#mind but it was just one of those things where like dan's previous comments were so distinct in my mind that coming back and hearing the | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fragmentaryremains · 1 year ago

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Ooh, nice. I always like these surveys, especially the look at the data afterwards. I especially like the fact that you shared some of the end comments and recommendations! Speaking of which, I'll second Dan Olson as a great content creator. His videos tend to be very in depth, and he does a great job of explaining complex subjects in a way that's both engaging and informative!

As for the data itself, there's definitely some interesting things. For instance, the fact that there's more respondents from Alberta brings to mind the latest Statistics Canada report that about Alberta's population growth this year that broke all previous records. Whether that's connected at all or not is another question—but it is interesting.

For favourite characters/characters to see more of, I'm definitely not surprised to see Jasper there. They've been great, in no small part because of your Park Pass answers/comics. They're also probably the most chill of your Alberta OC's, which I think helps differentiate them from the rest of the bunch. On the note of your travel posts/posts focusing on "local flavour" (like Edith's fashion choices, donair differences, pretty much anything related to urban planning and the like) have been one of my favourite types of posts as well. I didn't really get to travel for leisure at all this summer—any travelling was either purely functional like grabbing something from one of the big cities, or to visit family and was at most a big day trip instead of an extended visit. So stuff like that (and similar types of creators like Best Edmonton Mall) have been really great just to sort of "vicariously travel" without needing to actually be able to travel. It's also caused me to look at my own town differently too—having lived here for most of my life, it's easy to take for granted things that would be completely new and unique to visitors. Even something as mundane as a fire hydrant have interesting stories behind them! It's definitely made me appreciate the various planning behind the scenes more, so that's a plus.

As for that one response (so that's what you were referring to in your reply here…) it just seems … weird? Like, at first I thought they had just been shared a link to either the survey itself or the post featuring it—neither of those featured an intro, so maybe you could argue that they aren't particularly newbie friendly? Maybe they're new to Tumblr or aren't even on the platform and thus didn't know where/how to find this information? But then they mention blocking and pinned posts, indicating they at least have some familiarity and should be able to seek out the information they desire. Maybe they didn't want to read the post/didn't want to click on the pages you linked that help give clarity? Maybe they don't show up on mobile or something? Did they want a "TL;DR" version where they can just read it and immediately form their opinion? Like, it's just baffling to me.

Either way, this was fun! My one regret is that I answered this survey close to the beginning of September—if I had answered it later (and decided to broaden my recommendations outside of musical artists like others did) I would have put someone different in for my choice there. Next year maybe!

Battle of Alberta 2023 Survey Results

It's that time again. Previous surveys can be found here for 2022, 2021 and 2020 for your reference.

We had 18 respondents to the survey. The average BoAB reader is female, around 24-25, and Canadian. Over half of respondents identified as Albertan, which is again increased from last year. Of those that have lived in Alberta, most of you have lived in Calgary followed by Edmonton, Lethbridge and Banff.

Read on for some graphs, notes, and responses...

Demographics

Much bigger proportion of men this year than last, howdy fellas! :)

I'm always meaning to extend the ages out a bit more than I have been, there's a very slight increase this year just based on averages from years previous. Curiously enough there is a very even split between those in the 19-30 rage this year that I don't typically see. As possible, it could just be that some of you are aging and reaching a new category.

A smaller category for international folks and a bigger category of North Americans than previously - I'm always worried whether I should focus more on making this blog more accessible to non-Canadians and I feel that I've been failing on that a lot, for which I apologize. Thanks for your patience!

The Albertan category continues to grow this year, and it's also worth noting that the "Never heard of it" category has disappeared this year. Well, I suppose those who hadn't last year have heard of it now? I hope. : );

Calgary has finally surpassed Edmonton in this ranking, which I suppose was only a matter of time as it is the more populous city. Can't believe all the Lethbians are moving to Calgary jk.

We have some more variation on travel this year as well, a couple of you cited Drumheller specifically and I believe one person mentioned Slave Lake as well. Naturally, the big cities and mountain parks are in the lead. And tsk tsk, no the Calgary airport doesn't count (though it is certainly Calgary flavoured in my recollection) :^)

Blog

Little change in the proportions here, just less of you admitting you know me which is fine :^)

Lots of shifting here with art steadily at the top. There's been a drop off in politics and stereotypes and a rise in not being alone in Hellberta, which I imagine might have been somewhat related to wanting to forget the election this year.

One of you mentioned not remembering following the blog - this might have been my error because I did reblog the survey to my other blogs since I'm in the habit of doing so. It's entirely possible you coincidentally followed one of my other blogs for something else but ended up inundated with the content on this blog anyway, since I tend to self-reblog quite liberally.

Illustrations beat out Asks for top spot this year, current events taking another hit. I'm glad you guys enjoyed Jasper's introduction and my travels so much! Someone also mentioned the timeline which was very kind, the only reason it wasn't on the survey was because I had already published the survey before the timeline!

I also realized for the second year in a row I don't really have a name for what one respondent described as "local flavour" posts that are directly inspired from my travels and day to day, and thus I don't exactly have a tag for it to make it easily findable. I will consider whether it needs a name and if I have a good one.

I also screwed up slightly and listed the Bison ask as the only one of its category rather than introducing "Parks Pass" as its own category, so this is something I'm going to reflect on for future surveys as well.

Historical events plummeted from the top spot this year in favour of gag comics, and again I definitely get the need for more lighthearted stuff as all these compounding crises are weighing on us. I feel like that's definitely a direction I've already been leaning in, even with those things that do relate to current or historical events.

(but yeah, I am still thinking about the otome game even though the pace is slower than molasses right now)

For other: there's still some interest in Special Powers and Cloud Minding there, so I will definitely consider how to continue them if possible even if it's not on the horizon right away.

This was a new question this year to replace "Projects". While I'm a little sad at the high number of you guys who use mobile only, I understand. I just feel frustrated because I learned how to make webcomics before mobile was a thing, and I still struggle with proportioning my comics for scrolling and legibility and I'm constantly worried that I'm doing something wrong (so of course I am always scrolling my own blog on my phone and nitpicking).

The other issue is that some pages of the blog including the vision, FAQ, etc. are inaccessible to android users (like myself) which is also annoying. But it's the way of the world and I can't fault anyone for it, I can just do my best to be aware of it and try to learn and make decisions accordingly.

Characters

Calvin stayed steady in the lead with the same number of votes, but I'm shocked and amazed to see Red making such gains this year! The rest of the votes were a little more egalitarian than last year, although sacrifices were made (poor Eleanor!)

I also want to note that there's no direct correlation between living in Calgary and voting for Calvin, interestingly enough.

Jasper's first year of life has left you all thirsty for more, I see. But uh, I really dug my own grave with Sherwood Park as my joke answer, hey...? I guess you will have to meet Marion soon enough (which means I have to actually picture what she looks like and put that on paper instead of just drawing the Eye of Sauron)

Eleanor, the Paranormal Squad and the Nyo! characters are climbing up this year as well.

Someone actually suggested other towns such as Vegreville, which made me chuckle a little. As I've said previously, my goal is not to create as many characters as possible but to focus on developing the ones I have in front of me, and I'm not interested in personifying any more small towns at this time. That said if I had to pick a design for Vegreville...

why not this guy? :^)

I'm not picky though, they could be a lady too.

lol.

The magpies won this year, hooray! I will put out some extra peanuts for them from you guys.

Comments

Now to address some of the comments...

Let's start with the recommendations! Thank you so much for your suggestions, I hope you don't mind me sharing so we can all take advantage. They're all new to me, so I'd like to check them out as soon as I'm able :)

In terms of artists, I'll put in a recommendation for Amelie Patterson! She's an alt-pop singer/songwriter from Banff. I don't know if she fits the "vibe" of Eleanor necessarily, but she definitely has some good songs! I assume you're probably aware of the documentarian Dan Olson (https://youtube.com/@FoldingIdeas) but if not, he's made an eclectic mix of video essays with rather good quality behind them! :D visit Chunk'd in Calgary (it's in Kensington), they sell kinda expensive but absolutely life-changing cookies Have you ever visited Fort McMurray?

To answer this last one directly, no, not yet: I'm waiting a bit on that one because apart from Northern Alberta being constantly on fire during travel season lately, we are hoping for some progress on Highway 686 between Fort Mac and GP to make the Northern Alberta trip a little easier. Also hoping to save up some money so pals from up north can show me around a bit too :)

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The lack of an Unknown-N/A mark for opinion makes it less welcoming. I was shared a link to your blog, and yet, I didn't see an easy to read pinned "What to Expect / About… et cetera" so I don't know if I want to follow or block - that's much more in depth.

I'm going to be real with you, though I have no idea if you have any intention of reading my response or not or if you have already moved on, this response is somewhat unprecedented for me and I would be lying if I said it didn't keep me awake at night for a bit.

I'll set aside my bruised ego for a moment just to thank you for making me aware of some of my own blind spots and assumptions. Though it is not explicit and in fact I might have even been unintentionally misleading when I advertised this survey, I assume a certain level of familiarity with or at least curiosity about my work for survey respondents. However, there is no requirement to fill it out, regardless of whether you can answer the questions or not. It never occurred to me for this to be intended as a 'welcome' survey for visitors or potential readers, but more of a year in review.

I can't make any comment on who sent you my blog or why, but I do feel somewhat on the defensive from your response. Not only do I have a pinned post that links to more in depth about pages, but one of my main projects this year was to revamp it to be more accessible and easy to read than previously, so I can't help but feel a little stung that either it was not findable or not easy to read for you.

I'm not in the habit of self-marketing to complete strangers and I've racked my brains trying to come up with an alternative explanation for this amorphous thing that I've been building these past few years, but the choice between "follow or block" rather than "follow or leave" sounds to me like something I cannot resolve in my response beyond the following, and I apologize if this comes across as rude:

If you're not into weird drawings of anime twinks with varying levels of homoerotic tension that just happen to represent personifications of cities in this weird, beautiful, frustrating province and my own evolving understandings of them as both characters and as places, maybe this blog isn't for you. It's one part idealised vision, one part shenanigans, and one part coping mechanism. Maybe someone else could describe it better from the outside (lord knows as an ask blog, a great deal of the blog is somewhat dependent on reader contributions).

If you're looking for a bumper sticker that would encapsulate enough of my political views to decide whether to block me, you'd have to drive pretty close to read the paragraph starting with "well i absolutely voted for notley because i'm willing to settle for what amounts to a centre right pro-pipeline party if it means a snowball's chance in hell of avoiding certain death from the bigots and conspiracy theorists continuing to flock to what passes for the conservatives these days... etc etc", well, there it is and certainly there is a queer, satirical bent to political views espoused on this blog, though I try to think of it as a "break from the bullshit" because otherwise I wouldn't get out of bed let alone pick up my pen.

I can't provide much more than this in terms of "what to expect" because, as the survey indicates, the blog is always changing according to my time, energy, and mindset and who the heckaroonie i think I'm speaking to at any given time. If you stuck around long enough to read this, thanks.

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the parliament of magpies would have won if they'd ACTUALLY BEEN THERE.

I try to keep results as anonymous as possible but Maybe If You Came Over at a Different Time that isn't Balding Season they wouldn't be so shy! :)

you're good

Let's end on this one, thank you :) and thank you all for responding this year, I hope things can look up for us a little in the new year despite all the political bullshit, the cost of living and the goddamn constant fires. I learned a lot this year and was able to travel a lot too, and I hope I can continue drawing inspiration from this silly project for a while yet.

See you, Space Cowboys.

#boab survey #boab meta #graphs #data #(someday Lilith will be everyone's favourite…)#(but today is not that day)

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slasherrabbitmadness · 3 years ago

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Victorian DILF Brahms x Female Reader

Series: Don't forget who you belong to.

Chapter 2 - Give me your answer, do

Underthecut - NSFW, Male Masturbation, Oral - Male Receiving.

Brahms sat idly in his living room, leaning back in his large leather recliner. Feet shuffling along the Egyptian carpet, thumbs twiddling as he hums Daisy Bell by Harry Dacre,

"I'm half crazy, all for the love of you." He smiles as he thinks of her. How her hair shines in the sun, like a halo above her head. Her eyes sparkling whenever she laughs, how the corner of her eyes crinkles ever so slightly. How her smile makes his heart skip a beat.

Brahms sucks in a breath, his hum-singing continues, "There are bright lights the dazzling eyes of beautiful Daisy Bell." He sits up straight, eyes on the unlit fireplace, the gold gate held an ornate Chinese dog welded on the front. He looks above the fireplace to the mantel, the rows of photos in their ash wood frames.

His face is stern as he glances at a particular photo. He, a half-smile as his hand rests on his son's shoulder. Lawrence when he was a boy of eight. Lawrence's other shoulder had a delicate white hand upon it. Gerti, her lips dark with her favourite shade of lipstick, her slight freckles littered her face, her silky blonde hair up in a beautiful age-appropriate bun.

His hum-singing fades as he continues to stare, the family photo, the family in the photo appearing as sharp and elegant as their social standing. That day, Gerti had scolded him all morning, her eyes wide and glossy, her alabaster skin held a blue and yellow hue under her eyes. Her fingers were cold and clammy.

"For the love of everything, Brahms, hurry for once." Brahms flinches as he can still hear her screeching, "Lawrence, get the cat's paw out of your mouth and stop pulling its tail!" He chuckles,

"I miss that cat," Brahms laughs to himself. Never one for pets but how that scraggly little beast could make his son laugh in the most jovial way, warmed him greatly.

His amused grin falls as his eyes lock with Gerti's. Grabbing the photo, his thumb ghosts over her image, remembering how once soft her skin was. His stomach churns as a chill seeps into his bones, shaking him in his spot.

He places the family photo back on the mantle, right next to a photo of her. Her hands grasping each other, face tilted slightly, a timid smile upon her face. "Sir, I don't need my photo taken!"

"Y/n, as my employee of a year, you are practically family." Brahms let out a shaky breath as his mind replays the conversation. "And you may call me, Brahms. You address Gerti by her full name."

"Gerti and are intimate in ways that have allowed us to be close."

"Pray tell may I watch these intimate moments?" His cheeky reply had cost him an ear full from his wife when she had found out. Brahms still never understood why women used such charged words to describe a close friendship.

Brahms left the living room, a stirring in his gut had him heave. He wanted to call upon her for aid, 'Fetch me a water with some ice, and actually bring some black tea and one of our lemons from Italy.' he clears his throat at the thought of dryness being washed back by the cold refreshment.

He had given her a few hours a week for personal time. Free to be spent however she pleased. Ever since the death of his wife and Lawerence attending Rugby School for Boys she had more free time. Much to Brahms immense displeasure.

Brahms had taken to stalking her on her days off. Wanted to see what she got up to. Where she went and specifically with who. He would linger twenty feet behind, always darting behind stalls and other tall men to hide, he even took to wearing a coat that he kept hidden in hopes she would not recognize him further.

He stared in amazement at how well she helped an old lady onto the trolley all the while juggling her belongings, refusing a 'tip' "It's the nice thing to do." in reference to helping others.

His cheeks flushed whenever she stopped to smell the flowers, literally. A quaint smile as she turned down the offer for a free one from the vendor. She often stopped to sniff the white and yellow flowers. He had noticed Daisys were her favorite.

He seethed when one day you were stopped by a handsome Youngman, his tall lean frame stood confidently as his dark brown eyes held a softness as they looked down at you. He had overheard the name in a distinctly American accent, "Dan, yeah I'm studying medicine with my colleague, I'd introduce you but..." He hated that you always walked near the campus, hated all the young men eager, too eager to chat up a single young lady.

Dan had never gotten farther than chaste conversations and one quick feather-light kiss on her cheek.

Brahms wondered if he should up and move, just to be a little further away from the university, away from the young men, away from one of them stealing her away. She was his, he had just yet to convince her. Ask her, even bring it up in any conceivable way.

One occasion made the blood sear in his veins. He should have been more away, should have been more vigilant of this Dan fellow. He watched from a distance as Dan rounded the corner and collided with her. His tall body fell over hers, his hand had just managed to catch the back of her head, softening to the blow to the ground.

"Oh, God! I am so sorry!" Dan's eyes wide in shock, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

She laughed, "No, no, it's fine," Brahms gritted his teeth.

"No, it's not." Dan pulled himself and her up, his hand holding her in a firm grasp. "I am so sorry." He scratched the back of his head, his expression doleful.

"Accidents happen." She assured, grabbing his hand still wrapped around hers. " It's okay Dan."

"You remember me!" Dan's brown eyes lit up. A Radiant smile over his face as he stepped closer to her.

Brahms seethed as the scene played out before him. She smiled, he smiled. She laughed, he laughed. The words between the two began to fall effortlessly between them both.

He watched despondently. How she could let herself relax so easily in another man's presence. How her demeanor shifted around Dan. Those stiff shoulders eased themselves as Dan placed his hand on her shoulder and winked.

Brahms cursed, the university's chapel bell rang out. Every thunderous clang shot through Brahms. Every clang was a reminder he had another place to be. The dreaded desk in the dreaded little corner of his office.

He turned one last time, eyes watched as she smiled with a warmth he'd never seen, how she leaned into Dan as his smile shined bright.

Brahms walks up to his maid's room, thanking Gerti for installing a sense of comfort in Y/N as to never locking the door.

He jiggles the door handle, "Hm..." Again, "Weird," his eyes narrow, "Bloody thing is locked." He jostles the handle, "Bloody woman..."

Click

"Ah, there we are." He hums in approval as the door creaks open. Forever grateful for the previous owner teaching him how to easily unlock a door in the house without a key "Rickety ol' tings" Brahms mocked the man's heavy accent.

He inhales as he enters her room. The simple little abode warmed his heart. Her bed and the nightgown left upon it stirred his loins. He walks to the bed, grabs the nightgown, bringing it to his nose, he growls as he inhales, her natural scent lingered on the garment.

Brahms holds the garment in his teeth as he shucks off his pants, freeing his painfully erect cock. The thoughts whirl in his mind as he plops onto her bed, sighing with content as he sinks down into the mattress and a sneer as he grips his cock.

The same bed she slept, where when the night calls for it, he knew she'd sleep naked. "Fuck..." He growls through the nightgown, ripping it from his mouth to place it over his chest. Her bed, her bed where she no doubt has touched herself, even if briefly in a beautiful sinful manner.

Does she shy away as she dipped those delicate little fingers into her dripping pussy? Does she bite her cheek to stifle her pitchy moans when that jolt of pleasure shot through her?

Brahms collects some spit in his large hand, sucking in a breath as his cold spit touches his cock. His hand pumps eagerly around his thick member, a low groan as the image of her crawling up to him floods his mind. He sighs as he pictures it as her hand gripping him, gasping at how large it is,

"Brahms, my fingers can't even wrap around it!"

"That's okay, love, use those pretty little lips and that wet little tongue to help you."

"What if my make-up smears?"

"Oh, love, that's what I want." Brahms throws his head back, thumb circling his swollen head, picturing it as her delicate wet little tongue. He grips himself harder as he swears he can feel her lips wrap around his cock.

His low groans and breathy moans fill her little room, her name falling from his lips, "So beautiful, Y/N. My love, so perfect, mhm, yes, further down your throat, moaning around it."

Brahms breathing hitches as he pictures her, clawing at his chest as tears prick the corner of her eyes, "I'm a little nervous," She says as she rubs her glistening pussy, inches over his leaking cock.

"You got this, my love." Brahms keens,

"Will it fit, Brahms?..." She bites her lip, a hand groping her beautiful chest.

"My love, just relax, I have you." He pictures gripping her hip to ease her down onto him, gripping his cock as he imagines her warm pussy gripping him.

Audible slaps from the fisting of his cock, mixing with his now desperate pleas and moans fill her room. She's on top of him, her chest flushed against his, she's commenting on how she loves the feel of his hairy chest, praised-filled moans as she comments on his pecs flexing under her.

Brahms bucks his hips into his hand, "Hold you close." He moans as he pictures rolling on top of her, her legs wrapping around his lower half, arms pulling him in close, whispering in his ear,

"Brahms cum in me, cum in me, make me yours." He grips squeeze around his cock, imaging it's her pussy clenching around him, "I love you, Brahms."

He hisses as his body shakes, muscles flexing, toes curling as he snarls out his release. The image of her accepting his seed sends heat washing over him. His cock pulses in his grip, his cum spraying over her nightgown, the remaining spilling down his fingers and cock.

His temples pulse, his ears ringing. His toes unfurling as his legs ceased in their shakes. He squeezes his cock a few more times, hearing her breathlessly thanking him, "It's so warm in me. Thank you, Brahms." He swears he can feel her nuzzling into his chest as if she was there.

Brahms coughs as he sits up, shaking his head as he gingerly throws his legs over the side, placing his feet on the door. The nightgown falls over his cock. He snorts, using it to clean himself. He stands up, placing the nightgown where he had found it. A wicked and mischievous grin spreads over his face at the thought of her wearing his spent at night.

He grunts as he retrieves his trousers, pulling them up in haste, tucking his chub back in. A content sigh as he eyes the bed and nightgown. She wouldn't be sleeping alone for much longer.

Brahms snaps his attention to the trill of his front doorbell. He clicks his tongue as he makes haste to the door. He debates on if he has time to properly clean his hand, decides to just wear a fancy white-glove he leaves, conveniently, near the front door instead.

"Coming! My Maid is out currently," He sucks in a breath as he pulls a glove over his right hand, he cocks his head quickly before opening the door. "Sorry, it'd have been answered sooner...who are you?"

Brahms stared down at the short man before him. His brown hair combed expertly to the side, his brows immaculate under his thick glasses. He wore a glowering expression, his lips in a tight line.

The man clears his throat, "Herbert, Herbert West." Brahms makes note of his American accent, "I believe this paper is for the lady of this residence." Herbert whips the paper in front of him, his expression changing to say "Well, hurry and take it!"

"Mr. West."

"Herbert."

"Herbert, If by Lady you mean, Gerti? She passed awa-"

"I don't mean your dead wife."

Brahms's eyes narrow at Herbert. He opens his mouth the speak.

"I mean, Y/n. She is the only lady living here. So Dan tells me."

Brahms's jaw slackens, "Dan." He says more to himself.

"Yes, it's an invitation to a formal at the university. He already invited her. Just wanted to make sure she got all the details, it's all there on the paper." Herbert whips it again in front of Brahms.

Brahms yanks the paper from Herbert, eyes scanning it wildly.

University of London

Residents of Handel Mansions we formally invite you to bring along the most beautiful dame for the start of our fall formal.

September 28th, 1900

Entrance fee 1 pound, with a beautiful dame on your arm the fee is waved.

Brahms stares back at Herbert who pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well," Herbert begins, "I figured be best to drop it off for Dan. He's been awfully busy." He flashes a smile to Brahms as he turns, "Dan also says to let Y/n know he wishes her luck at her new job on Robitaille's farm." He turns back around to Brahms, "Oh, it was nice meeting you, Mr.?"

Brahms pauses, clearing his throat, "Brahms Heelshire."

Herbert clicks his tongue, "I knew that." He walks down the stairs, a pep in his step, "Was nice meeting you Mr. Heelshire."

Brahms stares at the short man walking away, nodding to a man walking past. He turns back around, slamming the door behind in, the frame shook.

He stares down at the paper, eyes reading it over and over again. "A formal." He starts, "That Dan..." His breath catches in his chest, "A job?" he questions aloud.

He collapses against his door, slumping over as he crunches the paper in his hands. His thoughts raced to her, cursing himself for not intervening that day she ran into Dan. Wishing he just took the reprimand from his employer and raced in to shove Dan away from you. Creating some fantastical lie as to why he was suddenly there.

Brahms's thoughts slip to his son. Lawrence, his green eyes shine whenever he and Y/n play. He hugs her like he did his mother. How y/n always promises to play with him, tuck him at night. How were you going to tuck him in if you were to be away? How were you going to be there to kiss his little cheek as he falls asleep?

"How are you going to be there for me?"

#brahms heelshire #Brahms x reader #Brahms x you #Brahms imagine #Brahms heelshire x reader #Brahms heelshire x you #Female reader #Slasher x reader #Slasher x you #Slasher imagine #Herbert West #Dan Cain #Smut #Lemon #Victorian AU #Victorian era #late victorian era #edwardian era

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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years ago

Text

Time To Trust - The Devil´s Daughter Chapter Five (Lucifer Morningstar x Daugther!Reader)

[Lucifer-Masterlist], [The Devil´s Daughter-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: Arriving at the precinct made you more nervous than you would have liked to admit. Dan only meant well & you trusted him, right? So why were you so damn anxious? Maybe because you knew you had to give him some answers sooner rather than later & you were not ready to do that just yet.

Words: 1,402

Warnings: (thank you for sticking around even after months of radio silence), pretty much a filler to get back into writing (I do have a lot of stuff planned though, things will start happening soon), fear of not being enough, awful cliffhanger, language (the usual), mentions of anxiety

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The ride gave you the chance to actually take in the beauty of the city. Yes, when you wandered around the other day you managed to see a few parts but now, sitting in a car, made everything way realer to you. Neither of you talked during the ride, enjoying the comfortable silence between the both of you. It kind of scared you. How could you trust a stranger after such a short time? Dan might not be a stranger anymore but it was not like you knew him well either. The radio was quietly emanating some tunes you did not know but soon, you found yourself humming with the beat. Dan took a look at you & smiled at your actions. You seemed way more comfortable & fearless looking out of the window. He just hoped he could help you find an actual place to stay. Not that he minded having you with him but he just assumed that you would get bored rather quickly. Besides, he knew there had to be more behind your façade. Something you clearly had not shown just yet. For a second, he debated bringing up the conversation you had last night, but decided against it. Maybe you would feel better at the L.A.P.D., with professionals around. Yes, he was a professional himself but right now he was not working. Just a few more minutes & he would find out.

As the car came to a stop, you noticed that you had zoned out for a bit. The sound of Dan’s car door shutting made you look at him. Before you could move to open your door, Dan beat you to it & helped you out. Not that you needed help but it still felt good to have someone who looked out for you. Like Michael when you were in heaven…No! Stop that! No more thinking about heaven & the angels. THIS was your new life, you had other things to worry about. For example, handling the questions you were sure you were about to get as soon as you walked into the precinct.

“You ready to do this?” Dan asked.

“Do what, exactly?” you uncomfortably chuckled. Your eyes met his briefly but before he could actually comment on the look you gave him, you quickly made your way to the entrance & tried to hide your anxiety with a witty remark.

“Climbing stairs to get to the door or opening the door to enter?” a sarcastic smirk was plastered on your face and Dan looked like he bought it. All he did was shaking his head, chuckling & following after you. Before you could push the door open, Dan’s hand was placed beside you & he opened it for you.

“Actually, this door is rather heavy, I got it. No need for you to exhaust yourself first thing in the morning.” you knew he was joking but you could not help but let your thoughts wander to a dark place again. That was one of your biggest insecurities. Feeling like you cannot accomplish simple tasks on your own. God had told you that you were too fragile. So most of the times you ended up feeling like you were not good enough. That no matter what you tried, nobody appreciated it because in the end, there was always someone who could do it better than you. Trying to push down your feelings, you shot a polite smile Dan’s way & entered without saying anything else. Dan stopped briefly, looked after you & wondered if he had said anything wrong. He expected another sarcastic comment from you, just like you had acted the entire morning with him. It did not come, though. He figured you were just nervous about what expected you inside. Yeah, that had to be it.

You felt another presence on your left & without looking up, you knew it was Dan. Slowing down a little bit, you let him lead you through the precinct. Surprisingly, there were not a lot of people at work. You blamed the time, even though it was not that early. Not that you cared much anyway. A door came into view & Dan approached it. You assumed that it would be where his coworkers asked you the so dreaded questions. What were you supposed to say? Should you make up a story? Should you make up a fake last name? A fake family? That way your possibilities of being left alone would be higher. But wait a minute…Did you even want to be left alone? It did not work out well for you last time & you kind of liked Dan. He was nice. On the other hand, though, you knew you could not stay with him. It would end up in you bothering the shit out of him & obviously, that was not your intention.

You fell behind a few steps because your thoughts consumed you once again. Before Dan could open the door, you jogged up to him & beat him to it.

“See? That door is much heavier & I’m doing just fine.” you turned around so your back was against the door, holding it open. Your arms crossed over your chest & you popped your hip out, signaling that you were mocking him & his previous actions. He laughed at you once more & walked past you into the rather cold looking room. Pushing yourself off the door, you took a look at the desk in the middle of the room. There was one single chair & …handcuffs? Wait, Dan would never hold you hostage, right? He was a cop, that was probably just one of the interrogation rooms. Or so you hoped. Maybe you were too naïve & you would face your death more sooner than later. STOP! Just stop thinking…

“No need to be scared, these are for the bad guys, not you.” Dan spoke up after you eyed the handcuffs a little too long & your face turned into one of pure concern.

“Kinky.” was your only answer, you even managed to keep a straight face.

“You’re something else, do you know that?” he was amused by your behavior but he liked you that way. It was like another girl was standing in front of him if he had to compare you to last night.

“Oh, I’ve heard that line a billion times, trust me.” you faked a smile. It was not like there were any happy memories connected to those words but Dan did not need to know that just yet. Or ever, for that matter.

“Hey, how about you take a seat & I’ll be right back, okay?” his words made you look up to him & you gave a simple nod as answer. After Dan took off, you decided against sitting down. Your anxiety was on edge & you could not even explain why. You were an angel, for fuck’s sake, why could you not chill? Pacing the room seemed like a good enough distraction, at least until Dan showed up again. Would he be alone or with his coworkers? That thought made you even more anxious. Yes, you were comfortable around Dan but the idea of another person asking you weird questions left you uneasy. Well, you could request to talk to Dan alone, right? There was nothing wrong with that. Besides, you were in an interrogation room, you were probably being observed right now, pacing like a crazy person. Ugh, just stop already…

The fact that someone could be watching you right now made you take a deep breath. Calming yourself would be convenient in your situation. You were fine, Dan would not have brought you here if he were not sure it would help you. After another deep breath, you finally sat down on the chair & began playing with the handcuffs so your hands were not shaking as much. Having something to play with helped distracting you & a distraction was very much needed.

You looked up as soon as you heard the door opening. The first person you saw was Dan but you could tell that there was another one right behind him. He moved aside a little & you found yourself staring at someone you would have never thought to meet so soon.

“Hello there, (Y/N), right?” the voice simply stated but you were too shocked to answer right away.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (03/15/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @fandomqueen2003, @natashaashleymarvelromanoff, @severewobblerlightdragon, @tenderlyunlikelyexpert, @zoseph, @suffering-canucks-fan, @dad-ee-drea, @xbarrjallenx, @marvelofwitch, @aceofspace95, @julessbrown, @thevelvetseries, @kotkaniemi-caufield-mom, @crumpets-are-better-with-jam, @strangewhovian-blog, @officialfictionalwreck (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

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alittledizzy · 5 years ago

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29 Things I Love About Dan

1. That he came out to his family via email. Aspirational.

2. Dude really, really loves his grandma.

3. That one time at a book signing when the bookstore overpromised tickets and there was a dad that was really upset because his daughter had been waiting in line so long and didn't get to meet them. The dad was just shouting at Dan and Phil and everyone else was trying to just quickly walk on but Dan stopped, turned around, and talked to the dad.

4. That he's the first person to defend someone he loves in any situation where he even perceives they're being shit upon, but in the same breath will make fun of them himself. He's the epitome of older brother attitude.

5. He spends a lot of money on clothes but then he wears what he buys every single day for a span of at least a year so he does at least get his money's worth.

6. That time on vyou when someone asked him what he looks for in a girl and his answer was the ring that fell off his hand last time that he really wants back.

7. His reaction to the Phil's wife story. I still laugh thinking about Sabrina and Lola. In the process of answering that he made a remark about how Phil leaves to go with his 'real' family and sometimes that just latches itself onto my brain. There was a similar comment during the blue/gold dress debate where Phil referenced Dan in with family and it's just... like, yeah, they're in love, they're in a relationship. But they're not just partners, they are full on out and out family to each other and that Dan found that at a time when he was so scared and felt so isolated with his own family is worth everything.

8. The depth of feeling in his voice during that one "Katie, Katie, Katie... Katie, Katie, Katie. No." liveshow answer. You know the one. He was having none of that and if Katie got verbally incinerated in the process of his answering, so be it.

9. When he'd be doing a liveshow and get on a tangent and end up talking about condiments or dips for like four minutes straight.

10. The way he never minded putting someone on blast that pissed him off but knew that it bothered Phil so he would consult with Phil first sometimes but then if the situation actually involved Phil being hurt in some way all bets were off he Was naming that trainer that made Phil puke he did not Care if Phil gave him an alias for the video Kai deserved what he got for pushing Phil too far.

11. That after a decade he still wants to impress Phil's family by doing things like cleaning before they come and making them all coffee.

12. And yet still made a cake to give to Phil in front of them that talked about wanting to see Phil's ass. The duality of man is real, indeed.

13. Nicer Internet. Young Minds. Make-a-Wish. Mermaids. He only just came into his own with being charity-minded in the last few years and I don't for a second doubt he does more privately than publicly and probably has some mental spirals about using his platform vs being accused of virtue signaling. But this is just one way I love watching him find his footing in the world as an adult with privilege.

14. He introduced an important word to my personal lexicon with Haru and I'd like the rest of the world to catch on because it's just a very specific action of lying while obviously lying and pretending you aren't lying and I love it.

15. When he was fifteen he was so in his emo kid feelings that he wanted black angel wings tattooed on his back.

16. That little tune he'd hum when he was trying to space out thoughts during liveshows.

17. That somehow he beat all the odds and is best friends with the first person he subscribed to (Bryony) and in a relationship with his teenage self's favorite youtuber (Phil, obviously). Teenage Dan had a really shit time of almost everything but in that one specific 'meet your idols' area he was truly blessed with all of the luck.

18. "All I can taste is cherry, all I can smell is cherry, all I can hear is cherry and all I can feel is cherry. Can't really see much though."

19. The fact that he owned up to previous bad takes and opinions and deleted old videos and tweets.

20. Litralee.

21. They originally wanted Phil to run the board at the radio show but he did such a bad job of it after the first episode that they gave it to Dan instead, and I think for someone with zero radio work experience or training Dan did an amazing job. He may spend a lot of time doubting himself but when a spotlight is on him he's clever and confident and adapts quickly.

22. The way when he says 'at all' he still sounds like his five year old self.

23. That he tried to run the marathon last year, and didn't, and tried again this year. When you're someone that fears judgement for your failures and knows everything you do is scrutinized by a very large audience - not just fans but people waiting for you to fail so they can report on that, too - sharing in that way seems like it would be really hard. It was shit luck that he couldn't run it this year either but I have faith he's gonna cross that finish line because the man Dan Howell has turned into goes after what he wants and fuck what anyone else thinks or expects of him.

24. That one liveshow they did without pants. You know that was Dan's idea. Phil is a respectable young man who does not go live on the internet to thousands of people in just his underwear. But Dan? Dan would. Dan does. And Dan is a terrible blerson.

25. That in a video to ten million people he said with his whole chest that his relationship with Phil made him feel safe for the first time since he was a small child. And like, yeah, sure, I'm infatuated with their relationship so it made me happy on a personal level. But beyond that; putting words to things is clearly not easy for Dan. It took him decades to acknowledge he was gay to himself. It took decades plus a little to tell his family. Sometimes it doesn't matter how much people know things, giving it a label is fucking scary and I think his fear of labeling his relationship with Phil (to the public) felt like a different kind of exposure than just his sexuality and he still faced them both.

26. He clearly has a very complicated relationship with his parents and family in general but that one story he told about being young and on holiday to Disneyland Paris and his mum is terrified of roller coasters but went on one with him like six times because she didn't want him to be alone. I'm glad through all the badness and doubt and fear he's had at how conditional his parents' love might be, that he had those good memories as well.

27. It was Dan that coined the phrase 'post-baking universe.' He's very aware of the stages of their life and his growth and he shares that self-awareness with the viewers even if he doesn't share all the depth of reasoning behind them. (He also coined the term 'phan' but in that instance I think uhh he didn't know what he was doing so.)

28. That he's learned better coping mechanisms than lashing out online. That he's got therapy now and the option for medication when he needs it. That depression doesn't go away but he knows he has options and support now.

29. He's given us almost a decade of content to watch and rewatch and enjoy and view through the different lights of his growth and our own growth, and who knows what the future will hold.

Okay, last minute addition - we'll call it one to grow on:

30. That Starcourt selfie.

#phan #meta

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peter-pan-on-neverland · 4 years ago

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Opposites Attract

Request: hey may I request a one shot for your Peter Pan story if yes can you, use my real name (Zai) instead of Y/N if you please and can you have me pans total opposite like sweet, shy everything he would hate but in the end he falls for her and becomes really protective

Pairing: Pan x Zai

Warning: None

Part 2 >

It was so surreal, everything around me seemed to move in slow motion as if I were a character stuck inside of a movie, high pitched ringing pierced through my ears and stung my brain like a thousand tiny knives pricking it. An uncontrollable tremble grabbed a hold of my body refusing to let go, toying with my muscles as though I were nothing but a puppet on a string dancing for the demon that now had possession of my tiny frame.

The air was cold, so very cold, nipping and scratching at my fare skin as I silently sat on the leaf-covered floor. So many questions ran through my mind, too many to count, too many to keep ahold of. What was this dark place I had found myself in?

Dirt and pinecones filled my nostrils as I took heavy, deep breaths in and out, in and out, in and out.

A pair of eye's shot daggers at the back of my head, sending shivers to travel up and down my spine. The knotting in my stomach became apparent, growing tighter and higher by the second. I tried my hardest to fight off the fear which coursed through my veins and stole my heart, but I couldn't. There was no power in the world, no bribe was big enough, and no prize was worthy enough to get me to turn around and meet the eyes staring at me.

As time passed I felt more and more eyes creep up behind me, taking their place and just silently watching. That's when I heard them, footsteps, shuffling, whispers in the night running through to cold air from person to person, or perhaps from monster to monster.

"What have we got here boys?" A jovial voice sounded, too old to be a child's but it held the power and wisdom of a thousand lifetimes.

"We-we think it's a girl, Pan." Another said.

Pan, so that was the creature's name. In any normal circumstance, someone might jump for joy at the sign of another person, but this was no normal circumstance and the confirmation of other people only made my skin crawl. Every red flag was waving and alarm bell ringing, I was not safe, not one bit.

"She might be dead, or unconscious," Someone sounded, "she hasn't moved in a while."

Whoever this Pan was leant down close to me, so close I could feel his breath travel down the nape of my neck. He placed two gentle fingers on my pulse, paying for a second.

"She's not dead," He confirmed, "James and Dan set up a tent for her, Felix see if she has any wounds and take care f them if she does."

It was Clear Pan had authority over everyone else there as if he were some kind of mayor or leader, the boys named did nothing to displease him as their footsteps grew quieter and quieter.

"Where are you going, Pan?" A rather deep, husky voice spoke, curiosity dripping off every word yet he was confident in his ways. Maybe he was somewhere higher up on the food chain in this strange land that he had to power to question and possibly even disobey.

"To ask the shadows why they bought a bloody girl to the island." His tone had changed, sounding more aggravated than intrigued.

There were no other words exchanged between the two and I could feel myself being lifted off the cold ground, I felt weightless in the arms of this stranger that I was too afraid to look at.

Perhaps I would become a burden to the boy, but I had no energy left to think about that, I had no energy left to think about anything. I wanted nothing more than to drift off into a peaceful sleep but my body would not allow it for the danger had not yet passed, it kept trying to fight and fight but finally lost the battle and sleep had won out.

I woke up, my head pounding like there was no tomorrow. I found myself in a white tent, laying upon a mattress, only a thin blanket keeping the cold from consuming me. Swinging my legs over the side of the make-shift bed I walked towards the fabric flaps, sunlight poured into the room as I pulled them back, almost blinding me.

A tall figure hovered over me, blocking out the sun. For a split second, he looked like a dark, black giant but once my eyes adjusted I took a closer look at his face. Is pale blue eyes stared at mine for what seemed like a few minutes, becoming familiar with my brown ones. I noted down the scar that ran down his cheek, how did he get it?

"Pan," He called, "she's awake."

My eyes averted to the boy, who looked no older than seventeen, quickly stalking towards us. Panic flashed through my body enduring my paralyzed, there was nothing I could do but watch as they got closer and closer despite the urge of wanting to run and flee.

His eyes stood out to me the most, the vibrant green colour seemed to radiate off him, capturing and gaze and holding it there. This boy had power, that much was obvious, what scared me was how he used it. There's no doubt in my mind that he could mortally wound or even kill me if I looked at him the wrong way, the safest route is to be obedient otherwise I could end up dead.

"Follow me." He said sternly, I didn't dare speak, I didn't dare to even breathe I just nodded my head in his direction before silently following after him like a little lost puppy.

One step after another I felt more and more eyes scanning over my body, however, I would never meet anyone's gaze. I wouldn't dare give any of these people the satisfaction, after all, they still need to tell me how I got here in the first place. I felt like an animal caged up in the zoo, just a pretty and unusual thing for them to stare and gawk at, all the meanwhile missing my home.

A pain shot through my chest, a deep aching at the thought of my family and friends, at the thought of everything I had left behind.

"Sit." The leader spoke, snapping me from my thoughts.

I complied without any issues, placing myself onto the wooden stump poking its head out of the ground to say hello to the golden, glowing sun beaming down on everything below it. I hadn't noticed just how beautiful this place was in the day time, the lush green trees, the birds tweeting, the odd deer walking by before scattering and running off from the wild people whom they shared the land with.

I felt his strange green eyes watching me, finally, I had worked up enough courage to look into them. They were filled with wonder and amazement, much like a child seeing snow for the first time.

"You can start by telling me your name," The boy's thick British accent becoming prominent.

"Zai," I whispered, nearly audible but he heard it and so did the forest.

"Zai," He repeated as if he were testing out how my name sounded on his tongue, "Cute. Now, what are you doing on my island?"

Oh, so it was his island.

"I don't know," I said, my tone sickly sweet but the boy in front of me could tell I was being genuine.

"You're a strange one aren't you?" He claimed, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear an act that made my cheeks turn a deep shade of red as I desperately tried to hide my face from his view.

I should be afraid, I should be terrified, running for the hills and never looking back. There was danger behind those vibrant green orbs, so much danged but for some reason that only drew me in more. The very thing that should make me leave is the same exact thing compelling me to stay, how can that be?

I had never been one for diving into the deep end or taking risks, I liked to be in control of my fate and how everything played out, I know this boy could never give me security so why am I being pulled closer and closer t him?

He's attractive yes, as if he were chiseled by the God's themselves, but it's more than that, it's deeper than that. The risk, the excitement of it all is what drew me in and managed to hold me there. Maybe staying here wasn't as big of a heartache as I previously thought.

"Well I guess that's irrelevant, I'll be sending you home now." He announced.

"What makes you think I want to go home?" I asked, standing up defensively.

He raised a single eyebrow at me, the expression on his face caused me to shiver, "So you want to stay little one?"

I could feel a smile creeping its way onto my face at his words, "Perhaps to do, I could be of use to you,"

I desperately tried to come up with a list of jobs I could do just so he could let me stay, although I was still scared I had this feeling deep inside on me. Way down in my bones as if I were meant to be here as if my soul belonged here.

"I can cook." I blurted out.

Only to be met with a smirk, "My boys can cook too."

"I can clean," I said.

"So can my boys." The leader retaliated.

"Can they?" I asked, raising my eyebrow to him, mimicking his previous actions, he gave a low husky chuckle to my somewhat sassy comment.

"Oh, I'm sorry princess, is it not up to your standard?" The boy smirked in return, toying with me a little. He could sense when I was on edge, I knew he could, maybe a skill he had picked up in the years that he had been alive.

"Please, I'll do anything, anything you ask of me!" I pleaded, hoping and praying that he would allow me to reside here with him.

"It doesn't matter what you want." His demeanor suddenly turning nasty at the flip of a switch, the green eyed boy stalked closer and closer to me until my back had been pressed against a tree, leaning down he whispered, "I don't have girls on my island, you're weak I have no need for your kind."

I felt my blood being to boil, this misogynistic-

I held myself back from doing something that I regret, out of the fear that I could possibly end up dead at any second.

"Maybe they are where you're from," I said in a low yet innocent tone, my words sounding like a smooth lullaby slipping into his mind, "But I am different."

"Fine, I'll be interested to see how long you last around here." He stated, "I'll get Felix to show you around."

He took a few steps back, giving me the space that I craved. I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding in until now. Pan's comment not only sprinkled fear and dread into me once more but also seemed to excite me as if I had something to prove to these people. One thing was apparent, they were not people I wanted to play with or tourment. I was better off just seeing how this plays out and trying not to end up dead in the process.

Within the day I had circled around the island twice seeing all the beautiful sights and scenery as Felix, who is the second in command around here, told me what was what. His explanations were only met with a nod as I was far too shy and nervous to open my mouth around him or any of the boys for that matter. Luckily for me, Felix wasn't much of a talker either, we spent most of our little adventure in awkward silence.

The more I explored the more I wanted, no longed to stay here. The crystal blue seas, the majestic waterfalls, the tall towering trees, and the white sandy beaches. This place seemed like paradise, shame the people who inhabited it didn't radiate the same energy.

The once pale blue sky turn to a dark navy as tiny, white sparkling dots hang high in the sky, a roaring fire was situated in the middle of the camp the boys all sat around eating, laughing, and having a good time. They all seemed so happy, yet the damage behind their eyes was apparent, they all had the same look behind them.

I felt a presence sit down beside me, "Zai," they spoke, to which I said nothing. I didn't turn my head to look at the person whose voice I had heard not hours before.

Before I knew what was happening a hand was placed under my chin, forcing me to look in their direction, "It's not a wise idea to ignore me, little one."

"Sorry," I whispered, I knew he heard my faint words but I wasn't entirely sure they made that much of a difference.

"Funny, just hours ago we were having a perfectly fluent conversation and now you seem so shaken up you're hardly getting your words out, tell me, why is that?" He knew what he was doing, it was apparent, he knew he had the upper hand, he knew I was still scared.

I shrugged at their so-called king, not giving him the satisfaction he craved, he wanted me to squirm, but I wouldn't allow that to happen.

As the days went by my shyness didn't disappear or get easier, in fact, it seemed to get worse. I was on edge, especially around Pan, it wasn't hard to tell that the boy was ruthless.

It was hot, the sun beaming down on the island. We all slowly walk deeper and deeper into the forest the boys not only thankful for the shade but excited for the activities ahead. Pan had promised us a game of target practice, something that I had learned I was terrible at.

Silently, I watched from afar as the boys took turns shooting apples off one another head. Of course, there were many injuries but they loved the thrill of it. I got many stares, none of which I paid any attention to, but what riled me up the most were to comments.

"What's she even doing here?"

"Why would Pan allow a girl into the camp?"

"Look at her she wouldn't even hurt a fly."

"She doesn't have what it takes to be one of us, she's too sweet."

"I wish she would just go back to where she came from."

Biting my tongue, I tried not to let their words get to me. Sometimes I fantasize about those boys tied to a tree, no means of escape or survival, I would pull the arrow back tight, stretching the string of the bow before letting go. The arrow would soar through the air before landing deep into their skulls with a satisfying think, bullseye.

I could feel the wicked smile on my face grow as my heart became that little bit darker. What was wrong with me? I had never wished ill will upon anyone before, so why was I starting to know. Maybe it was the island, supplying me with anger as if it were some kind of git, some means for survival if in a wretched yet beautiful place.

Suddenly, everything stopped and silence grabbed hold of everyone around. My interest was peaked, I rose from my makeshift seat to see what was going on. There the leader of the lost boys had one of his very own pinned to a tree by an invisible force, choking and spluttering as his legs kicked and kicked.

I wasn't sure what had brought this on, but my gaze was held hostage by the scene unfolding before me, the boy begged and begged apologizing relentlessly, but none of that mattered to Pan. We all stood there and watched, some boys with tears in their eyes as their friend asked for mercy and was not given it, I almost felt bad for the boy until I had realized who it was.

Adam, the little ring leader of the group of boys who liked to push my buttons.

We all looked on as the light slowly left his eyes, his cold body slumped to the floor, no one dared to move.

"Fun's over boys," His powerful voice boomed, echoing all over the forest, "Get back to work."

One by one the boys went back to camp, they were shaken up, but not as bad as I was. I still felt a sense of remorse for the poor boy, but the more I reminded myself of all the things he said the sad about it I felt. I still wasn't able to take my eyes off his lifeless body until there was no one else around apart from Pan.

I looked up at him, but no words left my mouth, they were all choked up in my throat. The smirk on his face let me know he was proud of what he had accomplished a minute ago, what kind of a monster was he?

He left, leaving a wink as his parting gift to me.

A cold shiver ran down my spine, I didn't like what he had done and worst of all I didn't like how he had just made me feel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you guys like part 1!!

#ouat #ouat fic #ouat fandom #ouat ff #ouat season 3 #ouat neverland #ouat lost boy #ouat peter pan #ouat pan #ouat pan x reader #ouat felix #ouat felix x reader #felix x reader #peter pan x reader #pan #pan x reader

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lamortexiii · 4 years ago

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Cryptic Mystic: What’s Your Sign?

Many of us are fascinated by astrology and all things outer space related. The great unknown that is beyond the stars has been a hot topic for centuries. But, how did the zodiac begin? What makes astrological signs and the alignment of planets and stars so magical? Is it truly prophetic? Does your sign define your personality, past, present, and future? Or is this simply another product of the Barnum Effect?

So I’ll start by asking the obvious: “what’s your sign?” I’m a Leo through and through. While I’m skeptical about the claims of some astrological signs and their relation to my life on a daily basis, I do believe there is some truth here - as is with most things. This topic is one that I have been wanting to write about for some time now. I have always found outer space, stars, planets, etc. to be fascinating. As a child, I remember laying in the grass and watching the stars above me. In my little valley in the forest, I could see so many stars that wouldn’t be visible if I were in the city. I am so thankful I had that childhood experience of growing up somewhere where I could truly connect with nature and the simple things around me that most take for granted on a day-to-day basis. I still stargaze to this day, but I can’t see near as many as I once did in my childhood forest valley home. I’ve seen a plethora of shooting stars throughout my lifetime, two meteor showers, two solar eclipses, and plenty of unidentified objects that were likely satellites… or were they…?

One time when I was driving home from work late one night I saw something that befuddled me. As I drove down the winding 2 lane highway in the darkness of the night I saw what appeared to be a helicopter hovering right above the trees. Now, this area I was driving through was rural. There are few houses in those woods, but there are some. The backroads leading to the site where the “helicopter” was hovering are seldom traveled, especially this late at night. I began processing the event in my mind and questioning if it was a helicopter, why would it be hovering so low and what exactly would it be doing in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. It just didn’t make sense. I thought about logical explanations and could only come up with one. There is the slim possibility that someone driving on one of the many backroads in that area may have got into an accident and was getting airlifted to a hospital. I’ve seen it happen before on backroads near there. Aside from this idea, I had nothing. By this point, I had obviously slowed down so I could get a better look. Hell, there wasn’t any traffic so it’s not like I was worried about causing an accident or anything. As I looked closer I noticed it wasn’t a helicopter at all. There were about 4-6 large bright lights shining down below the area that the craft was hovering over. The circumference of this craft was much wider than a helicopter - more circular. The lights were far too big and far too bright. Whether it was fear, shock, tiredness, or my stomach growling, I continued to drive on and leave the peculiar scene behind. Now, I know this has nothing to do with astrology or zodiac signs, but it is an interesting story nonetheless.

In reference to zodiac signs, I find that descriptions of a Leo with my particular birthdate are genuinely pretty accurate when describing my personality and conflicts. However, the daily horoscopes are definitely not accurate in my experience. I will say that when I read/listen to them I try to apply something positive from the reading to my daily life. I engage in a deeper thought process and practice mindfulness throughout the day, keeping that positive focus within my mind on the positive message I am supposed to be implementing into my day. I have also found that compatibility readings have been somewhat inaccurate as far as certain zodiac signs getting along or not getting along with other zodiac signs. The biggest obvious red flag for me is how many different sources there are. And guess what? They all say something different on the daily. If zodiac signs and horoscopes are supposed to be accurate, then why don’t all individuals who report them online all say the same thing - or at least something similar?? To play devil's advocate here, I did say earlier that I believe there is some truth to all of this, which is why it interests me so much and also why I believe in this stuff to a degree. There is a lot of magical and wondrous history to unpack in regards to the zodiac and horoscopes. So, let’s jump right in, shall we?

Interesting fact: the word zodiac is derived from Greek terminology meaning “circle of little animals.” We’re a circle of little animals - cute visuals there, eh? Hieroglyphs in Egypt dating as early as the 14th century BC were found to contain a circle of decans (constellations) depicting something that looks a lot like the constellations and zodiac symbols that we know today. In total there were 36 decans found within the temple.

During the first half of the first millennium, Babylonian astronomers created our modern zodiac. They also mapped the previous constellations that were seen in the Egyptian hieroglyphs but continued to add more as they were discovered. In the last half of the 5th century, the Babylonian astronomers divided the many constellations into 12 equal "signs” to represent the 12 months of the year at 30 days per month. Each sign contained 30° of celestial longitude, thus creating the first known celestial coordinate system. According to calculations by modern astrophysics, the zodiac was introduced between 409 and 398 BC and probably within a very few years of 401 BC. Unlike modern astrologers, who place the beginning of the sign of Aries at the place of the Sun at the vernal equinox, Babylonian astronomers fixed the zodiac in relation to stars, placing the beginning of Cancer at the "Rear Twin Star" (β Geminorum) and the beginning of Aquarius at the "Rear Star of the Goat-Fish" (δ Capricorni). Due to the precession of the equinoxes, the time of year the Sun is in a given constellation has changed since Babylonian times, the point of vernal equinox has moved from Aries into Pisces.

You’ll be pleasantly surprised, intrigued, or disgusted to know that all of this does have some roots within religion. The Hebrew Bible shows knowledge of the Babylonian zodiac. E. W. Bullinger noted that the drawings found in the book of Ezekiel were quite similar to the middle four quarters of the zodiac (Lion/Leo, Bull/Taurus, Man/Aquarius, Eagle/Scorpio). You read that right, Scorpio is noted as being an eagle - not a scorpion. Some say that the twelve tribes of Israel are correlated with the zodiac signs found within the Hebrew 12 month calendar. There is an argument that the position of the Israelic tribes around the Tabernacle from the book of Numbers correlates with the exact order of the zodiac, with Judah, Reuben, Ephraim, and Dan representing the middle signs of Leo, Aquarius, Taurus, and Scorpio, respectively. It is shocking how I have heard religious people in modern times talk about how this is all a bunch of garbage, even though some of this is literally correlated with items from the Bible.

To explain daily horoscopes and the connection between the stars, planets, and our zodiac signs, you must engage in a bit of math (yuck). When planets and constellations of the zodiac would align, the Babylonian astronomers of that time would note the experiences that people had and found similarities. These experiences, along with the position of the Earth, Sun, Moon, and constellations and the positions relative to the zodiac signs were stored within a catalogue. This went on for several years and is essentially what began our modern-day daily horoscope. However, it is my personal opinion that a lot of these “professionals” who have their own magical websites where you can get a free daily horoscope, just make shit up to sound interesting. That is obvious by the previously mentioned differentials found within each page. I encourage you to do a quick Google search and you’ll see what I’m talking about. This ties into the belief that the Barnum Effect is in play here. You’ll remember the Barnum Effect from last month's blog. If you haven’t read the June 2021 blog The Imaginarium of Barnum, I suggest you head there next to get a deeper understanding of what I’m talking about before you continue reading. Much of what is broadcasted in daily horoscopes, zodiac sign descriptions, and even within mediumship and tarot readings is full of extremely vague generalities. Because the information is presented in such a vague and generalized way, it then becomes an instance where anyone could apply any of the information to their life in some way. So as you can see, there is some psychological manipulation at play here. Now, I am not saying this is true for all who present the information. I will say that there are A LOT of shams out there. I have seen far more fake sites/readings/etc. than I have seen legit ones. If I had to give a percentage from my personal experience, I’d say about 85% of what I’ve seen is bullshit. But you choose what you believe at the end of the day. I just ask you to keep an open mind and a wise eye about you when scanning the web for horoscopes, zodiac information, tarot, and mediumship.

All of this information is interesting to stew on within your mind. I hope that you learned something new. I know I did when I was researching this topic for the blog. The religious ties were the most surprising thing to me. What did you find most interesting? Drop a comment under the blog on Tumblr or under the Instagram post for this month’s blog and let me know. Tonight if you are able, take a look at the stars and see if you can find the constellations. The plethora of shapes within the brightest stars are brilliant to gaze upon. Who knows, maybe you will find your zodiac constellation. Maybe you will depict a new constellation on your own by combining different combinations of stars. Or maybe you’ll see something that you can’t explain…

Cryptic Mystic Blog by PsychVVitch @psychvvitch

www.LaMorteXiii.com

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scribbleseas · 4 years ago

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The Indignant Pawn, Chapter V: The Extent of Language

Description: You are Y/n Y/l/n- formerly known as Princess Helena, the runaway princess.

You're an assassin for hire who only agrees to find the worst of London's criminals at the business end of your knife; until a mysterious woman hires you to end the likes of Ciel Phantomhive, the King of the Underworld. You find yourself trading your weapons for your abandoned family crest in order to infiltrate his home as none other than Princess Marie-Louise, your twin sister. What's to happen when you find that the young Earl is more than a callous businessman?

OVERALL STORY WARNINGS: sexual assault, objectification, misogyny, death, detailed description of blood/gore, detailed description of murder, lying, impersonation, theft, weapons, detailed panic attacks and flashbacks, symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: single mention of self-hatred.

Author’s Note: If you have any questions or concerns about these warnings, please don’t hesitate to contact me!

-Dan

⇠ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER ⇢

. . .

JANUARY 28TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

The riding habit Doña provided you with was much less intricate than your everyday gowns and pumps. The second you had grown accustomed to squeezing into multiple layers of skirts, the leisurely riding habit reminded you of you who truly were. Instead of balancing on the small, dainty heels of the shoes, you were given black boots that buttoned up. They supported your legs and resembled the ones that you had abandoned at Doña’s residence, save for the high quality leather that they were made of.

Oh, how you loved irony.

Even your long navy gown resembled the sensible style you favored between assignments, the long hem lengthening your profile and the sleeves allowing you to tuck your gloves in with ease. The neckline revealed nothing besides the casual white button up that Mey-Rin surprised you with- the collar ended inches above your throat as it served as your innermost layer of clothing. The dark palette of colors would aid in concealing the stain of Lord Phantomhive’s blood when the time came.

You ran your thumb over the engraved lines of your knife’s wooden handle. The divots that you felt helped you focus and the familiar weight of the weapon was a comfort. You memorized each detail of the silver blade’s intricate design; swirls of turquoise, abstract bits of purple and gold leaves, held together by the illustrated vines. The detail ran up the blade spine, but left the tip a plain silver.

It was finally the day that you’d add the Earl to the count of those whose lives you took with that very blade, putting an end to the assignment. Cautiously, you slid the knife into your boot, between your thin stocking and the boot’s rough leather to avoid slicing the skin of your ankle. Your boot was high enough to conceal the whole of the blade- past the silver quillons. Paired with your extra long riding skirts, the weapon was concealed perfectly.

As you went to the front of the estate where you agreed to meet Lord Phantomhive and Sebastian, your heart raced, expecting the violence you had planned- as if it was going to happen at that very moment. The pace of it only picked up as you opened the front door and shut it behind you, revealing the pair. The Earl was scratching the muzzle of a chestnut horse, it was completely tacked and to your surprise, there wasn’t another one. The fact was bewildering until you recalled that it was poor form for a girl; much less a woman, to properly steer and ride her own horse.

Sebastian was the first to speak, and the amusement in his voice was disarming to you. “Guten Tag, Eure Hoheit. Darf ich vorstellen: Autumn, unser zuverlässigstes Clydesdale-Pferd. Ihr und mein Herr werdet sie heute reiten,” (Good afternoon, Your Highness. Meet Autumn, our most reliable Clydesdale horse. You and my master will be riding her today) he said, likely catching the subtle show of irritation that you fought in your face.

“Autumn is quite accustomed to this trail, if it helps to set your mind at ease,” Lord Phantomhive commented, quickly taking in the sight of your dressed down state. Your hair was even out of its braided bun, for the favor of a looser one that was tied with a black ribbon. Stray strands framed your face, falling in strategically curled waves. The adlib strands accentuated the thin pearl choker and matching earrings you had chosen.

“Right, thank you,” you acquiesced, presuming that any sort of protest would be out of character for Marie, or any high ranking woman in general. You stepped down the small stairs, deliberately avoiding the suspicious glare of ice. The last thing you needed was to take a tumble and injure yourself, which heeled boots made it easy to do.

Upon closer inspection, Autumn was a beautiful horse. Her coat stuck out against the white and grey winter terrain and complimented the black tack set and warming blanket. Her neat maine and tail strategically matched her tack.

You ran your hand over Autumn’s neck as Lord Phantomhive hoisted himself onto the saddle by putting one foot through a stirrup and using that as leverage to swing his other leg over the horse’s back. After righting himself, he extended his hand to you, his white pair of gloves matching the ones you sported, making his rings much more conspicuous. “Your Highness,” he spoke, briefly bending his fingers to express that you needed to take his hand- as if you lacked the knowledge of riding etiquette.

After taking a brief moment to stare at the startling sapphire on his ring finger, you accepted his hand and stepped in the stirrup to settle your bottom on the pillion behind the saddle. Vaguely, you could recall that sitting side-saddle required you to both hold on to the driver’s middle with an arm and cross your ankles, allowing your legs to bend naturally from your sitting position. “Thank you,” you quickly let go of his hand, nearly frowning at the loss of warmth. It wasn’t blizzard cold, but it was enough for you to see your breath when you exhaled. As a girl, you liked to pretend you were smoking a cigar right along with the conman; merely breathing out of your mouth while he exhaled smoke through his nose.

You and the Earl fit well on Autumn’s back, who made no effort to protest against your additional weight.

“My Lord,” Sebastian said, handing the reins to the male before you. You noted that he had no horse prepared for himself and frankly, you didn’t care to ask why. Sebastian accompanied his master at nearly every hour. Following you and his master on foot wouldn’t be a feat that surprised you, at this point. “We should arrive at Richmond Park before a quarter after three.” By the last time you looked at your mantle clock in your room, that would mean that the journey to the start of the trail would be a fast fifteen minutes.

“Alright. You’ll walk at least ten paces behind us- understand?” Lord Phantomhive ordered. While he was distracted with commanding his butler, you anchored your arm around his waist as you took in a sharp breath. The gesture was customary and the Earl made no effort to address it, even though you could feel the warmth in your cheeks intensify with each step that Autumn made.

. . .

As he was ordered, Sebastian remained at a considerable distance from you and Lord Phantomhive. If he felt any discomfort from walking in the powdery snow on the trail, he didn’t show it.

You tried to keep your gaze in front of you, watching the gnarled trees on either side of the wide trail, catching the brief sight of families of deer- their hair thicker to suit the cold weather. Red squirrels jumped about the trees, chasing one another and chattering to accompany the light wind. It seemed that everything around you and the Earl was making noise to make up for the cold silence between you. The serenity of the nature surrounding you was too calm to break with needless conversation. There was no point in disturbing that peace in the first place.

You were in the midst of preparing yourself to put an end to this long assignment. To hopefully stab the nobleman from behind and shove his body down the overlook for the vultures. Fending off Sebastian wasn’t any sort of daunting task, considering his physique suggested that he was just as lithe as his master. You were trained to take down opponents such as him.

“We’re nearing the overlook,” Lord Phantomhive said, speaking over the ‘who’ of a snow owl perched on a bare branch above. The bird quickly flew away and you looked up to watch it go, only for the momentum of its push off to cause the bits of snow to fall down onto you. You squeaked in surprise as the snow fell on your hair and down your face, the cold snapping you out of your daze.

You attempted to pat the flurries off of your head and face with your free hand, pausing when the Earl looked over his shoulder to figure the source of your awkward noise. “I-Is something wrong?” he asked as he squared his shoulders once again. The motion drew attention to the way your arm squeezed tightly around his waist, which was another result of your moderate scare. The intensity of it caused him to stutter, considering you were unaware of your own strength in a barest reaction. You loosened your grip instantaneously.

“Only some falling snow,” you briefly met his eye before facing your front once again. “You scared off the owl by speaking so abruptly.” You didn’t need to see the Earl’s face to have a vague idea of his vexed expression.

“Look ahead,” Lord Phantomhive changed the subject tersely, gesturing to the nearling cliff with a slight nod of his head.

“I see it,” you squinted at the bright glare of sunlight that stared you in the face and reflected off the white snow. The trail had been leading upwards for the bulk of the time, carving a safe route up and down a hill. As you neared closer, Lord Phantomhive pulled on the reins, telling Autumn to stop her slow pace.

After dismounting himself, the Earl took your hand in order to help you down once again. Your boots sank in the loose snow, although it was only a few inches deep. It hindered each step that you took as you allowed Lord Phantomhive to pass you to inspect the height of the overlook. You followed in suit, methodically stepping in the tracks that his riding boots made in the snow.

The valley before you was quite a sight to behold. The setting sun casted an orange hue in the sky, pulling out all kinds of pink and purple dimensions in the grey clouds and sky. A thick forest was below, coated in snow and likely rustling with life as the hill was. You could barely see it over the nobleman’s shoulder as you faced his back. Sebastian was occupied with fastening Autumn to a nearby tree, his back turned from you.

“The sun seems to be setting already. I don’t remember this trail being so long,” Lord Phantomhive commented, putting his hands into the deep pockets of his navy overcoat. The color matched yours and you couldn’t help but briefly wonder if that was a coincidence or not.

“Perhaps it was the speed...or, lack thereof,” you suggested, only half-listening to his sentiment. You were staring at his back, quickly running through all of your options.

“If we went any faster, you might’ve lost your balance, Your Highness,” you could hear the smirk in his patronizing tone.

The most efficient way to kill the Earl would be aiming for the base of his neck to sever his spinal cord. However, it was much easier said than done, since it was placed in a clever spot within the vertebrae, otherwise, the bones that made up the spinal column. Between these vertebrae were intervertebral discs- tough, spongy material that cushions the joints, in severing the spinal cord, you needed to cut between the vertebrae and through the disc in a single stab.

The conman marked the exact spot on his own neck for you dozens of times; outlining the steps quite clearly. Once his gaze left you, you bent down to pull your knife out of your boot by the handle and stood back up, your free hand patting at your skirts to fix them. Your heart rate increased as you slowed to a stop, engaging the blade of your knife by holding it flat.

“Sebastian, have you brought any refreshments along?” Lord Phantomhive asked.

It was your quick reflexes that led you to shove your knife into your pocketbag, keeping your hand steady on the handle. You showed yourself to the Earl’s side as you bit the inside of your lip. The opportunity was wasted, which was equally disappointing and frustrating. You’d need to either bide your time and find another chance or follow through at that moment.

“Yes, my Lord,” Sebastian approached you with a familiar tray and two teacups of steaming tea. You couldn’t recall him bringing any of the items, much less the big tray. He was walking behind the horse with empty hands and there were no pouches draped over her back. Odd. “Black Chai Masala; imported straight from Assam, India. This particular selection is served with a combination of milk and a spoonful of sweetener.”

Rather than drink yet another foreign tea, you would have opted for a large glass of hot chocolate. The conman added several teaspoons of milk and mixed it into the boxed mix and water and on top, he added a combination of whipped egg whites and powdered sugar on top. A proper meringue, he called it. As a girl with a demon-like sweet tooth, you demanded it year round- even during the spring and summer. After he was killed, you did everything you could to recreate the taste, but it was never quite right and eventually, you gave up. The despair that came from purchasing the same brand of mix, Baker’s Breakfast neared your capacity for grief.

If Sebastian could offer you a glass of Baxter’s hot chocolate, then you’d happily give up your knife and simply disappear from his master’s life in exchange. But instead, you were holding a cup of Black Chai Masala from India, rather than hot chocolate made from a mix that came in a short tin can.

You stared at the porcelain cup in your hands and rather than drinking it immediately, you simply enjoyed the warmth that seeped through your gloves.

“Is it not to your liking, Your Highness?” Sebastian was asking you why you had yet to sip from your tea in the most demure way possible. Turning to look at him, you took a long drink from the cup, meeting his gaze from the second your mouth made contact with the rim, to the moment you swallowed. The taste was aromatic and smooth, the robust of the chai’s cinnamon standing out to your taste buds.

“It’s fine,” you offered a halfhearted shrug as you faced your front once again. The winter scenery was much more appealing than Sebastian was. Although he was a dashing man, there was an unsettling countenance to him that you couldn’t quite name. “However, I feel that sweeter drinks are more suitable for this weather. Such as hot chocolate.”

“Hot chocolate,” the Earl repeated, his tone warmer than you anticipated. You were expecting a sardonic chortle, or even a long side glance. “That’s a favorite of mine as well.”

“I’ll keep your preference in mind. Thank you,” Sebastian bowed after the Earl took his tea cup off of the server in the butler’s hands.

. . .

FEBRUARY 3RD, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

You watched the mantle clock slowly tick, the thinnest hand marching around the circumference of the face. It changed the time from 11:59 pm to 12:00 am, evidently signifying the start of a new day. February 3rd. The date that made it officially four years since the conman was murdered. Four years since you killed two men, Pete and James, in defense of your innocence.

You already felt empty like a ghost, and you were merely seconds into the day. Rolling onto your back, you let out a long, dismayed sigh. Sleep wasn’t an option and you knew it from the moment you attempted to close your eyes.

The foyer was one of the best rooms in the entire estate, besides your personal quarters. The fireplace was surrounded by loveseats and cushioned sofas and you preferred the smallest couch that was the furthest away from the door. It was brown and upholstered with leather and the soft cushions paired nicely with the thick blanket that normally hung over the armchair. Sitting there, surrounded by the uncovered windows of the room was the safest option for you and the dark mindset you knew you were headed towards.

February 3rd never treated you well and the best you could do was attempt to make it less terrible.

You took your newest book off the nightstand and headed into the corridor. The foyer wasn’t far from your room, it was down the hall and the main staircase and finally, to the left. The way was rather clear with lanterns and candelabras keeping the entirety of the manor free of darkness, which was likely a silent courtesy to you. Under your feet, the wooden flooring was cold and it whined with each quick step you took, much to your dismay. You had no need to summon Lord Phantomhive out of his quarters. You could see a vague light through his open door, which was unusual for the hour.

In fact, finding the Earl covered in a fleece blanket in the foyer was even more unusual. There was a book open in his lap and a steaming glass in his left hand while his right tugged on the corner of the next page of his book, ready to flip. He seemed to be nursing a glass of hot chocolate- the sweet aroma was as clear as day next to the smell of smoke from the tamed fireplace. You were prepared to light it yourself, but for once, it was you who lingered in the doorway. Normally, Lord Phantomhive required permission to enter from you and although by rank, you were able to do as you pleased, it felt wrong to plop down on the leather sofa and recline without a single turn of phrase.

“It’s rather late to be wandering about, Your Highness,” Lord Phantomhive commented without needing to look up from his book. The fleece blanket was placed over his lap and it was large enough to cover his legs, down to the floor. He was dressed down in another oversized shirt, this one a beige or ecru, rather. It made you more aware of your pink nightgown, this one was puffier than most of them, with a droopy bow in the middle of the neckline, covering your sternum. It covered more than the shift you wore on February 3rd, 1888. If you had worn this opulent pink gown to sleep, you might’ve been warmer before it was pulled off of you.

Your pulse raced. “It’s rather late to be reading, Lord Phantomhive,” you smarted to make up for your mouth running dry. You appreciated the company, even if it was only the Earl Phantomhive, your target- your victim.

“I’ll have Sebastian fix you a glass as well,” the Earl’s gaze was still on the text and he slipped the page over. You took his leisure as a gesture to claim your usual seat, which was next to the tall armchair he picked for himself. “He makes a respectable hot chocolate.”

You pulled the blanket over yourself, finding the fabric significantly warmed by the fire. It felt lovely against your clammy skin and the cold draft that came from the window behind you and the nobleman. “I wouldn’t doubt it,” your eyes followed his hand as he gave a small bell three rings, briefly exchanging it for his hot chocolate. It was the first time he looked away from that book and he validated your response with an occupied ‘mhm’.

Under your blanket, you pulled your legs up on the cushion to cross, the left bending under the right. You opened your book, The Tell-Tale Heart by American author and poet, Edgar Allan Poe. Ironically, it was more gruesome for your taste in literature, but in passing conversation with Lord Phantomhive, you concluded that he had quite a brooding taste in fiction. It matched the readings that Governess Lydia piled on your desk as a child, when you had barely learned to read German, much less English. Apparently, she likes her royal heirs properly dulled out by the time they came of age to matter.

“What are you reading?” you questioned, allotting Lord Phantomhive another quick glance to the side while you allowed yourself to lean comfortably against the sofa’s arm. “It must be fascinating if your conversational skills are so lackluster.” You leaned over, tilting away from the small table where he kept his glass of hot chocolate and the bell he used to summon his butler. A familiar illustration covered the entire left page. It was a tall woman, clad in all white, with two polar bears at either of her sides. There was a tall crown on her head, matching the long, regal scepter in her hand. The Snow Queen.

“I see. Children’s tales,” you commented, stealing the Earl’s previous words to twist at him to suit this particular conversation.

“Your Highness,” Lord Phantomhive turned to look at you, “with all due respect, why don’t you focus on your own book?” The orange hues of the fire that was in front of the both of you lit up his face, strategically hiding a faint flush from your sight. His mouth was settled in his natural frown and the bit of space between his eyebrows was wrinkled. The look. Everytime he regarded you like that, it was a minor cause for amusement that ebbed the pain of your past. Teasing the Earl was a comforting distraction; as were the warm blanket, fireplace and hot chocolate.

Was it selfish to want to live in this luxury for at least a few more days?

No.

It wasn’t.

“Mr. Edgar Allan Poe doesn’t strike my interest at this hour,” you responded, skimming over the line of the page you left off on in your last session of reading. “The Tell-Tale Heart is only about the guilt in sin. The theme is clear and personally, all the extra words are just a bother.”

‘Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief…’

“The words are a bother? It’s meant to be poetic,” Lord Phantomhive protested as he closed his own book to properly judge you. You never would have guessed that he was younger than you, even if the difference was only a slim two years. He had the taste of a seventy year old- a senior of whom you’d normally expect to run a business, head a household and carry out the wishes of the Queen.

“Making the thought process of a murderer poetic,” you mused, flipping the page once more. Your mentality looked nothing like this and you’ve done plenty more than killing an old man and stuffing him under the floorboards. There was no guilt to your conscience because every individual you’ve eradicated deserved it for crimes far worse than the hand of justice. “Ironic, is it not?”

“That’s the point. All the guilt in the universe cannot bring that old man back, much less the excess prose,” the Earl turned back to his book and opened it again, sensing that you were finished with the discussion by your lack of response.

Sebastian soon came with hot chocolate for you, moments after he came to ask why his master summoned him. He was rather slow to come, in comparison to the seconds it took him to appear at any other moment, but rather than questioning this, you simply accepted your hot chocolate with a nod.

Naturally, it wasn’t like the conman’s, but the chocolate was quite sweet and even the heavy cream gathered on your lips. The sugar did nothing to stave off the new, comfortable sensation that had your eyelids heavy and back slouching against the arm of your chair. It was completely silent in the foyer; save for the sound of the Earl turning pages of his book and the soft clink of his glass when he put it back on the table between you. Navigating Edgar Allen Poe’s complex words in this state was a lost cause as you grew more drowsy by the second, until you, albeit reluctantly, finally succumbed to a light slumber.

. . .

“Your Highness,” Lord Phantomhive’s voice coaxed you out of your comfortable sleep. You blinked several times before you could clearly see his face in front of yours, a respectful distance away, but at a peculiar level. The Earl was bent down to properly meet your eyes as opposed to looking down at you. Behind him, the fire was dying- the orange embers hidden within the burned wood. The glow made his dark hair look blue, such as the complexion of a fresh bruise, or of the navy riding dress that you wore on the trail five days ago. “We should be retiring about now. It’s rather late.”

“...What time is it?” You reluctantly sat up, cringing at the new soreness in the side of your neck and your shoulder for napping at such an odd angle. Your head used the plush arm of the chair as a pillow, while the rest of your body curled into a ball on the seat portion of the lovechair. Even your knees protested as you straightened them out, your eyebrows knitting in discomfort.

“A quarter past two,” Lord Phantomhive stood to his full height and waited for you to follow in suit. His book, The Snow Queen sat closed on the table, his cardstock bookmark resting on top of it. He must have finished the book while you slept.

“A quarter past two?” You repeated, taken aback while you stood at your feet. The feeling of your own weight on your feet almost felt foreign- odd, along with the cold, solid floor rug beneath you . “Have you been reading that all night?”

“I finished it early on and proceeded to pick up where you left off in The Tell-Tale Heart. I don’t know how you could fall asleep instead of read it.”

“I explained it to you already, my Lord,” besides, it was in English. Poe’s intermingling sentences managed to confuse you now and then, considering you learned the bulk of the language through listening to others on the streets. Middle-class individuals rarely used so many sentences to portray a single idea. Not to mention, the topic disturbed you. It was as if Poe had killed someone and fully knew of the mental obstacles a murderer faces.

“Shall I show you to your quarters?” Lord Phantomhive opened the door of the foyer open for you, leaving the cozy room a mess for Mey-Rin or Sebastian to tidy in a few hours. The hallway was still properly lit for you, which made the layout of the manor much less foreboding as you could see where the corridor led. Uncertainty was the silent killer, after all.

“Would you?” although you were in a surprisingly good mindset considering the date, you had minimal faith that it would continue. If you coil hold onto some peace for the night by allowing the Earl to accompany you, it was worth trying- whether it came from a place of having someone to speak to or merely distracting yourself.

“...Certainly,” the hesitation in front of Lord Phantomhive’s words expressed that he was merely asking as a formality and didn’t expect you to accept the offer. The brief raise of his eyebrows supported that observation and once he noticed that you were staring, he dropped the expression altogether.

. . .

FEBRUARY 14TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

Valentine’s Day- the single most oversold holiday in the world. One that all kinds of companies used to fish money out of men to impress their lovers for the sole purpose of making money. It was a corporate strategy, at most, and yet, the entire world was in love with it. February 14th was the one day out of the whole year where nearly everyone was inexplicably- unbearably, nice.

Naturally, the Phantomhive servants were no excuse. Mey-Rin was somehow, more bubbly than normal- her face was already pink when she woke you that morning and the shade only deepened until you were finally sitting at the breakfast table, where two letters sat on top of your empty place setting.

“These arrived in the postage for you this morning, Your Highness!” Mey-Rin exclaimed, and you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out what worked her up so much. What could be so special about two letters?

“Alright,” you eyed the woman once again as you took your seat, causing her to giggle. As per usual, Lord Phantomhive was late to breakfast, which left his dense pile of correspondences high. It hadn’t taken you long to recognize that this communal breakfast took time out of his morning and out of pity, you decided to allow him work through all of his letters and notes as he ate with you. The minor convenience significantly lifted the jaded chip that resided on his shoulder, although you knew that there was no way it would vanish completely. The chip on the Earl’s shoulder was as constant as yours.

You opened the letter on top and squinted at the miniscule script in the middle of it, the textbook handwriting reading, ‘Prince Aribert of Anhalt, House of Ascania, an Princess Marie-Louise of Schleswig-Holstein’. There was no address on it, which led you to presume that it went through the Queen, who had it hand-delivered to one of the Phantomhive servants. Marie’s location was only supposed to be disclosed to Lord Phantomhive (and his staff), the Queen, and the royal family. That would explain why the letter under the one you picked up was signed by the Queen.

“It’s from your fiancé- oh, I mean, His Highness! On Valentine’s Day! What could it be?” Mey-Rin’s squealing interrupted your train of thought, causing you to briefly look at her. She was staring at the unopened envelope in your hands with the intent a coroner would inspect a dead body. The analogy was…creepy, but for this purpose, it worked.

Slowly, you tore the seal that kept the envelope closed and pulled out the card. The whole of it was a shade of baby pink, reading ‘Eine Botschaft zum Valentinstag’ (A Valentine’s Day Message) in white block letters under a drawing of two doves, sitting on a barren tree branch. On top of both the doves and the brand was lace, sitting on top of the illustrations to make them stand out against the pink background. The cover also served as an envelope in of itself, the top splitting open to expose a shallow patch, but for the time being, you ignored it. You couldn’t help but wonder how much this specialty valentine cost- and which servant of Prince Aribert’s ordered it.

Inside the card was a small piece of paper and a dried white alstroemeria. It was Marie’s favorite flower- she always had a bouquet of it in her quarters, simply sitting next to a window and thriving in water. She adored the little specks of purple on the petals because they gave an objectively boring plant character. You could recognize an alstroemeria anywhere. The fact that this accurate detail was sent was...unsettling, but even so, you gave the flower a sniff to enjoy it’s remaining scent.

You set the flower aside, allowing Mey-Rin to gaze at it from across the table while you picked up the paper.

“Oh, please read it, Your Highness?” She interrupted once again, clearly not noticing the annoyance on your face each time she spoke.

With a sigh, you obliged. Translating from German to English on the spot wasn’t preferable, but you were more than capable of it. “Sonnet 138: When my love swears that she is made of truth,” your face immediately grew warmer as you read the sonnet, some of the pronunciations causing you to stutter. “Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue: On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.”

Just as Edgar Allen Poe overstated the mentality of a murderer, William Shakespeare over complicated love with too many words. Poets all seem to be idealists, viewing the word under the same passion-stained lenses that the common public did on February 14th.

You heard Lord Phantomhive coming before he stopped at the threshold like clockwork, since this occurred at the same time each morning. Still, you continued to read, finishing out the sonnet in one strangled breath, even though it was meant to be read slowly. However, you could bring yourself to inhale and pause when the punctuation called for it- graceful sexual innuendos were far beyond your comfort zone. “Therefore I lie with her and she with me, and in our faults by lies we flattered be. Shakespeare, 1590.”

Quickly, you put the paper down, half-tempted to tear it to shreds right in front of Mey-Rin’s adoring gaze. She was acting as if the prince had written it himself when truthfully, the most creativity he showed was picking a sonnet from the famous poet and copying it, word for word. At least there was credit where it was due. From what you remembered, Prince Aribert wasn’t much of a wordsmith as a nine year old.

“What a romantic His Highness is!” Mey-Rin sighed, answering most of Lord Phantomhive’s unsaid questions. As you tipped your fingers into the pocket between the card’s cover and the card’s inner lining, you were met with a small satin pouch. Inside of it was predictably, an expensive pair of dangly earrings. Each earring had a large emerald, carved into a teardrop shape and set in gold. The gem matched your family ring, an attempt to show how much the prince paid attention to Marie.

“Yes. The gesture was rather thoughtful,” you aquised, mostly to encourage Mey-Rin to stop hovering as you returned the earrings to their pouch, since you were already wearing simple pearls in your ears. Their simplicity matched the deep magenta of your gown, complimenting the silver decorations that covered the sides of the outermost petticoat and long sleeves. The pink was appropriate, given the day. Even the Earl’s color palette was altered somewhat; his preference for cold color palettes was replaced with a burgundy vest layered over a white button down shirt. You had never seen him wear any shade of brown until that day, and yet, his tan suit jacket matched the ensemble rather well.

The Earl took his seat at the dining table without your word of acceptance- you had done away with the extra formality at the beginning of the week, finding it pointless. You set each of Aribert’s gifts to the side- the dried flower, the earrings and the copied sonnet- for the favor of opening the letter from Her Majesty.

“Good morning,” Lord Phantomhive sorted through his own mail, which was also placed on his plate. However, he didn’t open any of the letters and instead, started writing on a blank piece of stationery.

You tensed upon reading your name at the top of the paper, rather than Marie’s.

‘Y/n. Was I not clear in expressing that timing is of the essence? Your arrival date was January 17th and today is Valentine’s Day- February 14th. I hope you have a-’

You folded the paper and carelessly shoved it back into the envelope where it came from. The familiar handwriting was enough for you to comprehend that it was from Doña, rather than Queen Victoria. Disguising it as a message from Her Majesty was a keen idea, considering it wouldn’t be suspicious for you to want to read a message from your grandmother in private.

“Good morning,” you ignored the Earl’s stare that followed the abruptness of you folding the letter and violently shoving it into the envelope, causing it to wrinkle Instead, you plucked a warm bread roll out of the basket in front of you. The plum marmalade to your side would pair nicely with cinnamon and the hot chocolate that clouded the thin glass to your right. Sebastian had the table set with breakfast before you entered, which was quite seldom, considering the enjoyment he got out of introducing everything he created.

The butter knife in your hand felt heavier as you cut the roll in half, what with Doña’s reminder. She was an impatient woman and you had guaranteed that Lord Phantomhive would be dead within a week after you arrived. Now, you were three days short of a month at the estate and as much as you hated yourself for it, you felt nothing but refreshed- both physically and mentally. You were supposed to be stronger than this.

While you spread the plum marmalade over each half of the roll, it was entertaining to watch Lord Phantomhive write and rewrite over and over again. He was invested in what he was attempting to articulate to the point that he was ignoring his breakfast, which was also seldom for him to do. His cheeks were growing red as he folded his third paper and tossed it to the slide with the other discarded ones.

“Just what are you so amused by?” Lord Phantomhive gritted at you, his words strained as he stared at the blank paper that sat under its predecessor.

“What are you attempting to write?” You set the butter knife down, fighting considerably against an amused smile. The Earl never struggled this much with business letters or correspondences with the Yard- and it was Valentine’s Day.

“...It’s nothing-,” he mumbled, the lie as clear as day.

“-A valentine for Lady Midford,” you interrupted, causing him to frown at you.

“...Fine, yes, that’s what it is. Sebastian is preparing the rest of her gifts and yet, he refused to complete this part for me,” he admitted ruefully as if the words pained him to say. It made you think about Prince Aribert’s valentine to your dead sister and how he simply copied the words of Shakespeare and it was enough to convince Mey-Rin that he was a good man. At least Sebastian was encouraging his master to put some effort in.

“The rest of her gifts?” You raised an eyebrow, awaiting his response as you took a decent bite out of the half of bread. Before taking another taste, you gave the cinnamon shaker a few good jolts to allow its contents to dust over the plum marmalade.

“Her favorite chocolates from Switzerland and a necklace. Sebastian picked it.”

“There’s a compilation of Shakespeare’s sonnets in your library,” you informed the Earl, allowing him to gauge the sentiment’s relevance on his own- which didn’t take long.

“...Right. Would you excuse me for a moment?” Lord Phantomhive asked, standing from his seat before you could approve. Although he wasn’t any taller than the average male (you tended to forget that he was only seventeen), he still had a few inches on you, even without the heeled boots he tended to wear.

“Yes, go,” you couldn’t help but chuckle at his ineptness. Lord Phantomhive knew less about romance than you did and that was quite a difficult feat.

When the Earl returned, you finished most of the bread roll and half of your hot chocolate. His was practically cold chocolate at this point and you intended to mention that, before he spoke first, reading out of the open book you directed him to.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer’s lease hath all too short a date,” he read slowly, taking his seat at the table once again, leaving the book open as he put it down. “That’s a part of sonnet number eighteen.”

You picked up the book and skimmed the whole of the sonnet for yourself.

‘But thy eternal summer shall not fade, nor lose possession of that fair ow’st.’

“It suits her,” you commented, considering the simile that Shakespeare was making from summer to the subject of the sonnet. “But...I think she’d appreciate it more if you went and saw her today,” you thought quickly, this suggestion coming from a residual need to enter and go through Lord Phantomhive’s study. The smooth cover- pretending to care about his relationship with his cousin- was a tactful one. The conman would be proud of you for suggesting it, since it seemed like it would benefit the Earl more than you. He’d focus on his own benefit, being inherently greedy.

“Go see her?” Lord Phantomhive repeated as you gave the book back to him to have him begin writing the sonnet down on a fresh piece of paper. From your perspective, you could see ‘Sonnet Eighteen- Shakespeare’ written in large, swooping letters on top of the rest of the stanza that he was in the midst of rewriting.

“Yes. Go with your gifts and surprise her,” you explained. “Must I spell it out?”

The Earl looked as if he wanted to protest, or pretend like he had the grounds to protest the proper way to a lady’s heart by ignoring the suggestion of one. He thought better of it after a moment and the back of his pen hit the paper, as his grip on it diminished. Wasn’t the point of this to garner her affections, or at least express his own?

“I suppose you do have a point, Your Highness.” Lord Phantomhive admitted, quite begrudgingly, his fair complexion moderately pink.

. . .

As you predicted, Sebastian accompanied his master to Lady Midford’s estate within the heart of the city, leaving you in the care of Mey-Rin, Baldroy and Finny for the rest of the day. Since the servants were busy with tasks from Sebastian (you presumed, since they were all around the perimeter of the property), you entered the Earl’s study and shut the door behind you.

The walls were lined with books and similar to Doña’s office, there was a large bay window behind the desk chair. However, the surface of his desk itself was mostly clear, save for a pile of papers and small bowls of pen ink.

The paper on top of the disheveled pile was a letter, signed by Cooper Finley, a name that you recognized from your moderate ties with the crime world. He was no one worth your time, a business owner that employed grave robbers to steal riches (and bodies) out of graves. Fresh bodies sold at high prices to doctors and medical students who wanted to learn more about the human body and run labs. The Undertaker made plenty of money off of Finley too, taking bribes to turn the other cheek when aided in funerals that buried empty coffins.

The letter that you picked up was wrinkled on either side of the page from being held too hard. The paper was only a pull away before tearing in half, even though the date said that it was only two days old.

‘Lord Phantomhive. I must request another meeting regarding the cost I allow my services to be used at. What with coal for fuel, repair, staffing and other major impediments (pirate infested waters, if I may be so blunt), cause me to request a higher recompense for carrying the Funtom Company’s products across the North Atlantic. Might I remind you of the high profits you make off of the hopeful children of America? I’ll be in London at the end of the week.’

Finley was just another greedy business owner, the same as Keating and Wright. Lord Phantomhive’s affiliation with him should have put him under the same category, although you found yourself disdainfully reluctant to convince yourself of that. Perhaps, there were no other options. The idea of Finley owning every single steamship meant for cargo wasn’t wholly absurd- the entire world of business was composed of monopolists.

With a sigh, you put the letter down and proceeded to look at the papers that were underneath it. These were records of pay, written out with a typewriter and dating back to the April of 1891. The payment started low at one-thousand and eight hundred pounds for fifty boxes of cargo- three pounds per box and an extra charge for the six week voyage, with money to go towards coal. According to this record, it started to increase by one hundred pounds a month shortly after, and grew to an extra five hundred by December of 1891.

The most recent payment was for January, 1892 for two-thousand and three hundred pounds; which led you to understand why the Earl came out of his business meetings in such a foul mood; Cooper Finley was outwardly conning him and there wasn’t anything he could do about it, if he wanted to keep Funtom products on the shelves of America.

You put all of the papers back in their pile and promptly found that each drawer in the desk was locked- and with no key in sight, which ended your little search prematurely.

. . .

Doña wasn’t a woman that scared you. She caked on too much red lipstick and only wore beige- her stature was lithe and thin. You could easily kill her if you wanted to and at least a few times, you have wanted to.

But, when she insisted on having a meeting at a residence in London to talk about how the Earl- Ciel Phantomhive- was still alive when he should have been murdered weeks ago, you were to go. She was your employer, after all. The woman who paid for every dress and jewel you wore to properly play the part of a princess, on top of promising you a hefty sum, by the end of it. On the assumption you could manage to end it.

The moment Mey-Rin shut the door of your room for the night, you sprung out of bed and began to change out of your nightgown, and into one of the riding habits that were packed with you. This number was a stormy grey for the most part, which made your black riding boots the accessory shade. Riding habit was the easiest to put on without the assistance that you were growing so accustomed to.

You had read a letter that you received at breakfast merely moments after the plates of your dinner were whisked away from your room. You requested to eat at your personal desk, since the Earl, as well as Sebastian, were staying at the Midford’s estate for the night. It was a letter of summons from Doña for you to meet her in the city at an address that you didn’t recognize and with Sebastian and Lord Phantomhive away for the night, your best option was to bite the bullet and get it over with.

The night was cold enough to make your gloves useless, which caused your hands to tremble as you held onto the reins of the horse you were already acquainted with, Autumn. With each gallop she made, down the stone pathway that led to the main door of the estate (you had opted for exiting through your quarter’s window), your body tensed. Your nose was red from the biting wind and simply by the heavy air, you suspected that it was going to snow that night. The snow added yet another sense of urgency to this outing.

You were smart to have paid attention to the route that Sebastian drove to the Globe Theater, which was in the heart of the city. The conman liked to say that preemptive moves often separated success and failure.

“Good girl,” you praised Autumn as she skillfully ignored distractions that increased marginally as the forest lightened around you, transforming into the cobblestone streets and cement walkways of London. She handled the surprise of it better than you did, considering this was your first time in London- alone- in a month. You never knew that you could miss the smell of smoke, or the tall streetlights that kept the streets well lit, not that there were many carriages out at this hour. Even the Globe Theater was completely dark and as for the shops, there wasn’t a soul to be found, which was fine. You didn’t need any distractions as you followed the signage to the proper street and the numbers to a small, brick residence that resembled the Calverts’ home in Birmingham. There was a single lamp over the threshold, unlike the other homes that were shoulder to shoulder to it.

Hesitantly, you slid off Autumn’s back and held onto the reins to keep her close while you put the brass knocker on the door to good use. Someone had better answer before you kicked down the barrier by yourself. You were generally impatient, and the longer you had to wait in the cold, the crankier you grew, which unfortunately, reminded you of a certain nobleman’s temperament.

. . .

Tags:

#ciel phantomhive #ciel x reader #black butler #black butler fanfic #strangers to lovers #anime fanfiction #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive x reader #murder #angst #historical fiction #historical romance #victorian era #the indignant pawn #the extent of language

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ninja-muse · 4 years ago

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Hyperion - Dan Simmons

In brief: A group of reluctant pilgrims travel across the mysterious world of Hyperion for the last Shrike pilgrimage before a galactic war, and tell their stories along the way. First in a series.

Thoughts: I have complicated feelings about this book. On the one hand, Simmons’ world-building is top-notch, the way he relays it and has structured the book is very cool, the stories-within-the-story are frequently engaging, and some very good points about things like post-humanity and hubris are made. I can see why it won a Hugo, for sure. On the other hand, a lot of my reading sessions felt like I was pushing through rather than being entertained, and the book is starting to show its age.

I really don’t know how Simmons came up with this world. The scope of it, and the sheer weirdness of it, is hugely impressive. I’m used to science fiction having one or two major points of departure—either there is a space war or there’s a mystery planet with a strange religious cult or there’s commentary on the time-dilation of space travel or there are AI—but seeing all of them together was very cool and really made the settings and cultures feel far-future and, somehow, more believable. Of course a galactic civilization wouldn’t look like much like ours, even if people are still people.

(And yes, the sense-of-wonder Simmons is able to invoke, the quest frame story, and the kitchen sink world-building align to make this less hard SF despite the really chewy ideas and commentary, and more science fantasy, where you’ve just got to accept that some things just are and won’t ever get explained, but I’m fine with that.)

I also liked that the POV characters were so different from each other, not only in their walks of life but also in their stories and the way they told them. They played off each other well in the frame story and, because they’re such different people, they provide totally unique views of Hyperion and the civilization it exists on the fringes of. Which I know is part of what Simmons was going for when he wrote this. I did enjoy trying to puzzle out how the stories fit together and what was going on with Hyperion and the world and Simmons’ overall points as I worked my way through the book.

Simmons does a very good job of dripping world-building into the story so the reader isn’t overwhelmed—the story’s about the world, so that makes sense—but at the same time, there’s so much world-building and so much sense-of-wonder to it that I often felt a little overwhelmed, like that dopamine receptors that light up at Cool Stuff™ had kind of hit their limit. There were some days where I just wanted plot and story, and not to have android slavery or far-future publishing houses dropped on me. Which might be a me-problem, since dense reading during a pandemic might not have been the best idea, but fair warning: there’s a lot going on in this book and it’s not something you should expect to plough through.

My only other criticism, really, is that while Simmons might have been progressive at the time re: female agency and critiquing colonialism, the book still suffers from classic SF problems like giving every woman a romantic partner and treating brown people as set dressing. I don’t remember anything outright offensive apart from the pidgin English spoken by natives of Hyperion, but the depictions of women, indigenous and disabled peoples, and Jews certainly left me sighing and thankful that sort of representation isn’t all that’s out there anymore.

This also not a self-contained story. Simmons leaves a lot of unanswered questions and hanging threads, which I assume get tied up and explained in the rest of the series, and part of me still kind of wants those answers months later. (The themes in the book stuck with me for a week afterwards, at least.) But I didn’t enjoy the book enough to keep going and I haven’t read through Wikipedia either. Can’t quite bring myself to get around to it.

So … I’m conflicted, clearly. This is a good book that’s doing really neat things within its genre, and it’s definitely a worthwhile read if you’re interested in classic SF, grand space opera, or science fantasy. It deserve the attention it’s gotten. I’m glad to have read it, but it also left me kind of lukewarm and disinterested and it’s also not something I can see myself recommending.

To bear in mind: See previous comments about datedness of representation. Also I should probably warn for substance abuses, sexual harassment, gore, and body horror.

7/10

#booklr #adult booklr #book reviews #read in 2020 #science fiction #classic sf #sf #sff #hyperion #dan simmons

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blissedoutphil · 4 years ago

Text

Dan the Personal Assistant Epilogue

1038 words

on ao3

~Part 13~

“Wake up, boy.”

Dan groaned, sprawling his body to Phil’s side of the bed.

“Do you want a spanking?” Phil chided, buttoning up his own shirt.

Dan made a sound that was like a whine, but it was muffled into the pillow.

“What was that?” Phil lightly smacked his butt through the blanket.

“No Sir,” Dan grumbled, finally sitting up.

“Hey, at least you don’t actually have to go anywhere,” Phil kissed his forehead, “I wish I could stay home and work here with you.”

“I wish you could stay here with me too,” Dan pouted, looking downright precious as he rubbed his eyes.

Dan dragged himself out of bed to walk Phil to the door. They kissed goodbye and Phil left for work. He opened the blinds and let the morning light warm the home - their home. He was still amused by the spiderman on the cord, and didn’t think he’d ever lose the humour for it.

After their New York trip, Phil had asked him to move in with him. It was harder than he’d thought to part with his simple and empty tiny apartment. He’d still had the mindset that he didn’t deserve what he’d consider high-class living in Phil’s penthouse. He’d never get used to it, he’s a simple guy, he’d thought. But he’d be mad to want to stay in an empty bed alone at night when he could be wrapped in Phil’s warmth instead. About a year later, and he’s settled in great. Phil always told him that he used to keep decorating this place yet it never felt complete, until Dan moved in. Now, Dan added on to their growing knick-knack collection, making this - their - place as whole as it could be.

He got dressed and had a quick breakfast before going to the office room. He’d been so afraid of what the future held once he was ‘laid off’ as Phil’s assistant. But Phil made sure he had nothing to worry about. Phil guided him to find his interests. He’d thought he’d never have passion in anything. He’d viewed himself as a failure ever since he dropped out of university anyway.

Phil was so kind that he broke down and told Phil that Phil didn’t deserve to have a boyfriend this dependent on him. But Phil wanted to take care of him, and Dan had no choice but to learn to embrace being taken care of.

Dan didn’t have the qualifications to work in the field he liked, so Phil signed him up for a part-time degree. It was easier for Dan to handle after a bad university experience. He liked that half of the course was online and the pace was slower so that he had time to do other things.

Things like getting a job.

Phil had insisted he could help Dan with the tuition fees.

“You’re my boyfriend, not my ATM,” Dan had retorted.

He had quite a sum from his stint as Phil’s assistant to pay off the fees, but he still wanted to be useful and help with his share of the house bills. So he worked whenever Phil was at work too and he didn’t have classes; it was better than staying home alone anyway.

His online class lasted for 3 hours, and though he loved his new course compared to his previous attempt at a degree, school was still school and he wanted nothing but a nap sometimes.

But he stayed at his desk and worked on his assignment instead. He’d asked Phil to help him - make sure he woke up for his lessons, didn’t procrastinate his assignments, studied for his tests. He did not want to fail his second attempt at school. Phil took the role very seriously. Sometimes Dan found it cute how Phil, an accounting graduate, tried to help him with psychology notes. Other times, it was less cute when Phil threatened to spank him or lock his dick for weeks if he didn’t study. But Dan had asked him for such help, and he was glad that he had Phil for some kind of kinky discipline.

Sometimes, he’d procrastinate on purpose just to get that spanking, but he would never tell Phil.

This time though, he made sure he finished his assignment before he had to leave for work.

-------------------

“Nice to see you’re finally early for once,” Frank said, rather surprised as he took his seat across the table from Phil in the coffee shop.

Phil was already buried in his laptop, preparing the documents he wanted to share with Frank. He huffed at Frank’s comment, but didn’t rebut it. His cup was already half empty, indicating to Frank that he’d left the office and was sitting here for a while before lunchtime already. Surprisingly, it wasn’t caramel macchiato like what Frank would’ve expected Phil to drink.

Frank glanced at the counter, and nothing was surprising anymore.

“Ahh, you got the seasonal special drink from the special barista, did you,” Frank smirked.

Phil rolled his eyes, but he smiled anyway. “He can make you one too.”

Before Frank even ordered, his special coffee came his way.

“On the house,” Dan smiled at Frank, the same way he’s given Frank’s drink every time they came here for lunch or work while his shift was on.

Frank had insisted to pay lots of times, but to Dan, no amount of free coffee could ever repay how Frank had helped him and Phil back in New York.

“It’s the least I can do,” Dan would always answer as he refused payment.

“I was only being a snoopy busybody,” Frank had moped the first time, as he put his card back into his wallet. These days, he’d cheekily offer to pay just to see Dan get annoyed about how it’s the hundredth time I’m telling you, Frank, you don’t have to!

“Thanks, love,” Phil replied before Frank could this time, “see you at home later tonight.”

Dan all but beamed at him. Who would’ve known he’d end up here, happier than he could ever remember with everything he’d ever need and a love he’d never dreamed of getting, all because he accidentally sent a wrong - not to mention incredibly embarrassing - job application video?

----------------------------

The end :,)

When I wrote the summary as “But what happens when he accidentally sends a wrong video?” I never thought it’d end up this way either lmao.

This fic was born solely because of a prompt sent in which made me want to write office smut and nothing more. But somewhere along the way, between irl dan & phil coming out, me graduating uni and starting a proper job and losing free time to write, and the occasional discussion on the morality of writing phansmut in a post-coming out universe, I just kinda lost the motivation to write this.

But I hate abandoning fics, I know the feeling as a reader of one too many abandoned WIPs. I tried continuing but I started hating this fic, I never (still don’t tbh) understood how this ended up one of my popular ones. I can’t read back on this work because I can pinpoint the exact moment I lost inspiration/motivation and had no idea where the hell I was going with the fic lol, and wished I wrote those parts differently.

Then it took a whole pandemic for me to finally have free time off work so I decided to give this story another try. This resulted in the story having such a prominent shift from the beginning parts (to me anyway, a lot of you have reassured me that the story still flows well, thank you for that because I can’t bear to re-read and see things from my perspective lol). And I started having a bit more fun with it again, learning to write a bit more plotty things instead of pure smut.

I hope I did this fic some justice. It may not have been what I had in mind when I started it, but I can say I’m quite glad with how it turned out in the end :) For what’s originally meant to be only a smut work, it sure got me reflecting a lot lmao. I guess it’s because so much has changed in the past 2 years - like, imagine telling Me who was writing Chapter 1 that Dan would come out in a few months and confuse my whole conscience on writing phansmut lmao???

And thank you so much for still reading despite the long breaks and everything in between. All your interactions with the fic, every like, reblog and ask, were the main thing motivating me to even continue! It really does make me happy to see that there are so many of you who enjoy this (totally not worthy imo lol).

I don’t know what 2021 has in store in terms of fic writing, but I hope you stick around if I ever do come up with new works :) And if you have an idea you’d like to share with me, please do!! This fic wouldn’t have been born if not for a prompt after all :)

Thank you and I hope the remainder of 2020 will treat you kinder than the rest of the year had been <3 (wow this is a long end note lmao)

#dan the personal assistant #phan #Phanfic #phansmut #My fic

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the-awful-falafel · 5 years ago

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Rick and Morty - S4E6 "Never Ricking Morty" Podcast Summary/Breakdown

So y'all probably expected this based on how often I've been talking about these official companion podcasts. I recommend listening to them yourself either on the official Adult Swim YT channel or the official website, but I thought I'd go ahead and make bullet point breakdown of some key points for this particular podcast, because trivia and behind-the-scenes knowledge really appeal to me. And this episode is pretty divisive in the fanbase, so I think this podcast will assuage some fears even if you still personally dislike it in the end.

For some reason, the title of the podcast calls this S4E7 instead of episode 6. It wasn’t commented upon, so I assume either it was a typo or it was 7 in the production order and got swapped shortly before release.

The interviewed staff involved in this episode were Carlos Ortega (character design lead), Erica Hayes (director), James McDermott (art director), and Jeff Loveness (writer)

The idea of this episode was conceived in October/November 2018 as a "one-up" of anthologies and clip shows. They didn't want to do a straight anthology because many other TV shows had already done that, so they tried to go more experimental and bold and basically went balls-deep with the metanarrative as a result

It was a substitute for Interdimensional Cable (which they were going to do instead but it fell through for unknown reasons)

"We had to go so far up our own ass, because if we didn't go far enough, people would be mad that we didn't."

The writers intentionally mocked themselves as much as the fans, pretty much, and it was meant to be all in good fun

The artists really enjoy designing all the weird aliens in the show, as well as getting to reuse/repurpose them when applicable. Apparently next episode (Promortyus) is going to be reusing a lot of designs for something (but they obviously can't say due to spoilers)

Compared to other episodes, "Never Ricking Morty" went pretty smoothly once it got to the art stage. That doesn't mean it was easy, but there weren't a ton of revisions they had to do

There was a joking spoiler about Rick becoming pregnant later this season. At least I think it's joking.

While writing this episode, the writers came up with a huge whiteboard list of complaints about the show, misconceptions about the show, etc. to consult for the meta jokes. Loveness later clarified that it wasn't quite about attacking "complaining" though, and it wasn't meant to be mean-spirited

The Bechdel test skit came from them realizing they hadn't done much with Beth and Summer this season, which definitely can be considered a flaw. Therefore, as part of their self-mockery, the writers decided to force them crudely into the episode as a joke, while also making fun of men who write women characters poorly and reductively.

The Jesus Christ / Rick suddenly being Christian part was written in response to the writers asking themselves "what would kill Rick and Morty as a show?"

Jeff Loveness said this in the "Inside Never Ricking Morty" video as well, but he really loved the "old man is really ripped and ready to kick your ass" trope and is partially responsible for it becoming a running gag this episode along with "cum gutters". Apparently cum gutters return in season 5 (also said jokingly, so who knows)

One of the Q&A callers called multiple times, with different phone numbers, and kept asking about potential crossovers for some reason

"A lot of people are saying that the show is fucking with their fans. Is that accurate?" "I think some of those fans deserve to be fucked with a little bit."

They point out how some fans feel entitled to the idea they should be pleased by the show all the time, and the writers feel like the show should ideally surprise the viewers in a good way, but you still may not like every episode and that's alright

At the same time, the episode wasn't meant as an attack on the fans, it was more of a "we'll do this our way, be experimental, and push the envelope of what we can do" message they were sending. Jeff Loveness promises that there's "good stuff coming up" that he thinks the fans will be happy with, presumably in late Season 4 or even Season 5

"Just because we showed it this way and you'll probably never see it this way again, that doesn't mean we're dropping these storylines completely." There you go, everyone! The ongoing story threads are still happening at some point, and the message of the episode wasn't about dropping continuity or mocking people for caring about it. Although if you were hoping for resolutions similar to what was shown in this episode (Evil Morty w/ a giant army, Tammy VS Summer with lightsabers), those scenarios are almost certainly not going to happen canonically based on this statement. Let's hope that what they do come up with is both unexpected and awesome.

The episode is intended to be non-canonical, similar to past once-a-season clip show episodes like Interdimensional Cable

Story Lord was inspired by characters like Mysterio and Q, and the writers created him late in development as a type of villain they hadn't done before. Dan Harmon also put a lot of self-mockery into the character with how much he loved narrative structure and the story circle. The character artists even initially asked if Harmon could be the design for the character but that received an immediate "no", as it was perceived as being too on-the-nose.

Jeff Loveness was surprised the Rick/Birdperson musical made it to the final episode since it seemed like the sort of thing that would be cut or lost in development. He was also surprised the Jesus thing stayed in mostly untouched

The Story Train was intended to be an actually purchasable product by the time the episode aired-- the writers were emphatically excited about that being the culmination of the joke in the writers room-- and they were surprised that it didn't go through by the time the episode aired. They guess it's due to the coronavirus pandemic interrupting merchandising plans, but they're ultimately unsure because the decision isn't discussed with them

The artists do receive some limitations on how much gore they're allowed to depict, but they can show as much blood as they want, so for the most part they can still be creative with gruesome violence (like the Tickets Please guy ripping in half in this episode)

The artists are credited for elevating most of the fight scenes in the show, sometimes with only vague script direction which they use to be very creative

In response to a viewer calling in and asking the question about whether Pickle Rick will return: "I think there's a conversation to be had about: do we want these things to return or it better to do a one-off story?" So my take on this is that not literally everything will factor into the continuity-- they put thought into what ideas have more long-running potential and they build those up. Which is kind of obvious but the question was silly anyway. (They're still ambiguous about whether or not Pickle Rick will come back, by the way)

They aren't going to do an outright Star Wars parody in Rick and Morty because other shows have already done that, but they can still parody what Star Wars represents rather than doing a "branded commercial" for it. Apparently there is a lot of that specifically coming up this season (although indirect in the way they're describing). I assume this is referring to the upcoming "Star Mort Rickturn of the Jerri" episode, so I’m curious about how they’ll reference Star Wars in that one.

The COVID-19 reference this episode was thrown in last minute, presumably with just alternative dubbing and changing the lip sync animation. They say that sometimes episodes are still being worked on up until the moment they release on television. Referring to a previous episode as an example, the character of Shadowjacker from the dragon episode was thrown in last-minute

With the exception of James McDermott, most of the staff interviewed had no control or participation over the commercial product placement work, such as the Wendy's/Pringles commercials. They don't mind them for the most part and find them funny

The writers try to avoid being too topical because the scripts take so long to turn into animation that any references will become outdated by the time it releases. Therefore, they try to be "timely" in the sense that they're writing about things that are happening in the world, but in a more abstract/thematic sense. Jeff Loveness implies that the next episode Promortyus will have a lot of that

In response to another viewer Q&A: There is no Rick and Morty movie currently planned. They wouldn't mind one, but nothing is really in development at the moment

The staff say they're excited for the next batch of episodes and seem pretty proud of their work on this season

They don't plan on making a Rick and Morty musical episode at the moment, as they feel like other shows like South Park and the Simpson have done it excellently and don't feel like they're capable of doing it better. The Rick/Birdperson bit in this episode was the most we're going to get

The code inside the broken-off throttle lever was intended to just be a bar code decal (to show it's a toy) and doesn't actually mean anything. James McDermott jokingly said it's "where the bodies are buried"

The Rick army / Evil Morty scene was huge from an animation standpoint and they almost couldn't do it due to how ambitious the shot was. They were going for a "Lords of the Rings", faux series-finale vibe, where they "give the fans what they THINK they want". Justin Roiland insisted they do it

There are definitely more big animation setpieces planned for the future

And that’s it! I’ll probably do more of these for the future episode podcasts, if anyone is still interested.

#rick and morty #never ricking morty #companion podcast #q & a

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slothgiirl · 5 years ago

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the one where noah marshall saves mc

i. you will be cold

You had been cold for so long. Cold and insubstantial. Simply speaking a single word was taxing enough.

The act of stringing thoughts together, of keeping yourself together, remembering yourself and your friends and what you were-

you hadn't always been like this. Once upon a time you’d been more than a dark stain in the woods. Eerie eyes. Cold, s cold and always alone.

Noah.

Sometimes you thought you were supposed to be mad about something he’d done, something awful, but you can’t remember. Noah, your sole companion through this existence. Making it all bearable.

A warmth spreads through your chest, alongside an ache, the familiar sight of him bittersweet when you remember you don’t have a chest, or a heart and you can never hug him back no matter how hard you try because you can’t always remember why but you know he could use a hug and this boy.

Oh. That’s right, you’re dead. You died.

There’s a choking pain in your chest and you don’t know why, you look up into Noah’s wide brown eyes, expecting answers, he’s always full of those. Full of things like your name and before and the pain gets worse and oh- you forgot how to breathe.

It hadn’t been necessary for so long. You didn’t need to breathe anymore and you take a deep breath, you take your first breath in years. And it hurts. Like you can’t get enough air in. Chest heaving and wheezing.

You try to sit up, you need to hug him and your chest hurt as it burst full of warmth and you don’t know what this is, what this could be, the words lost to you.

But your fingers only twitch at your side and you can’t move much more than that and you’re still so cold. Cold like a burn.

As if reading your mind, Noah helps you up, taking you into the warmth of his chest as he props you up.

God you’d really fucking missed being tangible, being able to feel the cold night air against your skin, the warmth of another human being, being able to hug him back. You try to hug him back, but your limbs only twitch uselessly.

You want to tease him, you want to make a joke about how it took you dying to get him to hug you first, but your tongue is a heavy foreign thing in your mouth. “Cold,” is the only thing you can manage, voice raspy from disuse.

Noah laughs, his chest vibrating below your cheek, tears in his eyes as he looks down at you, still drinking in the sight of you like you cold disappear at any second. The last time he’d held you like this you’d been dying.

No, that isn’t right.

He’d held your dead body, but it was too late. You’d chosen to take Jane’s place.

“I didn’t even think to bring a blanket,” he mutters with a tentative smile.

It’s easy to smile back. The warmth in your chest at the sight of him slowly spreading throughout your body.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere warm then.”

ii. You will wake up screaming.

The vortex consumes you, black and menacing then there’s only Jane or Redfield or whatever that thing that had stalked you all for weeks was. Just you and it and a sharp pain, like ripping a bandaid off, too quick for you to scream and then there’s screaming and screaming and your body lying below, lifeless and growing colder by the second.

You scream and all the creatures of the forest take flight. You scream and the shadows jump. You scream and you’re throat hurts, the strain too great as you jolt up in bed, hair plastered to your damp skin, throat burning from your screaming, tangled up in a pile of blankets.

It’s no longer dark out and you can’t remember the last time you’d been out in daylight was. When it hadn’t hurt and instinctively you flinch back, arms curling up around yourself, trying to take deep breaths.

Noah’s already up beside you, his brow furrowed in worry, unsure what to do. What do you say to someone who’d just come back from the dead. Who’d been a monster for years.

How were you supposed to remember how to be a person.

The sight of tears falling down your cheeks spurs him into action, closing the distance between you both. “It’s okay,” he whispers softly, hugging you carefully, “it’s all going to be okay now.”

This time you hug him back, arms trembling from the nightmare. From the memory. From the effort of a simple hug. An ache in your muscles, in your bones. “I guess I didn’t tell you I hog the blankets,” you offer, trying to swallow back the tide of fear threatening to swallow you whole. Fear was bad. It made you lash out.

You didn’t want to hurt anyone.

Noah shakes his head in disbelief, his hand cupping your cheek gently, “you’re really here?”

“I’m really here,” you echo, as if saying it makes it so.

He smiles and you want to kiss him and oh oh oh

That’s what that feeling is. You’d never said anything. Before, things had been, there had been more important things and you thought there’d be time. And then. . .then you were barely alive.

But maybe now. . .

“I missed you so much Noah,” you utter.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he states, “I never left you.”

You roll your eyes and it feels so good to do it, before replying, “You know what I mean you jerk!”

“I know.”

And it’s enough. For now.

iii. Your entire body will throb.

Noah’s arm never leaves your side, his steady grip keeping you from toppling over as you both make your way along the shops of some town. Westchester was too risky. He was still wanted and there was no way to explain you.

“I feel like a baby giraffe,” you comment, ignoring the soreness in your limbs as you continue to walk.

“Pretty sure a baby giraffe can walk as soon as it’s born,” Noah snipes back, snorting when you smack his chest weakly, in love with being able to touch him, with being able to feel everything around you, more than a ghost. Here. Alive.

“Don’t be a dick,” you respond teasingly, “I died you have to be nice to me.”

He flinches at the reminder but otherwise tries to pretend it’s fine. “Well now you’re just asking too much from me.”

Your stomach rumbles. It makes you stop suddenly. Are you dying? What does it mean? You look over at Noah questioningly. You hadn’t been back a week. Maybe something had gone wrong.

“What are you in the mood for,” Noah asks you.

“What do you mean,” you ask him, tilting your head to the side.

“You’re hungry aren’t you?”

Is that what that meant? You shrug in response, “I guess.”

“You’ll get the hang of being a mere mortal,” Noah jokes, leading you both into the closest restaurant.

You collapse onto the bench, groaning in relief. Your feet hurt and you’d barely made it down two streets. And no matter what you did, your bones ached, a coldness you could never get completely rid of despite the thick jacket over you wore over one of Noah’s hoodies.

You massage your hands as Noah orders for you both. You were still wary of other people, mulling over his words. Could you get used to being human again? Or had your. . .experience altered you permanently.

The noise in the restaurant is loud even on a weekday afternoon. The plates clinking together, people talking to each other, much louder than any corner of the forest. The headache that always lingers in the back of your skull builds up, but you are determined to have a nice lunch.

You’re human. Probably.

“What if I don’t get used to it though,” you ask Noah once the waitress finishes pouring you both coffee. You don’t meet his gaze, opting to dump as much sugar and cream as fits into the cup. You don’t remember how you like your coffee.

And Noah’s idea of helping is mostly letting you figure things out on your own.

“What if I’m . . .what if it’s all still there, underneath the surface. What if I’m still a monster?”

He shakes his head, strands of auburn hair falling into his eyes, “you were never a monster.” His hand covers yours and you could spend all day soaking up the warmth of his hand.

“I was,” you protest, closing your eyes, the throb in your head growing worse, “it was. . .I was always so cold and alone and scared. I didn't want to hurt anyone.”

“And you didn't. Because you were never a monster.” Noah intertwines his fingers with yours, but there's no softness in his features, just the same stubborn boy who'd been ready to rush into the woods without a flashlight to save Dan.

“Just because I didn't hurt anyone doesn't mean I wasn't like Redfield. Like Jane. . “ you trail off. Always unsure what to say about Jane. It had been easy to judge her before but now, having been cursed like she was, little more than an echo of your previous self, you could understand why she'd lashed out.

That poor little girl that you'd loved.

Noah sneers, “Redfield was a monster. He wanted to hurt people and power. You and Jane were both victims. You couldn't help any of it.”

“But what if I was like that for too long? What if I can't go back to being like. . .like before?”

“Then you don't? Who cares. You're here now. Just focus on being whoever you are now. I don't think any of us could be what we were before.”

“Shit Noah,” you smile, “when did you become so darn wise?”

He flushed red, ducking his head.

“Thank you.”

“You don't have to thank me. I should thank you for what you did. For Jane. For me.”

You shake your head, pulling away from him to grip the warm cup of coffee. “I'd do anything for you Noah,” you tell him with an honesty that has your chest tightening.

“Right back at you,” he answers with an easy smile.

You take a sip of your coffee and wince. It's like a shot of pure sugar. And still pretty hot. Scorching your throat.

“You can have mine,” Noah offers, not bothering to hide his snigger at your expense.

iv. Ask for more blankets. You will be very cold.

This weeks motel room is drafty. And the blankets are thin and your still can't get warm. It's no longer so bad that it burns.

And you can walk by yourself. But you’ve given up on getting warm opting for simply being not too cold. But you can't sleep right now because it's freezing.

Except it's just you because Noah crashed as soon as you both checked in. His chest slowly rising and falling as he sleeps peacefully next to you in bed.

It might have been awkward if he hadn't become such a constant in your life. His presence as vital to you as the air you breathe. It was Noah that brought you back. Noah that had kept the faint memories alive as you drifted along the woods.

You sigh, curling up into yourself further before taking the plunge and leaving your nest of blankets for the thermostat. You crank it up as far as it'll go and make your way back to the bed.

Now you just have to wait.

Wait for the ancient motel heater to kick in.

You curl up again and try to sleep. Try not to spend the night staring at the shadows. It's not even that your scared. Just so freaking cold.

Noah shifts, looking over at your through sleep addled eyes, “still cold?”

“Yeah. I turned the heater up but I doubt it works well.” Shitty motels were a fact of life when Noah was technically a suspect in your murder. You two really had to find a way to sort that out.

And then college. You really wanted to go to college and help Noah make his dream of opening Baby Jane's a reality.

Someday.

He nods, already half asleep again.

You smile to yourself. He looks so beautiful asleep. Unbothered and unworried the way he was during the day.

Noah shifts again, rolling over to you. He's more awake now, nervous as he looks over at you.

So you roll your eyes and pull him close, wrapping your arms around him and shamelessly cuddling into his chest.

It's ridiculous that you might have to talk about it. You thought it had been pretty clear. How you felt. How you were pretty sure he felt. That Noah was on the same page as you, but the idiot could be pretty dense.

Before you overthink anything, and caution gets ahold of you, you cup his cheek with one hand, still amazed how something as simple as touch can make all these fuzzy feelings happen, and tilt your head up, meeting his lips with yours.

It's a quick clumsy kiss. You still half a stranger in your own body. Still readjusting. Noah surprised and sleepy.

But that's besides the point. You love him. This foolish caring boy that had found a way to save you after all these years. The same boy that had helped you save Dan. That had let you and Jane talk him into going along with your bad ideas. That had been there for you even as a monster.

“I love you,” you whisper, ready to scream it from a building if you have to. To acknowledge something you think you've known for a while now, brazenly meeting his gaze without a lick of bashfulness.

“I love you too,” Noah whispers into the dead of night and kisses you again, softly and sleepily and your heart flutters in your chest and the cold isn't so bad.

You can deal with anything as long as you have Noah by your side.

iv. your loved ones will be ecstatic to have you back, consider this a blessing.

The drive to Westchester is punctuated by Noah sulking. You teasing Noah for sulking. You leaning over to kiss Noah just because you can and almost causing a car crash.

And staring out the window to catch glimpses of your reflection. Alive for the first time in years. The same face you'd looked at for eighteen years now alien to you. You touch the side of your face to make sure it’s really there. Just because you can, to feel your own flesh is a privilege.

That and fighting over the radio station because, “you might be driving but did you die?”

“Okay that's not fair. If you always use that excuse then you'll always win!”

“That's one thousand percent the point!”

“Okay but who brought you back?!”

It had been you who'd brought the others up. You remember Noah saying they'd. . .everything had been a mess after you'd died. They'd blamed him which was unfair because they hadn't been there at the end. Hadn't seen the depth of his desperation to save Jane, to save everyone.

You'd forgiven him a long time ago. He'd just been a hurt scared kid. The way you'd all been. But unlike the rest of you, he had a mother who'd fed the guilt you all felt for Jane's death.

“Where exactly are we meeting them?”

“Well I only spoke to Lily,” Noah says with a shrug, “I figure the rest of them will come because I doubt Lily wouldn't have told them.”

“Or it could be a trap,” you add, pointing your fingers like guns, “a set up like bonnie and clyde.”

“No I think Ava would want to punch me personally,” Noah observes, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

You elbow him in the side, “Noah!”

“What,” he laughs. “You know she would.”

“Of course it's Ava. But we'll explain things,” you tell him, convinces things would turn out okay. I mean they sort of had even if it had taken time for things to work out.

Then with them on your side hopefully you could find a way to spin your sudden resurrection and drive home Noah's innocence to the appropriate authorities. Or you could run off to Canada. That was always an option.

“And if they don't?”

“Then we run away to Canada. I'm pretty sure college is free there anyway,” you muse.

“Pretty sure it isn't. And I'd never fit in with the Canadians. Forget to say thank you once and that's it they'll throw you to work a maple farm.” His knuckles are white around the steering wheel.

You roll your eyes. “It's going to be okay. We’ll figure this out together.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Say it!”

“It's gonna work out,” Noah manages through clenched teeth.

You laugh at his grimace, “doesn't that make you feel better.”

“Loads. I'm practically made of sunshine,” he deadpans.

You can spot the table full of your friends from outside. Of course Lily told everyone. And Britney.

Noah sucks in a breath besides you.

“I'll go in with you.”

He shakes his head, brushing stay strands of hair out of his eyes, “No. Someone could recognize you. Just stick to the plan okay?”

You squeeze his hand in support, “okay,” you reply even though it kills you not to run straight in and hug all your friends.

“I mean it.”

“Yeah yeah,” you wave off, closing the distance between you and kissing him again like a lovesick puppy. You never got tired of it.

Of his soft lips against yours, tasting of cigarettes he kept sneaking when you weren't looking and the mint lemonade you'd gotten at the last gas stop. The way your heart sped up when he kissed you back, skin growing feverish at his touch.

You watch him go inside, hands clamming up. It had been four years. They'd probably be graduating from college.

Maybe it wasn't fair to them to reopen old wounds. But you missed them and you wanted them to know you were all right. That you weren't some monster stalking about the woods.

And they deserved to know.

Unsurprisingly, Ava punches Noah on sight, her hair in braids now, an assortment of black and red, never one for hesitating to do the right thing. And for her, things were pretty clear cut.

You watch them all surged up, to hold Ava back, too yell at Noah, you can't say for sure and your running in. You can't just sit out here and watch.

Andy's yelling, “how dare you,” loud enough for the whole place to hear. Luckily it's Monday, and too early for there to be many people around.

Lucas is holding Stacy back who's whole face is flushed red, looking like she wants a go at Noah.

Tom is silent, but his expression says all it needs too while Dan stands between Andy and Noah, arms spread up in a calming motion, trying to speak over everyone, “guys this isn't the place.”

Ava snarls, arms crossed as she looks at Noah in anger, “then let's take this outside!”

Lily's eyes flicker from face to face, bottom lip wavering as Britney rubs her back.

Having rushed in without any actual plan, your first words to your friends, your friends who buried you, are a mess. “Um hey guys long time no see,” you wave awkwardly.

Noah sighs, all the exasperation audible in that one exhale. But then, he didn't really believe you'd stay outside for long now did he? It just wasn't you.

Ava's eyes grow wide, her gaze flickering between you and Noah, mouth wide open like a fish at a loss for words.

Andy gasps.

Then Dan’s hugging you hard, and you hug him back without care, still a koala wanting to soak up everyone's warmth. A second later Lily's crying, her arms around you both.

Ava shrugs, trying to discreetly wipe tears away from her eyes, “you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Stacy snorts, before joining in.

“Fuck yeah group hug,” Andy says when he recovers and that's what ya turned into to, you being smushed in the middle of everyone, surrounded by all the people you love and Britney for some reason but if Lily loved her. . .

“I still don't understand how,” Lucas states, straightening his glasses.

Ava's piercing gaze zeroes in on Noah who's cheek has begun to form the beginning of a dark purple bruise, standing awkwardly to the side. “You!”

Purposely being a dick, Noah shrugs with a shit eating grin on his lips, “Me.”

Before Ava can punch him again, you interrupt, “Noah saved me,” your gaze soft as you look gazes with him. Grinning when you see the blush on this cheeks.

Slowly Stacy says, as if you're a spooked animal, “well he also killed you so that's the least he could do.”

“He didn't,” you shake your head frowning, “I chose to sacrifice myself. For Jane.” You swallow a lump in your throat, thinking on what just might be the worst day of your life. “And then he found a way to save me.”

You stare back at them, daring anyone to contradict you, who'd been there. The familiar faces. There's some different haircuts and the beginnings of age lines. But then, four years have gone by for them.

“Can't we just be glad they're alive,” Lily notes.

Lucas clears his throat, “he still betrayed us.”

Noah's shoulders tense, jaw tightening but he keeps the grin plastered on his lips.

“He did the right thing in the end,” you shrug, “and he's done a lot to make up for it. Not that he had to. I mean, I would've tried to save Jane too. It's not his fault that. . .that Jane had become corrupted by the power.”

“I attacked you guys,” Dan notes, “even though I don't remember because of it. Let's just. . .lets just start over.”

“Dan’s right,” you urge them all, stretching you hand out for Noah, knowing he won't refuse you. Not you, never you any more than you could say no to him. “And besides I died so you all have to go along with me.”

He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

Ava snorts, shaking her head, “Oh lord you'll never let this go will you? Though having a zombie friend is pretty fucking metal as far as I can tell.”

You laugh and take a seat, feeling in the mood for pizza right about now.

Everyone else follows suit.

#it lives in the woods #noah marshall #ilitw noah #noah x mc #mine #the one where noah marshall saves mc

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michelles-garden-of-evil · 4 years ago

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Episode 32 Review: Sea Fever

{ Not available on YouTube }

{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

{ Screencaps }

I apologize for the delay in posting this review. Once again, I’ve been busy in real life and didn’t have enough time to work on it last week. (And so soon after starting my Shadow Over Seventh Heaven review series!) But now I’m back and I have enough time to write about my favorite show again--and, in a week or so, hopefully enough to continue my other review series as well.

This is the first episode to differ completely from the Lost Episode summaries published in various U.S. and Canadian newspapers--and therefore probably the point at which the original outline and the final one began to diverge. Episode 30′s summary described an event that happened in the episode, but whose cause appears to have been changed during forced rewrites; last episode’s was still accurate after revisions; but this one’s summary is the first to describe a scene absent from the final, aired episode. (More on that later.)

Shall we begin this review? This episode features some of the darkest Jean Paul (yes, Jean Paul!) dialogue thus far, along with many entertaining facial expressions as multiple characters feast on the scenery. It’s a wild ride with a genuinely scary scene, and, if you like those things, I think you’ll enjoy it.

We open right where last episode left off, with Elizabeth reacting to Jacques’ little comment about Holly and how he would stake her life in a bet that Vangie couldn’t contact Erica in the planned séance. ”Jean Paul,” she shouts, “your inference that I would harm my daughter to take her fortune for my own is insulting and in bad taste: something I’d never expect of you!”

The handsome devil replies, “Your strong defense against a simple query lends credence to a simple supposition”--which is just a fancier, less archaic way of saying “the lady doth protest too much.”

She flounces and runs into Vangie at the door--figuratively, not literally, although that would be amusing. “You interrupted Mrs. Marshall’s romantic exit from which there might be no return,” Jacques comments, which sounds suspiciously like foreshadowing.

The conversation drifts to the séance and how Jacques is most definitely not going to back down because he’s not a coward, and then, suddenly,

Vangie SCREAMS!

Apparently, every time a female character other than Raxl screams, she has to try eating her hand immediately afterwards.

She’s screaming because she can sense that someone is tampering with the cryonics capsule. And, at the same time that this happens, Jacques also de-possesses Jean Paul:

I’ll let these headache faces speak for themselves.

Jean Paul who threatens to kill anyone who tampers with the capsule. Very nice (not)! Normally, I find his concern for Erica romantic, but this is going too far. He reminds me of the captain in the CBS Radio Mystery Theater episode "Sea Fever" (also by Ian Martin) who…well, I don't want to spoil the ending, but let's just say that he is even crazier in love than Jean Paul. It isn’t one of the best CBSRMT dramas, but it will likely chill your bones. It certainly chilled mine.

Love this shot of Colin Fox backacting while Paisley Maxwell and Angela Roland stare at him with wide-open eyes. This episode is full of unintentionally funny facial expressions.

Jean Paul hurries back to Maljardin with Elizabeth and Vangie, and heads to the crypt immediately to see Raxl about the capsule. She recaps to him about the capsule tank’s malfunctioning in the previous episode. He asks who discovered it; she tells him Dan, which only makes him more suspicious of him. SHe also recaps to him about how Alison and Dan are searching for the cyanide that he stole from the lab. “Everyone questions my changes of mood,” he shouts. “Now I must question changes in others!...There is danger hiding everywhere on Maljardin. It has a history that has plagued the family, that will plague all who pry into my affairs!"

While Vangie questions the sincerity of Elizabeth’s devotion to Jean Paul above, Jean Paul leaves red flowers on the cryocapsule and announces his planned next moves to his love: “Erica, my dove, now [there] are some people here on our island who would destroy the process by which you will be returned to me and fill my arms again, but I promise you, no one, no one under any consequences [line flub], will live again if he or she causes you to remain forever dead!"

A beautiful shot of Jean Paul with flowers for Erica.

When Raxl next joins Jean Paul in the crypt, she tells him that “only the priestess of the Serpent knows what is really on their minds.” Jean Paul mentions that she has told him before about the human sacrifices that the priestesses used to perform on the island--which is not recap (as we have only heard her tell Matt about them so far), so she must have told him sometime before Erica’s death. She insists that, although that was true long ago, their altar has not been used for them since Jacques's time.

“But, if his evil can rise again, as you fear,” he begins, implying that he wants to start making blood sacrifices.

“No! Please, M’sieu, no!” Raxl interrupts.

“I will do what has to be done, Raxl. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Raxl draws the Sign of the Great Serpent in the air and the same Great Serpent symbol that's in the Temple appears on screen. It’s a cool effect and not something that’s ever seen in any other episode.

She leaves the crypt, looking back at Jean Paul a few times, probably in complete disbelief that he wants her, daughter of the unseen Priestess of the Serpent, to sacrifice Dan and any other troublesome guests to protect against THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES. This is a shocking new low for Jean Paul Desmond, and shows the darker side of his character. This is a man who, even without a curse and even when he is not possessed, is capable of murder because of his obsession with his love interest. This is a male yandere.

She sees Matt in the Great Hall, who tells her that he’s searched all over Maljardin and that there must be many hidden rooms there. It turns out they have both searched in every room they know about and still have found neither the missing cyanide nor the conjure doll and silver pin. He demands that she tell him the legend of Maljardin and that old black magic. And so we learn from her some very important background information, some of which is never brought up again:

Where there is evil, there is magic. Where there is magic, strange things happen, but first there must be evil, and there is!...Before the time of Jacques Eloi des Mondes, when this house first stood, it was a palace of kings and there were many people here until this island became his!…Only the greedy and foolish [natives] remained, and none who left ever returned.

There is a curse here, Reverend: him, that devil!

The implication is that Jacques did not build the château, but took it from someone else, which connects to his revelation about a month earlier that he was a “free looter”--or, in other words, a pirate. Matt argues that Jacques cannot still hold control over Maljardin because he died three hundred years ago, but Raxl says that “for some of us, three hundred years is but the span of a single lifetime,” indirectly revealing her true age to him.

She smiles at him right after she reveals to him that she’s centuries old. I think this is the first time Raxl smiles on the show, and the only time in the entire Maljardin arc.

Matt asks about the natives who stayed on the island, and Raxl says of them, “They died very soon. It was the curse on Maljardin. Have you ever seen a man who has lost his soul, Reverend? Their eyes down, the fishermen no longer fish, the children cease to play. They do no more than sit and wait [for death]...Since then, no native has ever tried to settle on Maljardin.” Only Vangie, the Conjure Woman, can go back and forth to and from the island “on the wings of the Great Serpent,” but she, too, is destined to die someday on Maljardin.

At the end of this scene, Vangie enters and adds that she doesn’t know when she’ll die, because the tarot cards did not (and cannot?) give her an exact date. This would seem to make her death on the show a foregone conclusion, but that may or may not be the case. (I say that not only to avoid spoilers, but also because the show and the original scripts give the Conjure Woman radically different fates, as we shall explore in future reviews.)

Meanwhile, down in the crypt, Jean Paul is still talking to Erica about how he is determined to kill anyone who interferes with the cryonics process when Jacques starts intruding on his mind. Like in Episode 27, the special effects team illustrates this by superimposing Jacques’ face from the portrait over that of Jean Paul when he is talking to him:

The best example from this episode.

None of Jacques’ lines in this scene are as funny as those of the old, pre-Lost Episode era Jacques, even if Fox-C still delivers the devil’s lines with the same amount of sarcasm and relish as before. His best line this time around is, in my not-so-humble opinion, “Suppose we just whisper so dear Erica may sleep.” I miss early Jacques’ jokes already--yes, even the ham-handed, cornball puns--and it hasn’t even been a week’s worth of episodes since the last.

We cut to Raxl and Vangie in the Great Hall, discussing the upcoming séance. Vangie says that she wants to find out if Erica’s spirit genuinely wants Jean Paul to continue mourning her and keeping her frozen. She insists that Raxl let her touch the cryocapsule before the séance, most likely to get a sense of Erica’s energy before they perform the ceremony.

Jean Paul: “What are you doing!”

Raxl: “Please, M’sieu. The Conjure Woman is trying to help.”

Jean Paul: “Only for a séance, Vangie. Erica must remain undisturbed.” Vangie: “And if you don’t like what you learn?” Jean Paul: “I’ll face that--when the time comes!”

The Lost Episode summary indicates that, at some point in the original draft, Raxl and Vangie had a conversation about Jacques, and Raxl would have told her how she can tell him and Jean Paul apart. As I’m sure many of you have realized, Raxl and Vangie oscillate between knowing that Jean Paul is being possessed and merely suspecting, depending on the episode. In the original Episode 32, Raxl would have known when Jacques is controlling Jean Paul’s body and Vangie would have only suspected until after Raxl explained. Ruling out all obvious non-diegetic clues such as the vanishing portrait shots and Jacques’ theme music, she could have said any number of things, including:

His energy/aura changes (although, logically, Vangie would notice that, too).

He wears the ring from the portrait (which we know is diegetic, because Elizabeth commented on it in Episode 13).

He opens his eyes really wide and makes silly faces.

He makes corny puns Never mind, we’re not doing that anymore.

He acts far too cheerful for a man who is supposedly mourning his dead wife.

He talks about kippers.

Etc.

I suppose we’ll never know which one(s) she mentioned, but I suspect #1, #2, and/or #5. Anyway, Jean Paul leaves to return upstairs and Vangie continues whatever she started doing with the capsule. He orders Jacques to “stop turning people against [him],” which he refuses to do, threatening to keep Erica dead if he doesn’t shut up about it.

“When we really get into the battle, someone has to die,” quips Jacques.

“Perhaps it will be you!” shouts Jean Paul in response.

“Or you, Jean Paul Desmond,” the handsome devil replies. “Or will you be preceded by one of our guests? Now let me see. A likely candidate could be...”

Jean Paul turns away from the roars of laughter, and the episode ends before Jacques can name the guest(s) he plans to murder.

Could it be Vangie? Or Holly? Dan? Alison? Even Elizabeth?

This episode was a fun one to watch, and probably the first review I’ve completed in only one day since sometime last winter. Jean Paul’s willingness to put everyone’s life on the proverbial line to save Erica shows a dark side to his nature that mostly vanishes at the end of this story arc--which is a shame, because I find morally ambiguous antihero Jean Paul the most interesting version of his character. I recommend this one, if you have access to it.

Coming up next: A Quito-centric episode where the detained guests learn shocking truths about Jean Paul’s manservant.

{ <- Previous: Episode 31 || Next: Episode 33 -> }

#strange paradise #maljardin arc #ian martin #week 7 #episode 32 #review #genuinely scary episodes #cbs radio mystery theater #creative line interpretation #cryonics capsule #diegesis #hand staple mouth #headache faces #kippers #lost episode summaries #scenery chewing #sign of the great serpent #smiley raxl #yandere

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in-for-a-drama · 5 years ago

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Extraordinary You (2019)

The drama has been released in October of the last year. This review contains loooots of spoilers for both webtoon and drama. I watched it in spring since it’s so full of hope and youth and vibrance, but it is warm enough to save you from autumn melancholy and winter snowstorms.

Extraordinary You is based on Daum webtoon “July found by chance” which was the highlight of 2018-2019 for me. And I still patiently wait for every single chapter.

Actually I hesitated watching this drama ever since I heard of the release. So far I’ve encountered lots of webtoons turned into dramas I wanted to unwatch. I felt the writers would go all astray with the story and characters and I would feel angry because of my favorite scenes and characters.

First of all I have to assure you, I really enjoyed this drama, I binge watched it, like, 16 episodes in 2 days, and for the record, usually even if I like the drama, I still finish it over a week, about 2-3 episodes per day.

Secondly, the creators did completely rewrite the plot, the scenes, the characters. Some of the scenes and concepts still remained but overall the changes were big enough so that I could watch this as a separate work.

Still, there were changes in concepts I personally deem unnecessary.

The plot. The rich schoolgirl with a weak heart since birth and a one-sided crush, Dan-Oh, gradually realizes there’s something wrong with her. It turns out she’s actually a character in a romance shoujo comic book. And she isn’t eve the protagonist, more of an extra character. Such a pitiful fate since the author can get rid of her anytime. She decides to change her own fate. Later she gets to know another extra without a name, her classmate. Dan-Oh realizes that as an extra without much presence in the story he is capable of affecting the story in his own small ways. They become close and Dan-Oh gives him a name - Haru.

Haru and Eun Dan-oh

Have to say, I loved the main couple. They’re so cute!!! I also really love when the protagonist isn’t introduced from the very beginning and isn’t obvious, we can see some clues of Haru in the first episode, but we actually get to see him only in the second. And I love Haru way too much both in the webtoon and in the drama, at the beginning he is so mysterious, a bit dazed and yet so warm. And as his character develops, he shows different traits, determination, despair to save his beloved, jealousy etc. Yes, Haru is definitely my favorite.

Dan-Oh had a different interpretation from the webtoon, but different is not bad. The actress is not too beautiful but she is charismatic and cute. Her smile is absolutely charming. And I love the way she cries - it’s real and her face becomes a bit ugly but I can totally believe her grief. As a sarcastic person I would have liked to say she cries too much, but actually every single time she cried - there was a proper reason, I mean, who wouldn’t cry, I would totally wreck my nervous system with all those meta rollercoasters.

Compared to the webtoon the dynamics in the couple have changed because of the changes in Dan-Oh character. Dan-Oh in the webtoon is more serious and strong-willed. Dan-Oh in the drama is more light-spirited. The drama creators decided to do the classical trope where the heroine is often in the dark.

Have to say I liked and not liked at the same time what the writers have done with the story. I personally am really fond the concept of nameless extra becoming aware and falling in love with Dan-Oh. Without there being some kind of fate and dark story behind it. And then in the drama they show the scar and like how come the nameless extra with no features except for handsomeness gets to have a scar?

There wasn’t such a thing in the webtoon so obviously I started to suspect something like past connection from the very beginning. I still loved the storyline, the way they brought in the previous book, Trumpet Creeper. And I just loved the characters in all-those... um... Joseon? clothes (sorry if I’m wrong about the time).

Another thing I have to point out - the characters’ motives. In the drama Dan-Oh originally became close to Haru because of his ability to change the stage (comics scene). And it’s in the second half of the story when she realizes her feelings for him. They have such good chemistry from the very beginning. And then Dan-Oh goes all “Omg! I love him! That can’t be!” and I find myself facepalming a bit. I mean. In what way she is different from all those classic romance novels heroines? Thank god the writers didn’t drag that for way too long, not enough to get annoyed.

Still. what I really like about the webtoon. It’s not that the webtoon Dan-Oh wanted to rebel by completely changing the story. No. She wanted to find her first love by herself, from the very beginning. And that’s how she found Haru. They’re such a couple from the very beginning. And that’s just a biiiiiig difference.

In the drama Dan-Oh mentions somewhere in the last episodes that Haru is her true first love. But that was not her intention from the very beginning, just the way it turned out. Ad the actors look so cute together, their difference in weight is adorable and I’m also satisfied with the acting.

To sum it up, I thoroughly enjoy the dynamics in the Haru-Dan-Oh relationship both in the webtoon and in the drama. They’re just different. I personally recommend first watching the drama and only then reading the webtoon.

Baek Kyung

I think I mentioned but I really love the cast. The actor playing Kyung did his best. I mean if it were another actor I would have seen Kyung as no one but a total asshole. But I could really see the confusion and internal struggles here. Also the previous book storyline enabled us to feel more for Kyung, how he was written by the author as nothing but a really bad character for two books straight. I could feel his loneliness and despair to find out who he truly is apart from his character. In the webtoon I simply can’t feel anything for this character XD

Also I really loved the way they introduced Kyung’s little brother. Maybe I have missed some of the scenes but I don’t remember him in Trumpet Creeper? But he is definitely a very interesting and mysterious character. I hope he stays by Kyung’s side in the next book and the spend lots of good time together.

Do-hwa and Juda

I can’t believe I enjoyed their storyline so much. Jung Gun-joo, the actor playing Do-hwa was nominated for the best new actor for this role. And no wonder. He was truly extraordinary as Do-hwa struggling within his boundaries of supporting character. His one-sided love and inability to do what he want in the stage was just heartbreaking. Do-hwa is definitely the highlight of the whole drama. And I laughed because of his violin dilemma. And I cried because of his love for Joo-da.How he slowly came to realize that his actions cause hurt to the other characters. Ouch. I really hope in the next books he finds happiness. With Joo-da or with someone else.

And Joo-da. I really hoped she will get her ego. But honestly I couldn’t see their story with Do-hwa ending in any way but heartbreak for Do-hwa. Still. I really enjoyed the way Joo-da turned out to be once she got her ego. Every scene with her was delightful since then. And the way she herself admitted she wanted to date both... I really want to hug Do-hwa.

Namju didn’t leave any impression throughout the story except for the last episode strawberry jumper. And I laughed at the scene Joo-da gave Namju the spending diary (I myself wouldn’t mind one, have been anxious of my spending habits lately).

Miscellaneous

The Squid Fairy and his lover storyline was cute though too short. Glad they didn’t have much drama and got to spend time together in Secret.

The finale of the story left many questions but overall I got the picture. So they’re still together in the new book. But. Where’s Do-hwa??? And it seems Joo-da will still go for Namju... And I can’t tell who the protagonists are. I made myself think that this is some loooong new series by the author based on the students’ calm everyday (except for exams) life and that Haru and Dan-Oh can live happily ever after in this and next books as extraordinary characters.

Some concepts I really missed in the drama which are in the webtoon

1. The sky

The scene in both the drama and the webtoon where Haru gives Dan-oh the starry sky. The webtoon thing is that all the scenes in Secret happen during the daytime. And that’s why Dan-oh would like to see the starry sky. The not disappearing hole in the curtain holds a special meaning for Haru and Dan-oh. In the drama the creators made it so the whole give me the starry sky wish comes from the previous book. And there’re night scenes in the Secret. Though without the stars, yes.

2. The flying furniture

In the webtoon there’s a special place for Dan-Oh and Haru - the flying bench, a mistake made by the artist (and as I draw myself I can feel this deeply, sometimes you just don’t calculate something right and then that box or bench is way too high). In the drama there’re just random things flying everywhere in the shadow. And there’s also that black hole that appears in all the right places, gives scars and shows previous lives... I mean... *long sigh*

3. The artist presence

What I really love about the webtoon. We all know that artists and writers have to stay objective and do what they want to the story without listening to anyone’s opinion. But at the same time they can’t help to see the comments, what makes the readers annoyed or what they would like.

In the webtoon “July found by chance” sometimes we’re given glimpses of the comments to the webtoon “Secrets”. That gives us another perspective, how the artist thinks, how the readers react. And that’s just so exciting! Compared to the webtoon, in the drama The artist seems too distant.

Oh. I’ve really written a lot.

Hope you enjoy/ed the webtoon and drama as much as I did.

And now I’m off to watch “Touch” while I still have some time off *_*

I’ll also have to do the best 2019 dramas list at some point (at least for my own use).

#k drama #korean drama #tv show #korean drama review #extraordinary you #july found by chance #daum #mbc tv #mbc drama #romance drama

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letterboxd · 5 years ago

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Villains in Love.

“That’s how we like to do drugs. Non-judgmentally.” Letterboxd talks ‘couples on the run’, moral relativism and Bill “handsome as the day is long” Skarsgård with Villains writer/directors Dan Berk and Robert Olsen.

In Villains, the new thriller from Dan Berk and Robert Olsen, who wrote and directed together, we join a couple of young lovers on the run: Jules (Maika Monroe) and Mickey (Bill Skarsgård).

Their car breaks down following a gas station robbery, so they take refuge in a nearby suburban home. After making a disturbing discovery in the basement, they quickly realize they picked the wrong house. Their situation becomes drastically more perilous when the owners, the outwardly folksy George (Jeffrey Donovan) and Gloria (Kyra Sedgwick), return home and turn the tables on Mickey and Jules.

From the title on down, the darkly comedic Villains clearly wants to play with cinematic notions of what constitutes “good” and “bad” characters. Berk and Olsen are assisted in this by four actors doing great work, but Donovan (Fargo) must be singled out for such effective use of his delightfully insincere smile.

We sat down with Berk and Olsen following the film’s world premiere earlier this year at the SXSW Film Festival.

‘Villains’ co-directors Dan Berk and Robert Olsen.

Did the concept for this film come to you first or did you start with the characters and go from there? Dan Berk (co-writer/director): I think probably the first thing, if we’re being completely honest, was a little bit more practical. We knew we wanted to make a film in a single or a limited location because our first film Body, which we had at Slamdance in 2015, we shot that entirely in one location and it was a shoestring budget, $50,000. We shot it in eleven overnights. It was really kind of insane, but we came away from that realizing that if you own a location, you can leave your gear up, get in, shoot your day, get out, come back the next morning, turn your lights on and keep shooting.

Robert Olsen (co-writer/director): And that’s a big realm that you can fit a lot of different ideas under. We were wanting to do a kind of “lovers on the run”; a couple of amateur criminals, like in the style of Bonnie and Clyde or Badlands. We had been circling that for a while and then it kind of became like, okay, well, if it is this young couple, this inept Bonnie and Clyde, what do they run into in this single location of ours? And that’s where George and Gloria came from. What if it was this bizarro, older version of themselves? Because you look at those different movies and the couples are treated differently, morally, in different ones. Like in True Romance, you’re very much sympathizing with them throughout, whereas Natural Born Killers, they get to a certain point where you’re like: oh my god, these people have problems, it’s not good. And so we were like, well, what if Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek didn’t stop at the end of Badlands and grew up—what would they be like? And wouldn’t that be funny to see these people run into the evil version of themselves?

DB: Once we had the practical location component and the characters, the thematic framework came next. This idea that was sort of obvious once we laid all the pieces out on the board, of this moral relativism. The idea that if you saw Mickey and Jules on the street, you’d go, like, oh those are the villains right? They just robbed a convenience store. Those people are not good people. And if you saw George and Gloria at the grocery store, you’d go, those are good upstanding citizens, look how nice their hair is. It’s tough really that that’s how we operate. And it’s sort of a “don’t judge a book by its cover” thing. RO: And just like how love plays into it where both couples have a genuine loving relationship. They are truly in love with one another, but it’s like, how much can your love for one another forgive the sins that you commit? And also love as this razor’s edge tightrope that you fall on to one side or the other. Are you going to be on the good side of love which drives you to be empathetic and imagine yourself in somebody else’s shoes? Or are you gonna fall on the bad side of love, which is like, obsession and letting love become a corrupting influence on you. So that was where we wound up and then we just got in there and started writing.

Kyra Sedgwick and Jeffrey Donovan in ‘Villains’.

The film invites comparisons with previous “lovers on the run” movies, especially with Bill’s character being named Mickey (evoking Mickey and Mallory from NBK). Were you hoping that audiences would link these characters to that tradition? DB: We certainly didn’t wanna hide from it. We’re not running from the Bonnie and Clyde ancestor of this, and True Romance and Natural Born Killers and Badlands and all that stuff. We’d be delusional if we thought we invented the idea of young lovers. We wouldn’t go so far as to say the entire thing is an homage.

RO: We wanted there to be enough references that we were showing that we didn’t think we were the first people to ever have this idea, and at the same time you don’t want so many references that your movie’s just this clip show.

We hear a lot about the “contained thriller” as a genre these days. How did you feel your film would set itself apart from all the others? DB: I think it’s about the space that you’re in. Something we wanted to do differently here was get a sense of mood. We wanted the basement to feel different from the living room and feel different from the kitchen and feel different from Gloria’s room, so that the movie does not become visually repetitive.

RO: Had our resources been more limited, we might’ve been forced to do a situation where we were looking at white walls the entire time and I really don’t think the film would’ve worked had that been the case because the production design, the set decoration, buttresses this tone so effectively. I would say that if you removed that buttress, the entire tower would fall down. You can’t make this movie that exists in this slightly elevated lane above reality without the backdrops of your scenes; they need to get the memo too that we’re existing in a weird world. The dining room needs to have that fiery orange palm tree wallpaper. The other room needs to be cool blue. You would never design two rooms together like that but George and Gloria do. And it’s a signal, it’s a code to the audience that yes, this is a bit surreal.

DB: You can have a unique tone, but if you don’t establish it until 45 minutes into the movie, then you’ve failed. You need those visual markers to let you know that wallpaper’s just too perfect for this to take place in the exact same reality I live in.

Drug use in films is usually pretty didactic, but you have your protagonists take them in what feels like a non-judgmental manner here. RO: That’s how we like to do drugs. Non-judgmentally. [Laughs.]

DB: That was one of the first things we conceived at the script level because it’s so in line with that theme of moral relativism. We’re not sitting here saying eleven year olds should be doing coke, but we wanted to paint a portrait of characters that were levelled and had good intentions and you’d feel comfortable sitting and having lunch with them and talking about their lives, but you also see them doing things that are perceived by most of society as evil.

RO: It’s playing with the idea that you mentioned where normally, that is a signal to an audience member that this person is bad. That’s just not how real life works. There are people who do drugs that are perfectly good people. And yes, if your son is thirteen years old and his friend is trying to get him to do coke, that’s evil in your mind in that relative situation. But it’s not the same thing as murdering somebody. It’s not the same thing as keeping a person chained up in your basement.

DB: It was also a way to compartmentalize these characters, to show that their identities were very multi-faceted, that George could both have done incredibly evil things, but he’s doing all these things because he loves his wife and he actually is a good husband.

You’re keying into something that was really important to us: it’s so easy, and it’s part of the common language of film, to put a character in a box. You’re either a protagonist or an antagonist. You’re either an evil person or a good person. And it’s a challenge both for us as filmmakers and for an audience when they’re digesting this story, to try to carry both of those things in your head at once. “This is a character that is doing something I morally disagree with but I love them though. What’s going on here? This is making me feel weird.”

It’s interesting to see Bill Skarsgård give such an “all-American” performance here. RO: We had this idea in our head of this young Johnny Depp, this River Phoenix, late 80s/early 90s heartthrob that they just don’t make anymore, and we just couldn’t find it. And then here comes Bill. We had seen him in these sort of more genre-based roles and things like that. We’d never seen him be charming like he is in this.

DB: He’s usually the opposite of charming. Like in Castle Rock and It.

RO: As soon as we Skyped with him, we were like. that’s it! He’s got it! He’s like, long and lanky but handsome as the day is long and everything too, he’s the perfect guy.

DB: Bill takes the craft very seriously but he’ll do a [comedy] bit with us for five minutes. He’s very jokey as well. We’re in love with him. RO: And he is so built for it. He has these big eyes. He has this, like, “hot Steve Buscemi” thing going on. I’m sure he and his team discussed this and [thought] ‘you’ve got nothing else like this’. So if it’s bad or whatever, we’ll slip it under the rug, but if it’s good, who knows what this could get you? He shouldn’t just play the boogey-man. There’s a lot more to him.

DB: There’s so much more to him than the scary clown.

‘Villains’ is in US cinemas now. Comments have been edited for clarity and length.

#villains #bill skarsgård #dan berk #robert olsen #maika monroe #scary clown #letterboxd

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