. For one thing, the fashions and colors of this world's 19th century France are amazing. Just look at these gorgeous outfits!

Wait until you can see these without the shadows obscuring them. These sprites are just so, so pretty. EC and everyone else working on the art for this project has really created a world full of style~ ✨

Clearly, this world’s textile technology is pretty advanced, even if they’re still lagging in other areas. Also their cuisine is far more advanced as well since, let's face it, if we’re going to make an indulgent and stylish AU, why not throw in some comfort foods like pizza and hot cocoa with whipped cream as well?

An area where this world is far more progressive than our modern day world is with LGBT+ acceptance and rights. No one bats an eye at what pronouns you use, being trans or cis is just what you are, loving someone of any gender identity is just plain love, and it's not strange if you simply don’t have romantic or sexual desires, or just less of it than most.

Overall, this AU is meant to be an indulgent and comforting gothic romance, while also offering elements of intrigue, drama, and horror for spice. Sure, there are bad ends, but sometimes it’s fun to explore those sorts of darker narratives too along with softer happy endings full of love.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

[anothersebastianblog]

"Also why is A24 not starting promo man😭" They have started lol. Adam's cover article for NY Magazine is the first traditional media step. This is a Very Sensitive campaign. They are highlighting him first. Seb's coming next. The pretty actor cannot overshadow Adam in the marketing. It would defeat the purpose of the movie and signal to activists that this is more of the same from HW. Just be patient. And I am 90 percent sure both Seb and Adam will get an Oscar campaign.

Probably yeah, idk how much effort will be put into it but somehow they are gonna especially since many actors are considered in the various roundtables and actors on actors so i am happy that we are getting more content for sure

Not only that but the golden globes are the easiest noms to get, if played well (comedy category submission Christine look at me in the eyes)

[insertsickusername13]

They See Right Through Me

I wrote this entire thing on my phone while waiting for my stupid flight that got delayed like three hours. I promised myself I’d post it before we took off bc I haven’t posted any like, original content in so fucking long so it’s unedited but I present to you: Everyone forgets Jenna’s birthday except it’s the archer by taylor swift coded

word count: 2.7k

tws: mention of suicide, kinda graphic but no one dies

For Michael’s first birthday after the SQUIP, Jake rented out an entire retro arcade that Jeremy had found four hours away from Middleborough. They skipped school that day, took the train, and spent six hours playing games everyone but Michael hated. They were smiling the entire time.

For Jeremy’s first birthday after the SQUIP,  they all pitched in to buy him a new computer and spent the evening watching movies on his kickass macbook. 

They took Christine to New York for six days to see three different shows on broadway. Rich got a new skateboard and spent the day at the skate park receiving lessons from some professional skater Jenna had never heard of. It was all far too extravagant, courtesy of their insanely rich King and Queen (handsome Jake, pretty Chloe), but it’d become a defining characteristic of their friend group—the ‘squip squad’, as Michael had dubbed it. They threw crazy fucking birthday parties.

Jenna didn’t exactly expect the same for herself. Though it was never explicitly stated that she still wandered in the outskirts of the group, fitting in only when it was convenient or there was an extra seat in the car, it remained an unspoken fact. She wasn’t even sure they were aware of it. They didn’t think about her long enough for it to even occur to them that she had no where else to sit, that she considered most of them to be her best and only friends.

Thinking about it realistically, she’d probably get a cake. Maybe a couple gifts, if she was lucky. A balloon.

She wouldn’t admit it out loud to a soul, but there was a spark of disappointment when she got to her locker that morning to be met with math textbooks and an uneaten granola bar from the day before rather than streamers and her friends singing to her. She glanced around, a pathetic show of hope, a last-ditch effort to believe she was more than the little bits of gossip she contributed to the group. Jake was walking briskly in the other direction, his hand on Rich’s back, dragging him away from the English class they were both supposed to be going to and towards the single-stall gender neutral bathrooms on the first floor only one person was supposed to be in at a time. Christine was standing by the stairwell with Jeremy, animatedly talking about a musical she’d discovered. 

No one was looking at her. 

Jenna walked to class without a good morning from a single one of her friends. Even worse, she didn’t get a happy birthday either. 

She held out until lunch. All morning she listened aptly to every word spoken, groping and striving to find enough gossip that she’d capture the attention of the entire lunch table just long enough for someone to say, ‘by the way, isn’t it your birthday today?’

Dustin apparently slept with Kylie. Barely interesting, considering his rep, but Kylie was claiming he only got off after licking her toes, and one of Jake’s favorite jokes was pretending he had a foot fetish. That was her in. 

She sat down, already buzzing with the anticipation of all eyes on her, their attention captivated. But before she could get a word out, Jake hopped up onto the table, clapping his hands twice to capture the undivided attention of everyone within a ten foot radius. 

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.”

Jenna was torn between the hope building in her chest, distracting and loud, as bright and sporadic as a display of fireworks, and the instinctive, all-consuming urge to forget every opinion she’d ever held just to listen to Jake Dillinger speak. Though the squip had taught the group to value themselves and not societies ideals of normal, that did nothing to dismantle the hold Jake held on the stent body. 

“As many of you are aware,” he continued, flashing his crowd a winning smile, “Our dear friend, Christine, holds the talent of a million Anne Hathaways combined, and it seems a local director has finally acknowledged the full extent of her talent and cast her as Blanche in a showing of A Streetcar Named Desire!” At the grand announcement, a round of applause flitted throughout the cafeteria. Jenna was so caught up in it she almost missed the disappointment of Jake ignoring her birthday. 

It didn’t settle until he was sitting back down. Still smiling, he said, “Pinkberry tonight as a celebration, ladies? Then drinks at my place?”

Jenna frowned. She tried to find the flicker of hope she’d kept burning all day somewhere in her chest, nestled safely between the growing admiration for her friends as they went from ruthless bullies to kind, genuine actors and actresses and nerds and the ghostly confidence she still had in herself that she fought everyday to keep even vaguely alive. She found empty darkness and the daunting realization that there was no more time for them to pull in with a surprise. She understood forgetting in the morning—knowing her friends, they’d all probably stayed up too late the night before—but this was…

They’d forgotten. They’d all forgotten. They were throwing a party for goddamn Christine Canigula, the girl so pretty and talented Jeremy was willing to let himself be mind controlled just for her affection, on Jenna’s birthday.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to stay exactly where she was seated, on the edge of the table next to Michael, and just start crying. She wanted them to see her tears and ask if she was okay and she wanted to scream their mistakes in their faces and watch the realization. She wanted their pity, even if it was faux and layered with the knowledge that they should feel bad even if they didn’t, because she needed them to look at her. To see her. To convince her that she hadn’t already died, that she wasn’t just a ghost so unwanted she’d been turned away from heaven and damned to pine after the attention of people who didn’t want her. She was prepared to wander the halls of Middleborough as the outline of a girl until it burned or rotted away.

But she rose to her feet instead, slow and unassuming, and walked away, her bag over her shoulder. She was pretty sure Michael cast a second glance over his shoulder—a split second, could he see her?—but there was the ever growing possibility that it was out of curiosity rather than concern.

That theory was proved when she walked out of school without a text. When she drove herself home in her crappy-ass car that she could barely afford and no one bothered to check if she was okay. When the group chat (that she’d notably had to ask to be let into) kept texting like nothing was wrong, like there wasn’t supposed to be candles and cakes and balloons at every corner. 

She settled on the floor next to her bed, her vision blurred by tears she wasn’t prepared to let anyone see.

She didn’t know what she was doing wrong. She was better than Chloe at least, right? She was never ruthless like Chloe was. People didn’t quiver at the sight of her, didn’t flinch when she brushed up against their arm, so why were they so willing to take Chloe to a fashion show in Paris for her birthday while Jenna sat alone in her bedroom?

She considered killing herself just so they would mourn. She considered doing it in the ugliest way possible, with blood and guts and tragedy entwined in every vein of hers that laid exposed. She considered doing it on her birthday so they’d know it was their fault. You forgot, her funeral would scream, you fucking forgot. 

But to do that would be to admit defeat; to admit that her friends, whom she admired more than anything, were bad to her. Terrible. 

She’d tell them. It was that simple. She’d tell them it was her birthday, then they’d apologize and be good to her.

She got dressed up. She wore a long summer dress, a butterfly barrette in her hair, a silver necklace—she thought she looked like a princess. 

She left without looking in the mirror long enough to question if she was attractive, if the outfit wasn’t enough to hide her inherent ugliness that surely everyone constantly saw, and showed up to pinkberry an hour before they agreed to meet. 

She wasn’t going to be the first one there, she decided. That would be too far. Too obvious. She waited in her car until Christine, Brooke, and Chloe showed up, all in Brooke’s car. She slipped in before the boys had a chance to arrive as to not appear too late with a natural smile on her face. 

Conversation was already bubbling when she sat down next to Christine, far enough from the edge that someone would be forced to sit next to her and she’d be sandwiched between two people. When the boys arrived Michael plopped down next to her, the smell of weed clinging to his clothes.

“Sup,” he said, and it took her a moment to realize that it was directed at her.

“Hi?”

She and Michael weren’t friends. She didn’t want Michael to pay attention to her. She wanted Chloe. Brooke. Jake. Rich. The clique of popular kids who supposedly weren’t popular anymore but really were.

Michael squinted at her. 

“You’re eye shadow’s glittery,” he said while Christine summarized the plot of A Street Car Named Desire for everyone else. 

Jenna nodded briefly at him before turning to Jake and opening her mouth. The plan was the same. Enter with the foot fetish story, transition into her birthday. 

“Hey, did you hear—“

“I bet English teachers fuck that play in their free time,” Jake laughed, leaning back and draping his arm over Rich’s shoulder. Christine squawked and shot something about metaphors and unnecessary crude jokes back at him. Jake accepted her criticism but turned to Rich and whispered something else that had them both giggling.

Jenna tried again.

“Jake! Did you—“

His attention was stolen by Brooke blowing bubbles into her smoothie. He laughed. Jenna tried to keep her hurt masked by anger and determination. She’s tell them. They’d feel bad. She’d be okay. 

“Jake—“

She wasn’t even sure what Jeremy said, but Jake was listening attentively, completely unaware of Jenna.

She clenched her fists into her dress.

“Dude, I don’t think he can hear you.” 

She turned back to Michael, eyes narrowed.

“No fucking shit.”

“Aye, I’m being nice here.”

“Really?” she said, eyes widened and vowels drawn out to try and emphasize just how deep her sarcasm ran. 

Michael rolled his eyes before he gaze settled on her, daring her to continue speaking. To insult him further. To say something mean enough that it wouldn’t be out of proportion for him to snap back at her.

She didn’t want him. He was a loser. Beyond a loser, beyond the social hierarchy. He resided on a scale all of his own entitled ‘Liked Because He’s Friends With Jeremy and Gives Jake Free Weed.’ Even she didn’t have to talk to him. 

But he was looking at her. Cold and uncaring, his gaze remained pinned to her face, lazily examining her expression. He could see her. 

“Dustin has a foot fetish,” she sighed. 

Michael stared at her. He didn’t seem to understand. 

She decided it was simpler to say, “It’s my birthday,” than continue her stupid attempts to get someone to remember.

Michael’s stare remained blank. Then, slowly, he blinked awake and sat up a bit straighter.

“Like, your birthday-birthday? The day you were born?”

Jenna nodded. There was a lot she wanted to say, complaints she wanted to voice, but it felt like something was clawing at her vocal chords and whispering promises of sobs and cries so pitiful they’d be forced to ignore her out of discomfort rather than gather around to provide support.

“Why…uh, why aren’t we doin’ a party thingy?”

Jenna shrugged and crossed her arms. Michael frowned.

“Whaddya want to do?”

“Anything,” Jenna breathed, quiet and pained. She had to blink rapidly to keep tears from forming. Michael nodded seriously and rose clumsily from his seat. 

“K,” he said, then stuck out his hand for her to take, “Let’s go.”

Because it was Michael standing up and not her, Jeremy paused his conversation to ask, “Where’re you going?“

“Out,” Michael snapped back like a preteen just learning what the term independence meant. Without waiting for Jenna to look up from her lap (hiding her trembling lips), he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her from the booth.

“You’re all bitches!” he called out behind him, so confidently yet so muddled by his determination to keep himself standing upright that Jenna couldn’t help but snort out a watery laugh. 

Michael dragged her to his rundown car, paused in front of the driver’s seat, and said, “You should probably drive.”

“Me?”

“I am like, way too high to be driving.”

Jenna scrabbled for the lingering bits of the mask she upheld. She straightened her posture, turned her hesitant smile into a condescending grimace and said, “God, you’re such a fucking loser.”

Michael didn’t dignify her with a response. He stumbled over to the passenger seat, sat down, and waited. Jenna didn’t have any choice but to get into the driver’s seat.

The second she was seated, Michael said, “We’re not gonna do the mean girl shit. I deal with enough of that shit sitting with fucking Brooke and Chloe. This is escaping, Jenna. Now drive us to Shop Rite and be fucking nice about it.”

Jenna was in no place to deny him. She drove them there in tense silence, questions sitting on her tongue, so heavy she couldn’t even speak them. 

Why do they like you? Why do they treat you better than me? You’re a loser. You’re worse. Why can they see you?

Michael bought her a cake and candles. They sat on the roof of his car in the darkness, Michael’s phone pinging with constant text messages from their friends asking what the fuck was going on (Jenna thought she glimpsed a text from Chloe asking if he and Jenna were having a secret affair). Jenna had her hands clasped politely in her lap, unable to look at him. She thought she finally understood why people didn’t like her.

She couldn’t talk. Michael had told her to drop the act, to be herself, and now she couldn’t talk. Everything she tried to say was an extension of someone else. A rerun of an insult Chloe had said weeks ago, a joke that vaguely resembled something Jake had said. 

“Do ya want me to sing, or do you just wanna blow out the candles?”

Jenna blinked back tears and shrugged. 

“I suck at singing,” Michael said. Jenna almost insulted him. She kept her mouth clamped shut. 

“…so,” he continued, hesitant now, “Maybe uh, just blow them out?”

I wish they could see me, she thought as she blew out all eighteen of the candles Michael had lit. She was only turning seventeen, but it was sweeter than what anyone else had done, so she didn’t bother commenting on it. 

As if reading her mind, Michael whispered, “Sorry they forgot.” 

Jenna shrugged. 

“Do you, uh, wanna eat?”

Jenna wasn’t sure she’d be able to swallow any cake he gave her. Still, he cut her a slice with a plastic fork he’d bought and passed it to her on a paper plate with the words ‘Happy Birthday!’ printed in bright pink letters across it. She accepted. 

“So…what do you like?”

“Hm?” 

“Well I gotta get you a gift now, right? Somethin’ nice as compensation for being a total dick all day.”

Jenna liked gossiping. She liked pinkberry. She could pretend to like Shakespeare if she tried, but she had the sinking feeling that wasn’t what Michael was asking. 

The last thing she remembered genuinely wanting to be was a princess, or maybe an explorer. 

“Uh, nature, I guess?” The words tasted like acid in her mouth, so painful she began to question if they were even true. Still, because Michael was looking at her, she pushed through. She’d lie until she was buried and dead if only he’d keep looking. “I wanted to be an explorer. I really liked snakes.”

“Snakes?!” Michael screeched, “Snakes! Fuck, I’m not getting you a snake. Jesus.”

Jenna forced out a small, sympathetic chuckle.

“I’ll take you to the zoo or something. You’re going into the reptile house alone, I don’t fucking care, but we can look at the zebras and stuff together, I guess.”

In her chest, nestled between her self confidence and her flickering admiration for her ‘friends’, she thought she felt something like hope spark.

“Really?” she whispered, pathetically desperate. Michael nodded determinedly.

“Fuck yeah.”

Jenna ducked her head to hide the glowing smile on her face. 

She decided, for the sake of the unfamiliar excitement growing inside of her, jumping and leaping in her lungs as it screamed for the first time in years, that didn’t need Jake’s shallow attention or Chloe’s condescending stares, just as long as this one person—this one nice person—could see her.

[iressails]

hi there!!! I’m your content creator secret santa 🤫🎄 how are you?? do you have anything you’re looking forward to this (holiday) season?

I’ve checked out your blog to see what kinds of things you enjoy, but I’d love to hear from you directly 😊

what are some of your favorite shows and movies? who are your favorite characters? ships? do you have any particularly favored music artists lately? maybe specific songs? maybe you even have some favorite books you’d like to share! what about favorite colors?

is there anything you absolutely DON’T want? lol just in case 😅

I hope you have a great rest of your week!

HII!!! I have been preparing for this question for a couple of days and right now immediately I've forgotten everything I know and like, and have ever liked.

[Pause to review my blog and get my thoughts in order]

i love red, green and orange. all the traffic lights baby!

Im looking forward to the holidays it's been... a year.

My ship (just the one rn *sob): I'm currently in Homicide: Life on the Street (1993 - 2000) hell. I love Frank Pembleton and Tim Bayliss with my whole heart, but a 30 year old show and 65 year old men are a bit of a hard ask even from a kind Santa. Bayliss was my first canon bi character on TV and I've not been right since.

Update: Earlier in the year I was heavily into Joanne Davidson/Kate Fleming from Line of Duty (2012 - 2021) until I was gratified by this fic: Bleed into me by Authorette and somehow never thought of it again.

(Yeah not sure about the non-canon (but one half queer in canon) unhappy ending cop duos being my shipping highlight of the year)

Movies: I love Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2001), Pride (2014), Barber (2023), Gattaca (1997), Romy and Michele's High School Reunion (1997), Trust (1990)

Shows: Bob and Rose (2001), Homicide ..(ahahaha) Trust me (2017), Borderliner / Grenseland (2017)

People: I think Rebecca Ferguson, Raul Esparza, Hunter Schaefer, Lesley Sharp, Ethan Hawke, Carla Gugino, Laura Main, Brain Molko, Emma D'Arcy, Vanessa Kirby, Katie McGrath, Caity Lotz, Toby Stephens, Adrienne Shelly, Alexander Skarsgard, Patricia Arquette, Emerald Fennell and David Harbour are just so pretty

Characters: Omar Little (The Wire 2002 - 2008), Catherine Cawood (Happy Valley 2014 - 2023), Christine Chapel (Star Trek Strange new Worlds 2022), Alex Vause (Orange is the new black 2013 - 2019), Nomi Marks (Sense8 2015 - 2017), Joan Holloway/Harris (Mad Men 2007 - 2015), and Deran Cody (Animal Kingdom 2016 - 2022), Charles (Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994), Carrie Mathison (Homeland 2011 - 2020), Patsy Mount (Call the Midwife)

As for hates... I dont like too many fancy fonts on gifs, or double exposures that make people look like they have two heads (I'm guilty of this, yes, yes). Not big on the music. My spotify wrapped this year was where I was reminded that I had just listened to Alanis Morissette, The Crystal Method, Bright Eyes and Placebo and things-to-run-to as I always do. Every year. It is an utter wasteland.

Thank you in advance I'm sure whatever you make will be wonderful. I love this exchange so much. Both ways giving and receiving.

[our-time-is-now]

September 15, 2019 (1): A distraction without moving? Show me…

(previous play)

You can find more information about the authors, translators, content warning and additional information about the plays in the pinned post on our blog.  

Attention! This play includes transgender topics. For more details see our interjection.

Sunday, 10:00 am:

WhatsApp, David/Matteo: David (02:54 am): Woke up half an hour ago and was good and had them bring me pain medication. It worked pretty quickly. Now I can’t fall back asleep… because I miss you and because I hate having to sleep on my back… and because I want you to lie next to me. Will you sing me a lullaby?

David (02:58 am): How nice that we both stick to the plan and that you apparently have your phone on mute… maybe tomorrow night, I can turn a little on my side if the drainages are out… I’ll put your shirt over my face now and imagine that you’re there with me. And then I’ll hopefully fall asleep. See you tomorrow, tesorino. Ti amo così tanto…

David (07:03 am): Why does everything at a hospital happen so early? Christine was already here and there’s already breakfast on the table, as well. I’m way too tired to already eat… I think I’ll sleep some more… and when I wake up again, then you’ll already be over very soon! I’m already really looking forward to seeing you! And a good morning to you ;-) Will you bring coffee again?

*really fell asleep again in the morning, but only for two hours* *then ate breakfast and was interrupted during eating by very early rounds by Dr. von Fratschen and his team, who has looked at the now closed wounds and who had a generally good impression* *was relieved and glad to hear that the drainages can be removed and that he’s allowed to go shower afterwards and that nurse Christine is supposed to put new bandaids on only after he showered* *has said his goodbyes to the doctor and then Christine removed the drainages* *found it pretty painful, but was distracted very well by her and was consoled by the prospect that one usually feels a lot better once the drainages are removed* *has promised to call once he’s finished with showering, but first finished his breakfast and texted Matteo*

WhatsApp, David/Matteo: David (09:32 am): At least I slept for 2 more hours… The drainages are gone! Was very ouch, but still: Yeah! And I can go have a shower! Yeah!

*had a shower after breakfast and put on clean clothes* *has realized again how much he hates the sanitary pad and has planned on asking Christine if he’s soon allowed to use smaller ones, because it isn’t bleeding as much as it did two days ago* *has also realized how difficult it is to wash his hair and to put on and take off tops, but finally manages it somehow* *has also looked at himself in the mirror for quite some time and taken another photo, because without the iodine and the imprints of the bandaids and bandages, his chest already looks pretty good and he’s so proud of it* *then called for Christine, who put new bandaids on his nipples, and at 10:15 he reached for his phone to see if Matteo’s already awake*

Matteo: *had trouble falling asleep and has put on David’s recordings again* *then eventually fell asleep at a little past 1 am, after all* *sleeps until shortly after 10 and is immediately annoyed when he looks at his phone* *but sees that he has several messages from David and smiles when he reads them* *records a voice messages, because he’s too lazy to type*

WhatsApp, Matteo/David: Matteo (voice message, 10:07 am): Oh, I gladly would have sung you a lullaby, but I stuck to the plan. I only fell asleep shortly after 1 and now I’m a little annoyed because it’s already past 10. I’m still in bed and in a minute I’ll first put on coffee and then hop in the shower. I hope that I’ll manage to catch the bus at 11 that goes directly there, then I’d be with you at a little after 12. And yeah, drainages are out, I’m happy! How was the shower? Ti amo, tesorino, see you later/soon.

*then basically jumps out of bed, puts the coffee on and then hops into the shower* *gets ready and refills the coffee* *only then notices a bag on the table with a post-it on it: “So that you won’t run out of the house without breakfast again. Your flatshare ;)”* *looks inside and sees two sandwiches and a banana* *wonders whose idea it was, but quickly packs the bag in his backpack together with the coffee and leaves the house so that he’ll catch the bus that leaves at 11* *texts another message to David while on the bus and sends a photo of the bag and the post-it along* *arrives at the hospital at shortly after 12 and is at David’s room ten minutes after 12* *this time knocks and waits for him to tell him to come in*

David: *was happy that Matteo replied after Christine has put fresh bandaids on, and while he’s on his way to the hospital, they wrote a few more texts back and forth until Christine came in with the laser and he had to put the phone down* *is done with lasering at quarter to 12 and waits for Matteo to finally arrive* *eventually got up and stood by the window to check if he can see the bus stop from inside - which he can’t* *but instead realized how freeing it is to be able to move without all his bags and drainages* *was just about to sit back down on the bed when he hears a knock* *smiles, because he can already guess that it’s Matteo, and calls loudly* Yeees? *sees him open the door, beams immediately and takes a few steps toward him* *waits for him to close the door, but then pulls him toward him and kisses him briefly* *says quietly* I missed you… *wraps his arms around his waist, slightly squeezes him close and takes a deep breath, to recharge his batteries at least a little bit*

Matteo: *quickly goes inside when he hears the “yes”* *is happy when he sees David out of bed* *immediately holds his arms out* Hey… *wraps his arms around him after he gets a kiss* So did I… *presses a kiss to his neck and holds him tight* *asks quietly* Everything okay?

David: *is pretty happy that today, Matteo isn’t worried about hugging him back, and enjoys the feeling of being close to him* *smiles slightly when he feels the kiss on his neck and humms in agreement when he hears Matteo’s question* *murmurs quietly* It is now… and what about you? *also presses a tender kiss to his neck and then pulls away slightly to look at him* *pulls a hand away from his back and puts it on his cheek* *can feel that this movement doesn’t hurt as much as washing his hair or changing his top and is pretty relieved about that* *tenderly strokes over Matteo’s cheek, looks at him and thinks how nice it is that he’s here* *does this for a few seconds before he tilts his head with a slight smirk and asks quietly* Coffee?

Matteo: *also hummms in agreement* Same… *smiles immediately when he pulls away and looks at him* *leans a little into his hand* *then laughs at his question and nods* Yep. *quickly kisses him again and then takes his backpack off after he pulls away* *pulls the bag with the sandwiches out first and puts it onto the bed, and and then pulls the coffee out and hands it to him* Should still be pretty hot, I just made it…

David: *grins when Matteo laughs and then watches him unpack the coffee* *accepts it and sighs quietly* Thanks… *pours some of it into his mug from this morning and some for Matteo in the mug from the thermos and then pushes himself back onto the bed* *feels some pain again while doing so due to having to use his abdominal muscles, and is relieved when he finally sits the way he wants to, which is with his back leant against the wall* *then realizes that he forgot the coffee on the nightstand and laughs and groans* Oh man… could you…? *points at the mug and smiles gratefully when Matteo hands it to him* *pushes the breakfast bag aside and then pats on the free spot next to him in invitation* Breakfast, Florenzi… your stomach has already called for help on the bus… telepathically and so on… *grins slightly and then blows into his coffee*

Matteo: *watches him as he pushes himself into position on the bed and would really love to help him* *is therefore very glad when he can at least hand him the mug* *then grabs the bag and pushes himself onto the bed next to him* It’s really very useful that you have such a connection to my stomach… so from now on, I only have to ask you i I’m hungry. *laughs slightly and opens the bag* *holds it out to him after he took out a bread roll* Bread roll?

David: *grins broadly at Matteo’s words and says* I do hope that eventually you’ll hear your stomach again yourself once I’m better and that it won’t be all about me anymore… but until then I’ll gladly take over that task. *watches happily as he takes a bread roll from the bag, but then looks skeptical when he holds the bag out to him* *shakes his head and makes a negating sound* /I/ had breakfast… and the way I know this place there’ll be lunch very soon… *smiles when he takes a bite off the bread roll and realizes that he’s really also a little hungry* *sighs quietly and says* Okay… one bite… *but holds his hand out for Matteo’s bread roll, because he really only wants to take one bite* *reaches for his phone after he took a bite and swallowed it, and shows Matteo the photo that he took of himself in the mirror earlier* Look… without iodine and bandaid residue… now it only has to heal…

Matteo: *looks a little reproachful but lovingly at his words* It’s always about you… *but then grins slightly* But yes, I know what you mean… and okay… *then pfffs slightly* Yes, 5 hours or so ago… *then laughs when he wants to take a bite, after all, and holds his bread roll out to him* *reaches for his mug on the nightstand and takes a sip, but finds it still too hot and puts it back* *then looks at David’s phone* Whoa, cool, that already looks much better! *then hears a knock and sees a nurse that he doesn’t know yet come in: “Hello, Mister Schreibner… oh you already have a visitor?”*

David: *also looks at the photo again after he shows it to Matteo and smiles to himself* *looks up when there’s a knock and recognizes a nurse who has already been present during rounds this morning* *isn’t sure anymore if she introduced herself, but if she did, then he forgot her name* *still smiles slightly and nods* Yes, that’s Matteo, my boyfriend… *sees the nurse smile: “Your boyfriend, who brings his own food to not eat up your food - very laudable!”* *grins slightly and watches the nurse put his lunch down on the nightstand: “Enjoy your meal!” and with a look at Matteo: “And you, too!”* *grins slightly* Thanks! *but then remembers something* I have a question: This afternoon, there will be a few friends of ours visiting. Would it be possible to get a few more chairs from somewhere? *sees her think and then ask: “How many do you need?”* *doesn’t really want to say eight and therefore asks* How many do you have? *sees her think again: “A little further down the hallway there’s a small common room… it’s not really used that much. I’m sure you could steal three or four chairs from there…”* *smiles* Yes, great! Thank you! *sees her looking at him sternly: “But you do know that you’re not allowed to carry them, don’t you?”* *laughs quietly and nods* Yes, I know, don’t worry… and we’ll also bring them back later…

Matteo: *grins when the nurse praises him* That’s me… *nods again when she tells him to enjoy his food* Thanks, I will… *then listens to the conversation and adds* Don’t worry, we’ll all make sure that he won’t lift a finger… *sees her smile and nod slightly: “Okay… see you later then…”* *sees her leave the room again and takes another bite from his bread roll* *says with his mouth half full* We could also go downstairs later if it gets too full… well, if you’re up to it…

David: *thinks that - even if he wanted to - he wouldn’t even be close to able to lift a chair, but nods at Matteo’s words* *takes a big sip of coffee after the nurse has left the room, and then looks at Matteo when he hears his words* *nods* True… yes… if it really gets too full in here, then gladly. Or if anyone wants to drink something or whatever… *then glances at his lunch and the mug in his hand and sighs quietly, because right now it seems impossible to him to scoot all the way to the edge of the bed so that he can eat, because he doesn’t know where to put the mug* *holds it out to Matteo and asks a little desperately* Could you please hold it again? *then scoots over a little and tries to strain his abdominal muscles as little as possible* *is relieved when he also sees new pain medication on the tray, but first takes the coffee back from Matteo so that he can continue eating* *then lifts the lid off his food and sees soup and bread* *reaches for the spoon and tells him* By the way, my mother texted me… she’ll be here around 1… and Laura will pick her up here around 5… so you’ll probably see her, as well… *starts eating and realizes that he’s a little nervous about her visit* *hopes that it won’t be weird somehow*

Matteo: *nods* Yes, we’ll just see… whatever you feel like and whatever the mood is like… *then takes the mug off David, of course* Why don’t you pull the nightstand closer… hang on… *waits for David to take the mug back and then pulls the nightstand around so that it’s comfortably over David* *then hears him say when his mother will be there* Oh, that’s very fitting, then… *looks at him* Are you nervous about it?

David: *smiles when Matteo moves the nightstand around for him so that he can reach the food better* Thanks… *doesn’t know if he would have been able to manage this by himself yet, but is going to test it later* *but currently feels like he wouldn’t even be able to hold a bottle of coke for a longer period of time* *starts eating his soup when he hears Matteo’s question* *thinks briefly and then admits* I am a little bit… *sighs quietly* I don’t know… it really has been a while since I had a normal relationship with my mother… okay, the messages and the phone calls were okay… pretty good, actually… but I just know that I’m still skeptical… and that somehow, I’m still waiting on something to happen again… *then laughs quietly* What am I supposed to talk about with her alone for four hours?

Matteo: *has finished his first bread roll and wipes the crumbs off the bed* *nods slightly when he talks about his mother* I can understand that… but hey, if you have to, then you’ll just tell her about Italy… and about Venice, you can talk about that a lot, right?

David: *nods when he says that he should tell her about Italy* Hmm… maybe I’ll make a folder tomorrow morning with photos to show her… then she can look at photos… and then I can use this to tell her a little about it… and she can tell me about her holiday… *has finished half of the soup and almost the entire bread roll and reaches for the pain pill* *flushes it down with water and then continues eating* *after lunch he feels like he maybe should lie down again for a little while to relax his back and abdominal muscles before the others are coming later, and uses the moment when Matteo goes to the trash can to get rid of the bread roll bag to lie back down on the bed* *scoots over to the wall, smiles and then pats on the space next to him in invitation*

Matteo: *nods vigorously* Yes, that’s a plan… looking at photos always takes a lot of time… *then takes the bag to the trash can after he ate and smiles slightly when David is more lying down again than sitting up* *pushes the nightstand away from the table and then lies down next to David very carefully* That okay?

David: *smiles happily when Matteo really lies down next to him, but immediately thinks that he’s too far away* *humms in agreement at his question* *then grins slightly* You can come even closer… you won’t break anything or whatever… *would love to take his arm and push it under his head, but already knows that he can’t reach out and stretch that far* *turns his head toward him and curses the fact that he can’t turn on his side yet* *smiles at him desperately and pleadingly and says quietly* Come on, I’m yearning for you…

Matteo: *looks at him when he says that he can come even closer* *scoots a centimeter closer, but is still careful* *then sees his look and hears his words and says quietly* Me, too… *scoots even closer and pushes his right arm under David’s head* That alright? *presses a light kiss on his head*

David: *is glad that it doesn’t stay one centimeter and that Matteo finally really scoots quite a bit closer to him* *lifts his head a little when he pushes an arm under it and smiles at Matteo’s question* *humms in agreement* *then reaches over himself and halfway across Matteo with his right hand to search for his left hand and pull him a little closer still* *can feel some pain in his belly again due to the movement, but ignores it and places Matteo’s hand between the two sources of pain on his belly and entwines their fingers* *then relaxes again and sighs quietly* *then murmurs* It works… well… better than nothing, right?

Matteo: *entwines their fingers when David reaches for his hand, but is careful when David puts it down onto his belly* *looks at him a little skeptically at his words* Mhm… better than nothing… *runs his thumb over David’s hand and runs his other hand through David’s hair* But if it gets uncomfortable then you’ll tell me, right?

David: *leans his head against Matteo’s hand and closes his eyes when he starts to card through his hair* *would also love to be a little more active, to cuddle close to him, run a hand through his hair, to turn onto his side and kiss him, and realizes that the fact that none of this is possible right now makes him pretty unhappy* *but tries to remember that it will only be a few days and that it will get better after that and that it’s worth it to wait for a couple of days if it means that he can finally be a little bit more himself* *then hears Matteo’s words and has to grin slightly, because he’s making sure again even though he already promised him countless times that he’ll tell him when something gets too much or if it hurts* *humms in agreement, opens his eyes again and turns his head toward him* You know what would distract me pretty well from possible pain that might occur if I move too much? *grins a little and wiggles his eyebrows*

Matteo: *enjoys the closeness to David and really hopes that it isn’t uncomfortable for him, and that he definitely positions himself in a way it’s good for him* *also turns his head a little when David looks at him* *smiles slightly and then also wiggles his eyebrows* Hmmm, noooo… no idea… distraction without moving? Show me… *then grins a little wider and slowly gets closer to his face*

David: *gives him a small secretary’s-office-look when he pretends to not know what might distract him, and then laughs quietly for only a second, because laughing hurts his belly, when he says that he should show him* *groans desperately* I’d love to… but I can’t move… *but then sees him grin and come toward his face and also moves toward him a tiny bit* *releases their hands to run it through his hair at least briefly, and then closes his eyes when they finally kiss* *can’t leave his hand in his hair for much longer because his chest hurts, and lowers it again* *enjoys it very much to be a little closer to him and looks at him lovingly when they pull away from the kiss* *whispers quietly* I love you very much…

Matteo: *grins slightly* Do I have to do all the work? *closes his eyes when David runs a hand through his hair* *enjoys that very much* *then kisses him tenderly and automatically runs a hand through his hair, as well* *also looks at him lovingly and can feel this flutter of love in his stomach again* I also love you pretty very much above all… *tenderly kisses him again*

David: *when he hears his question murmurs* I’m afraid over the next few weeks you’ll have to… *before they finally kiss* *sees Matteo’s smile when he hears his words after the kiss and thinks how much he loves this sight* *then hears his reply and can feel his heart skip a beat, but still has to grin a little because Matteo naturally has to outdo him like that* *then gets kissed again and at first considers if he can somehow top his words, but then thinks that it doesn’t really matter and that Matteo knows how much he loves him and that it’s much nicer to simply concentrate on the kiss* *they make out for quite some time on the bed and he keeps wishing to be even closer to Matteo and tries to pull him closer or scoot closer to him several times* *but realizes each time that it isn’t really possible without pain and eventually stops trying, because he can see that Matteo is very well aware of the fact that he’s in pain and doesn’t want him to worry* *they get “interrupted” by a nurse at a quarter to two, who wants to pick up the tray from lunch, and they are actually quite grateful for the interruption, because they have completely lost track of time and because they are finally checking the time* *decides to go to the toilet again and to freshen up a little before the others arrive*

(next play)

[thephantomessoftheopera]

Notes on Gaston Leroux‘s „The Phantom of the Opera“ - Epilogue

<< Previous chapter “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known”

-Charles Dickens, “A Tale of Two Cities”

As we are coming to the end of the story, Leroux ties up a few more loose ends in the epilogue.

As for Raoul and Christine, their possible happy ending is only implied by what Erik told the Persian - that they had “taken a northbound train” and were planning to get married in secret. They have disappeared from the world, and Christine never appeared again on stage anywhere. According to Leroux, they might have finally settled in Norway together with Mama Valerius. At first, I thought Leroux might have been confusing Sweden and Norway, but when I did a little research on the name „Daae“, it turns out that the name is actually most prevalent in Norway, with almost no occurrences in Sweden. It is also implied that even if they took that “northbound” train before, Christine took a train back to Paris a few weeks later to return to Erik, because she had the wedding ring on her when she left, and it was finally found on Erik‘s finger.

As Philippe‘s death was deemed to be the consequence of the fight between the two brothers over Raoul’s supposed engagement to Christine, Raoul was a murder suspect - but as his previous testimony had already made him appear a lunatic in the eyes of the Commissary, Philippe‘s death was ultimately pronounced accidental. However, as Parisian society had taken less than kindly to the news of the engagement, I think that the couple would have had a very difficult standing if they had officially married and assumed the now vacant titles of the Count and Countess de Chagny. It is therefore likely that Raoul, having officially disappeared, never claimed his titles and inheritance, and chose the more simple lifestyle that Christine was accustomed to. Leroux concludes the story of Raoul and Christine with the statement that one day, he too might „hear the solitary echoes of the Northland repeat the singing of the woman who knew the Angel of Music''. In the epilogue, the boundaries between the „false“ and the „real“ Angel of Music become blurred, as Leroux repeatedly speaks of Erik as the “Angel of Music” - indicating that maybe, just maybe, Erik truly was the Angel of Music.

After following up on Raoul and Christine, Leroux relates how he obtained proof of Erik‘s existence from the Persian, mostly through the letters written by Christine that Erik had sent to him, but also through the testimonies of Meg Giry and La Sorelli. He supposedly placed all the proof he had gathered in the archives of the Paris Opera.

He also obtained the testimony of M. Poligny, the previous manager of the Opera. The „Opera Ghost“ affair was the final straw that made him resign his post, which again indicates that Erik‘s reign as „O.G.“ was rather short and caused by Erik falling in love (since he had been living in the Opera House presumably since the early 1870s). He also quotes from the fictional „Memoirs of a Manager“ by Armand Moncharmin, where Moncharmin relates that a few days after Christine‘s abduction, Erik returned all of the forty thousand francs he had extracted to the managers, no longer having any need for the money as he had given up his plan to marry Christine. The mystery of the safety-pin is also finally resolved, as Leroux was supposedly able to locate a small trapdoor in the floor of the managers’ office, through which a dexterous magician like Erik could easily have reached up and retrieved the envelope from Richard‘s coattail pocket as it was hanging down from his chair.

Leroux also notes that the marble pillar next to Box 5 sounds hollow and would offer ample space for Erik to hide inside it. According to Gérard Fontaine’s research, the pillars being hollow applies to all the pillars in the auditorium of the Palais Garnier. Whether that proves or disproves anything is up to you... Leroux’s plan of having the lake drained in order to obtain the ultimate proof of Erik‘s existence - finding the entrance to the house by the lake - did not go through, but Leroux still sustains his hope of one day finding the score of „Don Juan Triumphant“ there (that is, if Christine had not taken it with her when she came to bury him).

Leroux then gives a summary of Erik’s life according to the Persian. Erik was born near Rouen in France and ran away from his parents as a young boy, as they were afraid and horrified by how he looked. After being exhibited as a “living corpse” at fairs, he became a singing sensation and garnered a reputation that reached as far as Persia. The daroga of Mazenderan was sent to bring Erik to Persia as entertainment for the “little sultana”. Erik, who also worked there as an assassin, is described here as amoral, “not knowing the difference between right and wrong”. Even though he does not have an evil heart, his life up until this point has left him completely without a moral compass of any kind.

After building an ingenious palace for the shah, Erik’s execution was ordered so that he could not divulge its secrets to anyone. The daroga was supposed to carry it out, but as he owed Erik favours (and was the one who brough Erik to Persia in the first place), he helped him escape instead. He was punished for this and went into exile to Paris. Erik took a detour to Asia Minor and Constantinople before he ended up in Paris as well. It is also mentioned that Erik could make lifelike automata, which is reflected in the musical in the form of the monkey music box and also the “mirror bride”, a physical representation of Erik’s dream of a loving wife.

Once in Paris, Erik decided that he finally wanted to live a normal life, and placed a successful bid to work as a contractor on the Opera House. Wishing to hide his face from the world forever, he built his comfortable home into the foundations of the Opera. Erik’s plan to live out the rest of his life in peaceful tranquillity went well - until he crossed paths with Christine Daae and lost his heart to her completely. And the rest is history…

Leroux here gives his own view of Erik: “He had a heart great enough to hold the empire of the world, and in the end he had to be content with a cellar.” With a normal face, Erik, with his brilliant mind and extraordinary talents, could have had the world at his feet. And even though no one had ever loved him, he still had a heart capable of feeling deep, pure love, which is pretty remarkable. His beautiful voice is a reflection of the beauty he carries inside his soul - which was sadly eclipsed by his ugliness, which did not allow him to live “like everyone else”. The great tragedy of his life was his face, which kept others from treating him as a human being and recognizing his full potential. He is therefore clearly worthy of pity, instead of being cursed and condemned as evil.

Leroux had already mentioned in the Prologue that he believed the skeleton found in the cellars of the Opera was Erik’s. Now he finally reveals why he was so certain of that: because Erik’s skeleton wore the gold wedding ring on his finger, which Leroux believes Christine had placed there. Even though Erik had set her free and given her the ring, she later came back to him, and this time it was certainly not out of terror. With Erik dead, none of his threats would hold any more sway over her - and yet, she still returned to him to keep her promise. She not only buried him with the wedding ring, but she slipped it onto his finger, ultimately fulfilling her promise to accept him as her husband. In a sense, she buried him with her love, and that is truly a bittersweet and beautiful ending. After everything he had to endure, Erik’s life ends with a kiss and a ring on his finger, put there by the woman he loved more than his own life, and with Leroux praying for his salvation. That may not be a traditional happy ending, but it‘s very powerful. And it’s definitely not a villain’s ending.

As „Faust“ is the most strongly referenced work in „Phantom“, it is also worth comparing how the endings are different. In the final act of Gounod‘s opera, Faust and Marguerite first swear their love to each other, but when Marguerite sees Mephistopheles and realizes who Faust really is, she turns away from him and chooses death instead, while Faust is dragged into the fires of hell. Her famous last words to him are „You horrify me!“ In „Phantom“, the progression is almost the other way round - Christine is horrified at first, but then accepts Erik and chooses life instead of death.

It should also be noted that the ending in the novel is so vague that it also allows a lot of room for the reader’s imagination. Was Erik really dead when Christine returned? He himself was announcing his death, so it would not even be so very unlikely. But as this is Leroux’s story, the official reading would of course be how he himself imagined the ending: Erik dying and Christine coming back to bury him. This might be my favourite line from the novel:

“The skeleton lay near the little fountain, where the Angel of Music first held the unconscious Christine Daae in his trembling arms after taking her into the cellars of the Opera.”

As if the return of the ring was not enough poetic closure, he also asked to be buried in the very spot where he held the love of his life for the first time...

Symbolism and Metaphors

Now that we have concluded the epilogue, I would like to add a few more notes on the general themes which are present throughout the novel and still influence how we feel about it today.

To understand the extent of symbolism employed in  „The Phantom of the Opera“, it is necessary to understand the cultural mindset and environment in which it was written. At the turn of the century, the arts (and sciences, as evidenced by the slowly emerging works of Sigmund Freud) were rather obsessed with the fateful connection between Eros and Thanatos - love as the life-bringing force, and death as the destructive force. Both were often seen as intertwined and mirrored in the other.

Erik is the personification of Eros and Thanatos. He unites both forces in him to a degree unparalleled by any other character in the story. The death symbolism that is also clearly reflected in how he is described, would be both perceived as horrifying - and yet not without a strangely seductive fascination inherent in it. Death is intricately tied to darker feelings of passion and desire.The “Eros” and the “Thanatos” part of his character are intertwined, but his character also oscillates between the two sides in the course of the story.

Music in „Phantom“ also serves as a metaphor for romantic love, not only in the spiritual but also in the physical sense, as it is connotated with “passion”, “fire”, “ecstasy” and “rapture” throughout the story. Erik’s teaching awakens “an ardent, voracious and sublime life” in Christine, symbolizing the burgeoning romantic feelings in the young woman. She is terrified with the changes going on in her, which is also in line with how „Eros“ was originally viewed: as a frightening loss of control. Erik says in “Apollo’s Lyre” that “some music is so formidable that it consumes everyone who approaches it”, and Christine states that “Music has the power to abolish everything in the outside world except its sounds, which go straight to the heart”. In both sentences, the word “music” can easily be replaced with “love” - especially in Christine’s example, it would be the musical equivalent of “love is blind”.

Like in other (gothic) romances - “Wuthering Heights” being perhaps the prime example - the two rivals in the principal love triangle represent two very different types of love: one is intense and passionate, but also consuming, terrifying and potentially destructive, and the other is safer, but also somewhat chaste and lifeless. Erik and Raoul each represent one of the two extremes. This contrast is exemplified in the scene at the Masked Ball: Raoul wears white, the colour of innocence, while Erik wears red, the colour of passion, but also of danger and blood.

It is suggested in the novel that Erik and Christine were chained together by fate (“La destinée m’enchaîne à toi sans retour”), and I believe they were destined to save each other. Erik saved Christine from her grief in the wake of her father’s death and brought her back to life, and Christine saved his soul by being the first person in his life to accept him and grant him true happiness. „Phantom“ may be a tragic love story, but it is also a hopeful one, as love proves stronger than death. Christine’s choice, Erik‘s sacrifice and the skeleton’s wedding ring are all symbols of love triumphing over death.

[another-rational-deception]

Class 1-A as “Be More Chill” Cast Members

Hey y’all :,) I know it’s been a while im sorry. let me give little rundown of everything fast: first of all i marched in the 2022 Rose Parade in Pasadena, California, i got a job, im auditioning to be a section captian for this upcoming marching season, im playing/learning 5 instruments at once, my parents threatened to k!ll my cats, a few traumatic things happened to me in California, been trying to keep my grades up… i think that’s most of it. So, a lot has happened since august🥲 ill try to post every now and then, im so sorry LMFAO

ANYWAY im making these headcanons bc im bored, and im playing in the pit band for the school musical which happens to be Be More Chill and thought this would be interesting :) this is which parts they would all get if they all auditions, or just parts I think fit them well

D*rk content blogs, do not interact with me at all.

Main Cast

Sero gets lead role of Jeremy Heere. Ultimately he was the one who was able to nail the nerdy, awkward vibe Jeremy has the most while also having the voice to do those big parts (Ex. Ending “survive” chord from “More Than Survive”). He’s also really good at getting really excited during “Two Player Game”. Ojiro would have gotten Jeremy but he couldn’t get over Jeremy’s opening line or all of the scenes with Brooke, he couldn’t do it. He felt very wrong and uncomfy thinking abt it😭

Iida is the squip. I was going to say Momo, but the squip is supposed to look like Keanu Reeves and i don’t quite think Momo is giving Keanu💀 Iida’s normal personality just fits the Squip’s “matter of fact” snarky quips. He’s good at staying serious, it’s almost scary how good at the Squip he is.

Koda would have been an AMAZING Michael Mell if he would have tried out for the part. He has the voice of an angel and he just would have been great at Michael’s part specifically. Unfortunately he didn’t audition for any role and Kaminari got the role of Michael, and he does phenomenal. The class thinks he’s having an actual panic attack when he performs “Michael In The Bathroom” and they freak out

Funny enough, Bakugou Rich Goranski. The class was surprised to find out that Bakugou was going to audition, and even more surprised when he got Rich. No one thought he would suck up his own pride enough to be able to play a geek like Rich but he did it and he actually did pretty good

Speaking of Rich, Kirishima would make a great Jake. He would be great at Jake’s singing parts, and could absolutely pull off Jake’s general attitude, the rich douche that sucks at pretending to be humble.

Uraraka gets Christine. It was really close between her and Hagakure, but ultimately Hagakure was given the role of Brooke, she was able to hit those really high notes easier and Brooke’s role made Uraraka short circuit thinking about it.

Momo gets Chloe and Mina gets Jenna. Jenna fits Mina perfectly, Mina would be a lier if she claimed she didn’t LOVE gossip. Also she thinks Jenna’s “woah” during “Smartphone Hour (Rich set a Fire)” is the funniest thing and she jumped at the chance to do it. Momo was kind of pushed to audition in the first place and wound up getting Chloe. She was surprised, but she was committed to the role and did incredible.

Sato is Jeremy’s dad and Shoji is Mr. Reyes. I really can’t explain Sato, but Shōji just likes that all he really has to do is eat a hot pocket every now and then. He’s content.

Everyone else plays the students of Middleborough High and mall shoppers. Aoyama and Mineta are disappointed they didn’t get lead roles, but honestly everyone else is just happy to be there.

[emptymasks]

Raoul de Chagny x Trans Man/Masc Reader

Hello I have the Raoul de Chagny x Trans Masc Reader headcannons that no one ordered? Just kidding, I ordered them. From myself. For myself. Because this last week has been dysphoria hell and then, as I often do, I was thinking about Phantom and I was thinking about being lucky enough to see Phantom and how cute Rhys Whitfield was/is as Raoul and then I was remembering that I really like Raoul. I like Erik too. But while I see a lot of Christine shipping content, outside of the ships there's a lot of Erik solo content but not a lot of Raoul solo content. Last year I randomly about this for a little while and was like yeah Raoul is cute, but now I'm full on like no wait Raoul would be the most supportive partner okay.

This is comfort for myself as a trans man and if you have the urge to interact with this post just to talk about how much you personally hate Raoul or don't think he'd act like this please kindly just scroll past this post instead as Raoul isn't real so you have nothing to be upset about other than a trans person being happy.

He would be so over-concerned when you wear your binder. He'd be checking in with you all day, asking how your chest felt, how your back felt. He might even keep a timer to go off when it's been 8-10 hours (this time may vary depending on what binder company you use). And it might get annoyed and feel patronizing because maybe you've been wearing binders longer than he's really known about them and you know what you're doing and how to bind safely, but he only means well.

Absolutely would spoil you, and wouldn't even realise he was doing it half the time. He'd love to buy you things that make you happy whether it's clothes or food or stuffed animals or anime figures or Sylvanian Families, and he'd love to see you enjoying them. He just sometimes doesn't realise what money is like for non-rich people and if your £10 gloves got a hole in them he'd go and buy you a new pair and they'd be really nice but also £500 and he'd just look confused "Isn't that what gloves normally cost? I tried to get a less expensive pair?". Raoul 'It's one banana, Michael. What could it cost, $10?'de Chagny. On the plus side, that $300 packer you wanted? No issue. If you want top surgery? No issue.

If you did get surgery he would be your self-appointment nurse way past the time when you need to take things super easy. You're just precious and he wants to make sure you know you're well loved.

But whether you have surgery or not, whether you want surgery or not, whether you like wearing binders or not, this man is going to brag to everyone about how you're the best boyfriend. He's never going to see you as any less of a man or any less trans because of your body. And yes he will be so proud of you and want to show you off to every one he knows. He's your number 1 fan.

You have an alt style of fashion? He thinks that's cool! He'd dress pretty 'normal' but would absolutely let you dress him up and put make-up on him. He might even like it! He'd definitely like how some eyeline and subtle make-up looks on him and he never expected that he would. Perhaps you'll slowly convince him to try bolder things.

[witchoflegends]

Going back and rewatching Strange’s episode of What If... just so that I can talk about palmerstrange. So below is all my thoughts and feelings about everything palmerstrange related in the episode. So spoilers under the cut. It did get long, so fair warning. Since I touch on practically every palmerstrange moment in the episode.

I love that all Stephen had to do to get Christine to come to his speaking engagement was to promise her crème brulee. Then he’s got that sly comment about how he thinks they can do better than that. I love it.

The way Christine wants to hear Stephen’s speech before anyone else does. How she wants him to just go at it in a way that she knows he normally would. Just for the fun of it. And the way he actually considers it. Even telling her in one of the loops that he will go full out and run up to the podium like a reality tv show contestant. Even if he doesn’t know what that exactly entails. He’ll do anything for Christine. As long as it makes her happy, and as long as she is by his side.

Oh, then there’s Christine saying he’s done something remarkable, and Stephen’s immediate response is, “I would say the same about you.” That just makes me squeal. Cause he sees her as remarkable, and anytime she compliments him, he’s turning it back on her. She’s all he can think about when she’s around.

Also, all the times we saw Stephen compliment Christine in that dress of hers? How he pushed aside her own compliment of him to tell her how stunning she looked. Even though he was wearing an Armani suit. All he cared about was how pretty she looked. How the next time he sees her after he starts trying to get her back, his heart flutters. Then says he might have had a mild cardiac event upon seeing her. So cute. Ugh, and then he tells her that he’ll give her the world.

As well as how in the first car drive, Stephen says “We’re okay. You’re okay” after the oncoming car scare. And he puts his hand on her shoulder to comfort her in that moment. He was so concerned about her. His main concern was her. It’s always been her, and I cry. Which is what makes it even more heartbreaking the next moment when they actually do crash.

“In this universe, Stephen Strange didn’t loose his hands, but his heart.” The fact that Christine is seen as his heart just kills me. Also, Stephen’s face and posture at her funeral. He is absolutely broken and you can’t tell me otherwise.

Okay, but can we talk about the scene where Christine is wearing Stephen’s shirt. Her laugh and saying that the shirt of his that she’s wearing is now her favorite. How happy and playful Stephen sounds when he reaches out to her and says he’s going to have to take it back. Only for her to respond equally as playful. Yes please. I love that soft little moment. They’re so cute together.

THE HAND HOLDING DURING THE SECOND CAR RIDE!

“You’re being delightful. I must owe a muffin basket for this personality shift.” “Maybe you make me happy.” Ugh. Of course she makes you happy, Stephen. How could she not?

All the different options that Stephen when through to save her. Even so far as to try and separate himself from her and stand her up. Only for her to die when he wasn’t there. Then there’s the death where she dies in the middle of them dancing. Absolutely heartbreaking. All of it.

Also, there’s the fact that when Stephen tried to convince Christine that they should stay in, she was focused on him. He was supposed to be getting an award, and she wanted to make sure he was recognized for it. That he was happy, and getting what he deserved. She cares about him just as much as he cares about her.

How happy he gets just being around her, and the little smile he gets on his face anytime she’s even remotely happy. Then there’s how broken and tired he looks at the bar after he stood her up. I have so many emotions about this episode.

“Aren’t we allowed to be happy?” Apparently not, Stephen. Apparently not.

Stephen’s almost defeated, “I only want you. You’re the only thing that matters,” when Christine is asking if he’s okay, and if he wanted to talk. As well as the way he remembers her right before he cries out to the heavens in agony.

Stephen Strange is so stubborn. Especially when he can’t get what he wants, and all he wants is Christine. So he’ll do anything to get her back, and I think that’s the most heartbreaking thing of all. As well as the fact that the “normal” him saw that he couldn’t/wasn’t able to save Christine and how devastating it must have been to come to that realization.

“Is she worth the pain?” “Every moment of it.” Ugh. I can’t. If only you would listen to the people giving you warnings after warnings, Strange. But you were already too far gone the moment you decided to try and bring Christine back. Such devotion.

It must have broken “normal” Stephen’s heart not to try and save Christine, but to try to keep her dead. Cause he immediately knew the moment that the Ancient One was talking about when she was explaining what evil Strange was planning to do. He had thought about it just as much as evil Strange. Yet he was never able to go through with putting the timeline in danger. So he allowed himself to be broken hearted for the sake of his reality. Also, how the Ancient one had to remind normal Stephen that he couldn’t save Christine. Cause I feel like he regularly needs reminders.

“But do you want to stop him? Weren’t you in love with this Christine?” “I think I have to.” Like I said, him choosing the fate of his reality over his own heartbreak and pain. That is the Stephen that Christine loved. The one that cares about people and is able to put their needs above his own selfish wants.

Then there’s the whole fight between the Stephens and evil Stephen trying to convince normal Stephen to save Christine. Two versions of the same man that loved the same woman. One driven practically to madness trying to bring her back, and the other trying to move on and stop him. Christine would have wanted Stephen to move on.

“They wouldn’t understand. They never knew her. We knew her. We loved her.” As he was the only one that ever loved her. Meanwhile, he things normal Stephen is lying to him when he says the world is breaking. Just because he refuses to see the truth, and the truth would cause him and his emotions to come crashing down.

Evil Stephen basically calling normal Stephen a coward because he hadn’t tried going back. Hadn’t spent centuries sacrificing everything for Christine. Ugh. I love the devotion of a villain. 

My heart breaks at normal Stephen’s “and now can you save her?” cause I can tell a part of him was hopeful that he could. Hopeful that maybe they could have everything they wanted, but then he realized that wasn’t the case when evil Stephen grabbed him.

Honestly, normal Stephen is the Stephen that Christine would love. In my opinion anyway. Evil Stephen saying yet again that the Ancient One doesn’t understand and they love her. Then normal Stephen saying that what he’s doing isn’t love. It’s something that I think Christine would absolutely say. Choosing the greater good over any one person. Over herself.

Oh, and don’t even get me started on the illusion that evil Strange makes normal Strange see. Christine wearing his shirt. Her telling him she loves him, and his smile as her hand covers his cheek and his hand covers hers. How they can be together again, and he honestly looks so content and relaxed in that moment. God how he missed her. I was so hoping to hear him say that he loved her back before he started coming to his senses.

Then there’s evil Stephen succeeding. Getting Christine back, but she’s terrified of the monster he is, and what’s happening around them. The world crumbling and falling apart until it’s only Stephen and Christine left. Him desperately trying to stop the world falling apart. Only for her to die in his arms anyway. Leaving him trapped in his own prison. It’s so heartbreaking, and I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover.

That’s it. That’s my palmerstrange rant brought to you by What If...

[helaintoloki]

Three’s Company

pairing: Ben Hargreeves x reader

warnings: tons of fluff, dad!ben

a/n: i had two requests for this prompt as well as for some dad!ben content so i combined them together. also his daughter is named after the french feminist renaissance author & poet Christine de Pizan bc i feel like he’d name his child after someone important in literature

* #10: building gingerbread houses // taken from this prompt list

The sound of Christmas music drifts through the hallways of your home accompanied by the smell of freshly baked gingerbread as you delicately cut the slices into your desired shapes, looking towards the opened Pinterest app on your phone every now and then to reassure that you’re properly following the directions. It’s your first time using such a recipe and you want to make sure you do it just right, otherwise a whole afternoon’s worth of work will be wasted. Sitting across the way from you with a glass of milk and a plate of discarded pieces of reject cookies is your four year old daughter Christine, her gaze permanently glued to the window as she waits for the arrival of her father. Ben had promised a night of family fun, and the young girl intended to make sure he saw it through.

“When’s daddy coming home?” She asks with a purse of her lips, prompting a smile from you as the little face she makes is the exact same one that your husband makes (a face reserved mostly for his brothers).

“Any minute now,” you reassure her, “he went with Uncle Diego to help grandma pick out a Christmas tree.”

“Is Uncle Diego coming?” Christine asks, nearly bouncing out of her seat with excitement.

“Not today,” you say only for her to deflate with a frown, “but he’s coming over on Christmas to spend the day with us, and he’s bringing Lila.”

Christine’s head peeks up curiously at the mention of her Uncle’s new girlfriend, but she doesn’t say anything other than, “I like Lila. She’s pretty.”

“She certainly is,” you nod in agreement, deciding to leave out the part where you mention that she also packs a pretty hard punch. Your jaw still aches when you think about your first encounter with the woman, but you were a firm believer in second chances, so you decide to let bygones be bygones.

The sound of keys jingling in the doorway pulls both of your gazes towards the living room door where Ben emerges, fresh snow coating his jacket and dropping onto the welcome mat below him as he kicks off his shoes with a tired groan. However, the sight of Christine scrambling down from her seat and rushing towards him quickly brings a smile to his face as he crouches down and catches her in his arms.

“Hey, kiddo!” He exclaims, pressing dozens of kisses to the crown of her head and beaming with pride at the giggles the act elicits from her. “Gosh, you smell like gingerbread.”

“Mommy let me eat the leftovers,” she boasts proudly, draping her arms around her father’s neck as he carries her back into the kitchen.

“Is that so?” He asks with an amused smile, his eyes softening when he reaches you at the counter. “Well, hello my gorgeous wife.”

“Hello handsome husband,” you reply with a giggle, smiling as he captures your lips in a sweetly chaste kiss. You’ve been married for six years, but you’ve never really quite moved out of the honeymoon phase— not that you’re complaining. “How was it?”

“It was good. Mom got the tree she wanted and we got a pretty good deal with the price. God, you have no idea how great it is seeing her so happy. Dad never let her do anything, but now that he’s gone...”

“I can’t wait to see how she decorates the house,” you say with a small smile. Ben’s love for his mother never fails to warm your heart.

“We’re going over Christmas Eve, then everyone will come here for Christmas Day,” he explains. “I didn’t want to overwhelm her, and we all agreed mom deserves a day off where she can just relax and have fun with the rest of us.”

“Grace is a sweetheart, she deserves it.”

Christine squirming in Ben’s arms reminds you both of her presence, and with knowing looks shared between the two of you Ben carries her out into the dining room to clear off the table and make space for your festivities.

“I’m going to build the bestest gingerbread house,” Christine brags only for Ben to raise a brow at her.

“Wait a minute, I thought I was going to build the bestest gingerbread house,” he says, feigning mock surprise with a frown. Christine giggles.

“It’s okay daddy, you can help me make mine.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Ben seats your daughter in her designated chair while you set out the supplies to make your houses; bowls of gumdrops, peppermints, and various holiday candies line the table alongside your gingerbread pieces and tubes of frosting. Christine looks on at the display with excitement, wriggling around in her seat impatiently as Ben carefully ties her hair up and out of the way in order to avoid a mess.

“Okay, I think that’s everything,” you say, rolling up the sleeves of your sweater and securing your apron before seating yourself across the way from your husband and daughter. “I see you’ve decided to tag team me.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Ben says with a shrug, laughing at the way in which you roll your eyes.

“I spent nine months carrying my daughter around only for her to come out as a daddy’s girl.”

“It’s okay, honey, I’m sure you’ll get the next one,” he jokes in response, helping Christine frost the walls of her house to keep them in place.

“Guess we’ll have to wait another nine months and see,” you shrug nonchalantly, stealing a quick glance at your husband immediately after.

“Yep,” he replies, only half paying attention to your statement in the moment as he’s too focused on attaching the gumdrop buttons to his gingerbread man. A beat passes before the words finally register in his mind, and much to Christine’s dismay the gingerbread house is knocked over by his sudden movements. His eyes are wide, head shooting up to look at you, actions causing the table to shake slightly.

“Dad!”

“Wait, what?” He breathes out, eyes already welling with tears.

“Oh, yeah, did I not tell you? I’m pregnant,” you reply as casually as possible, but you’re unable to hold back the large grin that spreads across your face. Ben is on you in an instant, showering you with kisses as you laugh before pulling both you and Christine into the tightest family hug you’ve ever had. Your daughter, too young to understand what’s going on in the moment, is just happy to be included.

The gingerbread houses are momentarily forgotten as your little family rejoices in the news of a new member. By this time next year you’ll have a new baking buddy, and Ben couldn’t ask for anything better than that.

[herzlak]

Let's talk about Tatort 2022...

Alright, due to personal reasons 2022 is going to suck and I'm anxious to only think about all this. This will be drifting from one depressive episode into the next featuring anxiety attacks and borderline-ish stuff. BUT there's Tatort and Tatort 2022 is gonna be fucking LIT.

ARD giving us a treat by starting the year with TWO Tatort episodes. January 1st is Stuttgart, which I'm not rly into but the critique so far is good so... Then there's January 2nd with Dortmund "Gier und Angst" AND I'M SO HYPED. This episode is gonna be Pawlak centered and I love Pawlak. There should be a fair amount of Rosa too, couldn't be better. Also WHUMP. And hands down, Rick Okon is superior at those sad, heartbreaking scenes. Last episode I cried just because of his facial expression, anywAyS-

Then only two weeks later shit's about to blow because we're going back home, y'all! Tatort Münster fucking finally! "Des Teufels langer Atem" is something I'm extremely hyped for because it's "Alle für einen, alle für Thiel" to quote Tittelbach. Family content. Everyone sticking together. Thiel whump - yeah okay, that's gonna break my heart, BUT STILL! Alberich (and Boerne hopefully?) is gonna take criminal paths and there's gonna be her and Vivian Peters roasting Boerne. I miss badass Alberich!! I miss Alberich in general. The rest of the lot too. And I desperately need more Mirko content.

Only ONE week later the epic return of Germany's most depressed gays. "Das Herz der Schlange" and that shit's gonna hurt. Yk I feel like Tatort is giving us a lot of hurt and whump in 2022.

Tatort Dortmund is literally killing us, folks! Another episode coming up in February. "Liebe mich" sounds like some Bönisch x Faber drama. Also: I don't think Pawlak's personal drama will be solved within one episode only so...

TATORT MÜNCHEN, Y'ALL! I hate Fasching, but I'm soo excited for a Faschingstatort. "Kehrhaus" is gonna be amazing, that's it. Good chance Kalli will dress up or something, remember how hyped he was for the Oktoberfest?? Yeah some good gay dads and their son content hell yes.

Let's talk about March!!! March 6th is Tatort "Propheteus" time and I'm pretty sure Boerne will finally get his shit together and comfort Alberich at least a little. AND LOOK AT THOSE BEHIND THE SCENE PHOTOS CHRISTINE ALREADY LEAKED!!! Hyped as fuck tho the storyline is wylddd. Gonna be messy but great and there's a dog.

Yeah by the way... Tatort Münster "Recht wem Recht gebührt"!!! Yep three episodes this year, fellas! Gotta be great!

Summer should be Tatort München "Flash". They're serving... Love it.

The year ends with Tatort München as well. As a period drama Downton Abbey fan I'm super hyped for "Krimidinner". That's gonna be the best Christmas present ever!

BUT that's not it! Cause there's a lot of episodes coming that we know about, but that don't have a date yet. Look...

TATORT KIEL, FINALLY! I'm deprived as shit. My bi ass needs more Mila content. Also: I love Mila's and Borowski's friendship whatever relationship. "Borowski und die große Wut" has been shot in 2019 already and it's finally gonna air... Mila looks like a fucking snack omg AND THE STORYLINE IS COOL, THERE'S GONNA BE WHUMP YAY! Next two up are "Borowski und der Schatten des Mondes" (apparently the first Tatort Kiel to air in 2022) and "Borowski und das hungrige Herz". Second one is still pretty blurry, there's gonna be kink and sex stuff for all I know. But the second one leaves me screaming because it's affecting Borowski privately and I always love them. Aaand it's already known that Mila is gonna have his back (at least for a bit).

TATORT WIEN FUCKING FINALLY, IT'S BEEN MONTHS!!! 2021 was too little old married couple content. "Alles war recht ist" already sounds so nice idk I'm just happy to have them back!! But Heinzi is gonna be an annoying brat again so let's see what Eisner says about that lmao.

Last but not least there's gonna be more Tatort Bremen. Idk when, idk what. What I know (and that breaks my heart) is that the next two episodes are only Linda and Liv. Because for wHaTeVeR rEaSoNs Dar Salim said NOPE. Gahhh I'm such a sucker for Liv and Mads, just the trio in general actually. Liv and Linda are great yk, but I want Mads there too...

ANYWAYS TATORT 2022 LET'S GOOOOO!