#lulu talks shakespeare

[libraryleopard]

i enjoy how so many productions of twelfth night agree that orsino is a man who lounges. he will recline! he will drape himself! and by god, he may even fling himself to the ground!

[entamewitchlulu]

i don't think everyone gets the "I want to make something batshit insane" post but truly the idea is that I want to make something that will make about 80% of the people who engage with it think "what drugs was the creator on?" and the other 20% are rabidly obsessed with writing essays about minute scenes and off handed visual metaphors and everyone has a completely different interpretation

[kochana-lulu]

i never grew up from hiding in the bathroom in public places sorry <3

[darkpeacemusic]

𝚂𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜!

Slendrina is the oldest child out of the Slender Pact, having died at the age 18 during the experiment 84 series which consisted of herself, her father, mother and her four uncles.

She was later separated from her family after the hospital where she was experimented on caught fire and destroyed the building, making her and her mother left behind (Her mother had died due to the smoke and her father and uncles escaped without her knowing)

She would spend years looking for her father, hoping he was still alive.

In 2015, she would reunite with her father but she wasn't very happy to see him.

She ended up yelling at him for leaving her behind when the building burnt down, leaving her to wander the earth for years.

It would take many months for Slendrina to forgive her father for everything.

She would later forgive her father after he explained that he didn't mean to leave her behind and he tried to go back for her before Trenderman stopped him.

She and her father have the closest bond out of the Slender Pact.

She met some of the proxies at the time who were Masky, Hoodie, Cat Hunter, Kate, Charlie, Toby, LJ, Kagekao, Ally, and Ben.

Jeff, Charlie, Lucy, Ben, Lily, and Lulu are her most closest "siblings".

Though she used to be jealous of Nightmare Ally due to Ally and Slenderman's father-daughter, she now thinks Nightmare Ally as her little sister.

She also has a very close bond with one of her youngest cousins, Sally.

She dresses in a Victorian gothic style.

Like her father, her favorite music is classical.

She loves to read and her favorite books are anything by Edgar Allen Poe, William Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, and Roald Dahl.

Her favorite shows are the Addams Family (1960), Ruby Gloom, Hazbin Hotel, and The Haunting on Bly Manor.

Her killing style is similar to her father's.

Jeff, Lily, Lulu, Lucy, Ben, Ally, and Charlie all call her "big sister" sometimes which Slendrina finds it adorable.

She is usually seen reading in the library room, playing with the kid proxies, hanging out with her father, or down in the basement, helping the medical proxies.

She hates it when her "siblings" are upset and does her best to comfort them.

She regards LJ, Jason, Candy Pop, Hobo Heart, and Jill as her best friends.

She talks in a whispery kind of voice, almost similar to Fluttershy's from My Little Pony.

She calls Slenderman "dad", "father", or "papa".

She doesn't like Will and EJ due to them secretly being Zalgoids and doesn't trust them very much.

She loves anything by Tim Burton and Stephen King.

Her teleportation skills aren't as great as her father which is why she can't teleport like her father can.

She is secretly a fan of Monster High and Ever After High after Nina introduced to her when she came over to the Slender Manor one day.

She wears pearl necklaces and bracelets.

She loves anything vintage and her room is filled with vintage stuff.

Most of her dresses were designed by her uncle Trender.

She suffers from depression and PTSD.

She is never seen without her teddy bear as it was a gift by her father when she was 6.

[g0ttal0ve101]

TWIRLS MY HAIR GAYLY :3

1, 3, 4, and 22 for Lulu, Evelyn, and Sam :33

BABYGIRLS….!!!!!!!!!!!

1. Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who's the favorite?

Lucian - yes. always have and always will. he has one or two that he keeps by his pillows and the rest are just TANGLED in the blankets. you ain’t sitting on his mattress without suffocating at least one teddy bear with your ass 😭 - his favorite stuffy is a periwinkle bunny named lala :3 (but we all know his true favorite is kai 🤫)

Evelyn - why would she need a stuffed animal when she has her girlfriend to keep her warm? 🤭

Sam - YES. don’t let him fool you. he will hide them whenever someone comes to visit but TRUST me when i say he has a whole collection of kitty plushies. only cats tho. he loves cats.

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

If you were to ask Lucian, he’d probably say something along the lines of this: “he’s the nicest, cutest, sweetest boy in the whole wide world. you’d be jealous if you ever saw him. :3”

Evelyn would be more than happy to tell you a full synopsis on her girlfriend but she usually goes with a simple answer like this: “She’s just a doll. Cuter than a button and prettier than a dove.” (ok Shakespeare 🔥)

haha. Sam? haha. hahaha. um. heads up for the future NEVER ASK HIM THIS!! YOU WILL BE STUCK THERE FOR SIX HOURS. but something like this: “she’s stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, radiant, captivating, charming, elegant, striking, dashing, alluring, exquisite, lovely, mesmerizing, enchanting, irresistible, fabulous, charismatic, fashionable, incredible, incomparable, graceful, appealing, ravishing, sophisticated, magnetic, unforgettable, impressive, flawless, timeless, enthralling, divine, splendid, spellbinding, winsome, jaw-dropping, delightful, fetching, sensational, regal, opulent, sublime, statuesque, dreamy, mesmeric, sumptuous, admirable, dazzling, impeccable, ravishing, luminous, polished, remarkable, enigmatic, unblemished, tantalizing, unforgettable, classy, effortless, opulent, unparalleled,glamorous, immaculate, head-turning, exotic, bewitching, radiating, coveted, commanding, unrivaled, supreme, glamorous, unassailable, unmatched, enthralling, captivating, bewitching, unblemished, spectacular, resplendent, spellbinding, enigmatic, stunning, distinguished, unfading, irresistible, striking, vivacious, regal,spellbinding, impressive, majestic, ethereal, unforgettable, incomparable, breathtaking, sumptuous, resplendent, el-”

4. Do they look good in red?

Lucian - yeah but he looks the best in blue :3

Evelyn - yes she looks good in all colors!! green is definitely her color tho :3

Sam - MEOW MEOW MEOW YES!!! :3

22. Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What's their go-to?

Lucian - he doesn’t like it. HE LOVES IT. call him babe and he’s down for the count. if he’s fond of someone, he’ll probably refer to them as sweetheart/sweetie or honey/hun. but if we’re talking about his BOO……baby every name in the book. kai will not escape them. his go-to is definitely honey though :3

Evelyn - she likes being called pet names by women lmao. men DNI 😡😡. she only calls violet any sort of pet name and it’s usually “darling” or “dear.” her go-to is 100000%…..DARLING DEAR though bc she’s British!! (ok Edgar Allen Poe 🔥)

Sam - he’s on his KNEES for a pet name. while he doesn’t particularly refer to others with any sort of pet names in fear they won’t like it, he does abbreviate a lot of people’s names. for example: riley = rie, lucian = lu, evelyn = ev, etc. if he DOES call anyone a pet name it will be riley and only riley. he leans more toward “baby/babe” :3

[falsebooles123]

Finding The First Gay Kiss - Diary of a Big Ole Gay 12/19/22

Hey Whores I meant to do this on Saturday but I'm lazy.

I did a lot of random stuff which included figuring out where I can watch all 130+ films on my list which includes quite a few on HBO Max

(like seriously why do they have Jean Cocteau Orpheus Trilogy on there is there some Gay Arthouse section that I don't know about)

so Lets Get Into It

Twelth Night (1910) dir. Charles Kent, Eugene Mullin

Twelth Night is arguable the Most Gay of the Shakespear films so lets watch all of them right. This one is a very basic and not that homoerotic. If I'm watching Shakespear I want Bishonen Drama

(Why am I turned On? That's A Guy)

Pandora's Box {Die Buchse Der Pandora} (1929) dir. G.W. Pabst

Based on the Lulu Duology by Frank Wedekind, Pandora's Box is a "Sex Tragedy" that is basically a moral tale. Its a story of degradation essentially if your familer with that fucked up hentai Emergence then you have the concept.

We follow a women named LULU, (not to be confused with lola lola??? from Blue Angel). who is basically a tomie type everyone wants to fuck her and everyone uses her at the same time.

A series of awful things happen and she eventually gets murdered by the literal Jack the Ripper, which if that isn't a metaphor for male sexual entitlement and slut shaming I don't know what is.

These morality tales feel very similar to other films we've seen like Manslaughter! and I don't Want to Be A Man where we have this contrast between this "Wild Child", a decadent hedonistic empowered woman, and her more conservative daddy dom who is like totally not a fascist hes just obsessed with the fall of rome.

Its hard not to see these films as fascist propaganda against the notion of decadence and degenarates and the aspects of queerness within them feel like they are meant to codify those aspects. After all the queers as hedonist fops isn't a hot take by any means.

I still like this film and I don't necessarily think of it as fascist propaganda but its also hard not to see these notions of decadence and hedonism from this lens or at least this conservative moral position.

What I mean is that its hard for me to understand the author as believing these things. Personally I love that all these women are telling men to fuck off and being on some hoe shit.

The Wild Party (1929) dir. Dorothy Arzner

This film is on its surface a story of Clara Bow being a Wild Child albiet one with actually depth and its her lack of responsibilty and immaturity thats criticized not the fact that she likes to drink and drive cars. She has a very hot and cold relationship with a man which is so emblamatic of this era of romance and overall its a lot of straight nonsense which is not the last time your'll here me say that.

What Makes this different is that Arzner is a lesbian

so even though this film is very very very straight on the surface its kinda gay visual, this shit has the lesbian gaze. We Stan

Blood and Sand (1922) dir. Fred Niblo

That Gif is from the 1941 film but its also as heterosexual.

The reason why this is on the list is because on the talk page for WINGS (1927) some guy mentions how this film had a gay kiss in it. The reason why noone mentions it is because 5 minutes in some dude kisses a dead guy on the cheek and then its another 120 minutes of a guy being so straight its boring. Wow i'm a man I can't stop falling dick first into some vagina that doesn't belong to my wife.

You don't even get to be gay for Rudolf Valentino in this because its so boring and blandly shot.

Murder! (1930) dir. Alfred Hitchcock

So this film is not very gay, its definetly cool and I'm kinda glad that I get to watch Hitchcock Films for this project.

Hitchcock was kinda weird when it came to gay shit. He loved to put these queer coded characters and he constantly employed or involved himself with other queer persons, (the writer for Jamacia Inn and The Birds was suposedly Bisexual).

The reason why this is on the list is as a primer for Hitchcocks more explicity queer coded villians, in this film it is a female impersonater who kills because it is about to be revealed that he is "half-caste", (the version I watched had spanish subtitles and the translation was 'Mestiza' so its pretty clear the tone of the term).

Hitchcock has this obsession with it which totally doesn't come off as closeted gay homophobia. So expect more of him to come.

Morocco (1930) dir. Josef Von Sternberg

Yes we finally get to all the famous gay moments in history, lets get into it.

so the scene in question comes in very early into the film where Marlene Dietrich, (who is also Sapphic), dresses up in tails for a Caberet Act. As we all know caberet is super gay and in her butch mode she steals a kiss from a women. The film itself doesn't make a big deal of it and in general its very much lesbian bating for a straight male audience.

On the other hand this film in my mind has a bisexual gaze, its a lot of men and women pining over each other and being sort of gender expansicve??? Like I can't explain what makes a film Bisexual but this is one of them.

(my definition is that everyones hot for no reason and everyones just kinda slutty??? like you just want to kiss every single person openly on their sweet little mouth.)

Madchen In Uniform (1931) dir. Carl Froelich, Leontine Sagan

So one of the first films with an all female cast this is also the most explicetly gay film I've ever seen. Like pretty much only Anders die al Aldern comes close and that one literally has a lecture by Magnus Hirschfield.

this one features a scene where this girls teacher/matron kisses her on the lips to say goodnight instead of on the head and wow that gay. Like this film said Mommy this film said praise kink. This film is honestly a kinky lesbians wet dream, (can women have wet dreams we asked 10 men).

this film is just generally queer but strangly enough it also got a lot of criticism for its anti-authotarian messaging. Regardless I found this shit on youtube go watch it.

Various Comedies.

On this list is also Doughboys (1930), Sidewalks of New York (1931), The Play House (1921). There not in the possible bit queer but I watch them as part of getting background on the whole Role Reversal Drag Trope.

Everything Else

Mabel and Fatty's Wash Day (1915) dir Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle

Hidden (2020) dir Jafar Panahi

The Kiosk (2020) dir Alexandra Pianelli, which is actually a really lovely documentary which you should find if you can, this is not to be confused with Kiosk(2013) dir Anete Melece, which is a very lovely animated short that you should definetly seen.

Anyway whores I'm gonna talk to you in about a weeks time so stay frosty.

[whoslaurapalmer]

good laura content today so i’m flipping through the book again and still being consumed about them literally saying ‘the evil that men do’

laura’s aunt, during the investigation – “‘“the evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft buried with their bones,”’ she misquoted, but giggling lightly, added, ‘although her poor bones aren’t buried yet. but we must be truthful, even about the dead. it wasn’t money principally with laura, it was people, if you know what I mean. she was always running around, doing favors, wasting her time and strength on people she scarcely knew.’”

mark, when waldo dies – “the malice had died with him and laura remembered that he had been kind. it is generosity, waldo said, not evil, that flourishes like the green bay tree.”

[justthehiddleswrites]

Homesick | Tom Hiddleston & OFC (Lyla Brooks) | Platonic

A/N: This was for this lovely anon request:  I have separation anxiety and have recently gone from living with a dog and three family members and seeing people every day to living alone and not seeing my family and it’s really not easy 🥺 it’s not practical for me to get a pet and I’m an hour away from home. How would Tom help the reader through a situation like this? He seems very wise and as if he would know what to do! Maybe include lots of cuddling and watching things that Tom has starred in? It didn’t quite come out this way, but hopefully you still enjoy it.  

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston & Lyla Brooks (Platonic)

Summary: Lyla Brooks accepted a prestigious apprenticeship with the Royal Shakespeare Company in the costuming department.  Which unfortunately meant leaving behind her mom, dad, and beloved cat, Snickers.  Three months into her move and Lyla is not doing well. She misses home and she worries about her dad. But she is not the only worrying.  

Trigger Warnings: very vague mentions of Alzheimer’s, some light angst, some light fluff.

MY TAGLISTS ARE OPEN, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WISH TO ADDED! THANK YOU FOR SUPPORTING MY WRITING!

-

“Okay, Mom.” Lyla sniffled into the phone, doing her best to hide her sadness. “I miss you too. Give my love to Dad. And Snickers. And Lulu.” Her chin dropped towards her chest as her mind wander. “No, I’m fine, Mom. Just allergies. Yes, I’m taking my — I got to go. Talk to you soon.” She hung up the phone before she completely broke down.

In the colder air of London, Lyla’s tear wet her cheeks and chin, chilling the skin. She pulled her thin sweater around her body, protecting from the cooler weather. Having moved three months ago from the West Coast, Lyla struggled with a proper fall and winter wardrobe for London. 

When she entered her tiny apartment, Lyla sunk into her secondhand sofa and listened to nothing while staring at her boxes of books stacked against the wall next to the unassembled bookcases she purchased. Unpacking was not her priority. Surviving was. 

Lyla never expected to move this far away from home. But when a golden opportunity to apprentice with the Royal Shakespeare Company Costuming Department came up, her mother practically put her on the plane herself.

“This is your dream, Lyla.” Marjorie Brooks said to her daughter as she read the letter. “If you weren’t going to accept, then why apply?”

“I never thought I would get an offer.” Lyla stared down at the letter on Royal Shakespeare Company letterhead. “I can’t you and Dad—”

“—will do just fine.” Marjorie interrupted. “I will make sure he goes to his appointments and takes his meds.”

Lyla sighed. Her mother still worked full time at the textile factory in town. When her father started acting “distracted”, she turned her focus on making sure he took his medication and made all his appointments. In doing so, she turned down an internship with a prestigious clothing company in New York, without even telling her parents. 

“But Snickers..” She pulled the orange tabby cat onto her lap. “He needs me.” 

Marjorie frowned at Lyla. “Lyla Marie Brooks, this is not going to be New York all over again. You’re going and that is the end of it.”

Lyla sat there, slack-jawed, as her mother headed to the kitchen.

A sharp knock on her door rudely interrupted Lyla’s spiral of self-pity and loathing. She groaned and figured if she waited long enough, the person on the other side of the door would leave.

“Lyla, I’m not leaving.” Tom called out from the hallway outside her apartment. “So get off the sofa and answer the door.” 

She grumbled the entire way to the door and opened it up to see Tom smiling sheepishly at her. “How are so fucking cheerful at 5 in the evening?”

“Hello to you too.” Tom shoved his hands into the pockets of faded black jeans. He stared at her for a moment. “Did you forget?”

Lyla’s brow furrowed at Tom. “Forget what?” She combed her fingers through her hair, tangling her light brown locks. 

“Our date.” Tom smiled, running his fingers through his recently shorned ginger curls, now even more curly than when Lyla first met him. 

“Daaaattteeee….” she drew out the word as if she drawled it her memory would come back.

Tom chuckled a bit. “Your bookshelves. That you bought last weekend. And I dragged up three flights of stairs. That you promised to put…” He stepped into Lyla’s apartment and spied the unopened boxes and smirked. “…together. What happened?”

“I forgot.” A hint of redness tinted her cheeks. More like a complete lack of wanting to do anything except hop on the next plane out of here and back home to hug my cat, my dog and my parents, she thought.

“Clearly.” Tom clapped his hands together. “Well then, let’s get to work.”

It took you ten minutes to find the tools and within 15 minutes, Tom put together both bookshelves together and installed on either side of your TV.

“See? That didn’t take long at all.” He moved beside her, smiling. “Thank you for the help.”

Lyla snorted. “I handed you a screwdriver and held a board.” 

“Exactly. Help.” Tom gave her a side hug. “Ready to load them up?” He already moved towards the boxes. 

“Um… sure.” She pulled open one of the boxes. “I unpack and you put them on the shelves?”

“Sounds like the best plan.” He reached out his hand for the books. 

Twenty minutes later, the shelves were full and the boxes empty. Lyla’s eyes teared up a bit, feeling slightly more at home. She wiped at her face. 

“Are you alright?” Tom’s brow furrowed as he looked at her. 

“I’m fine. Just the dust.” She sniffled and pulled herself together. She glanced outside. “Oh look, it’s dark. You should be on your way.”

Tom glanced out where dusk was barely setting in. He looked at Lyla and then at her apartment. He had come over a handful of times in the past two months and not much change except for the takeaway containers in the trash. He worried, but didn’t feel comfortable pushing the issue. 

“You’re right. Don’t want to say out too.” He headed to the door. “Some of us are getting together on Friday for pints. Would you like to join us?”

“I’ll think about it.” She smiled at him. 

“Good. I’ll remind you. And send you the information.” Tom opened the door but leaned in for a one last hug. “Please come out.” He whispered before taking his leave. 

Lyla sighed as the door clicked shut. Her heart and head a mix of emotions as she headed in to shower and then settle onto the couch with a book, cup of tea, and leftover Indian food.

-

The rest of the week had been a blur of fittings, fabric shopping, and costume repairs. Lyla had little time to think about home. She took her lunch break to Facetime her mom back home. 

“Hey, mom.” She smiled into her phone. 

“Hey, sweetie. How is life in glamorous London?”

“Great!” she lied. “I’ve made lots of friends. Going out. Hardly a dull moment! How’s Snickers?”

Marjorie chuckled. “Still moping. He misses you. Your bed is going to be covered in his hair by the time you come home for the holidays.”

Lyla’s lip trembled for a moment. “That silly cat. You tell him his mom is disappointed in him. “

There was a small meow in the background. 

“I think he heard you.” 

“Is that Bubby?” Lyla overheard her dad in the background.

“Dad?” She watched as her dad shouldered his way into frame.

“Bubby!” He smiled a warm smile. “Have you seen my camera? I can’t find it anywhere.”

“You are not asking her that! She doesn’t know. She’s been away for three months.” Marjorie argued.

“But she knows everything.” He turned back towards the phone. “Don’t you, Bubby?”

Lyla had to fight back tears. “Try the pocket of your coat, Dad. The green one you wore to the zoo.” 

She watched as her dad toddled off and then heard him screaming. He came running back. “YOU FOUND IT!” He gave Marjorie a shove with his shoulder. “I told you she would know.”

“Yes, dear. Can I finish my conversation?” 

“I’m not even here.” He walked away. 

“I can come home.” Lyla blurted out.

“He’s fine, sweetie. You are not coming home.” 

“I can book a fli—”

“You are staying put, and that’s all there is to say about it.” Marjorie said sternly. Lyla knew when her mom said “that’s all there is to say about it.” There was no more discussion.

“Yes, Mom. I got to get back to work. Talk to you tomorrow.” 

She hung up the phone. It took the entire walk back to the theater to stop crying. Everyone else in the costuming department noticed but didn’t say a word. Alice, the other apprentice, set a cup of tea near Lyla. 

“Homesick?”

Lyla glanced up at Alice’s bright green eyes and concerned face. She nodded.

“And my dad has these memory problems. I was the one who helped and my mom works full time. And my cat, Snickers, misses me.” Lyla sobbed softly. “I never lived away from home before.”

Alice sat down next to Lyla and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I remember when I left for university. I cried every day for two weeks. And every time I come home and left again.”

“Really?” 

Alice nodded. “I used to wear sunglasses everywhere. Not the most fashionable look indoors.” She giggled. “But then I found things made university home. A sandwich shop like the one I used to eat at. A new pub to go to with friends. It just takes time.” 

Lyla grabbed the cup of tea and sipped. “There was this pork schnitzel sandwich at this local diner. My dad would take me there on Sundays. They put this gravy on it.” She sighed. “I think I’m going to head home, if you don’t mind.”

Alice nodded. “I’ll let Anders know. See you on Monday.” she hesitated before giving Lyla a quick hug. “You have my number. Call my anytime.”

Lyla nodded, gathered her things, and headed home. She grabbed a pint of ice cream and headed to her bedroom, crying.

Tom whistled as he headed into the costuming department. He had a sneaking suspicion Lyla would duck out on his invitation. 

“Oh, Mr. Hiddleston!” Alice perked up as he walked in. “Your fitting isn’t until next Tuesday.” 

Tom’s brow quirked. “I’m not… I was looking for Lyla Brooks.”

Alice smirked. “She left early today.” She shrugged her shoulders. “She wasn’t feeling well.”

“Oh dear. I hope she feels better.” Tom sheepishly tucked his hands into his pockets. He turned to head out.

“Wait!” Alice grabbed his arm. “I think there is something you could do to help.” 

-

Lyla woke up from her late afternoon nap to continuous knocking on her door.

“For fuck sakes, go away!” She yelled as she peeked through the hole to see Tom standing there. Lyla fumbled with the lock. “Tom, what are you doing… SHIT! The pub. I f—”

“Forgot?” He smiled at her. “I am sensing a pattern. I heard you weren’t feeling well and left early.”

She grew self-conscious. “It’s just a cold. I’ll be right as rain by Monday. No need to worry.” She coughed for effect.

“But I do worry.” He raised his shoulders. “I can’t help it.” Tom held up a greasy paper bag. “Pork schnitzel sandwich. With gravy.” He pointed to the bag. “For two.”

“Alice, I’m going to—”

“Take it easy on her. She worries too.” He cautiously stepped into her apartment. “I remember missing home.”

Lyla nodded, fighting back. “How old were you?” She went to the kitchen and grabbed some plates for the sandwiches. 

Tom set the bag on her small table. “Seven.” Lyla’s mouth dropped open. “Boarding school is pretty common over here.” 

“Did you cry?”

Tom nodded. “But it got better. I made friends. Created a home away from home.”

She inhaled the scent of the sandwich and broke down. “I miss it so much. I miss them.” 

Tom wrapped his arms around her and pulled Lyla against his chest. “I know. It hurts.”

She sobbed for she didn’t know how long, leaving two wet spots on Tom’s sweater. “I’ve ruined your sweater.” She mumbled, pulling back. 

“I have seven more at home just like it, don’t worry.” Tom grinned down at her. “Feel better getting all that out?”

She nodded, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve. “Sorry for the outburst.”

“Nonsense, what are friends for?” Tom commented. “Let’s eat and why don’t you tell me all about home and your family. I have found talking about it makes it easier to deal with.”

Lyla sighed and sat down as Tom handed her a sandwich. She took a bite and moaned. “It tastes like home.” 

Tom took a big bite of his own sandwich. “Oh, that is fantastic.” He took another big bite and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

Lyla giggled for the first time in a long time. “I told Alice it was the best.” She settled back into her chair. “So you want to hear about my family.” 

“I want to hear everything.” Tom grinned.

-

Several hours later, Tom and Lyla were still chatting over empty plates and full cups of coffee. Tom glanced at his phone. 

“If I stay much longer, I might turn into a pumpkin.” Tom wiped his hands and stood.

Lyla caught the time. “Oh my god, I took your whole evening. The pub, your friends.”

“I’ll catch them next time. Besides, I spent time with a friend who needed me more.” 

Lyla walked him to the door and hugged Tom tightly. “Thank you. I needed this.” 

He squeezed her hard. “I am here if you ever need to cry or talk or just stare at the wall.” Tom chuckled. “Do you feel better?”

“Much.”

“Then mission accomplished. And next time, I fully expect you to come out with me. To an actual place. That serves food. I only make house calls for emergencies.”

Lyla grinned and giggled. “Deal. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Tom opened the door. “Goodnight, Lyla.”

“Goodnight, Tom.” 

He gave a little wave before heading down the hallway and down the stairs. Lyla watched from her window as Tom stepped out onto the sidewalk. He turned and gave her a small smile and waved before heading down the street towards the Tube station.

Lyla grabbed her phone and sent a text to her mom. 

Mom, I made a new friend today. And you will never guess who it is. 

[villainousshakespeare]

Bobby’s Playdate Part 2

Part 1

The pandemic is keeping Tom idling in London by himself. One positive is that wearing the mask helps him avoid recognition, allowing him to wander in the park with his dog, Bobby. On one of their walks, Bobby becomes smitten with a dog named Lulu and Tom is equally enchanted by her human. Can the Hiddleston men manage to find a way to see the lovely ladies again?

Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Chapter 2 of4

Rated M - Pandemic, Fluff, Quarantine, Masks, Adorable Puppies, Meet Cute, Second Part May (will) Contain Smut

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere, from-hel-i-with-love, @sweetsigyn, @fictiondoesitbetter, @ms-cellanies @evieplease @viviennes-tears @turniptitaness @cynic-spirit @spooky1980 @ghostypau @viviennes-tears @lady-loki-ren

I am so sorry I took so long to update this! First I was distracted by a super busy week, and then I decided to rework what I had in store for it. It took a while to redo, but I have decided to make it a 4 part story. Hope you enjoy, and that the wait was worth it!

The day had started out like every other since the lock down began. Leia had slept late, having no where to go. A cold, wet kiss on her nose from Lulu woke her up when the pup could no longer wait to be let out and grumbling she had taken her out for a quick walk up and down the block. After two cups of coffee and some melon, Leia had realized that after three months of enforced solitude, both she and her dog had gotten decidedly surly. It was time to get out, even if it was only to the local park.

Lulu’s excitement when she took out the little pink and white checked dress had been enough to put a smile on Leia’s face. Really, the small dog was a ridiculous creature, but she could be such a bundle of sunshine. After they were both outfitted – Lulu in her dress and Leia in a comfy outfit and mask, they made their way to the nearby park, enjoying a leisurely stroll around the newly green paths. She wished that Lulu was not too timid to play in the dog run, but after spending a year in the shelter the poor thing was terrified of other dogs.

That was why she was so surprised when Lulu’s tale began to wag excitedly. Normally she would have been cowering and whimpering in fear at the sound of another dog approaching, but for once her reaction was completely different. She jumped up from where she had been snuggling on Leia’s lap and perked up her ears, tongue lolling out happily. When the chocolate spaniel came trotting around the bend, she even jumped of Leia and strained at the leash to meet him.

Keeping a tight hold on Lulu’s leash, Leia let her eyes travel up the lead attached to the strange dog. It was quite a long trip, as it happened, past a pair of long legs in torn jogging pants, a faded shirt that would once have been bright blue, and a plain black mask until she got to a set of smiling blue eyes that made her heart stop.

“I’m sorry,” the man said, “I promise he is completely friendly.”

She had known who he was instantly, of course. No face mask could disguise those cheek bones, the copper curls that brushed his collar, or the baby blues that had sent a million fan girls swooning. If she had had any doubts, one word from that sinful voice, a verbal caress of polite friendliness, would have stamped it out. She had seen almost all of his movies, after all, and quite a number of his promotional appearances as well.

“It’s okay, so is she,” she replied struggling to keep her voice normal and grateful for the mask that hid her stunned initial gape. “You know, she’s usually quite shy, but she seems to like him! May I pet him?”

And then Tom Hiddleston –  The Tom Hiddleston! – had sat down on the bench next to her while she petted Bobby and struck up a casual conversation! She had kept her eyes on the pups at first, afraid that if she looked at him, he would see the excitement and intimidation in her eyes. He introduced himself, needlessly, of course, and she gave him her name in a kind of daze. She realized that he had only provided his first name and had the quick flash of insight that he might be enjoying the idea of anonymity. If that were the case, she would not want to spoil it for him by gushing. Uncertain of what to do, she let the obvious joke about her name lead her to mentioning Marvel characters. That way, she decided, he would have a segue to talking about his career should he want to. When he let it slide and quickly changed the subject, she decided that her assumption must have been correct.

Which was absolutely fine with her! She was sitting and talking to Tom Hiddleston! While she would, of course, love to pick his brain about Loki, or Shakespeare, or any of a dozen projects, she was more than happy to listen to him discuss his dog in that proud pappa voice. By the time she had told him the story behind Lulu’s dress excitement she was reasonably settled and could actually manage to look him in the eye without blushing.

She had met a few famous people in her time as a London tour guide, and many of them had been a colossal let down. Tom was not one of them. He was everything she had ever imagined or hoped he would be. Kind, funny, clever, a little prone to talk on about any subject he happened on, but in all a delightful conversation partner. She was disappointed but not surprised when he had to leave, but she didn’t want to be too greedy; it was already one of the most magical afternoons of his life. When he mentioned running into them again, she almost squealed with excitement, just barely managing to keep her face impassive.

Thus began a fairy tale of month for Leia and Lulu. After two days of rain, during which she was certain he would forget all about her, they had found the boys again at the same spot. Leia half wondered if she were simply dreaming, but if so, she had no desire to wake up. They met up with Tom and Bobby most days, walking for hours sometimes as they discussed London, their childhoods, school. She learned quickly that he changed the subject instinctively whenever anything came up that might lead to his career. She could respect that. It must be hard, she thought, being always in the public eye. For her own part, Leia tacitly decided to keep the subject of her book a secret. After all, a fantasy story based on Norse Mythology, with Loki playing a leading role, was bound to bring up the sort of conversation he obviously wished to avoid.

As time went on, she began to forget he was a movie star and just think of him as her friend, insane as that struck her when she stopped to look at it. Oh, she was still absurdly attracted to him, but it was no longer for his stunning character portrayals or teasing banter with interviewers. No, the teasing banter she was interested in now was much more personal for her. He was delightful company, unfailingly polite, quick with a wickedly funny comment or a profound musing on life. In short, Leia was well and truly smitten. Hopelessly, she thought with a sigh.

When he invited her to his home, she could barely believe it. A casual acquaintance in the park was one thing, a dinner chez Hiddleston was completely different. She knew it was in large part for the sake of the puppies, and that was fine. Lulu was as besotted with Bobby as Leia was with Tom, only in this case it was obviously mutual. Leia would just have to be careful to guard her heart. She was not a part of his real life, and she needed to remember that, even if they never discussed it.

***

Bobby started barking seconds before the buzzer rang, his tail wagging back and forth at a frantic pace. Tom, scarcely less excited, gave a quick glance in the mirror before slipping on his mask and opening the door.

Leia stood on his doorstep looking even more lovely than usual. Her simple leggings and long tee had been replaced by a pretty, floral sundress in shades of red and yellow and her hair, usually tied up or back, was long and curling about her shoulders. Tom swallowed and tried to keep his eyes from doing too obvious an up and down of her body. It was difficult, considering the shape of her legs and amount of them showing. Lulu’s yip drew his eyes down to her, and he saw that she was dressed in a purple polka dotted number for the evening, her hair sporting several sparkly clips to keep her braids from coming undone.

“Hi, welcome!” he greeted them, straining to keep Bobby from leaping out the door. “Won’t you come in?”

“Thanks,” she smiled with her eyes as he ushered her inside.

“You found the place alright?”

“Your directions were perfect,” she assured him, glancing around at his newly bare entryway. “It’s quite the posh street you live on! I don’t think I’ve ever been into one of these houses.”

“Oh, it’s just like any other home,” he said modestly, feeling stupid as he did. His house had an electronic gate (that he had left unlocked for her) and a private surveillance system. He knew it was not the usual home. “I can give you a tour later if you like.”

“I’d love that. Whatever you have cooking smells delicious!”

“Thanks. I’ll have to check on it in a bit. For now, though, why don’t we go out back? I have some drinks chilling.”

He gestured for her to proceed him and subtly steered her past the kitchen and living room and out the sliding glass doors into the back. The yard was pretty, a nice square plot with flowers growing along the fence on three sides and one large tree giving shade. A table with four chairs and a grill stood on a little stone area, and Tom had set it up with a selection of glasses for beer, wine, and mixed drinks. A pitcher of iced water stood next to a bottle of dry rose in an ice bucket, and another small bucket contained iced beers.

“Here you go, Bobby,” he unleashed the spaniel who instantly tore off around the yard, looking for his favorite toy. “Why don’t you two have a nice frolic.”

“Oh Lulu, this will be fun!” Leia cooed to her pup, also removing her dog’s leash.

As the little dog scampered off after Bobby, Tom took a deep breath and turned to her owner. Now was the moment he had been waiting for.

“I suppose since we are alone and outside and all… as long as we stay six feet apart… would you mind?” he gestured towards his mask.

“Not at all. Oh, and I got my negative test results back. I have a copy on my phone if you want to see them!” she offered.

“No need, I trust you,” he was quick to assure her. “I got mine as well.”

It was strange – until a few months ago he would have felt tremendously awkward wearing a mask around another person. Even when he had needed to wear one for a few scenes in Only Lovers Left Alive it had seemed tremendously cumbersome and rather silly. Now though, Tom realized that he could not remember the last time he had been around another person without one. There was something shockingly intimate in the act of taking it off in front of Leia, and he found himself feeling almost shy. Blushing a bit, he unhooked the straps from around his ears and took the fabric from in front of his mouth, setting it on one of the chairs.

His eyes fastened on her as she reached up to do the same, the red mask peeling away to reveal a small bow of a mouth, pink lips curved in a slight smile. Her chin was slightly pointed and had a cute little half dimple to one side. Smile lines were just barely visible and added to the appeal of her face. It was a very kissable mouth, he decided.

“Hi,” he said, rather fatuously, face breaking into a sheepish grin. “I’m Tom.”

“Hi Tom,” she smiled back, and his heart skipped a beat. “I’m Leia.”

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, until he cleared his throat and pointed to a chair.

“Please, have a seat,” he managed to say. “As you see, I have wine, beer, water, or I could make you a cocktail if you’d rather. Or lemonade if you prefer a soft drink…” he realized he was babbling and cut himself off.

“Wine would be nice,” she said, sitting down and crossing one long leg over the other, giving him a lovely glimpse of her thigh.

“Right, wine it is,” he said, uncorking the bottle and grabbing a glass. “I hope it’s alright. My sister loves this brand, she brought it when she was here last, and it is better than anything I would have known to get.”

“Not a wine guy?” she asked, accepting the glass from him.

“Oh, I like a good hearty red with a steak now and then, and I will definitely have some with dinner tonight – I hope you like Italian, by the way – but for casual drinking, I’m more of a beer or scotch fan myself.”

While he prattled on Tom opened up one of the beers and poured it into a pint glass. When the foam had gone down a bit, he raised the glass and tilted it towards her.

“To deepening new friendships,” he dared to say, eyes finding hers.

They clinked their glasses, and he took a long sip of the hoppy beverage, hoping he hadn’t over stepped.

“To embracing human interaction!” she added. “Selectively, of course.”

Well, she obviously didn’t recognize him. That was a relief. He had been half worried that she would shriek, or become tongue tied, or worse. It was remarkable to him how many women seemed to have extreme reactions to meeting him. He was so ordinary! Just an overgrown ginger kid from Wimbledon. It wasn’t like they were meet Daniel Day Lewis for god’s sake. On the other hand, he couldn’t help feeling the tiniest twinge of disappointment. He worked hard at his job, after all, and was proud of the reputation he had developed and of the work he had done. It was strange, with how up on everything Leia always seemed, that she didn’t have any knowledge of Marvel at least, or The Night Manager. Still, some people didn’t watch a lot of movies and TV, or if they did it was more intellectual fare.

They both leaned back in their chairs and watched the dogs play chase back and forth. Tom found his eyes drifting back to her, staring at her mouth. He had never realized just how much a person’s mouth said about them. Leia’s smiled as a default, giving her a more youthful look than she had when it was covered. There was something fresh and approachable about her that he was drawn to.

The conversation was light and easy. Neither of them had been doing much of anything lately, so they resorted to telling older stories from their childhoods. Tom was amused to think of Leia playing with her friends, insisting that no, she wanted to be Han Solo despite what her thoughtless parents had named her. Tom, of course, had wanted to play all of the characters, and delighted her with his spot-on Darth Vadar and Grand Moff Tarkin impressions.

“You were a terror, weren’t you?” she laughed as he described bossing his sister about the correct way to make the light saber noises.

“A bit, yeah,” he admitted. “Emma and Sarah would probably say more than a bit. They had it coming though.”

“I’m sure they would agree with that, too,” she said sarcastically.

“It’s not my fault they couldn’t take direction,” he grinned. “I’m sure you would have made an excellent Han Solo. With the proper lessons.”

“Perhaps you can make me your student after dinner, if we have enough wine,” she suggested.

He knew she meant it innocently enough, but he felt a blush creep up his cheeks at the image her words planted in his mind. Leia in a schoolgirl outfit, bent over his desk flashing through his brain was enough to make him reach for his beer and gulp down more than was advisable. She seemed to realize after a moment, as she too reached for her glass and took a long swallow.

Lulu chose that moment to break away from where they had been digging around the tree and came running over to them, something grimy hanging from her mouth.

“What have you got there, peanut?” Leia sked, sounding a bit relieved.

“She seems to have unearthed one of Bobby’s treasures,” Tom smiled, glad of the distraction himself.

“Here, princess, you want me to throw it for you?”

Leia held out her hand and she happily dropped the toy into it. Tom looked at the toy and felt his jaw go slack and his eyes frantic. It was Loki. Of course it was. One of Bobby’s favorite toys, naturally, given to him during the lead up to one of the movies, the thick ropes of green and gold formed a long God of Mischief chew toy/tug of war combo, complete with horns. Tom licked his lips, glancing quickly at Leia, only to see that she was smiling down at her fluffy pup.

“Oh, Lulu, Look! It’s just like yours, only a bit more loved,” she said with a laugh. “Good girl, saving the handsome prince from a shallow grave. Loki never stays dead for long!”

With another laugh she took the toy and threw it across the yard, Lulu and Bobby both quickly scampering off after it. Tom gaped at her, uncertain what to say.

“You must have a lot of those,” she commented off handedly.

“You… you know?” he stammered.

“Know what?”

“Who I am?” it sounded stupid and conceited to his own ears.

“Well, I hope so since I’m in your home.”

“No, I mean you know what I do for a living,” he ground out, feeling like an utter ass.

“Of course,” she told him, quirking her lips.

“Since when?” he choked out.

“Since the first day. You’re not exactly easy to mistake, Tom.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t seem to want to talk about it. I figured it must get old, people falling all over themselves around you, treating you like you’re not even human.”

“Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“So I took my cue from you.”

“I see,” he was completely flummoxed. “And you have a Loki toy? For Lulu, I mean?”

“Of course, he’s our favorite! Poor, misunderstood boy. You know, I am glad I have the opportunity to tell you now how good you are. And not just as Loki. You were breath taking in Betrayal.”

“You saw Betrayal?”

“Twice. Stunning work.”

He knew his mouth was opening and closing stupidly, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. She had known, all this time. She had been humoring him by not talking about it. He was not entirely sure how to feel about that.

“Tom is everything alright?” she asked, sounding concerned.

“Was that why you talked to me?” he heard himself asking. “Why you agreed to come over? Because I am famous?”

“No,” she said slowly. “I came over because you asked, and because I like you. Yes, I was a bit star struck at first, but I got past it. Are you angry? I just assumed you realized.”

“No. No, I didn’t. I… I should go check on dinner.”

“Tom, really, are you okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Be right back.”

Turning tail, he fled into the house, mind in complete turmoil at the new turn of events.

[sunnyoldbear]

Luca Headcanons Part 2

DoesLast one blew up and I was gonna wait to make another before making this one but then my Italian fish obsessed brain couldn’t stop thinking and I literally couldn’t stop myself so let’s go, part 2!

Luca:

Has nightmares of what would happen if things went differently: If he was sent to The Deep, if he and Alberto were outed as sea-monsters before the race, if Ercole, Cicco, and Guido didn’t miss Alberto when throwing the harpoons at the beach, if Alberto didn’t come with the umbrella during the race and he was outed in front of the town and hit with Ercole’s harpoon, etc. He always wakes up terrified. 

Apologizes to inanimate objects if he bumps into them or drops them.

Names everything he comes in contact with. Random animals such as birds, insects (even though he’s terrified), erasers he uses often, etc. They’re always random, silly names, but he loves them. 

Is a slow reader because of how he fantasizes himself in the books and daydreams, then is snapped back to reality.

Keeps a dream journal!

Loves making stories about the stars and constellations. He loves the original stories, but he loves to make up his own.

Honestly I just get the vibe that he’s scared of birds after the encounter with the seagull.

His favorite color is purple followed by green!

Giulia’s mom buys him his own bike and he loses his mind, loving it so much

He’s a bit awkward with making friends at school, sticking to Giulia’s side most of the time

He doesn’t really care for music

He can fall asleep anywhere, honestly. He once fell asleep leaning against the doorway and then crashed onto the floor

Alberto loves to doodle on his arms and hands and Luca doesn’t really care to wash them off so they just kinda chill there. 

He’s very easy to prank and scare

Oh you should see him around the holidays! He’s so excited! His eyes sparkle and shine, he absolutely loves the decorations!

He’s not competitive, actually. He just wanted the prize money to get the Vespa, but he doesn’t really care about winning. He just... Isn’t competitive

He is very protective over his friends. Do what you want to him, but lay a hand on someone he loves and he will tear you a new one. We see him in the movie just frown when Ercole makes fun of him, but when Ercole shoved Alberto, all bets were off.

Charts the stars

He doesn’t have one love language, he has all of them, but probably Physical Touch and Quality Time more than anything, or Acts of Service.

Drinks expresso more often than he probably should, but just to get through his schoolwork

Misses his goatfish more than he wants to admit, especially little Giuseppe

Allergies beat him up during the spring

Slowly gets used to cats with Machiavelli’s kittens, but he’s still scared of the chunky boy

A teacher at school made the mistake of introducing him to Shakespeare. He spent hours sobbing over a good chunk of the plays.

Because he liked Shakespeare, Giulia’s mom got him some poetry books. He was not a fan of Edgar Allan Poe or Agatha Christie or Mary Shelley, all the horror/murder type stuff. He loved Emily Dickinson though!

Is as terrified of losing Alberto as Alberto is terrified of losing him

While he isn’t as touchy with Giulia as he is with Alberto, he does get more touchy with her

Reads tons of books about cats, dogs, and turtles to give Machiavelli, Nerone, and Caligola the care they need

Hears about human farms and loses his mind, rapidly asking questions about how they work and if they’re similar to his own

Giulia tries to convince him that fairytales are real. He has nightmares about them for a few nights until Massimo has to tell him that fairytales are made up and her mom changes them slightly to be more... Non-scary. She starts telling them to him to bed just because she misses doing so, and then he can’t fall asleep without someone telling him a story.

Doesn’t do the handshake with anyone that isn’t Alberto or Giulia.

Giulia’s mom calls him “fishy” or “guppy” and he wants to hate it but he can’t

Hates it when people call him cute or baby him, but his family + Alberto + Marcovaldos still do it

Once heard some French Tourists and stared at Giulia and went “why is their Italian so weird sounding” and she lost her shit laughing

Doesn’t swear, refuses to swear

Tries to use Vespa stamps if they’re available

Once he learns what “Piacere, gioralamo trombetta” means, he sends a letter to Alberto which is just him freaking out and laughing while making fun of it. They don’t stop saying it. In fact, they probably say it more.

He has a map in his room with pushpins of where he’s been. Beside it are a bunch of sticky notes of where he wants to go with Alberto with reasons on why he wants to go.

Has a little bit more courage, but not too much

He’s often teased for calling others “sir” or “ma’am” and so he feels really shy about it but doesn’t stop

Refuses to call Massimo and Giulia’s mom by their names, it just feels too awkward for him

Makes friendship bracelets for the trio as well as separate ones for him and Alberto, then him and Giulia.

While he loves gelato, he doesn’t like it as much as Alberto

I feel like he’d dot the i’s in Giulia’s name with hearts but no one else’s

People at school think he has a crush on her but he doesn’t

He and Alberto still say they sleep under the anchovies. No matter how often he researches stars, he’ll always call them anchovies around him.

Sticks out his tongue when focused

Doesn’t like aquariums, he stares at those fish and he just feels trapped

Loves to dance in the rain

Does that little feet tappy dance thing when he’s excited or shakes his hands

Honestly half of his vocabulary is stern shouts of “Alberto!” “Giulia!” or “silenzio Bruno, silenzio Bruno! Silenzio Bruno!”

Speaking of, he can’t just say “Silenzio Bruno” once, it’s always him saying it more than once, especially when he’s really scared

He doesn’t have loud, aggressive sneezes, but he does have sneeze fits. Once he sneezed so many times that with every one his face got closer to his desk until it just went BAM and he has a massive bruise on his forehead for days. 

Sometimes just goes into the water and swims to relax. If he’s feeling homesick, he’ll do some daring trick and then instinctively turn to smile at Alberto only to realize he isn’t there

His dad still keeps crabs but lets Luca name them. Luca chooses to name them all after space things. Mainly moons, but sometimes planets or galaxies

Secretly feels really guilty about Alberto selling their Vespa

After almost being sent to The Deep, he is terrified of the dark and can’t sleep without a light on, no matter how dim it is

Alberto:

Matching pajamas with both Massimo and Giulia! (Refuses to match with her, Massimo yelled at them)

Tries to see what triggers his transformation. Does watermelon? Does juice? Is it any liquid? He’ll find out!

Calls Giulia “Spewlia” just to piss her off

Those two are always arguing. Yes, he often starts it

Lots of tattoos and ear piercings!

Will into Giulia’s room, stare her dead in the eyes, call her a bitch, and run out while leaving the door open. She’ll scream at him and probably throw something. 

Tends to shorten people’s names. He calls Luca “Lu,” “Lulu,” and even “Luke.” Luca does not like any of these names.

Still builds his Vespas! They’re not as fun without Luca, though

Takes Giulia with him sometimes too and purposely crashes into the sea or something just to see what she does. 

Gains quite a bit of muscle 

Is the one who takes down all the sea monster things with Massimo. He and Lorenzo carry Smuca to the fountain

Idk I feel like he has loud sneezes

I also feel like he makes that weird cough face like that one cat idk I just know I’m right

He doesn’t just sing... He scream sings

Doesn’t know how to dance but if there is music he will dance

Loves dancing in the rain too!

Sometimes he’ll just walk into Giulia’s room and gossip with her. They’ll make a blanket fort and grab some snacks and cats and just... Spend the night talking and catching up

She teaches him how to braid hair and now he just loves doing her hair

Bites his lip quite a bit. That’s canon but like, still worth mentioning

Learns how to ride a bike so he doesn’t get killed or something

Keeps a journal on things Luca and Giulia are interested in so he can learn about them. He writes down bullet points on what he remembers from conversations, but it’s honestly not much

He doesn’t have big dreams other than traveling the world with Luca. He knows Giulia wants to be a marine biologist and Luca wants to travel the world + is still figuring things out. He has short term goals other than that and changes the topic about it.

A popular headcanon is that Alberto takes care of the goatfish when Luca’s at school and I think that would happen!

He’s shockingly good with kids! When not working, he loves playing soccer with them by the fountain

He almost named Machiavelli’s mate “Frog” because he can’t name things

Half the time when Giulia and/or Luca talk about school, he goes “I don’t what that means, but I’m choosing to define it as ____” and won’t let them prove him wrong

Technically canon but he will bite. Chomp chomp.

When he meets Giulia’s mom, they love to paint together

He does make some friends in Portorosso, but none are as close to him as his sister and best friend!

This man is the most dramatic person good lord

Love language is definitely physical touch!

Still screams “Take me, gravity!” pretty often

Can’t do work alone without music. He doesn’t really like opera but he can’t stand silence, he just can’t

Sometimes he thinks of Luca’s betrayal and is really angry, but knows he’d probably do the same if the roles were reversed. It was about self preservation and the risk of living. He still gets upset about it sometimes, but completely forgives him and understands

Is always torn between giving Giulia genuine facts about sea creatures and giving her such absurd but lowkey believable lies. He wants her to succeed so badly but also wants to screw her over

If you give him anything, he will play with it. String? A toy. A pen? A toy. A literal rock you found on the side of the road? A gorgeous toy, thank you!

Never just goes into the water, he will always be dramatic and dive in or jump

Sometimes when not on duty, he just blows his lifeguard whistle because he thinks it’s cool

He loves yoyos!

Will noogie Giulia.

Sometimes gets scared that Massimo will abandon him, but it seems like Massimo always knows

Città Vuota is his favorite song!

Doodles all over everything, especially Giulia and Luca’s arms and legs. They range from little stars to tic tac toe games to fish to anything that comes to mind

Giulia:

Is very much into photography! Luca always does hearts with his hands/fingers while Alberto does stupid poses or flips her off... or both.

Hums and sings a lot! 

Also loves to dance and is the best of the trio! Loves to twirl and vibe even if there’s no music! It’s just her personality

She doesn’t just hug, she jumps into their arms and holds them close

Sometimes just to annoy Alberto she’ll hug him and press kisses to his head and cheeks. Siblings gonna be annoying.

Always has so much energy but really struggles with sitting still for homework after such long hours in school that her grades aren’t all that good except for Astronomy!

The most competitive of the trio

Bites her lip when she’s nervous

Started wearing her hat to match her dad when she was little and now she doesn’t like being without it

Has probably fallen asleep in class

Loves watermelon and gelato

While Ciccio and Guido apologize for their actions, she doesn’t forgive them and doesn’t want to. She has every right to

Gets really into singing when she’s singing along to songs

Doesn’t like makeup for herself but will hold the boys captive to do their makeup

Loves puns! Will make sea puns to piss off Alberto and Luca, but Luca loves them so it half-works

Loves copying Alberto’s lipbite

Machiavelli her beloved <3 

Loves her fam so much! She’s got pictures of them everywhere and is constantly buying them gifts

Speaking of! Her love language is giving gifts! 

She’s actually pretty good at making friends since she can read people so well. It’s just that Portorosso doesn’t have any.... Great kids to befriend and Genova just has too many that she sticks to a small group which eventually fades, as groups do

She isn’t the most emotional but she also isn’t the least emotional. She doesn’t cry often but she does get sad and shows it

I don’t know why I feel this way but I definitely think she’s scared of the doctor

She used to be scared of thunderstorms until meeting her boys and the race happened. Now she associates rain and storms with that win

Summer is her favorite season

She knows everyone in Portorosso by name and knows most of their birthdays by heart

Speaking of, she always celebrates Alberto’s birthday like her like her life depends on it

Now loves racing on her bike even more cause of the race

Calls Alberto “Berto” and is the only one allowed to do say

A very light sleeper

---

More on the way probably they’re all I think about

[yanderepuck]

YA KNOW WHAT

I love to talk about him and since more ppl are making their own ikevamp ocs, ITS TIME FOR ME TO RELEASE MY FAVE

EDGAR ALLAN POE.

First off, this gay bitch.

The writers Trio turned into the Writers Quartet, and best part, all four of them are alcholics

Arthur: lowkey alcoholic in game Dazai: alcoholic irl and in game Will: alcoholic irl, high tolerance in game Poe: alcoholic irl, low tolerance in game

So if you read Poe’s work, he refers to Shakespeare a lot, and even uses some of his quotes.  SO THIS BOI GOT ONE HELL OF A CRUSH ON WILL.

He doesn’t want Will to read his work because he’s a lil embarrassed by it, sorta like having someone read a fic that’s about them that you wrote.

But little does Poe know, when Will hears about someone new coming he tries to research them, so yes.  He’s already read Poe’s work.

Now you’re probably wondering.  What doe this boi look like.

Goth.

This boy is goth

This is basically what he looks like.  His hair isn’t ass fluffy, but it is indeed a mess.

Of course his pet is a Raven.  The raven will only answer tot he name Edgar because when someone would try to get Poe’s attention, they also go the ravens attention.  Poe also just has a weird bond with ravens tbh.  They flock around him.

Vincent takes Poe to Will’s house and its like he’s meeting a celebrity.  Important note.  Puck doesn’t like Poe.  Many angy thumps.  Puck does like Vincent however so he doesn’t get time to terrorize Poe as much as he would like.

So if you haven’t read my Writers Trio posts. . . . please do.  I love them.  Basically the three get together once a month like a book club but every book they read they hate so it’s more of a bitching club.  But they end up drinking every time.  Arthur insists that Poe joins.  He is a writer after all.

Will and Arthur are arguing so Dazai pulls out the alcohol and he’s like “Shut up, drinking time.” and he asks Poe what he likes and Poe goes: 

I don’t want anything.  Last time I drank I ended up dead in a gutter in another mans clothes

And the three just look at him and Arthur quickly pours a drink and hands it to him and is like “Damn you’re a fun drunk”

Long story short they get him a lil tipsy very quickly and he ends up leaning against Will bc he can’t keep himself up, and Will is very sober.

Basically everyone int he mansion is aware of Poe’s lil crush.  Will is a tad oblivious to it.  He’s basically like “aww he likes my writing uwu”

In summary.  Poe is a goth in love with Will and is good friends with Vincent, can’t hold his alcohol and has a love hate relationship with his raven.

EDIT!!! BC LULU REMINDED MEE

Him and Theo get along because of sweets.  Theo shows him some of the local bakeries  and they go and get sweets together.  Theo insisted on Poe coming tot he pub with him and Arthur.  Arthur doesn’t care too much for Poe, but he can tolerate him.

[libraryleopard]

actually the tonal shift at the end of love's labour's lost is soooooo interesting. the production i saw staged the play-turned-argument at the end as this whole silly cast-wide fight with water guns and ridiculous prop weapons and then the messenger delivered the news that the princess's father died and it was like all the light and merriment was immediately sucked out of the scene and then it became sort of this melancholy question over whether the emotions from this farcical summer of love can stand the test of time. super interesting to watch live when i had basically no knowledge of the plot of this play!

[noladyme]

Skip To My Lou, My Darling - Chapter 1, Nightmares I

A young woman with deadly nightmares comes across two brothers, who have a mission. The mission of saving people, and hunting things – maybe even the woman herself.

Our story starts towards the end of season 3.

This is the first part of this series. Let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list.

Nightmares I

I’ve usually always slept really well during thunder storms. It was like a lullaby to me. This night, though, was different. In fact – the last week, I’d been struggling to get a good night’s rest at all. It wasn’t that I couldn’t fall asleep – I’d been dozing off within minutes every night – but my dreams had been terrible, and I’d wake in shudders; sometimes with tears streaming from my eyes.

First, darkness – a darkness so intense, I was sure no light could break it. Then I’d hear screaming; pleading. I’d try to move towards the voice – always a new voice, in every dream. “Please… don’t. No! It hurts. I can’t breathe… stop…” I’d finally see a small light, and move towards it; reaching in the dark. I’d get closer to the light, finally seeing the person screaming. Putting my face against the light; I would be looking down at them – and see their terrified faces, as they gasped for breath. Something was holding them down; strangling them. I would look down, and see that it was me. I’m sitting astride my victim. My hands – my long fingers and claws – are around their neck. My black hair is falling down over their body, like tentacles squirming around their limbs – squeezing. They’re gasping – struggling to get me to get off them. Their hand reaches for my face, and scratches my neck. I’m too strong. Give me your last breath.

I sat up, screaming. A blast of thunder jolted me even further, and I sprang out of bed, running out of my bedroom. I spent the rest of the night shaking on my couch.

---

In the morning, I went into the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes where gaunt – I looked like hell. On my neck where three red scratches. I must have hurt myself in my sleep, I thought.

It was a Thuesday, and I had work. 1’st grade wouldn’t teach itself, after all – so I got dressed. Blue jeans, and a sweatshirt. At least I could look comfortable, even if my body felt like I’d been running a marathon. I put on some makeup; trying to cover the scratches and dark circles under my eyes; but decided to forego any serious work on my hair – letting it hang loose, and slipping a scrunchie over my wrist; just in case.

I got in my old Ford, and drove to work; tuning in to the news on the radio. “… another strange killing last night. Harry Parker came home from a company retreat, to find his wife – Gloria – dead in their bed. Preliminaries show that Mrs. Parker was strangled in her sleep…”. That’s one every night for a week, I thought to myself, and shuddered.

Work was excruciating. I was unsure whether it was the kids who were unruly; or myself who just didn’t have the energy to be the usual bubbly miss Moore. I was packing up my things at the end of the day, when the principal of my school came into my classroom. “Lulu?”, she said. “Hey, Marion”, I smiled. My boss was in her usual getup. A powersuit, glasses; and her dark hair in a bun on top of her head. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you… You’ve seemed a bit preoccupied this last week”, she muttered. I shrugged. “Just haven’t gotten much sleep”, I said. “I think it’s moving into my new place. Old ghosts”, I grinned. She narrowed her eyes at me. “At least you got out of that motel-room”, she said. “Yes! Thanks for hooking me up with that place”, I smiled. “I really appreciate it”. She smiled brightly back at me. “I just knew a guy who knew a guy, who owned the building”. “Either way, thank you”, I said. “A full month of living next door to random strangers travelling through, isn’t much of a home”. She nodded.

She stepped forward, and put a hand on my shoulder. Her grasp was cold; and sent a shiver down my spine. “Are you ok?”, she asked earnestly. “Yes! I’m great. Really”, I smiled. “You know, you can talk to me… Your colleagues speak highly of you, and the kids love you”, she said. “I’d just hate it if you burnt out”. “I won’t, I promise”, I said. “I’ll look in to some… herbal medicine”. She frowned. “Valerian! Not… I don’t do that kind of stuff. Drugs, I mean”. She nodded. “Good. Well… let me know if I can help”. She left the room – leaving me behind blushing in embarrassment.

I decided to go to the library. It had always been my sanctuary as a kid; whenever I felt in need of some kind of comfort. The large building was mostly abandoned, except for a few teenagers making out between some shelves. The sight made me smile. Been there, done that, kids, I thought.

I sauntered down a row of shelves, looking for anything to take my mind off things. I yawned – fatigue setting in; and decided to go over to the coffee machine by the librarian’s desk. Grabbing my extra strong, black caffeine kick, I stepped over to the librarian. “Excuse me?”, I whispered. “Yes?”. The elderly woman looked like she’d rather I was far away from her, and leave her to her organizing volumes of Shakespeare’s sonnets. “I was wondering if you could help me look up some books on nightmares? Maybe… night terrors?” “Huh… you’re the second person to ask that today”, she muttered. “Row 13. Upstairs”. “Thank you”, I muttered. “Hmm”, she answered, and looked down at her papers again.

I took the stairs, and found row 13. Banishing Night Terrors and Nightmares: A Breakthrough Program to Heal the Traumas That Shatter Peaceful Sleep. It sounded promising, and the writer apparently had a PhD. I sat down at one of the large tables in the middle of the room, and opened the book to read the foreword. I sipped at my coffee. It was scorching, and tasted like stale sadness.

“Coffee here not up to scale?”, a dark warm voice said. I looked up. In front of me stood a smiling man – dark blonde, freckles, with bright green eyes – wearing a suit. He was attractive, but I was much too tired to flirt. “I’ve had better”, I muttered. “I bet”, he smirked, and sat down. “I think you have my book”. I raised a brow at him. “It’s the library’s book. And finders keepers”, I half smiled.

He chuckled. “I’m agent John Osbourne from the FBI”, he smirked, and flashed a badge. “Hmm… did you get here on the Crazy Train?”, I asked. He raised his brows. “Classic rock fan?”, he said. “Yeah, my folks where…”. I sighed. “Sorry; I don’t care. I’d really like to get back to my book”. “It’s the library’s book”, he smiled. “So, you like reading?”. I shook my head. “What?”. “Books… you like reading books”, he said. “Me too. I read… so many things”. “Like?”, I asked, disinterestedly. He cleared his throat. “Like… I read this one book…”, he chuckled nervously. “There was this… thing. You wouldn’t know it”. “Sure”, I muttered, and flipped a page in my book. “And coffee… You like coffee. I like coffee too…”.

An impossibly tall man came over to us. “Hey, I think I got what we need – except for one book”, he said to “John”. Blonde guy smiled. “This is my partner, Dave Walker”. I shook my head. “No…”, I said. “No?”, blonde guy said.

I closed the book. Tall guy looked down at it, and met my eyes for a second. “Could I trouble you for…”, he began. “No”, I said. “She says that a lot, apparently”, blonde guy said. “Look, we’re just…”.

I grabbed the book, and stood up. “No. You can’t have the book; I’m checking it out”, I said; and looked into the green eyes of blondie. “And, no; you can’t have my number”. He looked dumbstruck. “I wasn’t going to…”. “Yes, you were”, I said. “At least you were heading in that direction. So, have a nice day. Bye”.

I walked down the stairs, leaving the two men behind; feeling strangely awesome about my quick wit – in spite of how exhausted I was. Checking out the book, I then got in my car; and rolled down the window, to let the air keep me awake on my drive home.

A hand grabbed the window frame. Blonde guy was leaning against my car. “Nice car”, he said. “No it’s not”, I said. “It’s a piece of crap, but it gets me around. Now please go away”. He looked at me earnestly. “You forgot your coffee”, he said; handing me the paper cup. He’d added a lid for me. “Thanks”, I muttered, and took it from him – our fingers touching for a second; making me swallow hard from my sudden dry mouth.

I scratched my neck for a second. “Those are some pretty nasty cuts you got there”, the man said. “Your neck”. He narrowed his eyes. I covered the scratches with my hand. “Scratched myself in my sleep”, I muttered.

He sighed. “Look… I really need that book”, he said. “So do I”, I said. “And I already checked it out”. He widened his lips in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I came of a bit strong. I get that… I’d just really like to have a look at it. Please?”.

I tilted my head, and looked over his handsome features. At another time, perhaps, I’d have fallen for his charms. “First you admit, that you were going to ask for my number”, I said. He clenched his jaw. “Yes”, he nodded. “I was… Can I have the book now?”. “No”, I said; started my car; and drove out of the parking space.

“Oh, come on!”, I heard him yell after me. I smiled at him in the mirror.

---

Darkness again. A new voice. The light. “Get off me! Stop! I’m calling the… argh!”. The man underneath me is struggling against me. They all do. They never win. He grabs my arm, and squeezes it hard. There is no pain. Never pain. She will have the pain. Now give me your last breath…

I woke up sobbing and sweating. It was 3 am. Much to early to get ready for work; but I couldn’t stay in bed a minute longer. I went into the shower to rinse of the darkness and pain. Looking down at my arm, I noticed what looked like bruises from fingers. They were painful.

What the hell is happening to me?, I thought. I leant against the wall of the shower, and sank to the floor – letting sleep take over me again. This one is old. Not much breath left. “I… can’t breathe… no…”. Let it go. It’s mine. My nails dig in to the wrinkly skin on her throat. She’s going now… Give it. Mine…

I woke with a gasp. I knew the face of the woman in the dream. It was the librarian. The water had turned freezing; and I was shivering in fear and from being cold. I turned of the shower, and wrapped myself in my robe. Once in my small combined living room and kitchen, I brewed myself a large pot of coffee – there was no way I was going to let myself fall asleep again. It was too terrible.

In the morning I slipped on some black gym leggings. I’d never actually used them for working out, but they where comfortable. I grabbed my most comfortable bra, and softest t-shirt and zip up hoodie.

I drove towards the school; passing the library on the way there. Police cars and an ambulance was parked outside it. A shudder went through my body. I had to stop at a red light, and looked towards some police officers who where deep in discussion with two men wearing suits. One of them turned around, and I met the eyes of the FBI-agent who’d tried to steal my book the night before. A smile ghosted his face, and I felt my cheeks flush. His partner caught his attention; and he licked his lips for a nanosecond – sending very impure thoughts through my head.

The morning was normal – as normal as it could get, considering I was downing a cup of coffee every hour. I spent lunch in silence, picking at my food; when one of my coworkers – Nathan – came to sit by me. “Crazy about that librarian, huh?”. “What?”, I muttered. “You didn’t hear?”, he asked. “Old Mrs. Baskin down at the library. She fell asleep at her desk last night, and didn’t wake up. Someone strangled her in her sleep”. “She’s… dead?”, I croaked. “That usually happens when someone tries to kill you... It was weird. She was wet all over, but there was no water around”, he chuckled. “You’re looking tired, Lulu. You sure you’re up for work today?”. “I… dunno”, I whispered. “Just gotta get through the day”. I got up, and went over to the coffee machine, grabbing myself a large mug of please-let-me-stay-awake.

Going through the line of presidents with the kids; there was a knock at the door. Marion stepped in. “Lulu… Miss Moore”, she said. “Can I talk to you in the hallway?”. I looked at the room of starring kids. “Guys, I’ll be back in a second”, I muttered, and followed my boss into the hallway.

“What’s up?”, I said; trying for a smile. “Nathan told me about your conversation earlier. Said you seemed out of it”, she said. I shook my head. “Really, I’m fine”, I said. “Look, Marion…I really appreciate all your help this last month. And I swear I will make it up to you by being the best teacher I can. I honestly just need to settle in to my new place”. She smiled gently. “All right, Lulu. I trust you”, she said. “I’ll talk to Nathan. Tell him to be less nosey”. She winked at me. I shook my head. “Oh, no. You really don’t have to!”, I said. “It’s fine”, she said; and walked away.

Arriving in my apartment that afternoon, I brewed myself a large mug of chamomile. I had some crushed valerian root, and sprinkled a little in to the hot beverage – sipping carefully at the steaming drink. I went to bed early, and for the first few hours, it seemed I got some well needed comfortable sleep.

Green eyes are looking at me. He has a large grin plastered over his face, as he winks at me. He leans in, and seems to smell my hair; and I look up at him. “Let’s take that Crazy Train ride, huh?”, he smirks. I nod fiercely, as he drags me along towards a large soft bed; and we fall onto it, in each other’s arms. As his face comes close to mine; I part my lips – preparing for his kiss…

It’s so cold. I can’t open my eyes again. When I finally pry them open, it’s all – Darkness…

Good. I have her back. We can go now. The light. I see it. And I am straddling him. The one who is causing trouble. “What?... No!”. Shh, now. Time to go, troublemaker. Let me have it. My hands grasp his throat, and I squeeze. He strikes at me; hitting my side. She will feel that in the morning. “Get off me, you… ahh!”. Stop struggling. I squeeze harder. He is stronger than the old woman; but I had two last night. I am stronger. My hair entangles him – holds down his arms, so he cannot strike again. That’s it… let it go. His eyes roll back, and… there… It’s mine.

“Nathan!”, I yelped, as I sat up straight in my bed. This was even more terrifying than the librarian. I’d just seen myself strangle my coworker to death.

It was still very early, but I wouldn’t catch another minute’s rest; so, I decided to just get up, and get ready. No more of this crap, I thought. Best foot forward, Lulu. Shower, breakfast, coffee. I did just that; but as I pulled my black nightgown over my head, I winced from a pain in my ribs. Looking down, there was a beginning bruise on my ribs. I shook my head, and got under the shower – staying standing this time, so I wouldn’t doze off again.

I downed two mugs of steaming caffeine, and got dressed in my favorite jeans – comfortable, but just tight enough to show off my butt. A black tank, fluffy cardigan; and a bandana in my hair – in the best Rosie the Riveter style. I flexed my bicep in the mirror; and smiled at myself. Today was a red lipstick day for sure; and I applied my makeup – forcing myself to think happy thoughts.

---

I parked in my usual spot, next to where Nathan would usually park. His car wasn’t there, and I frowned slightly. Entering the school, I noticed a few of my coworkers whispering to each other, outside Marion’s office. “Good morning”, I smiled brightly at them. One of them looked down, while the other sighed heavily. “Have you seen Nathan?”, she said quietly. “He hasn’t called in sick, but he never showed up…”. “That’s… weird”, I croaked. Oh, no…, I thought. “I should get to class”.

At lunch, Nathan still hadn’t shown up. My desperate attempt of staying cheery, was getting very hard at this point.

I was listening to the kids go over their abc’s in the afternoon. My eyelids felt heavy. Suddenly – darkness… “No!”, I shouted. The kids all looked at me in surprise. “I’m… sorry”. I sped over to the cd-player in the corner. “All right, you little rock’n’rollers! Miss Moore needs a pick me up. Let’s get our dance on!”. The kids all whooped and grinned; as I put on Ramones’ version of the Spiderman theme. I always got a kick out of seeing the kids dancing around the floor, and jumping from tabletop to tabletop.

I got on to my own desk; and led the kids in a serious macarena to the beat. “Miss Moore?”, someone said. I was enraptured by shooting imaginary spiderwebs at the kids. “Miss Moore!”. I looked towards the door; and there stood Marion, and – holy crap – the two FBI agents. The green-eyed blonde was grinning from ear to ear, and bopping his head to the music. I instantly flushed red; and quickly got off my desk. “No, no!”, he chuckled. “Keep going!”.

I cleared my throat and looked at Marion. “Miss Moore. The…”. F B I she mouthed so the kids wouldn’t understand. “… are here. Could I trouble you for a moment?”. “Sorry, guys”, I smiled to the kids. “Why don’t you all draw a picture while I’m gone…”. I stepped into the hallway; avoiding eye contact with the two strangers. Marion sighed. “Lulu Moore; this is agents…”, she began. “We’ve met. She stole our book”, blondie smirked. The tall agent cleared his throat, and looked at his partner meaningfully. Marion frowned. “All right, well… Lulu… I don’t know how to tell you this”. She looked saddened; and grabbed a handkerchief from her pocket.

The tall agent furrowed his brows. “Miss Moore; your coworker – Nathan Palmer – was found dead a few hours ago, in his bed”. My jaw dropped. “Nathan is dead?”, I breathed. “How?”. “Strangulation”, the blonde agent said.

I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. A dark look ghosted the blondes face. “We wanted to know if you knew of any enemies he might have had”, the dark-haired man said. “Your boss says you two were close”. I shook my head. “Not… close. We’d usually eat lunch together…”. Marion frowned. “Nathan had a tendency to be a bit… nosy. He’d spend a lot of time asking Miss Moore questions, and getting into her business. Wouldn’t you agree, Lulu?”. I grimaced. “No… I mean, sometimes…”, I rasped.

The tall agent sighed. “Look if there’s anything you could tell us. Anything at all…”. I shook my head. “I really don’t know…”, I muttered. The blonde smirked again. “Well, if you think of anything, give us a call”, he said. “Or even better, I’ll call you. What’s your number?”. I frowned at him: “Nice try, Ozzy”, I sneered. “Lulu, these are FBI-agents!”, Marion gasped. “Sorry”, I muttered sarcastically.

The tall man closed his notebook. “All right. If we have any more questions, we’ll call the office”, he said. Marion nodded. “Absolutely, agent. And go get Miss Moore’s telephone number from my secretary. She’s just down the hall”. The blonde man grinned; and I rolled my eyes. Thanks, Marion, I frowned internally.

The two men walked towards the secretary’s office, leaving me and Marion behind. The principal looked at me meaningfully. “I think you should go home. Get some rest”. I shook my head fervently. “No, Marion. I have to get back to class…”. “Go home. Come back Monday. I’ll get a sub for tomorrow”. She touched my arm. “You’re sleeping standing up. I get it… new job; new apartment… And to top it off, we get news of Nathan…”. She sniveled for a second. “But I need you at your best here”. “I’m sorry”, I muttered. She smiled. “It’s ok”, she said “Go. I’ll take over your class”. I went back inside my classroom, and gathered my things; muttering a goodbye at Marion and the kids.

---

I didn’t want to go home; but I also didn’t have anywhere else to go. Stopping by a grocery store, I grabbed every caffeinated drink I could find; and a bunch of easy microwave meals for the weekend. I needed to keep my strength up, stay awake. I didn’t know what was wrong with me; just that whenever I let myself fall asleep; someone would die.

It’s not your fault. That’s crazy, I kept telling myself – but deep down, I couldn’t avoid feeling like I had something to do with the deaths this last week. I drove home; blinking fiercely to keep my eyes from going blurry. I managed to drive somewhat straight down the road, but missed my turn, and had to go around the block to get back to my building.

I parked by a beautiful classic chevy. I’d always liked classic cars, even if I didn’t know anything about them. Grabbing my bag, I went upstairs to my apartment, and let myself in. The door to my bedroom was open; and I closed it. I am not going to bed, I thought. I opened the window to let in fresh cold air; and turned on my go to album at the moment; Fleetwood Mac’s self-titled album from 75. Monday Morning Blasted through the speakers; and I smiled at the cheery tune. I opened my book.

“Sleep terrors are classified as a parasomnia — an undesirable behavior or experience during sleep. Sleep terrors are a disorder of arousal, meaning they occur during N3 sleep, the deepest stage of non-rapid eye movement (NREM) sleep. Another NREM disorder is sleepwalking, which can occur together with sleep terrors.”

Lindsey Buckingham’s voice leading me through the song had me bopping my head; but the shuffle setting I’d set the album on, led to Stevie Nick’s more somber voice; singing Landslide. I loved that song. It was so calming; and made relax.

Darkness… She’s asleep again…

A knock at the door jostled me before the dream turned for the worse. I was relieved; and told myself to kiss whoever had woken me up.

I opened the door. Outside stood blonde guy, and tall guy. “Hi”, blondie smiled. “No…”, I said. “You keep saying that”, he grinned. “Can we come in?”. I shook my head. “No!”, I said.

He pushed pass me, and stepped in to my apartment. Both men where wearing jeans and flannel shirts, instead of the suits I’d seen them in before. “Dean…”, tall guy said. “What happened to John?”, I snarled, as tall guy passed me. Blonde guy looked at me angrily. “What are you doing here? And please leave!”. “Just here to finish a job”, blond guy said, and pulled out a large knife.

My heart in my throat, I grabbed my phone. “I’m calling the cops…”, I croaked. Tall guy took my phone out of my hand; and I sprang for the open door. Blondie jumped in front of me, and closed it in front of me. I began backing away from him. “Please… just take whatever it is you came for, and leave. I won’t tell anyone…”, I breathed. Blond guy stepped towards me.

“Dean!”, tall guy said. “We don’t know for sure…”. “It all leads back to her!”, blonde guy said. Tall guy put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Please, miss Moore… sit down. We just want to talk to you”. He coaxed me towards the recliner by the open window, and I wondered for a second if I could make the jump. “You’ll break you neck”, blondie said coldly; almost as if he’d heard my thoughts. “Dude! You’re scaring her!”, tall guy said. “Good”, blonde guy said.

Tall guy sighed, and sat down on my couch. “I’m Sam Winchester. This is my brother; Dean”, he said. “We’re here because we think you might – somehow – be involved in the killings hitting this town lately”. “I have nothing to do with that”, I rasped. “Are you cops?”.

Dean chuckled. “Far from it”, he muttered. “Stevie Nicks… heard she was a witch. Friend of yours?”. I looked at him exasperatedly. “What are you talking about? And could you put that knife away?”. Sam looked at his brother; who rolled his eyes, and slipped the knife into its holster again. “Miss Moore, you were one of the last people to see the librarian alive”. “Mrs. Baskin”, I muttered. He nodded. “Then there was your coworker, Nathan – on top of numerous other cases of strangulations when people where sleeping”. “I heard”, I said. “But like I said, I have nothing to…”. “Yes… that may be true”, Sam said. “But we need to be sure”, Dean grunted; looking at me warily.

I was beginning to get mad. “Look, you come in here like you own the place; threaten me with a knife; and accuse me of killing people”, I growled. “Who the hell are you?”. Sam sighed, and looked out the corner of his eye at his brother. I was beginning to see the family resemblance – though they seemed very different from each other. “We’re hunters”, he said. “Yesterday, you were FBI… Look, I don’t have any deer here, so you can go”.

He frowned at me, looking like a sad puppy. “You look really tired. When did you last sleep?”, he asked. I shrugged. “I sleep… all the time. Just haven’t…”. I sighed. Dean went to sit by his brother. “Bad dreams?”, he muttered. I nodded. “Hence, the book”, he said, looking down at the volume still laying open on my coffee table. “They’re… horrible”. I swallowed. “Have you experienced anything strange lately? Maybe in your apartment? Cold spots?”, Sam asked. Dean pulled out an electronic device from his pocket, and stood up – seemingly scanning the room. I chuckled. “Seriously? What are you? Ghostfacers?”. Dean looked offended. “Excuse me?”, he sneered. Sam waved him off. “Really… has anything changed in your life lately?”.

I shrugged. “I don’t know you. Why should I just let you know everything about me?”. “Because… we genuinely want to help”, Sam said. “Whatever is happening, it comes back to you”. “How?”. “Those scratches on your neck…”, Dean said. “They found skin samples under the nails of Gloria Parker”. “That doesn’t prove anything…”, I muttered.

“When did you fall asleep Tuesday night?”, Sam asked. “I don’t know. Around… midnight. Woke up at 3”, I said. “Don Winslow”, Dean muttered. “You fall asleep again?”. “In the shower”, I whispered. A smile ghosted Deans face. “The librarian. She was wet when they found her”, Sam said. “There were two deaths that night. Then last night, your coworker, Nathan”. “And a close call earlier today”, Deans said. “A homeless man sleeping on a park bench was brought back to life; with strangulation marks on his throat – around 1 pm”. I shuddered. “I dozed of for a few minutes by my desk”, I said.

The men looked at each other. “We’re gonna need you to stay awake tonight”, Sam said. “We need to test a theory”. “What?”, I said coldly. “That I’m sleepwalking, and killing people in my sleep?”. The both looked down. “Seriously?”, I cried out. Dean shrugged. “Better brew some coffee, sweetheart. It’s gonna be a long night”.

---

I was stuck in my apartment with two strangers; without access to my phone, which Sam kept in his pocket – while his brother was hovering over me. I drank about a pint of coffee, and was beginning to get hungry. “I need food”, I said quietly. “If you’re gonna hold me hostage, at least feed me”. Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I could go for a burger”, he said. “What you got?”. “I’m not cooking”, I snarled. “It’s ok!”, Sam smiled, trying to ease the tension. “We’ll go get something”. “You’re leaving?”, I asked, trying not to sound relieved. “No”; Dean said. “Sam will go. I’ll stay here”. “Awesome”, I muttered. Deans eyes had a tint of amusement.

“Sammy… Burgers. Fries. You know the rest”. Sam stood up. “Fine… Lulu?”, he asked. “Cheeseburger and fries. No tomatoes. Jalapeño poppers with ranch; and chicken tenders”. Deans jaw dropped. “You are hungry!”, he smiled. “Not that hungry. But I’m pissed; and you’re paying”, I muttered. Sam went towards the door. “Oh; and pie”.

Sam sent Dean a look. The green-eyed man was grinning from ear to ear. “Double the pie”, he said. Sam left the apartment, and closed the door behind him.

I yawned. “Don’t fall asleep”, Dean said. “Have some more coffee”. “I’m already tweaking on that stuff”, I said. He raised a brow at me – his green eyes giving away his intentions. “There are other ways we could keep you awake”, he smirked. I frowned at him. “You held a knife to me just an hour ago. No thanks”. He looked down. “Yeah, sorry about that”. He stood up, and began walking around the room. “Music?”.

I gestured towards my rack of cd’s. Usually I’d use my phone for music, but it was grabbing food with Sam. Dean looked down the rack. “Boyband fan, huh?”, he said. “I went to high school”, I muttered. “Never get rid of cd’s. I used to hide my favorite albums whenever friends came over”. “What albums?”, he asked. “Top drawer in the dresser with the stereo”.

Dean opened the drawer. “Mötley Crüe! Oh yeah… Cheap Trick…”. “Got some LP’s on the bookshelf”. He spun around and looked at me. “You have LP’s?”. I shrugged. “Yeah?”.

He sped over to my bookcase. “Sex Pistols. Queen. Rolling Stones… Lady, you’re sitting on a goldmine in music!”. “I know”, I said. “Listen to anything else?”. “Sure. Whatever catches my ear. But I like classic rock. Saw AC/DC live a few years back”. Deans jaw dropped again. “Seriously?”, he gasped. “Really? What was it like?”. He was like a kid on Christmas eve. “It was… so awesome”, I admitted with a grin. “I flashed Angus while he played the riff to It’s a Long Way to the Top…”. He shook his head. “If you weren’t a witch, I’d ask you to marry me”.

I flinched, and looked at him angrily. “I’m not a witch”, I said. “And no thanks. I like my men a little less… knifey”. He chuckled. “Fair enough… nothing wrong with living in sin”. I couldn’t help but smile.

He went back to the drawer, and pulled out High Voltage – putting it on. He skipped straight to Can I Sit Next to You Girl. “No”, I said. “You can’t. You stay over there”. He shrugged, and went over to my fridge. “You got beer. You mind?”. “Go ahead. Give me one”, I said. “Nope”, he said; opening a cold one for himself. “Alcohol makes you drowsy”.

I sighed. “I’m gonna go take a shower”. I stood up, and walked towards the bathroom door. Dean followed. “What do you think you’re doing?”. “Need to… make sure you don’t fall asleep. Or run away”. I looked at him, and smiled – taking a backwards step into the bathroom. Dean smirked at me, and lifted a brow. I slammed the door in his face. “Fine!”, he called from the other side of the door. “Make it a cold shower; keep you awake. And talk to me”. I quickly undressed. “What do you want me to say?”, I called out. “That you’re creepy for talking to a woman while she showers?”. I heard him chuckle. “What class are you teaching?”. “I thought you already knew everything about me”, I said; turning on the shower. “And you saw the kids. They look like teenagers to you?”. “I was more focused on the chick dancing on her desk”, he chuckled. “Come on…”. I sighed, and stepped under the cold water. “I’m a first-grade teacher”, I said. “Cool. Abc’s and stuff?”. “And stuff”, I replied. “You like it?”, he asked. I imagined him leaning against the door. “Yeah. It’s ok. New job”, I said. “Since when?”. “About a month ago”.

The cold water made me shiver – or it might be the fact that a pretty damn good-looking man was standing just on the other side of the door, as I was buck naked. “Lived here long? You still got some boxes around”, he said. “A little over a week”, I said; scrubbing my scalp with shampoo. “Huh”, he said. “Anything weird going on here?”. “Other than the occasional strangers showing up and shifting between threatening me, and flirting with me?”. “I wasn’t… ok I was”, he chuckled. “But seriously”. “Your brother already asked me that. No. Nothing”.

Rinsing out the shampoo, I then stepped out of the shower. “Crap”, I said. “What? What’s wrong?”. Dean sounded worried. “I forgot a towel… and clothes…”, I muttered. “Do you want me to come in there?”. “No!”, I cried out. “Just… get my robe. It’s in the bedroom. Don’t go through my underwear!”.

A moment later, there was a knock on the door. “I got it”. I opened the door slightly, and stuck out my hand, to grab the robe from him. “Dude!”, I said; looking at the item now in my hand. “This is a towel the size of a stamp. Get my robe”. “Didn’t know where it was…”, he said. I could hear his smile on his voice. “You’re… just, turn around! Close your eyes…”. He didn’t answer. “Are they closed?”, I asked. “Yes…”, he said. “Really?”. A pause. “Ok, now they’re closed, I swear”.

I peeked out. Dean was covering his eyes, and had his back to the bathroom door. I quickly slipped behind him, and into the bedroom. Quickly, I put on clean underwear, and a pair of leggings. After putting on a bra, I slipped my Ramones t-shirt over my head. “You’re kind of sleazy, you know that?”, I called out. “Not the first time I’ve heard that”, he said. “I’m sorry. Really”.

I looked at my bed. It was so inviting, and I stifled a yawn. “Lulu?”, Dean called out. “You ok?”. I sat down on the bed, feeling my comforter under my hands. It was so soft. I could just lay back for a second, I thought. I leaned back, and closed my eyes.

Someone was rustling my shoulders. “Hey! Lulu. No, you don’t. Get up”. Dean put his arm behind my back, and made me sit up. “Come on, sweetheart. Time for more coffee”. He pulled me up to stand; and held me flush against him; patting my cheek gently. “You’re cute”, I smiled – before blinking fiercely, and shaking my head. “Wait… No. What?”. Dean grinned. “You’re not so bad yourself, Lou”, he said, and led me into the living room. “Caffeinate!”.

He poured me a glass of coke. “Here you go. Sugary gogo-juice”, he said, handing me the drink. I drank the whole glass in one go. “Thanks… sorry”, I muttered. “No shame in stating the obvious”.

Someone knocked the door. “Dean, it’s me. Food’s getting cold”. Dean opened the door, and Sam stepped in with a large bag that smelled heavenly. “Did you remember the pie?”, I asked. “Apple. Hope it’s ok”, he said; looking me over. “Why are you wet?”. “I showered”, I said. He frowned. “Cold shower”, Dean smirked. “Shut up”, I sneered.

I went to sit at the kitchen table, and gobbled down the burger quickly. The two men starred at me in wonder. “What?”, I asked, mouth pull of fries. “I love you”, Dean whispered. Sam smacked the back of his head. “How are you feeling, Lulu?”, he asked. “Tired, and ready for bed”, I admitted.

Sam looked around the room. AC/DC was still playing – the album having gone through all the tracks twice by now. “We should do something… keep you awake”, he said. “Do you play chess?”. I frowned. “That’d knock me out for sure”, I said. “A book?”, he tried. “Too tired to read”. “I could read to you…”, he said. “I’m sorry, but your voice is too soft to keep me awake. Especially if you’re reading to me”. Sam looked down in embarrassment; and Dean laughed at him.

“A movie! Something not boring”, he said. He found an old action-movie dvd I hadn’t seen in ages; and put it in the player. A group of antiheroes raced through the streets of Los Angeles, trying to get away from the cops. I paced the floor; knowing that if I sat down, I’d fall asleep.

I began clearing out the kitchen cabinets. I’d only just filled them a few days ago; but I needed something to do. Grabbing a clean cloth, I wiped down the shelves. Dean and Sam were both watching the movie – enraptured. If ever there was a time to run, this was it – but for some reason; I trusted them. Just a few hours ago, I was convinced they were there to rob and kill me, but now; there was something telling me I should go with their story of wanting to help – do the right thing.

I filled up the cabinets again. Dean stepped over to help – chuckling for a moment at my If it requires a bra or pants – it’s not happing today mug. I took the mug from him – and once again our fingers graced – sending tingles down my spine. Dean seemed a bit taken aback by the touch as well, and parted his lips slightly – looking away. I cleared my throat. “What time is it?”, I asked. Dean looked at his watch. “1 am… One of us should get some sleep”, he muttered. “The other keep watch”. I nodded somberly. “There’s no reason for any of you to suffer”, I said. “We should both stay awake”, Sam said. “Just in case. We’ve pulled all nighters before. We’ll be fine”. Dean nodded. He looked towards me. “You look like death though”, he said. “Like I said. Sleep hasn’t exactly been restful”, I muttered.

Sam stood up, and gestured for Dean to follow him into the corner. He began whispering to his brother. Dean frowned. “No… Won’t work… Because I already suggested it, and she said no!”. “I’m not having sex with your brother to stay awake”, I said. Sam looked embarrassed. “Sorry”, he muttered.

Deans eyes lit up. “We could take the Impala for a ride!”, he smiled. “Is that your chevy down there?”, I asked; my eyes lighting up. “That’s my baby”, Dean grinned. “I’m driving”, I said. Deans face looked offended. “You absolutely are not! You can’t see straight, and… no!”.

I sighed. “Ok… conversation it is, then”, I said. “Tell me about hunting. Do you go for big or small game?”. I went to sit by the kitchen table. Dean poured me another glass of coke. “We don’t exactly hunt game”, he said. “Not that kind of game, anyway”. Sam sat down across from me. “We hunt supernatural beings”, he said. “I know it’s hard to believe, but…”. “At this point I’m so exhausted, I’m hallucinating anyway. I’ll believe anything”, I chuckled. “Ever take down a vampire?”. The brothers looked at each other. “Really?”, I gasped. “Those are real? What about werewolves? Bigfoot?”. “The sasquatch has yet to be proved existing”, Sam said. My jaw dropped. “But… werewolves?”. Dean nodded.

“Holy crap… so what’s this thing you think I am?”. Sam frowned. “We don’t know if it’s what you are, as much as what might be using your body”. I furrowed my brows. “That sounds… rapey”. The tall man tried to smile. “I’m sure it’s not an incubus”, he smiled. “A what?”, I asked. “An incubus. Has sex with people in their sleep”, Dean said. “The male version of a succubus. They’re vampire-like”. “Creepy”, I muttered. “You have no idea. That’s a weekend I’m never getting back”, Dean said quietly.

I shook my head. “More… I’m dozing here”. Sam looked desperate. “Hobbies… you have hobbies, right?”, he said. I shrugged. “I like… books. Music. Used to play roller derby”. Dean looked exasperated. “Come on!”, he said. “When this is over – if you’re not a witch, or some other nasty thing – I’m asking you out”. I blushed slightly.

Sam smiled. “Roller derby… like, with a ball, right?”. “Dude…”, Dean said. “No. It’s the thing with the roller skates; and cute girls in fish net stockings”. I frowned. “Actually, fishnet stockings aren’t for everyone. It’s a feminist community of people of all genders; playing a contact sport on roller skates”. “You wore them though, didn’t you?”, he smirked. “Yes…”, I admitted. “They looked good on me”. “I’m sure they did”, he said.

“Why’d you quit?”, Sam asked, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. “Busted my ankle three times in as many years”, I said sadly. “I loved it, but I can’t block like I used to. Took up dancing instead, for a while”. “Like ballroom?”, he said. “Burlesque”, I whispered. Dean went to stand by the wall, and banged his head against it. “Please don’t be a witch”, he said quietly.

“Anything else?”, Sam asked. I shrugged. “What about you?”. “Sammy used to do magic”, Dean said. Sam’s face lit up. “Sit still”, he said. He put his hand behind my ear; pulled a penny from behind it, a grin forming on his face. “Wow…”, I muttered. “Ever saw someone in half?”. “Not as a trick”, he admitted.

I shook my head, and stood up. “I need some fresh air”, I said, and went to stand by the window. The chilly wind hitting my face was soothing, and I closed my eyes. Suddenly someone was shaking my shoulders again. “Lulu!”. Sam and Dean where crouching by me, where I was laying on the floor. “You passed out”, Sam said. Both their faces where worried. I accepted Deans hand, and he pulled up to stand.

“Move around…”, he said, holding a hand to my back, and leading me on a tour of the room. “Sam, find some music. Anything fast”. Sam grabbed a cd from the rack, and soon Tearin’ Up My Heart was blasting from the speakers. He bopped his head, and smiled at us. I smirked back at him; while Dean frowned. “This isn’t gonna work, man”, he said. “She’s gonna pass out again”.

“Could you… maybe tie me down? Then I can’t leave, but still sleep”. They looked at each other. “It’s risky… no”, Dean said. “Please”, I begged. He looked at me with a gentle expression. “Sweetheart, I’d love nothing more than to tie you down”, he smiled. “But it would have to be under completely different circumstances”. I smiled at him. “Raincheck”, I said. He chuckled, and licked his lower lip – making me think exactly the same thoughts I’d had when I saw him at the library.

“Let’s just get through tonight”, Sam said. “We’ll let you sleep soon enough. Just stay with us”. I rubbed my face. “How long can a person go without sleep, before they go crazy?”, I rasped. “I don’t know”, he admitted. “But… around 10 days, before it becomes lethal”. “As in, I die”, I muttered.

Dean pulled my arm out, and examined the bruises on it. “From the looks of it, this thing is already doing some pretty nasty damage to her”, he said. “I’ll call Bobby. He’s got to have something by now”, Sam said. “Who’s Bobby?”, I asked. “A friend”, Dean said. “Yeah. Call him”. Sam went in to the bedroom to be able to hear the phone over the music.

A slow song came up. I halted in my track, and Dean put his hands on each of my shoulders. “I’ll change the music”, he muttered. I nodded, but the motion made me stumble forwards. He caught me in his arms; and I swayed from side to side. “Or… this is fine”, he muttered. He lifted my arms to place them around his neck; and put his own around my waist. “We’re dancing”, I croaked. “Sure are”, Dean said. “I lie awake. I drive myself crazy, drive myself crazy – thinking of you”.

Dean moved us around my living room floor; and suddenly dipped me – making my eyes widen in panic. “I got you”, he chuckled. “Haven’t danced like this since prom”, I smiled. “You’re good at this”. “I went to a lot of proms”, he muttered. “Jenny Sharp. Cathy McKlinsky. Susan Farrow – she was something else”, he grinned. “Why so many?”, I asked. “We moved around a lot. Our dad was a hunter too”. “No, I mean… why so many girls?”, I said. “One should be enough. You could have stayed in touch with… Jenny”. He shrugged, and dipped me again, making me laugh this time. “Not good at attachments”, he admitted. “I’m not surprised”, I chuckled. “Are you rethinking that marriage offer already?”. He smirked. “Maybe I found the one”, he said. I laughed out loud.

Sam returned to the room just as the song ended, and Dean lifted his arm to twirl me underneath it. “Susan Farrow?”, Sam muttered. Dean shrugged. “Bobby says to keep her awake a while longer. He’s working on some leads in Germanic folklore”. “Ok”, Dean said. “It’s almost 2 am. We can do this”. “Let’s take a walk outside”, Sam said. I shrugged, and went to get my sneakers.

---

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@edonaspanca​

@wonderlandfandomkingdom​

[wcuenglish]

The next faculty member under the Spotlight is Ron Rash, a distinguished professor in the Department of English. He has been teaching for a  total of about 41 years. Of that time, he has spent the  last 17 years here at WCU.

In this interview, you’ll hear about his patronus, what fish he would be, some of his favorites, how he would spend $1 million, the picture on his office door, who his hero is, advice he has for students and aspiring authors, and more.  

His requested use of his time in the spotlight: bragging about this semester’s class!

Below the cut is a shortened version of his answers to student questions and other information:

What do you usually get at Subway?  

The largest cup of tea that they serve.

Do you believe in Bigfoot?  Have you ever seen Bigfoot?

Not sober

What is your "patronus” or kindred spirit?

Speckled trout. It’s the native fish of Appalachia.

Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?  

Sunsets

Would you rather drink coffee or tea?  

Coffee in the morning; tea in the afternoon.

If you were a fish, what kind of fish would you be?

Speckled trout

If your personality was an ice cream flavor, what would it be?

Probable vanilla

What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?  

Pistachio

What is your favorite place to eat in Sylva?  

That’s tough. Mad Batter, certainly; Guadalupe Cafe; Lulu’s. I’d have to narrow it to those three.

What's your favorite movie?  

Oh wow, that’s such a tough one. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is one of my favorites; Cool Hand Luke is one; and The Tree of Life, written and directed by Terrence Malick.

What is your favorite Star Wars movie?  

Unfortunately, I do not have one. Not a big Star Wars fan.

What is your favorite time period in history?  

The period of the French Revolution because I think so much of what happened since then is tied into what happened in that revolution, both the good and the bad.

What is your favorite month of the year and why?  

September, particularly late September

If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would you choose?

Does it have to be healthy? Fried okra.

If you could eat dinner with any 3 people you wanted, who would you choose and why?  

Samuel Johnson, William Shakespeare... I would say William Faulkner, but he wouldn’t talk. Who would be a third one? There’s a writer named Jean Giono, from France, and he’s always been very interesting to me, so maybe those three.

If you could travel anywhere in the world, all expenses paid, where would you go?  

Well, I’ve been there. France. I really feel a connection to the French, their literary tradition, but I’ve actually been there. I would like to go to Brazil.

If you were given $1 million, how would you spend it?

I don’t know. I’d probably just give a lot of it to a worthy cause, some kind of conservation area. Something to do with parks and buying land up for land conservation.

What do you like to do in your spare time?  

I’m a very boring person. I like to listen to music, read, walk, fish. Those are the main things.

What are your top 3 favorite books?  

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky because that book was the first one that made me want to be a writer, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, and either Moby Dick or The Sound and the Fury.

What is your favorite book you have written?  

As far as novels, I’d say Serena. As far as short story collections, I’d say Burning Bright.

Tell us about the picture on your office door!  

It’s a photograph of logging in Appalachia, actually near Brevard, during the early part of the 20th century. And it’s just a reminder of how huge those trees were, and anyone who sees it recognizes that. One reason I think Serena is the book I feel best about is that people forget that if you had driven through the Smoky Mountains in, say, 1910/1920, you would’ve been surrounded by mountains that had been raised, almost as if they’d been skinned, and I think we tend to forget that. That particular photograph is a good reminder of that particular virgin forest that we lost.

Who is your hero?  

Well, I’ve got a number of them. I think Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German theologian who stood up to the Nazis, is certainly a man that I view that way. I admire people who are brave when it really costs them to be. It’s easy to pretend to be brave, but those people such as that show us what we’re capable of as human beings. As far as writing, certainly Shakespeare as far as the excellence that I go back to and can’t imagine writing that way, but it’s just nice to know that a human being can do that.

Why did you decide to teach at WCU?  

Well, they invited me. I certainly wanted to teach here, and for several reasons. One, because my family is so deeply rooted here, actually in this very county. I had relatives here in the 1700s. The location, the fact that it was rural. I’ve always been more comfortable in rural areas. I’ve never lived in a city, and I’d never want to. And it gave me an opportunity that I hadn’t had to do more writing.

What's your favorite thing about teaching?  

I think it’s connecting with the students. The great thing is it’s allowed me to, at least on some level, believe I’m younger than I am. Just the idea that what I think is important, the aspect of literature, is something I think has a great worth for us as human beings... that I can transfer some of that, maybe some of that appreciation (I hope), to encourage my students to read and write. Teaching literature is an act of communion.

What’s the hardest part about being an author?

It never gets easier. Each time, it’s, for me, like starting over. I mean, all the doubts, all the sense that it looks hopeless, how will this thing ever cohere... going through that. You know, I just feel very fortunate that I’ve been able to do what I’ve wanted to do with my life. I’ve had some success, and I think that even if I hadn’t, I’ve gained so much from writing that I would not have regretted it, even if I never published. I think it’s a worthwhile endeavor just to understand ourselves and understand the world around us by trying to observe it.

What advice do you have for students/aspiring authors?

For any writer, if you want to be a really good writer, you have to read. I mean, you have to study people who are better than you are. I do not know a first-rate writer who is not a veracious reader. One should also read widely. Read the writers from South America, read Márquez, read Borges. Read Achebe from Africa, read Baudelaire from France, read Mo Yan from China. I think that’s really important, but also read writers from the past. Great writing remains great writing. Anyone who’s writing today is going to learn a lot about how to create a minor character from Shakespeare. I think just reading from your time period... you’re not really learning the tradition, and part of what you want to do is to break away from that tradition, to create your own way of perceiving the world, but I think it’s hugely important to learn from the past as well as the present.

Anything else you would like to share for your time in the spotlight?

Well, I’m just grateful to be here. I’ve had great students. Actually, one of the best classes I’ve ever had in my life is this semester, and that’s really nice to know that as long as I’ve been teaching, I can still go into a class and feel like I’m connecting and also being challenged because the group I’ve got this semester, they’re so smart and so talented that they keep me really pushing. I have to bring my A game with them, and that’s good for me, too.

[aliveandfullofjoy]

100 Artists Who Shaped My Year: 2019

It’s been a few years since I’ve done this, and I’m technically two days late, but here we are all the same! A list of 100 different artists whose work made an impact on me in 2019. Some are local, but most are not. One has to remain anonymous for now, because life is silly. 

In alphabetical order.

Pedro Almodóvar, for writing and directing Pain and Glory (2019, film) and Bad Education (2004, film);

Anonymous Playwright, for a play title whose name I can’t mention yet;

Will Arbery, for writing Heroes of the Fourth Turning (2019, play);

Frédéric Back, for making The Man Who Planted Trees (1987, animated short);

Antonio Banderas, for his performance in Pain and Glory (2019, film);

Ingmar Bergman, for writing and directing Scenes from a Marriage (1973, film) and Summer Interlude (1951, film);

Caty Bergmark, for directing Baby (2019, musical) and life;

Eli Bolin, for writing the music for Documentary Now: Co-Op (2019, television) and John Mulaney and the Sack Lunch Bunch (2019, television);

Bong Joon-ho, for writing and directing Parasite (2019, film) and Snowpiercer (2013, film);

Nicholas Britell, for his score for If Beale Street Could Talk (2018, film);

Bo Burnham, for writing and directing Eighth Grade (2018, film);

D’Arcy Carden, for her performance(s) in The Good Place (2018-19, television);

Carol Channing, for being a light in the dark;

Benjamin Christiensen, for directing Häxan (1922, film);

Toby Chu, for his score for Bao (2018, animated short);

Olivia Colman, for her performances in The Favourite (2018, film), Broadchurch (2013-17, television), and Fleabag (2018, television);

Willem Dafoe, for his performances in The Lighthouse (2019, film) and The Florida Project (2017, film);

Ana de Armas, for her performance in Knives Out (2019, film);

Donna Deitch, for directing Desert Hearts (1985, film);

Kaitlyn Dever, for her performance in Booksmart (2019, film);

Eugene Fedorenko, for directing Every Child (1979, animated short);

Beanie Feldstein, for her performance in Booksmart (2019, film);

Fiddler on the Roof in Yiddish (2019, musical);

Elsie Fisher, for her performance in Eighth Grade (2018, film);

Jennifer Garner, for her performances in Love, Simon (2018, film) and 13 Going on 30 (2004, film);

Greta Gerwig, for writing and directing Little Women (2019, film);

Brian David Gilbert, for Unraveled (2019, webseries);

Daniel Glenn, for Sixteenth Night (2019, play);

The Great British Bake Off (2019, television);

Adèle Haenel, for her performance in Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019, film);

Regina Hall, for her performance in Support the Girls (2018, film);

William Jackson Harper, for his performance in The Good Place (2018-19, television);

Jerry Herman, for his tremendous career;

Marin Hinkle, for her performance in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (2017-18, television);

Tom Hooper, for directing Cats (2019, film), the most fun I’ve had in the movies in forever;

Peter Jackson, for directing The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001-03, film);

Barry Jenkins, for writing and directing If Beale Street Could Talk (2018, film);

Carly Rae Jepsen, for a damn good concert;

Erland Josephson, for his performance in Scenes from a Marriage (1973, film);

Kunio Kato, for directing La Maison en Petits Cubes (2008, animated short);

Val Kilmer, for his performance in Tombstone (1992, film);

Tim Kov and Anna Hulkower, for My Little Tonys (2018-19 podcast);

Yayoi Kusama, for her Infinity Mirrors exhibit;

The Lemonheads, for their cover of “Frank Mills” (1992);

Dan Levy, for his performance in and producing Schitt’s Creek (2015-19, television);

Eugene Levy, for his performances in Schitt’s Creek (2015-19, television) and Waiting for Guffman (1996, film);

Lizzo, for Cuz I Love You (2019, album);

Billie Lourd, for her performance in Booksmart (2019, film);

Jonathan Majors, for his performance in The Last Black Man in San Francisco (2019, film);

Dave Malloy, for writing Octet (2019, musical);

Richard Maltby, Jr. and David Shire, for writing Baby (1983, musical);

Djibril Diop Mambéty, for directing The Little Girl Who Sold the Sun (1999, film) and Touki Bouki (1973, film);

Corinne Marchand, for her performance in Cléo from 5 to 7 (1962, film);

Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss, for writing Six (2018, musical);

Mike Marshall, for his performance of “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)” in The Last Black Man in San Francisco (2019, film);

Elaine May, for writing, starring in, and directing A New Leaf (1971, film);

Noémie Merlant, for her performance in Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019, film);

Anaïs Mitchell, for writing Hadestown (2019, musical);

Hayao Miyazaki, for his entire body of work, but especially the films of his I watched for the first time this year: Porco Rosso (1992), Kiki’s Delivery Service (1988), The Castle of Cagliostro (1979), Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984), and Castle in the Sky (1986); 

Elisabeth Moss, for her performance in Us (2019, film);

John Mulaney, for writing and starring in Documentary Now: Co-Op (2019, television) and John Mulaney and the Sack Lunch Bunch (2019, television);

Annie Murphy, for her performance in Schitt’s Creek (2015-19, television);

Bill Nelson and Joseph Trefler, for writing Men with Money (2019, musical);

Tim Blake Nelson, for his performance in The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018, film);

Rosemary Newcott, for directing The Wizard of Oz (2019, musical) and A Christmas Carol (2019, play) at the Alliance Theatre; 

Griffin Newman, David Sims, and Ben Hosley, for Blank Check with Griffin and David (2015-2019, podcast); 

Yuri Norstein, for directing Hedgehog in the Fog (1975, animated short) and Tale of Tales (1979, animated short);

Lupita Nyong’o, for her performance in Us (2019, film);

Catherine O’Hara, for her performances in Schitt’s Creek (2015-19, television), Waiting for Guffman (1996, film), and Home Alone (1990, film);

ozello, for pronouns, but especially “caleb” (2019, album and song);

Nick Park, for writing and directing Creature Comforts (1989, animated short), A Grand Day Out (1989, animated short), The Wrong Trousers (1993, animated short), and A Close Shave (1995, animated short);

Dolly Parton, for her body of work;

Robert Pattinson, for his performance in The Lighthouse (2019, film);

Paula Pell, for her performance in Documentary Now: Co-Op (2019, television); 

Joe Pesci, for his performance in The Irishman (2019, film);

Christopher Plummer, for his performances in Knives Out (2019, film) and The Man Who Planted Trees (1987, animated short);

Hal Prince, for everything; 

Florence Pugh, for her performance in Little Women (2019, film);

Marjane Satrapi, for writing and directing Persepolis (2007, film);

Céline Sciamma, for writing and directing Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019, film);

Andrew Scott, for his performance in Fleabag (2018, television);

William Shakespeare, for his body of work, but especially Macbeth; 

Domee Shi, for directing Bao (2018, animated short);

Stephen Sondheim, for everything; 

Emma Stone, for her performance in The Favourite (2018, film);

Jan Svankmajer, for directing Alice (1988, film);

Jeanine Tesori, for writing Fun Home (2015, musical), Shrek (2009, musical), and Caroline, or Change (2003, musical);

Alfred Uhry, for writing The Last Night of Ballyhoo (1997, play);

Liv Ullmann, for her performance in Scenes from a Marriage (1973, film);

Agnès Varda, for directing Cléo from 5 to 7 (1962, film) and Faces Places (2017, film);

Vernal & Sere Theatre Co., for their production of Spirits to Enforce (2019, play);

Alicia Vikander, for her performance in I Am Easy to Find (2019, film);

Paula Vogel, for writing Indecent (2017, play);

Phoebe Waller-Bridge, for writing and starring in Fleabag (2017-18, television);

Lulu Wang, for writing and directing The Farewell (2019, film);

Rachel Weisz, for her performances in The Favourite (2018, film) and Disobedience (2017, film);

Orson Welles, for directing The Other Side of the Wind (2018, film) and Macbeth (1948, film);

Lina Wertmüller, for directing Seven Beauties (1975, film);

Chloé Zhao, for directing The Rider (2017, film);

and Zhao Shuzhen, for her performance in The Farewell (2019, film).

[jebentnietalleen]

Your writing is amazing so I’m wondering what your creative self will come up for 49. “Well this is awkward…”

A lot of things have been really weird lately. Not only is he getting along with everybody in class, finally feeling like he can be himself now that he came out at the beginning of the schoolyear, but he is also satisfied with the grades he's been getting. Sure, Biology has alwasy been his strongest subject, but now he is also acing classes like Maths and French. He is still struggling with Literature, but who isn't? At least he's been getting help in that subject. Then again, that might be part of the problem to begin with…

His mentor insisted on him getting a tutor in Literature because it's the only class he's more or less failing, and it would be a shame to let that ruin his grade point average. His mentor already had someone in mind that could help him, a guy who was in his final year, who needed some afterschool credits. It seemed like a win win, he'd said. Lucas wasn't going to say no to that, because honestly, Literature was such a pain in his ass that he would take just about any help he could get. He just hadn't expected that his tutor would be Eliott. Ever since Eliott transferred last January, he was the talk of the school. And yes, he was also pretty much all Lucas could think about, so he couldn't exactly blame anybody else. 

The first time he saw him was in the foyer, it was almost surreal: those grey eyes bore into his own, and he felt a jolt of excitement and electricity go through him. Yeah, Eliott was gorgeous and there was no denying it. He cursed himself for sneaking glances whenever he could, because Yann caught him in the act, looking back and forth between Lucas and Eliott, wiggling his eyebrows and poking him in the chest: 'Nice, Lulu, I approve'. Lucas tried to scold him and shrug it off but it was useless. 

Needless to say, his friends have been mercilessly teasing him about his crush ever since. It's been nice, really, perfectly fine, pining for the new kid from afar. He overheard Daphné when she told Emma that it was such a shame that Eliott has a girlfriend, to which Emma replied that a lot can happen when you change schools. New enviroment, new relationships… Daphné quickly explained that Eliott and Lucille had been together for ages. Emma's disappointed face was exactly how he felt as well: even though he never really thought he'd have a chance with a guy as handsome as Eliott, it was fun to fantasize about the possibilities. But knowing that he had a girlfriend (ugh, great) and a longterm one at that, kind of crushed the last bit of unrealistic hope that he secretly still had. 

That hadn't stopped him from looking at Eliott whenever they crossed paths, but it did bring him back down to earth. Him and Eliott? Never gonna happen. He was more than okay with that, because it was just a crush and he never interacted with him anyway. So when Lucas walked into the classroom where he was suppose to meet up with his new tutor, and it turned out to be Eliott… yeah, it kind of fucked with his head. A lot. Because this was not part of his plan, his 'look but don't talk' plan. The worst thing of it all is how nice Eliott turned out to be, and how smart. He really was the whole package and it's just not fair, not fair at all. Really, what it boils down to is that despite Eliott's best efforts, he was too damn distracting. Just like right now, when Eliott is reading a passage from Romeo + Juliet out loud, fingers skimming the pages, voice soft. Lucas doesn't know where to look, at his hand or his lips or his eyes, that somehow stopped looking at the book and are now in fact looking straight into his own. Lucas can feel a blush creeping up from his neck to his face. Shit. Did he just ask him something? He isn't going to get out of this one. 'Sorry, I guess I dozed off for a bit.' Eliott grins sheepilly, 'Oh, I guess I should be the one to apologize, for being such a boring tutor.' Lucas isn't sure if he is joking or not and suddenly he feels awful:  'No, no no, are you kidding, you are far from boring.' Eliott chuckles: 'I'm only kidding, Lucas' and why is the way Eliott says his name one of the best things he has ever heard? Lucas playfully shoves Eliott's arm: 'Making fun of your pupil surely isn't in your job description' they spend the rest of the hour chatting about everything but Shakespear, at one point their hands brush together when Lucas wants to grab a pencil at the same time as Eliott and it feels like his hand is on fire. He's doomed.

Yet this wasn't even the weirdest thing that was going on in his life right now. The number one weirdest thing was the fact that for the past month, he has been finding drawings in his lockers. Very cute drawings, always of a raccoon, sometimes paired with a hedgehog. There were always little messages beneath the drawings, which let him know that whoever is leaving these for him to find is really paying close attention to him. One time the message was: 'You always look beautiful, but the blue sweater you are wearing really brings out your eyes.' Another time it said: 'I don't believe in parallel universes, but if I did, I would ask you out on a date in one version.' It should be creepy, but somehow it's not. It kind of brightens his day whenever he finds one, and he keeps every last one of them in his backpack. Whenever he feels kind of grumpy or down, or whenever he just wants to feel extra happy, he looks at the drawings and reads the messages. It drives him crazy that he doesn't know who they are from, but it's also kind of nice, to have a secret admirer. He hasn't told anybody about them yet and he wants to keep it that way. 

He arrives at school extra early today, because he is meeting Eliott for a turtoring session at 8:30 and he has classes throughout the whole day after that, and Alex offered to drive him to school because he had football practise at 8:00 anyway. He wasn't going to turn down a free ride, even though it meant waiting for half an hour before he was suppose to see Eliott. He walked through the corridors with Alex until they arrived at the lockers, exchanging a high five before Alex sprinted off towards the gym to change. Might as well check his locker, you never know… 

Lucas turns around to make his way over, when he sees Eliott standing still, with a look on his face like he is a deer caught in the headlights. 'What's going on?' Lucas asks as he approaches him. He hopes there's nothing wrong. 'Uhm.' Eliott looks down at his hands, and Lucas follows his gaze. He's holding a... a drawing. What the? 'Wait a minute. This- are you…? Are you really the one who has been leaving me drawings all this time?' He can't believe it even though the evidence is right in front of him. 'Well, this is awkward… uhm, I am really sorry. I thought you liked them, I have seen you looking at them from time to time and I enjoyed making them for you so I figured I would just continue to do so until… well, until I was done tutoring you and I finally didn't have an excuse not to ask you out anymore' Eliott nervously bites his lip as he looks at Lucas, awaiting his response. 

He wants to be happy, he really does, but. 'But what about Lucille?' Eliott looks at him like he has grown a second head: 'Lucille? We haven't been together anymore for a while now. I figured it wasn't fair to her, to keep dating her while I was falling for this cute boy at my new school'. And wow, is this what it feels like to fall in love? This warm, happy feeling spreading through your body, giddyness that makes him want to hug everybody, especially Eliott. 'The cute guy is me?' He asks with a shy smile on his face, because he still can't quite believe it. Eliott laughs and takes his hands, and yeah, now Lucas is sure: this must be what falling in love feels like. 'Yes, the cute guy is you. Ahh, screw the rules. Lucas, do you want to go out with me?' Lucas squeezes his hands and tugs them a little, making sure Eliott inches closer to him: 'Very much so, yes. Would it be against the tutor/pupil relationship rules if I would kiss you right now?' Eliott shrugs, looks into the distance and pretends to think about it. 'I think it is. But I don't care much about rules.' Eliott closes the distance between them, slinging his arms around Lucas' shoulder, and shows that he means that statement by kissing Lucas softly on the lips. Lucas wants to protest when Eliott leans back again, and Eliott reads his mind: 'Let's save the rest for tonight. I just decided to break all of the rules, we're going out tonight. Besides, I think I should resign as your tutor anyway, I would much rather see if we can be something else and I don't want to wait another month to find out.' That seals the deal, Lucas can't be blamed for what he does next, which is standing on his tiptoes to give one last quick kiss. 'I like the way you think'.