#doctor andover

[tinalbion]

Hey so whenever you have the time, could you do and imagine where you have a fear of sex, so you go see Dr.Andover. When the two of you meet there is a mural attraction. Instead of using the fear simulation, he decided that he would be your treatment.

Oh anon, you are a genius and you know he'd be SO into you asking him to be your treatment? The ego on this man would skyrocket, you can't convince me otherwise. But having such a phobia just takes a lot of careful actions and very open communication. Imagine how SOFT this would be?! Omg, well, I hope you enjoy this~

"Show Me How" ||

Doctor Peter Andover x GN!Reader

Rating: Explicit; gender-neutral sex (kept it as vague as possible since it wasn't stated in the ask, I hope it's okay!), masturbation, doctor x patient 'relationship', consensual sex, guided masturbation

Length: 3k

Dr. Andover had seen very many things come in and out of his office, but never did he see something quite like you as you sat across from him. 

You came in with a case of genophobia, which was normal in most cases, but yours was incredibly elevated and the mere thought of any sexual intimacy had sent you into a spiraling panic. This was ruining any relationships that would blossom, it kept you feeling alone and isolated, and even your friends felt awkward whenever they would ask you to come and hang out when they invited their significant others. You wanted to see if there was a way you could at least lower the intensity of your phobia, you figured there was no way of truly curing you from it, so you heard through word of mouth of an incredibly talented doctor that could cure people of their worst fears. 

You did try many other ways with much trial and error, so you were desperate to find a way to cure yourself from the panic attacks, you at least wanted that.

So your roommate set up an appointment and got you in to see the doctor this week, and here you sat before him, curled into yourself on the plush chair in front of his desk. 

"Hello, I'm Doctor Andover, you must be Y/L/N," he greeted and held out his hand. 

You took it hesitantly and shook it quickly, then retracted your hand almost as quickly as you offered it. You noted how soft his hand felt in yours but immediately shook that thought away. 

"Hi," You replied simply. "I heard you're the best at helping cure people's fears. And I uh, well, mine is kinda heightened."

Doctor Andover chuckled and nodded as he sat back against his chair. "How kind of you to say," his voice replied smoothly. "I will admit, I do have a reputation to uphold, so I'm the ammunition to go to in these extreme situations." He leaned forward and looked at you over the glare of his glasses, giving you a small smile. "Well, it says here," he scammed his eyes over the paperwork you filled out, "that you have genophobia, the fear of sexual intercourse. It's very common in trauma patients, and also confused with erotophobia, which is the fear of any aspect of sex. There's also a common shared phobia of haphephobia, a fear of being touched. So tell me about it so we can make sure it's the right one we're treating."

You sat there uneasily and picked at the skin around your nails while you stared at the smooth surface of his desk. "Well, as a kid I wasn't really one to like hugs or kisses from family members and they found it odd, but they'd always say 'it was rude not to hug your aunt', so I was forced to hug my relatives up until I started fighting back physically. They stopped making me after an incident…

"And that's when…something else happened with a family member… I just don't wanna talk about that right now… but otherwise I was able to hold hands with someone when I was in high school, they asked me out and I wasn't sure which the right answer was, so I said yes. They wanted to take things so quickly, but I asked them to at least ask me when they wanted any affection. That didn't work out so well…" 

Dr. Andover nodded along and kept solid eye contact with you as you spoke, and he kept an open mind when you kept your answers semi brief, he understood the gist of it. "Unfortunately that sounds all too common for your situation, Y/N, but we do have several options for people with your case. How far have you gone with someone you've been in a relationship with? As in, what did you do with them to the point you were okay with?"

You sighed and recalled your past. "I've held hands, been kissed on the cheek, and a few times on the lips, but after a while, I got very uneasy when my ex would force me to kiss them out in public. I haven't had actual sex with any of my exes, they either dumped me for not doing anything with them or I broke it off because they expected it whenever they wanted and I told them no." 

You looked defeated and seemed as if you wanted to cry as you curled your legs closer to your chest. The doctor reread through your file and remained silent for a moment, gauging what exactly he could do here.

The way you looked at him though, he felt as if you trusted him wholly to help you, and he couldn't help but look at you as if you were such a fragile creature. Sure, he'd seen many walks of life in his office, but you were a very pure soul who looked for help and had been denied or let down so many times, he wanted to be the one to help you completely. 

He leaned forward and let out a sigh as he thought, exhausting every idea he could in his mind until you spoke up. 

"Doctor Andover-"

"Please," he interrupted you, "call me Peter."

"Okay, Peter, I know that my case is extreme, but if you can't help me, I'd understand. I just want to be able to enjoy my life to its fullest, you know?"

His eyes stared down at you and he couldn't help but smile. "I know, which is why I'm willing to personally see your case over. This is an escalated situation and you're so young, you deserve to feel everything that's included in that. But you have to trust me, and if you can't continue with our sessions, I want you to be one hundred percent honest with me, okay?"

You nodded and felt that you could absolutely trust him, especially when so many people had recommended him to help with your fears, it would be stupid not to trust him. 

For the next week, he oversaw your treatments and you had gotten into the large tank he had, wondering just how something like this would help you, but you listened and did everything he asked. But as time went on, nothing really helped you and you'd get incredibly anxious whenever you came out of treatment, but you found yourself to be calm around Doctor Andover. He would sit with you for long periods of time in your room, talking about his work or just talking about you and the things you enjoyed in life. 

He definitely wasn't expecting the next sentence to come out of your mouth, though.

He looked shocked as if he couldn't comprehend whatever he was hearing. "I beg your pardon?"

"Look, I know it's sorta drastic and a little weird, but it makes sense, right?" You sat up straight and looked at him expectantly. "How else am I supposed to move forward if nothing else is working?"

"To be clear, you're asking me to, uh, assist you personally in overcoming this fear?"

You nodded matter-of-factly and placed your shaky hand over his. "I haven't felt this comfortable with anyone in a very long time, so maybe you are the answer."

"I'm the treatment for you," he repeated. Then he laughed nervously and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and sat there wordlessly. "I will be quite honest with you, Y/N, I did feel a connection to you when I first met you in my office, but after hearing exactly why you were here, I couldn't exploit that. I've never done this before with a client."

"Hmm, I don't believe that, you're incredibly handsome…" You shifted closer to him on your bed and bit your lip gently, chewing on it as you sat beside him closer than you ever thought possible. "I appreciate that Doctor, I really do. But I've been thinking a lot about this, and if you think this is too extreme, I'd understand."

He turned to look at you and actually took in your features for the first time this close. He wasn't sure how to react around someone of your caliber, but he'd be sure to take things slow and use open communication. 

"Alright, well, I'll tell you before I'm about to do anything, okay? I'll be sure to walk you through it, but for now, you can close your eyes and concentrate on the sound of my voice. Breathe in and out slowly several times, then look at me when you're ready."

You nodded and shifted to look directly at him, the white wisps of hair that hung around his face covered some of his features, but it all soon went black as soon as you closed your eyes. You trusted him and he wouldn't steer you wrong. Then you took several long, deep breaths and opened your eyes again.

Peter had to fight the urge and the uncomfortable strain in his dress pants as he thought about you in so many ways, but he promised you he'd take care of you and that's what he'd do. He smiled and spoke gently. 

"I'm going to grab your hand and hold it, okay? Just simply hold it. If you want me to remove my hand, please tell me." 

You watched as he reached for your hand and placed it in his, his fingers entwined with yours and held them softly. You breathed in and out slowly, convincing yourself that this wasn't the end of the world, he was just holding your hand. Another platonic action that many people did. 

You smiled and nodded at him, urging Peter to continue. He began to stroke your hand with his thumb, taking it slow and easy for you, and his intense eyes were on you, waiting for any indication of discomfort. When you gave none, he upped the stakes and allowed his hand to skate up your arm, letting it rest on your elbow as he urged you to scoot forward. 

"Please tell me if-"

"I will," you breathed, "promise. Just please, keep going."

Doctor Andover pulled you forward until you sat in his lap, and that was one of the biggest steps you've taken so far, and you felt no discomfort while you were here with him. You slipped your legs on either side of him and sat comfortably straddling him, your heartbeat quickened as you felt him beneath you, shifting from how uncomfortable his election was becoming. You could see his breathing hitch whenever you moved against him, you could tell he wanted you badly. 

The sounds that came from him only made you want to continue, and it was incredibly hard to push yourself to do this, but the way Peter allowed you to take control over him like this had really helped you, taking your actions at your own pace was something you never really had the option for. While you watched his face relax as your hand drifted down his chest, your attention was stolen once he made a very guttural growl as your hand barely touched just an inch away from his inner thigh. You could tell the pain he was in when you saw just how tight his pants were, so you placed your hand on his belt buckle.

"Did you want me to take these off? You seem to be in some discomfort," you smiled and tugged at the belt. 

"Yes, oh my god, please," he begged, his breathing picked up once your hands fumbled with the black leather, but he watched intently.

He sprang out from his pants, his underwear already ruined with pre cum seeping through. You weren't sure how to really handle yourself for this, so you looked up to him and bit your lip. "I'm not really sure how to continue, show me?"

God, he was having a hell of a time trying not to pin you down and take you all for himself, your innocence only made him hungrier for it. He hadn't been touched in a long time by someone else and it showed. 

"We-well, you can go about it several ways," he began, "it all depends on you though. Foreplay is uh, important, it helps prep both people for one another. So if you were to either lick your hand or spit in it and then slowly start stroking, it-"

You cut him off by placing your hand on it and stroked him gently just once, and Peter threw his head back, letting out a low moan. You then licked your hand like he explained and experimented again, stroking him once, twice, and he was already bucking his hips upward.

"I'm sorry!" He barked. "It just feels so amazing, you're doing so-so well. Did you want to stop?" He brought his head back to look at you and you shook your head. 

"I think I want to try," you said firmly. "Please let me know if I'm doing it right." You pushed yourself off of him and began to strip, naturally, his eyes were on you and he fought hard against helping you. 

When you were standing bare before him, you felt yourself slowly leaking down the sinside of your thighs, Peter took notice of it immediately and licked his lips as you climbed back on top of him. 

"Can I sit on you?" You asked softly. 

He held out his hands and helped you ease yourself onto his cock, the groan that tore from his throat was almost animalistic as you sunk down slowly onto him, he stretched you out and you took your time to fully push him all the way in until he was buried inside of you. You leaned forward and sighed as your head rested on his shoulder, just easing yourself into this as your hands began to shake a little. 

"Am I doing good?"

"Fuck, Y/N, you're doing so good, ahh, yeah just take it one step at a time. When you're ready, you can rock your hips and go at your own pace."

You did as he told you and slowly, you began to gently rock back and forth against him, and you felt that the way he stretched you out felt better than you expected. Peter's hands sat on either side of your waist and he couldn't help but tighten his grip whenever you pushed yourself fully back onto him. 

You let out a few muffled sounds of your own and moaned his name, which he found incredibly hot. 

"Yeah, I love when you call out my name like that," he purred as he threw his head back. 

"Mhm, I think I like calling it out," you confessed. "Ahh, Peter, please, show me how it's done, fuck-"

At that, he warned that he was going to have you move to where your back was against his chest, then he eased himself back inside of you, his hands on both of your thighs. While he lay back against the mattress, he thrust his hips upward as he held you still, and the feeling of him constantly hitting your spot just right over and over again drove you wild.

"Oh my god, Peter- FUCK!" 

He slowed as he was about to ask you if he should continue, but you bounced your hips against him, causing him to stop mid-sentence.

"Don't stop, please, keep going!"

He continued to thrust upward into you, his hands gripping your chest, your arms, anywhere that he could hold onto you so you wouldn’t slip. He was so close to his end but knew better than to ruin you the first time, so he begged you to slow down so he could reposition you again. When you knew that he was close, you lay back against your mattress and stared up at him, his face was slick with sweat while his hair clung to him, and his breathing was heavy as he took a moment to check on you.

“You’re still okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded and gave him a gentle smile. “Yeah, I feel… I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel that I can trust you.” You reached your hand up and played a bit with his hair. “It’s almost like I didn’t even think that my phobia was real…” Your words trailed off while Peter leaned in close to you, his face shifted from thoughtful to kind.

He stroked the side of your face and smiled before asking once again if you wanted to continue, and once you gave him the go-ahead, he slowly eased himself back inside of you, the feeling of you clenching around him made him shutter. You reached your arms around him and held him to you as he began to build his pace up again, and you could feel yourself getting that odd feeling in the pit of your stomach. Peter warned you again that he was getting close, his voice almost taken from him as he groaned your name over and over again. 

“Y/N, I’m going to– ahh fuck, I’m about to cum,” he growled. 

“Then cum, Peter, please.”

He quickly pulled out from you and wrapped his hand around his cock, the pressure that built up during your session finally released all over your bare chest and stomach, his heavy panting and pathetic groans filling the room. You hadn’t been completely satisfied yet, but you didn’t expect to be, this was only the first time you were able to push this experiment onto him. 

Doctor Andover collapsed beside you on the bed and couldn’t help but lift his head to look at you. “I’m sorry it didn’t go as long as it could have, like I said, it’s–”

You laughed and shook your head. “Are you kidding? This was the first time I’d done anything like this in so long, I don’t expect either of us to know what the hell we were doing. But I want to thank you for indulging my silly treatment idea, it’s definitely shown me it’s possible that I can trust someone.”

He smiled and let out a breathy laugh. “Guess you could say I’ll have to keep providing you this treatment, hmm, Y/N?”

With a large smile, you turned away and stared up at the ceiling, your heart still pounding wildly as you lay there. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

This was going to prove to be a very interesting session.

[chocolatemicenwhiskey]

Can I get more info on Fear Bros?

Ah yes, one of my favorite AUs. Tagging @tranimation because she's my co-conspirator on it and might have something to add.

Andover was a psychology professor at Gotham University before the events of Fear Clinic.

Harely most likely banged him for a grade change.

A pre-Scarecrow Jonathan Crane was one of Andover's best students and became something of a protegè.

Andover and Crane's friendship is very rocky, both having incriminating information about the other. This resulted on them collaborating on both Andover's prototype Fear Chamber and Crane's fear toxin.

Villatoro was originally from Blackgate before being shipped to Alcatraz for Andover's expiraments. Crane has a sneaking suspicion he's actually Bane.

The events of the Fear Clinic movie occurs in this AU, which could be in the Arkham universe. Andover and Crane try to ruin each other.

[booler]

i got so stressed i got dizzy

[tinalbion]

Here's something for the anon who was speaking to me about Dr. Andover 😏❤❤❤

Robert Englund as Dr. Andover in  Fear Clinic (2015)

[alovesickdork]

Legit if I keep thinking about a character does that mean I might want to f/o them?

[lnkedmyheart]

People- YuuMori exaggerates how evil the nobility and upper class is.

(Ignoring the fact that it presents some nobles as decent people while focussing on the one's that aren't)

Me-

They thought the poor deserved to stay poor because they were lazy and/or undeserving of fortune.

Orphans would remain orphans even after adoption and were often regarded as intruders and outsiders. An adopted lower class orphan could never be associated with the rich family that adopted them. Adopted orphans could be abandoned and were often subject to harsher punishments and less care. Around 60% of the criminals were estimated to be orphans because of their situation.

They literally shoved naked toddlers up hot soot filled chimneys to clean them leading them to develop cancer and other terminal diseases. Many of these kids would sometimes get stuck in the chimneys and people would try to smoke them out by lighting a fire under them. Sometimes they'd have to leave the stuck child there because it was too hard to get them out and let them die there. The nobility and the master sweeps threw a massive hissy fit when the practice was abolished and actually continued the practice till very very recently. Oh and the kids literally slept with the same rag blanket they used to collect the chimney dirt during the day.

The Andover Workhouse Scandal- the workers were so starved and underpaid they ate the animal bones they were supposed to be crushing.

The fucking Two Penny Hangover- a sleeping arrangement for the poor where you slept hanging on a rope for 2 pennies completely exposed to the elements and they woke you up by untying the rope on one end and letting you crash face first into the floor.

Or you could sleep in the 4 penny coffin if you managed to have enough to spare.

The Poor Law Amendment of 1834. Oh how do we fix poverty? Why, by getting those lazy homeless bastards off their assess and forcing them to do gruelling absolutely awful work at warehouses for bare minimum wages and then when they can't pay off the loans and debts, by tossing the entire family into prisons and running them into the ground with work and little food.

Somewhat less related but Ignaz Semmelweis went insane because he was mocked and attacked for insisting that the victorian doctors actually wash their hands before performing child births after working at the morgue even though the doctors were practically causing a large number of pregnant women to die due to sepsis.

Seriously, read any Charles Dickens or Thomas Hardy book and you'll see absolutely how disgusting so many of the upper and middle class people were.

[nextstopparis]

Sending love and support in this your time of your Doctor Who rewatch 💛💛💛

THANK YOU OH MY GOD i will take the support willingly bc i NEED it omg. im stuck between my heart bursting every time i even remember martha, missing nine like it's no one's business ("you were fantastic, absolutely fantastic. and you know what? so was i" IM LITERALLY DROWNING IN MY TEARS SHUT UPPPPP), missing ten like it's no one's business, wanting to punch and/or slap ten silly, missing donna and rose and martha like it's no one's business, listening to rose's theme INCESSANTLY, rewatching marthas first ep and the shakespeare episode and amy's first episode INCESSANTLY, crying over river and the doctor (and watching the husbands of river song before watching the silence in the library episodes OVER ANDOVER AND OVR AGAIN), fucking losing my mind over amy and rory (and crying over them), feeling the rage of a million suns burning in my chest bc of how martha and mickey were treated, crying (but in a haha im losing it way) over the cybermans and daleks interaction, and rolling on the floor sobbing at amy and eleven during eleven's regeneration<3

i lost myself a bit there lol dunno if that made sense but. nonetheless. thnk u for the support evidently i do infact need it<3

[dennlawgroup]

The Best Auto Accident Lawyer in Andover MA

Due to the banks easy loan policies, nowadays it is so easy to get a car for yourself. An increase in the number of cars operating on the roads has led to a tremendous increase in the number of car accidents also. In the midst of such unwanted events, lawsuits and criminal charges are bound to arise. As accidents are events having legal consequences, the role of a lawyer is that of great importance.

            Car accident lawyers exist to help a person to file or defend a lawsuit. A car accident lawyer provides the offenders or car accident victims with information regarding the numerous practical and legal aspects of personal injury law and car accident claims. It is a fact that almost every person on an average is involved in at least one car accident in his lifetime.

            Lawyers plays an extremely important role in car accidents. In such accidents, law may charge the offenders strictly. It is the duty of the lawyer to represent his client in court. By using legal expertise, a lawyer tries to avoid or minimize the penalties awarded by the court of law. In a car accident they may also be required to defend a lawsuit. Contrary to this, lawyers may also be hired by the victims in order to claim compensations for the damages. This compensation is obtained by filing a lawsuit against the offending party. In case of a fatal car accident, it is the duty of the lawyer to preside over the details of the lawsuit. In the United States, lawyers play the role of counselling their clients regarding their rights, and argue in favour of the best interests of their clients.

            In case of fatal car accidents, the extent of the damages and injuries involved tend to be comparatively high, as a lot of legal requirements need to be complied with. A car accident lawyer is capable of effectively dealing with law authorities and insurance companies. Car accident lawyers have made handling a fatal car accident less complicated for people who are ignorant and unaware of any legality. Hiring a lawyer proves to be critical in ensuring that legal rights of the parties in the accident are protected.

            Surveillance by Insurance Companies: Remember at all times that you may be under surveillance and, therefore, subject to being photographed or filmed by the adverse party. Be advised that there are cases where photographs and films have been introduced in court showing claimants who were allegedly in serious condition participating in activities which they alleged they were unable to do. You do not have to live in fear of being photographed, of course, if your cause is a just one.

            However, when carrying on your usual activities, keep in mind at all times that you are subject to investigation. If you have been seriously injured, do not do anything that will jeopardize your case during the course of your daily life. You should always follow your doctor’s advice. If you have to do things which causes you pain, this can usually be explained to the full satisfaction of any court or jury.

            If this unfortunate incident happens to you in Andover or Sudbury and you need immediate legal counsel, please reach out to Denn Law Group. We have a team of expert legal counsellors to help you guide in such a situation. If you or a member of your family has suffered serious injuries in a car accident, we are here to help.  Call Denn Law Group, LLC at 978-252-4567. A proper legal representation is your basic rights, please take the help of Denn Law Group’s Car Accidents Lawyers in Sudbury and Andover.

[likeshipsonthesea]

okay so legit one of my first-ever nurseydex posts was this one right here and while i still agree with/hc parts of it i have to admit it’s a bit outdated for how i see nurseydex’s relationship now so i thought why not make a new “why i ship nurseydex” post three years later to explain my own rambling understanding of them??

so, anywho. imagine a dex-- back when he was just will-- growing up with this huge weight of expectation around him, about every aspect of his life-- expectation of what a man ought to be, expectation of what a student ought to be, a worker, a son, etc-- and despite what he wants and feels, striving to meet/exceed this expectation to satisfy his parents and make them proud and be who they want him to be. like, following his ma around when she does chores might be fun and helpful, but a man is supposed to be doing the dirty, heavy work, no baking or doing laundry (at least that’s what his brother says) and from the time he’s little he knows that college means money and they don’t have that, but education is also very important and college is how he gets a better life for him and his family, and so from elementary school he’s studying his spelling words and times tables and striving to be the best student he can be because scholarships and respect and expectation. and yeah, maybe there’s other expectations, around who he can and cannot like, and maybe that doesn’t always fit the way he thinks it’s supposed to, and he allows himself little indulgences knowing one day that he will do what is expected of him and make his parents happy, and the crushing weight of that-- of knowing what the future will force him into-- has him frozen between the need to be what he’s supposed to be and the want to be free, and these warring ideals within his own mind leave him grasping and uncertain and--and angry at everything (family, town, society, himself) for putting him there to begin with and then-- and then-- he goes to samwell

MEANWHILE there’s a little nursey, small and surrounded by smiling parents and nannies and love, and somehow, despite it all, he’s anxious. it’s his brain, probably, but at four, nursey doesn’t know anything about brains, all he knows is that his parents aren’t home and maybe that’s his fault and before he can understand how jobs work and how their importance doesn’t outweigh his parents’ love for him, he’s sitting at home wondering how to be better, how to be enough to keep them there, how to be good. and he excels in all his classes, gets bored sitting there with all his fancy private school kindergarten work finished on his desk, and his parents bring him to the doctor’s thinking it’s an attention disorder and he gets diagnosed with anxiety. at eight. and his parents-- mama gets mad (and nursey hasn’t yet learned to distinguish anger at the world and anger at him) and mom becomes focused, ready to fix it (not realizing, really, how nursey sees it as a need to fix him) and dad is maybe the best, he just buys some puzzles and makes hot cocoa and sits with nursey when the world gets too tough, and still nursey leaves thinking i’m a burden, he has to take the time to do this, i’m a burden, and he grows up with the idea that he has to be good, can’t be broken, has to pretend to be perfect even if he isn’t otherwise his parents will be sad and it will be his fault, and it works (until it doesn’t) and he thrives (until he doesn’t) and everything is happy and perfect and wonderful (until it isn’t) and things break apart and nursey decides perfection is impossible to fabricate but pretending to be chill, pretending to at least be okay is enough, and so he moves on with this veneer of okayness and this mess of anxiety and apprehension and worry underneath and it’s such a delicate balance he somehow manages to handle until samwell

(under the cut bc, well. it got a little long. oops?)

and there it’s like-- they’re both at the perfect point to just completely explode one another. nursey sees this walking ball of seemingly together person and pokes at it, this kind of self-projection thing really, trying to break the outside and see the mess within, and meanwhile dex looks at nursey and sees someone perfectly content with everything in life and turns on every probing question like it’s an attack, and maybe it takes a few terms-- maybe all of their frog year-- to start seeing past the cracks. maybe a few of nursey’s questions poke at places more sensitive than he’d meant to see, and maybe dex calls nursey out on things his anxiety has whipped out of control, and maybe after they lose the playoffs and dex is angry and violent and not enough and nursey sees that-- feels the ache of imperfection, too-- and somehow the knowledge that he’s not alone makes it better? and suddenly he wants to make it better for dex, too? and so they go into the summer after frog year with the beginnings of an understanding and things are-- tentative, but they know how to deal with fragility better than most, and it survives the break, survives the infrequent texts and tangential group chat conversations

and sophomore year they have rooms across the hall from one another, randomly. they walk together to practices, because why not, and tag along on team breakfasts (dex is a morning person, nursey is not, dex likes being helpful, nursey likes making it to bfast before holster eats all the waffles) and maybe they start talking-- actually talking, not barbs and banter and chirps just a bit too sharp to laugh at. it’s like an actual conversation for the first time since they’ve known each other, and c’s ecstatic and their hockey’s great and things are going wonderful.

until one of them catches feelings.

it doesn’t quite matter which one of them-- maybe dex falls in love with the way nursey gestures with his hands too much as he talks and how he waxes poetic about everything, but mostly nature and books and how it feels to smile without knowing it, and maybe dex falls in love with the way he feels around nursey, like he could say anything and nursey wouldn’t- he’d judge, maybe, because nursey likes doing that, but it would never be maliciously, it would always be out of a want for dex to grow, learn, be himself more. and seriously, that wouldn’t be hard to fall in love with

or maybe nursey falls in love with the weird bits of knowledge dex drops about any and everything, always attributed to an aunt or uncle, of which he likely has an unlimited stock, and the way that dex catches him when he trips on the sidewalk and the strong, sure way his hands curl around nursey’s body, and how when he gets flustered or embarrassed or angry or happy, his flush is a different shade depending on the emotion, and how nursey-- when he’s around dex-- doesn’t wonder if dex thinks what he’s saying is dumb-- he probably does-- because dex cares anyway and isn’t that just completely and wholly unavoidably wonderful?

so. one of them falls in love. there’s a dib flip. dex goes a little overboard. so does nursey. neither of them reacts accordingly and it’s nearly impossible to say which one reacts to the other’s overreaction. one person has their heart beat up (he still doesn’t like me, he still thinks i’m just someone to annoy) and then they lose before they even make the playoffs and then jack and bitty come out on live tv and dex’s parents infer things that break expectations and nursey’s parents start fighting (unrelated) and nursey wonders if it’s his fault (it isn’t) and they come back to samwell in the fall poised to break one another apart.

if in frog year it was an explosion, in junior year it’s a careful disassembly. they poke at the soft spots they’ve learned in the past year until the whole living situation comes crumbling down and, in the rumble, everything is silent and so much clearer. nursey is alone in a top bunk with a broken wrist, isolated from the team and his parents, scattered across the globe for work in an effort to get away from one another. dex is tucked away in the basement, sucking at hockey as his body refuses to get used to a different d-partner and his conversations with his parents consist of short sentences and loaded silences, and he has no idea what to do with either.

spring comes early that year. flowers poking up amongst frost-bitten blades of grass, birds chirping in the early hours of practices. nursey is back on the ice. he and dex don’t speak, except to work through plays. it begins to come back-- their understanding-- if only on the ice.

bitty starts visiting jack more on the weekends and chowder is off with caitlin and doing compsci homework and talking to recruiters. whiskey usually isn’t there anyway and tango is off doing everything and the waffles are cool but suddenly they seem so young.

on saturday nights, dex cooks and nursey sits at the table with him and complains, mostly to himself at first, about his writing prof. as the weeks wear on, dex adds his own complaints, too. sometimes nursey will throw in something good that happened. sometimes dex will tell a joke (usually a pun, usually horrible, usually inducing belly-aches in nursey regardless). afterwards they do the dishes. dex mentions how he used to love doing the dishes, how it calmed him. how his brother used to comment on it disparagingly. nursey mentions, another time, how his roommate at andover would hate the impromptu headphone dance parties he’d put on-- how it was something he’d do with his dad, when he was young. how it made things better, for a while.

(they never really talk about when happened, dex’s parents or nursey’s, the ache of loneliness that fall term, not until very later, after samwell, after-- well. it takes a while, but when they finally do talk about it, it hurts less if only because of the delicateness with which they’ve learned how to handle such things, by then)

 by the time the end of the year arrives-- when they win  the fucking playoffs and hoist bitty onto their shoulders with a burning pride in their chests-- nursey and dex would call one another friends. to their faces and everything. and then there’s a banquet and dex gets the c and-- as a twist-- nursey gets the a (maybe coach and hall approached dex before the banquet, explained how close the votes were, asked him if he’d mind, and dex gave the most honest answer maybe he’d ever given in his life-- it would be an honor)

they go into the summer with one another at the top of their messages. they call nearly every week, snapchat daily, about nursey’s internship at a publishing house, dex’s at a tech company in boston. maybe nursey panic-calls dex at three in the morning going on about the publishing process and how crazy it is and how i’m never going to be published and dex calms him down with some seriously misinformed words about the literary business that make nursey breathe easy anyway, and maybe dex goes home one weekend and there’s radio silence until dex calls him on the way back home and asks nursey to just talk and so from maine until massachussetts it’s nursey’s voice rambling about pears and children’s books and cooking equipment until dex gets back to the apartment his internship is paying for and simply says thank you

and they go into senior year this unquestionable team with a legacy to uphold. dex works through plays without hesitation, showing the baby frogs (juniors, they call them) the ropes and silently making the team a warm space, while nursey inspires and comforts and corrects the little things, and they run the haus in the same way-- nursey planning movie nights and board game nights (now that holster and jack are gone and there are strict rules in place) and dex is usually there in the kitchen, cooking and baking and willing to listen to anything the players have to say, and if you asked any of the baby frogs what they thought of dex and nursey’s relationship, they would’ve said that their captains had been friends for years (and maybe, in the right light, that would be true)

how they get together at this point is not important. whichever one didn’t catch feelings sophomore year found them, sometime afterwards, behind a box of forgotten things, forgotten only because they’d been there quietly for so long that no one had every thought to question their presence, and so, in senior year, when they are both in places where things are no longer fragile, where “broken” is a word easily thrown away, they come together with little fanfare.

over a pie, one softly raining afternoon, or in a slipped-into-snowbank on the way back from practice, or in the library over an open textbook or between laughter or in the moments before sleep embraces them on a roadie, or any number of other things.

that is not the most important part-- it’s important, of course, but not the most-- the most important part is that they were, are, together long before any moment like that occurs. because they both learned, grew from the volatile, fragile people they arrived as. grew because they forced each other, became better, stronger, with the guidance and comfort and assurance the other offered. because that is what makes a partnership, a bond of the souls, a love like theirs. it is not being perfect, not even being perfect for one another, but being there and willing to grow.

maybe it’s samwell-- got your back-- that puts them in a place where this kind of process can work. maybe it’s the nature of college itself. maybe it would’ve happened regardless of where they were. but it happened, and it’s wonderful, and that’s what matters.

[vfdarkness]

S1E8 Queen of Cups - Transcript

INTRO

Dark Ambient Drone.

RYDER

You're with your child at the neighborhood playground. All the children stop playing and silently form a circle. One steps behind the rest, runs around them, and tags your child. All then lock arms with one another. Your child solemnly steps into the circle. In a bright flash, they disappear.

A beat.

RYDER

You need my help.

AVFD music fades in.

RYDER

This is A Voice From Darkness.

ACT I

AVFD music fades out.

RYDER

Hello, this is Dr. Malcolm Ryder, parapsychologist. Here as always to answer your paranormal questions, warn you of strange events unfolding, and take your calls regarding the most dire of circumstances. That said, we already have a caller on the line. Someone I'm surprised to hear from, to be honest, as this person is an old acquaintance of mine whom I haven't spoken with in years. They claim to have something I want. We'll find out what that is together in the second half of our show. First though, we go to National Alerts.

National Alerts music fades in.

RYDER

National Alerts. This alert is for Fairhope, Alabama.

For the past four nights windows and doors have disappeared from homes and buildings across the town. I do not mean to suggest they’re being stolen. No. The doors and windows of Fairhope are literally disappearing - leaving behind walls with no method of entry. Or escape. In all cases, the fire dept has arrived - broken through the walls to rescue those trapped inside. But in each case there are no living persons. Only the mummified remains of former Fairhope residents. The city council advises sleeping outdoors until the cause of this anomaly is discovered. So if you’re in Fairhope, Alabama - please be careful when indoors.

National Alerts music fades out.

RYDER

That is the only National Alert for the week. Onward to Quick Questions. Do you have a question you’d like me to answer? Feel free to write to us at avoicefromdarkness@gmail.com or tweet us @vfdarkness. That’s avoicefromdarkness@gmail.com or tweet @vfdarkness. Our first question comes to us via email from Grey: Dr. Ryder, they write. I’m still in school and recently when walking down the hallway, I turned the corner to another hall and it was empty. Deserted. But it was the middle of the day - between classes - there should’ve been dozens of students. I had to get to my next class so I rushed to where I thought I was supposed to be. I got to the classroom door and was about to go in, but the woman standing at the front - her hair was a different color and style than my teacher’s. She was staring at the back of the room. All the students were lined up, with their noses to the wall. Confused, I wasn’t sure what to do. I was supposed to have a class there.

At least I thought I was. One of the students turned my direction - glanced at me - but quickly turned back to the wall - now shaking with fear. The teacher told the students: “Do not look at the door. Do not look at her. She’ll go away soon. She’ll leave us alone. She won’t hurt us this time if we don’t look at her. She never stays more than a few minutes. Don’t worry.” I ran. Back down the hall around the corner. And I was safe - in a normal hallway - a hallway in my school. Dr. Ryder, what happened to me? Where did I go? The teacher made it sound like I’ve been there before. But I haven’t. What does this all mean? What do I do?

A beat.

RYDER

Grey, I’m afraid you’ve found yourself in a complicated situation. You're likely stumbling into an alternate reality - one that bears some superficial similarities to ours, but is otherwise quite different. Especially with how time flows there. Now I could give you a dozen different home remedies that’re supposed to prevent transversing realities - like carrying a broken pocket watch in your left pocket - but frankly these solutions never work. The best advice I can give is when you find yourself in this alternate place - and I'm sorry but you likely will find yourself there at least a few more times - don’t stay more than a few minutes. And try not to harm the students there. Sometime in their past - your future - you’ll inevitably do something to scare them. There’s nothing you can do about it - Alea iacta est: the die is cast. As many as six thousand Americans a year slip into an alternate reality either temporarily or permanently - most likely without even realizing it.

This is how we get phenomena such as the Mandela effect. It's rarely a fatal condition. I'm sure you'll come out on the other end just fine.

A beat.

RYDER

I’m afraid that’s the only question we have time for today. Shortly we’ll hear from our caller on the line who claims to have something I want. We’ll find out what that is after Today in Odd America.

TODAY IN ODD AMERICA

TIOA music fades in.

RYDER

Today in Odd America we find ourselves in Andover, Massachusetts. There on this day in 1962 the sexually-transmitted language of Vlin ceased to exist. The first known speaker of Vlin dates back to the Battle of Stones River in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. A woman, described as having olive skin tone and raven black hair appeared at the Union encampment on December 31st, 1862. A young officer, Captain James Vlin took her back to his tent that evening. The next morning he was incapable of speaking English. The woman’s name is unknown to this day. James Vlin shot her the morning of January 1st. She was buried in an unmarked grave. It’s unclear if she was the original speaker, and patient zero of the sexually-transmitted language, or if she too was merely a victim.

A beat.

Captain James Vlin was unable to communicate in any known language through spoken word or writing. Everything he said aloud was alien to those who heard him.

Everything he wrote - indecipherable. He was sent back North after the battle, examined by doctors. Through one of the Union doctors, Daniel Foster, we have the first attempt at creating a Vlin alphabet. According to Dr. Foster’s journal, he worked with James Vlin for weeks in an attempt to cure or understand him. He failed at both efforts. James Vlin was sent back to his family in Massachusetts.

A beat.

RYDER

He became prone to emotional outbursts when attempting to communicate with his family. Either angry or bursting into tears when they were unable to understand anything beyond his most simple wants. Journal entries and letters from his family at that period tell of their extended efforts to reteach him English or to learn his new language. All attempts failed.

Four months after his arrival back home, the family’s maid lost her ability to speak English. She too could now only speak in the sexually-transmitted language. James Vlin’s spirits rose during this time, though the Vlin family found themselves mired in scandal. It was unclear if James had forced himself on the maid, a woman named Stephanie Sanders, or if she’d gone to him willingly.

A beat.

RYDER

A small house was built on the far lot of the Vlin estate. James and Stephanie were wed and moved into their new home. A year later they had their first child. Less than ten months after the birth, the child could seemingly speak basic words of the sexually-transmitted language. Though it never did learn English. None of the eight children James and Stephanie had did.

The children, and parents, became regular research subjects at Harvard. Linguists, medical doctors, biologists all attempted to discover why the parents lost the ability to understand any language but Vlin, and why the children were incapable of learning any language but it.

Research papers and books were written about the Vlin family, but no answer was discovered. After several years of study, academics and the public lost interest in the strange linguistic phenomenon.

That is, until 1894 when an outbreak of the language occurred in Boston. Over the course of a four month period over 300 men and a few dozen women lost their ability to speak or read English, but gained the ability to understand Vlin.

The cause of the outbreak was traced back to Mary and Rebecca Vlin. Daughters of James and Stephanie. Both women were in their thirties, thought to be unwedable by the English-speaking side of the family. They disappeared from the Vlin estate sometime in the early 1890s. A judge found them guilty of both prostitution and willfully spreading a disease. For the latter crime, they were sentenced to death.

A beat.

RYDER

All the new speakers of Vlin were forcibly removed from their homes in Boston and relocated to land in the town of Andover. High walls and armed guards were posted around the area. No official records corroborate this, however it’s widely believed those inside the community were castrated to further prevent the spread of Vlin. The shelters in the Andover community were of terrible quality. Not able to keep rain or wind fully out.

All those inside the walls were reliant on a single well for fresh water.

Journalists and academics were discouraged from further reporting on the language of Vlin and the Andover community. In one case, a journalist at the Boston Herald who attempted to write on their harsh living conditions was found dead in a hotel room with two bullet holes in the back of his head. His death ruled a suicide.

A beat.

RYDER

The subject of Vlin died out nationally until the outbreak of the first world war. In 1917, Patrick Baker - a Catholic theologian and pacifist gave a speech where he stated his belief that the language of Vlin was the original tongue man spoke before the fall of the tower of Babel and God had finally forgiven mankind. He believed God wanted all people to become infected with the language to better understand one another and to come together in world peace.

Baker was denounced by the Catholic Church and imprisoned under the Espionage Act of 1917 for speaking out against the war. This had a dampening effect on anyone else speaking out in favor of those infected with the language.

A beat.

RYDER

During the second world war, comparisons were made between Andover and the Japanese internment camps. Still, nothing further was done to help the Andover community.

A beat.

RYDER

What happened to the speakers of Vlin between the end of the second world war and the early sixties is a mystery. Many journals written in Vlin exist but remain untranslated. All we know for sure is that every speaker of the language died of either disease, old age, or other causes during that period. Until finally, on this day in 1962 the last speaker of Vlin passed away.

The language disappeared from the earth just shy of being a century old. Despite the work of scholars and doctors, not a single word has been translated to this day. Conspiracy theorists believe the government preserved the language by freezing bodily fluids from members of the Andover community. And so it might be possible some day another outbreak occurs - perhaps even at the global level. Contrary to this view, some theologians now accept the Baker heresy and believe God gave us one chance to again be united with a single language, and we rejected this gift. I do not hold either belief myself, but do think it’s tragic when a language leaves the world. With it goes an ephemeral piece of humanity that we likely cannot ever get back.

A beat.

RYDER

Now back to our main show.

ACT II

TIOA music fades out.

RYDER

And we're back. On the line we have an old acquaintance of mine. Someone I'm surprised to hear from, to be honest.

ALEC

And I'm surprised you took my call, Malcolm. Figured you'd forgotten about old Alec Byrd.

RYDER

You said you have something I want. I'm curious what that is.

ALEC

My last year at Ravenswood - there was a time we drank at the Queen of Cups: you, me, most of the old crew. Do you remember?

RYDER

We went there many times. You'd have to be more specific. But, Alec, I'm not interested in talking about drinking stories from college. Why did you call?

ALEC

Context is key, Malcolm. I'll tell you what I have. But I want you to understand why I have it.

RYDER

Fine. Go on.

ALEC

This time at the Queen - five of us were there. You, Sonja, Charlotte, me, and Julian. Normally we'd all only stay for a few rounds, joke about something stupid we heard an undergrad say or try to out know-it-all each another. This particular time though - we asked each other the one question we'd all avoided. Do you remember what that was?

A beat.

RYDER

What are you afraid of?

ALEC

It's so funny - all of us were studying the supernatural. In a sense - studying the greatest cause of fear. Talking about it in dry, technical, academic terms.

Completely refusing to engage with this deep, primal emotion on any personal level. Well... everyone except Julian. But look what happened to him?

RYDER

What do you have that I want, Alec? I swear if you only called into my show to-

ALEC

(interrupts)

That story you told the other week about your grandad and his shadow. About how when you were a boy and he cut off his shadow... and it came at you. You told the four of us that same story that night at the Queen. Said shadows still spooked you. Gave you nightmares.

RYDER

Yes, it was a traumatic event from my childhood. These sorts of things hold a power over us even as we age.

ALEC

A few months after that night you had me kicked out of Ravenswood. I'd exaggerated some research-

RYDER

You fabricated results - giving credence to a false method of removing ghosts from a haunted place. If your made-up data had been taken seriously by anyone - people would've been hurt.

ALEC

It wasn't false. I just. Just embellished a bit. I had to otherwise I would have lost my fellowship. Not that that really mattered in the end. You ratted me out.

RYDER

I made sure no one got hurt from your false claims. Alec, what do you have that I want?

ALEC

Your granddad's shadow knife.

RYDER

How? That's impossible. He never would've entrusted something so dangerous to you.

Alec laughs.

ALEC

I'm sorry. It's just funny, right? You deal with, with... the unwelcome riders, cities that appear out of nowhere, so many ACTUALLY impossible things. But old Alec Byrd possessing you granddad's knife strains the credulity of Doctor Malcolm Ryder.

RYDER

Why do you have the knife?

ALEC

Duncan Ryder was one of my favorite professors. It would've been rude of me to leave the island without saying goodbye. During that final visit, he left me alone in his study while he got us drinks. In that moment, I admitted to myself why I was truly there: to steal the knife. To then use it to take vengeance against you. I was partially successful.

RYDER

You intended on cutting your shadow off and having it attack me?

ALEC

My plan... well, there was no plan. None of this was thought out.

A beat.

ALEC

I should've listened better to your story. The great Duncan Ryder couldn't control his shadow for more than a few minutes after he'd cut it from himself. It morphed, changed shape into something monsterous.

I don't know what made me think I'd have better results. I cut my shadow off in one of the courtyards on campus. Told it to go find you. I didn't say to kill you. I don't think I did. Not that it mattered. Thirty seconds after I severed it, it stopped listening. Stealthed away into the darkness of the night.

RYDER

How did you get it back?

ALEC

I didn't. For nearly twenty years now, I've walked this world without a shadow. Don't get me wrong, I tried to get it back. Stayed a few days longer on Mackinaw than I intended. After a while though, they wouldn't let me on university grounds.

RYDER

You could have told someone. Anyone. Any of us - even if you were furious at me - Charlotte, Sonja, they would have helped you. You could have gone back to my grandfather.

ALEC

Are you even thinking that through? I was the grad student they just kicked out. And what, I go back not a week later and tell them I practiced some ancient form of black magic I didn't even understand? To scare - or possibly kill - the student who turned me in? No. I didn't tell anyone. And when I wasn't allowed back on school grounds... that was that. I went to other libraries in other parts of the country, dark arts practitioners. Did research. No such luck though. As I said, going on twenty years - no such luck.

RYDER

Why come forward now?

ALEC

I've run out of time. Julian's after me. He knows I have the knife and he wants it. I don't know what for. But I need your help, Malcolm.  I need protection. Can you meet me on the island - at the Queen of Cups - in two days?

RYDER

Bring the knife. Return it to me. And I'll be there.

ALEC

I don't want that evil little thing. It's all yours. See you in a few days.

Phone click.

A beat.

RYDER

All right, that is all the time we have for tonight. And I have some travel arrangements to make. But remember, if you're experiencing anything paranormal, supernatural, otherworldly - please feel free to call in-

AVFD outro music fades in.

RYDER

Next time, on A Voice From Darkness.

[tinalbion]

Headcanons for (Freddy Krueger, Inkubus, Mayor Buckman, Dr. Andover) being obsessed with/having a twisted "crush" on (one of) their latest victim(s), if you do not mind terribly. Maybe there's just *something* about them...But she fights and refuses.

First off, all the Englund character group?! Yes, omg PLEASE. This is gonna be so fun to do, I can feel it! And then the angst, the pining! Ahhh! Anon, bless you. I hope I’ve done well!

Freddy

He wasn’t the one to usually pine for anyone, the only thing he craved, the thing he wanted was their soul. That was it, that’s how it always went. But something was off, something about them just sparked the need and want that he NEVER felt for anyone on this level. It was ridiculous and he wanted to cast the thoughts from his head immediately, but it kept gnawing at the back of his mind no matter what he did.

At first, he stalked them like he did any normal victim, but with every visit, she noticed the shift in their dreams, how it went from demonic and terrifying to a seemingly more intimate setting. She wasn’t exactly upset by the change, but when she started seeing him more and more, it was unnerving and it made her feel real danger when she was asleep.

Freddy would try so desperately to convince her that she was special, that she was something that was never supposed to happen, but she doesn’ like where this is going. She HATES it. She just wants to dream normally and live her life when she’s awake, but he tries so hard to not let her go. This is his realm and will do everything in his power to keep her here with him. 

When she begins to fight it and try to escape, his twisted sense of reality doesn’t seem to register at first, he tries to show her just how wonderful it can be to be here in the dream realm with him. Why would you be so stupid as to reject that? It’s bliss. He would try to show her over and over again, to prove that he was worth seeing a different side to. If she didn’t agree, what would he do, exactly? 

Marking her up would be such a delicious joy, showing her that he was displaying his loyalty to her, showing her what NO ONE else had ever earned before from him, not even when he was bound to a mortal body. He wanted to hurt her in the best way possible to show her how being with him would be better than ecstasy, better than living in her usual dull, mundane world. He would show her what living could be.  

That urge to feel the hot blood run from her by his blades would flash in his mind as she would look up at him in complete and utter fear, the fact that she was denying him, a pathetic human fool who knew nothing of the things she could have gotten. To hell with her, she would end up just like any other victim he had in his realm. It was either bow to him or die by his hand. ‘Make your choice, princess.’ 

Inkubus

Who wouldn’t want him to sweep them off their feet and make them feel so good all the time? It would be impossible to resist his charm, especially with all of the magic he was able to hold, to use to influence anyone and everyone he desired. But she was the one special case that he had never expected to come upon. He spotted her taking a walk alone, the sway of her hips and the look in her eyes, he would have her, he would pass on his festering seed to live another life for 100 years within her. He needed to have her. 

What a surprise though, she wanted nothing to do with him. His magic, his aura, his charms, they all failed him. How would one like her be able to disregard his magic and just swat him away as if he were another typical pest? Pathetic, he needed to try harder. She continuously shot him down no matter what he did or how hard he tried, but he refused to believe she couldn’t stand him, so he decided to follow her and send her little gifts here and there. It was easy to find where she lived.

He would creep in the shadows of her place, whether it was when she was alone or when she had guests, but no matter who was there, they’d all think they were going insane. Seeing shadows from the corner of their eyes wasn’t normal, but they’d all ignore it until one day she snaps and loses her cool, crying out for him not to hurt her. She would beg for her life as he would reveal himself to her, hoping that she’d just see him and something would light up in her eyes and realize just how wrong she had been to reject his advances.

When he realizes that she tries to go for a weapon to protect herself with, he realizes the truth of it all; he cannot reach her and she would never accept him willingly. When it hits him, he’s appalled by the fact she wants nothing more than to get him out of her life, readily standing there with a kitchen knife as she cowers in the corner. He would have given her the world, why can’t she see that? Inkubus only saw red after that.

Why won't she see it? He would look down upon her with mercy, something that hadn't been done in so many centuries for the demon that it was completely foreign to him as it was said upon his tongue. His blade would reveal itself with a slick sound, his face no longer holding the affection it once did for her, and she knew that she had made a mistake. He watched and listened as she begged for her life, pleading with him to give her another chance, but he saw right through her desperate lies.

When he looked at her and saw the potential, he was almost disappointed that it would go to waste so easily. She was special, he thought as his hands weaved through her hair, yanking her up to meet his gaze so he could stare her in the face as his expression remained blank. “We could have been so much,” he would say as he sliced her throat open and watched the blood come streaming down her front. At least he would be able to bathe in this for later. 

Mayor Buckman

Lord in Heaven knows this man should not be cahootin’ with living people and falling head over heels for one, but there he was, completely smitten with her. She was going to be another side dish for the main course for this year's Jubilee, just like it had always been each year prior, but even his boys had noticed the change in him. Granny Boone had been so wrapped up in preparing for the feast that she hadn't even noticed her own husband's distance, that is until she noticed her. 

She was so pure and full of life that she had seemed more than willing to stay for the barbecue, the little detour had proven to be more exciting than she had anticipated, so she offered to even help around the town if they allowed it. Buckman was taken by that kind of offer, especially from a Yankee, it was unheard of and it wouldn't sway his mind. But the more he learned about her, the more she had spoken about her life, the mayor was strangely drawn to her like she was the one. 

It was a ridiculous idea since she was alive and very much younger than he, but no matter how much he tried to convince himself it was some sort of fever he had been suffering, anything that would easily explain the feelings he had been having. What he didn't expect was to come to the conclusion that he would fancy her. No one could know about this, but he wasn't making it very discreet the next morning. He would walk up to her, that large grin plastered to his face as he'd explain there was so much to do here in Pleasant Valley, all the things she could occupy her time with. She would thank him but feel rather uneasy by how touchy he'd get with his hand always placed on her shoulder.

The day after, he would have to tell her how he was feeling or else he'd lose her entirely to either her leaving or her being served up on a silver platter for his townsfolk. When he had caught her alone, away from her friends, he stuttered like a madman and felt so odd, it was a wonder he was able to speak at all. During this entire confession, the young woman stood there in uncomfortable silence and shifted slightly, already planning to leave as soon as she possibly could to avoid any more of this. When she didn't share Buckman’s views, he grew reserved and upset, curious as to why she would treat him like this, like some common man. He even explained there was something about her that he couldn't stop thinking about. 

She recoiled from his touch and he looked at her in confused disgust. How could he be so blind, she was nothing like him and she would never accept him or his way of life. He pleaded with her, tried to convince her to think otherwise, but the harsh words that followed did not make Buckman too happy. He looked at her in silence and then walked away; he couldn't find the words to tell her just how infuriated he had been. He was going to try and find a way for them to be together, whether she would have been alive or not, but he was willing to make it work. She was ungrateful.

Her time had come as she had been cornered, the rest of her friends dead and already being cooked for the Jubilee, where she had been on the ground, shaking like mad. She wanted her life to be spared, she wouldn't tell a soul about what transpired, she promised. Those promises always came up empty. Buckman looked down on the poor soul, annoyed at himself for once feeling pity for that wretched girl, but now he felt his power return once again as he stood over her, his trusty sword in his hand. It would have to be him to take her life, he wouldn't want it any other way. 

Doctor Andover

He had no time for trivial things such as infatuations and crushes on others, it would interfere with his work and it wouldn’t be a great idea to get anyone involved in his...complicated personal life. But when she walked through the door of the clinic, Andover didn’t expect much from the consultation, until she spoke to him. She was something else, that was for sure, and the phobia that brought her into the clinic was more than curable for Andover. He would have to lie though, to prolong her stay and keep her here with him, naturally, he would have to lie to his assistant’s as well for the benefit of keeping her around.

When she comes in to speak to the good doctor for several one on one meetings about her phobia, she eases into conversation with him and even feels she can trust him with what she’s suffered through. He feels the same, he feels so connected to her now that he felt as if no one else beyond this room existed but the both of them. How he imagined what she would feel like against his hands, how she would sound as they shared a moment together in secrecy. Andover craved it now, he wanted nothing but her. Soon after she had been placed in the Fear Chamber, he would watch her as she slowly drifted off into unconsciousness and he would be sure to have the room locked so he could just enjoy her presence in peace.

When her fears had been slowly getting in check, she would thank him and talk about leaving his facility. He wanted nothing more than to be with her for as long as possible while he helped her, aided her in getting better. She would only accept his help since she saw him as a professional, he would guide her to being better, feeling better. What she didn’t anticipate was that one day, he offered to pay for her room and board outside of the facility if it were to make her comfortable. It didn’t.

When she insisted that she didn’t need that, that she was leaving indefinitely, he only fought harder to keep her there, to stay near him. She was the one keeping him going with all of this insanity around him, especially when something greater was happening that he wasn’t fully aware of. Today was the day her treatment ended and she was packing her things when Doctor Andover appeared in the doorway. “You must come with me, I have one last thing for you for your therapy.” He led her to the room with the Fear Chamber, but she was so taken back when he pushed her inside, gassing her to sleep with a deadly amount.

She cried out to be released, she just wanted to go back home, but Andover was already committed to keeping her there for himself. He had made a deal with whatever creature fed from the patients’ fear, that he would get to keep her there with him in exchange for the others. He blindly and willingly accepted it. It was foolish but it was a deal he couldn’t go back on. Before she lost consciousness, she begged him to see reason, but now there had been no going back for Andover. 

After it had been done and she fell asleep, her hand slowly sliding down the front of the glass as she drifted, her fears came back twice as strong as her new fear developed into her subconscious, and it took the shape of Andover himself. Even in her slow and agonizing death, he would always be there for her, whether it was to torment her through her afterlife or just show up as some twisted guardian. He watched over her for weeks until he could no longer keep the body, but he would have her in her mind forever.   

[itsblosseybitch]

Griffin Dunne by Lynn Geller (INTERVIEW Magazine, May 1985)

At 29, Griffin Dunne has seen the movie business from many different perspectives. Born in New York City to Ellen Griffin Dunne and television producer-turned-writer Dominick Dunne, Griffin grew up in Los Angeles and is the nephew of Joan Didion and John Gregory Dunne. Eleven years ago, he returned to Manhattan to pursue an acting career and, after roles in Off-Broadway plays, television, and “An American Werewolf in London,” teamed up with Amy Robinson and Mark Metcalf [misprinted with an e at the end] to produce the film “Chilly Scenes of Winter,” in which he had a small part. He and Amy went on to produce “Baby, It’s You” and, most recently, Martin Scorsese’s “After Hours,” starring producer Griffin Dunne in the male lead. As if this weren’t enough responsibility, the past year has also included acting roles in the films “Johnny Dangerously” and this spring’s “Almost You.” 

Looking remarkably fit for such a busy man, Griffin strode into the Lion’s Head in Manhattan only fifteen minutes late and carrying a briefcase full of future projects.

LYNN GELLER: You come from a literary family--your aunt, uncle and father are writers--were there any actors before your generation?

Griffin Dunne: Well, my mother was an actress until she had children, meaning me. I was the first. She was raised on a ranch in Nogales, Arizona, and my grandfather sent her to school in the East. My father was an actor then and he met her at a play. Actually, she hated being an actress.

LG: I didn’t know your father had been an actor.

GD: He wanted to be an actor before he became a producer. He was a stage manager and actor, studying with Stanford Meisner, who ran the Neighborhood Playhouse. Meisner told him he would never be a leading man because he was too short. When I say short, I mean my height, five-seven, five-eight. He left the profession because he wanted to be a leading man, not a character midget, or whatever he thought he would be. This was in the pre-Dustin Hoffman days. He became a stage manager for live TV, everything from Howdy Doody to Playhouse 90 in the ‘50s. When I was two, he got a job in L.A. and that’s where I was brought up. 

LG: Is that home?

GD: Well, yeah, home is where the mother is, but I’ve lived in New York for eleven years.

LG: Why did you move here--you went to school in the East?

GD: I went to boarding school in the East [more specifically, Fay School in Boston, Massachusetts, based on a New York Times article from the -late ‘90s and the Alumni page] , a pre-prep school that was very repressive. Coats and ties, whippings--if you ever saw the Lindsay Anderson movie If... you know what I’m talking about. You stay through eighth grade and then hopefully you graduate and go somewhere like Exeter and Andover. 

LG: Did you?

GD: My response was to get the hell away from the East Coast and go to a liberal arts school in Colorado called Fountain Valley.

LG: I know about that school. That was supposed to be a very wild place.

GD: Well, I was hoping it would be. It was wild in my wildest imagination. You could grow you hair as long as you wanted and you were allowed to smoke cigarettes. You could pretty much get away with anything, but I did manage to get myself kicked out.

LG: What did you do?

GD: I smoked dope and a teacher saw me through a window. The next night I was going to appear in Othello, and I never got to do the play. 

LG: So you were acting at an early age. Was that because of your parents?

GD: No. I was planning to be a writer. But a guy who taught acting talked me into auditioning for Zoo Story, the Edward Albee play. I got the part and that was the end of that.

LG: How old were you when you got kicked out?

GD: I was 17 and almost finished. They wouldn’t let me graduate, which was really depressing. It was more depressing that I didn’t get to play Iago. They felt that my performance would be tainted by the fact that I had been kicked out and I might be unduly rewarded by applause.

LG: What did you think you might do after that?

GD: Be an actor. I finally got some work. I was in a movie called The Other Side of the Mountain.

LG: Then you came to New York?

GD: No, then I got a job on a television series called Medical Story. I had about ten lines. I played a doctor, stuffing an IV in Linda Purl’s veins [misprinted as Linda Pearl] and answering Meredith Baxter Birney when she came in and said, “What’s the diagnosis, David?” I’d memorized the diagnosis, which was complicated medical jargon. 

LG: What did you use for inner motivation?

GD: My major motivation was to say the words correctly. I figured if I did it like a real scientist, I’d pull off a real character coup. Then right as we were about to roll, the medical adviser on the show came over and said that the diagnosis wasn’t accurate, we had to change the description. They changed the lines and every time we’d go for a take, I couldn’t remember the lines and I’d clam up. The director would go, “Cut. What’s your problem? What is your problem?” I said I needed five minutes, so he said, “Okay, five minutes, the kid’s got five minutes.” I went into a little room and I was so nervous about ruining my career that when I went to light a cigarette, I set my lip on fire. So when I went back to give the diagnosis I hadn’t memorized in the first place, I lisped. The director was furious. He said, “Cut. What’s the accent? Are you doing an accent on me?” Finally, the actress, Linda Purl, took out one of my pens in my top pocket and without me knowing it, she wrote out the diagnosis on her arm, where I was to insert the IV. So when they said, “Roll ‘em,” I had no idea at first what my line would be and then I looked down at her arm and there it was. It was very sweet of her.

[Based on the available information I have, the Medical Story episode that Griffin Dunne was on was titled “Up Against The World” or “Us Against The World” depending on what you check. The episode is said to have aired December 4th, 1975. All I could find on the show was a promo on YouTube.]

LG: You must have fallen in love.

GD: I did, but we never got to say goodbye. So I got the lines out, but what I realized from that experience was...nothing. Absolutely nothing, but to have a cigarette in your mouth when you go to light one. Shortly after that I moved to New York and signed up at the Neighborhood Playhouse.

LG: Because your father had gone there?

GD: I didn’t know he’d gone there until I was already in there and he told me the Stanford Meisner/leading man story.

LG: While you were studying acting, did you work as a waiter?

GD: Yes. At Beefsteak Charlie’s for a limited engagement. At Joe Allen once for two weeks. I lied and said I was experienced and I clearly wasn’t. That was enough to get me the job at Beefsteak’s. I hung in the longest there--they liked my work.

LG: Then you would go on auditions? Is that what you do when you’re a waiter/actor?

GD: When you’re a waiter/actor with no agent, you read Backstage and go out for plays that you never see in ads for openings. They never appear as productions. I went to an audition for an original play once, written and directed by a woman with a long Russian name. She thought I was perfect for the part. It was the first time a director said, “You are going to be great, you’re it.” She told all the other actors to go and took me out for coffee. I couldn’t believe my luck--I’d just arrived in New York. She took me out, we talked intensely, and at some point I realized she was stark raving mad. She had this long scarf that dragged behind her picking up dirt and pizza crust. I looked closely at her and realized she was a bag lady. I realized that anyone can hold an open casting call, a trick I haven’t really employed yet as a way to meet new and exciting people. 

LG: How much does it cost to take an ad out? As much as a bag lady collects in a day?

GD: No, these people weren’t quite bag. They have apartments and enough money to be able to decide, is it Safeway tonight or an ad in Backstage? At some point, they just cross that line. 

LG: How did you get involved in producing?

GD: Well, Amy Robinson, Mark Metcalf and I were unemployed actors hanging out together. We were working on the play Cowboy Mouth, which we were going to do for ourselves and hopefully get a production. That never happened, but the three of us had a lot of energy together. Eventually that translated into our trying to get a movie off the ground. Amy loved the book Chilly Scenes of Winter by Ann Beattie, and we agreed. That became our first project. We were all frustrated at being out-of-work actors. At the time I was working at Radio City Music Hall selling popcorn. I carried around a big set of keys as the manager of the popcorn concession. I wasn’t getting a lot of feedback on my work.  

LG: Had you ever thought of producing before?

GD: I never had dreams of producing, but I was with Amy and Mark and what we wanted to do was much closer to what I wanted to do than what I was doing. It felt as good as acting. 

LG: How did you end up doing Baby It’s You?

GD: I was in Poland acting in a TV movie called The Wall. Amy was talking about the idea for the film before I left. It was loosely based on her life, about a middle-class girl who gets involved with one of her classmates, a guy from the other side of the tracks. While I was away, she got John Sayles involved. We discussed it over the phone from Poland, the conversations closely monitored by the hotel staff. God knows what they made of it. But I didn’t have too much to do with development. 

LG: You mean in terms of the story?

GD: More in terms of getting the development deal at the studio. Amy and I have a very good relationship. We both rely on each other’s opinions and support. We were both line producers on the film. Our job was to keep things rolling and to make sure that John Sayles had everything he needed. 

LG: Are you good at that?

GD: Yes, to my surprise. I never considered myself much of an organizer, but it turns out I’m good with money and at getting along with people, making sure that everyone has what they need and keeping those needs within the budget. 

LG: Let’s talk about some of the films you’ve been acting in recently. Have you seen Almost You yet?

GD: Yes. I liked it. The characters were incredibly human and sympathetic. And screwed up. Not homicidal--but normal, confused human beings. My character in particular was a very confused fellow. 

LG: That was a movie where someone approached you with a script. What made you decide to take it on?

GD: Well, Adam Brooks, the director, had a script he’d been telling me about when he was a script supervisor on Baby It’s You. One day, when I was living in a beach house with Brooke Adams, he came up with the producer, Mark Lipson, and the script. We had a great day at the beach. Brooke cooked this great meal. After they left, we read the script and thought it was really charming, funny. Brooke and I wanted to work together and this seemed perfect. We said yes, thinking, this sweet little picture is never going to get made anyway, but, of course, we’ll do it if it does. Ha ha ha. All we did was say yes, and Mark and Adam took the ball and ran with it. The next thing I knew, we had a start date.

LG: What was the time lapse between those two events?

GD: Six months. It was shot in February. Very quick--I was pleasantly surprised. 

LG: But at this point you’re no longer living in that beach house? 

GD: Six months is also a very. very long time. A lot can happen in that time. Brooke and I aren’t living together anymore, nor were we when we did Almost You.

LG: Wasn’t that hard?

GD: It was interesting. We get along very well. We’re good friends, and we were very professional. I think we both dreaded the idea of letting the crew think there was something more to this than there was. 

LG: Do you think people see you as wearing two hats now, actor and producer?

GD: It’s hard to tell. I don’t really know. I have noticed that scripts that are submitted to Doubleplay Productions that have a character that is anywhere from 20 to 35, they say, “This would be a good part for you.” I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a lure. 

LG: Well, aren’t you looking for movies to produce that you can act in?

GD: Whatever movies Amy and I decide to do, it’s totally collaborative. I can see doing a movie that I would rather produce than act in, but it would have to be very special, like Chilly Scenes of Winter or Baby, It’s You. But doing After Hours revitalized my interest in acting, it really inspired me. So my dream is to be able to continue producing movies with Amy that I can act in.

[chocolatemicenwhiskey]

Crossover (Side Fic): Dinner With the Devil

Series: NBC Hannibal/Fear Clinic (webseries)

Note: I am aware that the FEAR CLINIC movie has stated that Dr. Andover's first name is Peter. I personally go by the webseries specifically, waaay back before the good doctor was given a first name. @tranimation and I have been calling him "Victor Andover" for over a decade now and I'm stubborn and refuse to call him Peter. It just sounds...odd.

Whether grandiose or simple, Hannibal Lecter loved to entertain. Even though this was a three-person dinner party, it was only natural he went all out. Best way to size up his guests, though he wasn't in a murderous mindset tonight.

"I found your lecture on the nature of fear and phobias to be quite interesting," he said, pouring wine. "I'm sorry you didn't get more of the packed house you deserved."

Victor Andover chuckled, nodding in appreciation.

"I'm not surprised. I'm not as well known as others in the same field. Besides, there was some...controversy surrounding my methods," he said, sipping his wine. The pretty blonde woman at his side squeezed his hand affectionately.

"You do have one success," she said. "I never regressed."

Andover waved her off, sighing.

"Of course, that exposè that had been published didn't help. Makes me dislike the internet."

"It was an internet tabloid, Victor, you know that," Elizabeth went on. Hannibal raised an eyebrow as he walked to the kitchen to set out the main course.

"Exposè?" he repeated, returning to the dining and setting down what he had assured his guests to be roast lamb.

"That Tattlecrime website," Andover grumbled. "An anonymous story about the five patients during the start of my....tests."

Lecter nodded, understanding.

"The writer for that propaganda is well known here. Anyone with a hint of scandal to their name has been slandered, Doctor, not just you."

"Oh I'm well aware of who tipped the website off," Victor said, now through his third glass of wine of the evening.

"Victor, you've had enough," Owens said, taking her husband's wine glass from him. "Eat."

"I don't mind," fibbed Lecter, getting the older man a glass of water. "Should you need to vent, well...we're both psychiatrists here."

"Elizabeth, you know as well as I do that Villatoro--"

"Villatoro hasn't been seen in over a year, dear."

Hannibal ate his meal, watching his guests like they were a mildly entertaining television program.

"Villatoro?"

"A former orderly we used to work with. Horrid man," Owens said.

"Shoulda let him burn..." Andover growled.

Hannibal smiled as his guests finally settled into the meal, politely refusing when Owens had asked for the recipe.

"Like a magician never reveals his secrets, nor do I as a chef," he said. "It always brings people back for more."

"I understand," Elizabeth said. "But thank you for having us."

Hannibal nodded, helping her into her coat before shaking Andover's hand.

"I hope we can speak again very soon, Dr. Andover."

"A pleasure, Dr. Lecter."

[ilovemyfeetorthotics-blog]

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[qckinetixandoverlawrence]

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[dennlawgroup]

What To Do If You Need A Wrongful Death Lawyer

Death is a hard thing to face. But sometimes, a death may be due to negligence. This is where a wrongful death law firm comes into play. These lawyers represent people who have lost loved ones due to negligence. If you need a wrongful death lawyer, read this article for tips on how to find one.

1. What is the difference between a wrongful death lawyer and a personal injury lawyer?

Wrongful death lawyers are those who specialize in cases that involve the death of a person. Personal injury lawyers are those who specialize in cases that involve injuries to a person. If you need a wrongful death lawyer, you should speak with a personal injury lawyer as well. If you need a personal injury lawyer, you should speak with a wrongful death lawyer as well.

2. How to find a wrongful death lawyer.

If you are looking for a wrongful death lawyer, you should first look for a lawyer who specializes in this area of law. You should also ask for referrals from friends and family members who have had similar experiences. You should also make sure that the lawyer you are considering is licensed in your state. You should also make sure that the lawyer you are considering is willing to take your case. Next, you should try to find out how much it will cost you to hire a lawyer. It is also a good idea to ask for a free consultation before you hire a lawyer. If the lawyer is willing to offer a free consultation, he or she will likely be more than willing to take your case.

If you have lost a loved one due to the negligence of another, you may be able to seek compensation for their death. The first step is to file a wrongful death claim. This can be done through a lawsuit or through a claim with the state. If you are pursuing the claim through a lawsuit, you should seek the help of a wrongful death attorney. You may be able to recover a lump sum of money or a monthly payment for life. If you are pursuing a claim with the state, you should file a claim with the state's workers' compensation board.

If you need a wrongful death lawyer, it is important to know that there are a few different types of wrongful death lawsuits. The first type of wrongful death lawsuit is a survival claim. This type of lawsuit is filed when someone’s death is caused by the negligence of another person. This could be caused by a car accident or medical malpractice. Another type of wrongful death lawsuit is a medical malpractice lawsuit. This type of lawsuit is filed when a doctor or nurse makes a mistake or commits malpractice. If this was the cause of your loved one’s death, you should file a lawsuit. The last type of wrongful death lawsuit is a product liability lawsuit. This type of lawsuit is filed when a person is injured because of a defective or unsafe product. It is important to file a lawsuit when you are dealing with a wrongful death claim.

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