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a-n-conrad · 4 years ago

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Dinner With May (PS4!Peter Parker x Reader)

[Summary: After the events of the PS4 Spider-man game, you find yourself and your boyfriend, Peter, having dinner at his aunt’s house. For some reason, Peter seemed even more anxious than usual. It wasn’t until you overheard a conversation between him and his aunt that you figured out why. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: PS4 Spider-man spoilers, not canon compliant, marriage/proposals, anxiety

Request: From my request survey (https://forms.gle/LbodcqZ7nxfGbNW96)]

It had been a chaotic month for you and Peter. Peter had been working almost nonstop as Spider-man, having to fight all of his biggest villains along with his mentor and the man that his aunt worked for, two men that he looked up to and trusted. He had been hurt fairly badly at certain points, and you had to patch him up when he did.

Not to mention, at one point Dr. Octavius had released a plague onto New York in an attempt to get revenge against Norman Osborn, and for the few days after that, you were helping Miles Morales and Peter’s Aunt May work to help all the people at the F.E.A.S.T. center that were going there for shelter as the city descended into chaos. By the end of it, May had gotten sick, Peter had broken multiple bones, and you and Miles had been almost killed a few different times. Peter was barely able to save May in time, and the clean-up still wasn’t done, but you guys were finally able to take a day to relax.

May had noticed that the two of you had been working nearly constantly, so she had invited the two of you over for dinner. May was a sweetheart. And she was an amazing cook, too so you were relatively excited to get to sit down for a nice meal with Peter and his aunt.

She was making your favorite, which you had told her a thousand times she didn’t need to do. But she was insistent. At this point, she switched between cooking your favorite meal and Peter’s every time the two of you went over for dinner.

You didn’t get the chance to go over to her house as much as you would like. You were busy enough with your job, and most nights Peter was gone before dinner to go stop crimes throughout the city. So more often than not, you were on your own for dinner, grabbing something quick from a shop that does takeout on your way home from work late in the evening.

But you had taken the day off of work to finally get a chance to relax, and you had insisted that Peter do the same, despite his protests that he was “totally fine” and “couldn’t take a day off”. Eventually, you had to get Miles to promise that he could handle one night on his own and that he would call Peter if anything came up that he needed help with. He was still pretty new to everything, but he could manage the petty crimes on his own.

- - - - -

The sun was already setting by the time the two of you got to May’s house. It had taken you almost an hour to get Peter out of the apartment that you shared, between him needed to call Miles to check-in and him nervously trying to make sure that he remembered everything. He apologized profusely for the entire trip over for making you late, and you spent the entire time trying to convince him that he didn’t need to apologize.

He had finally calmed down a bit by the time you got to his aunt’s house. He was always pretty anxious, especially when he wasn’t in his Spider-man suit, but somehow he seemed extra nervous tonight. You wondered if maybe his mental health had been suffering lately, after everything that had happened. You had to admit that you were starting to get a bit worried about him. You knew he could take care of himself, but sometimes he just didn’t. He had this bad habit of sacrificing his health and safety for the people around him and you were worried that he was doing that again.

So you hoped that dragging him to a nice dinner with his aunt would get him to take a bit of time for himself. She had been trying to get him to take better care of himself for as long as you could remember, so maybe she could do something to help convince him to take a few days to himself every once in a while. You didn’t want to make it seem like you were ganging up on him, but you had almost lost him a few times in the recent past and you weren’t ready for that.

“So which one of us do you think is going to insist on doing dishes after dinner first tonight,” You asked, your tone a bit teasing as you tried to lighten the mood a bit and distract Peter from his anxiety.

“Hmmm,” He pretended to think about it, the way he usually did when you teased him and he decided to play along, “Probably you, since you always seem to beat me to it.”

“Now that’s not true,” You place your hand over your heart in mock offense, like one of the ladies in a Victorian Era period drama, “I let you do the dishes on my birthday.”

He shook his head and chuckled a bit at that, before finally knocking on the door to his aunt’s house.

She opened the door with a smile on her face and the smell of amazing food wafting out of the kitchen. She greeted you each with a hug, letting you into the house like it was your house too. She had tried to convince you that you didn’t need to knock, but you insisted. You got a bit anxious when manners were in question. Maybe your anxiety was part of the reason that you and Peter worked so well together.

“It’s so nice to see you two,” May said as the two of you walked into the house. Her eyes almost started welling up with tears as she looked at you and Peter. Peter had officially revealed his identity as Spider-Man to her in the heat of everything happening and, while she had known the entire time, she had been incredibly worried for his safety with everything that was happening.

“It’s nice to see you too, Aunt May,” Peter almost melted as he walked into the living room. The tension seemed to drain from his shoulders as he looked at his aunt and took in the fact that she was safe, “How are feeling?”

“Just fine, Peter,” She said, her voice kind and reassuring in the way that you knew would calm Peter’s nerves a little, “I’ve been recovering pretty well, and it helps to get a day off to rest.”

You could tell that the last sentence was a little pointed, not in a scolding way, but instead in the way your mom did when she knew you hadn’t had any water all day. With a bit of teasing but mostly with care and concern for your wellbeing. And you could tell that he could hear it too by the slightly sheepish look that crossed his face.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re doing well,” You responded, unable to stop the smile from crossing your face. It was always kind of cute to see him come back home. You got to see him in a lot of different lights, as Peter Parker the scientist, the photographer, the awkward date, and of course, the city’s hero. But despite all of these different personas, you had to say that Peter Parker, the doting nephew was one of your favorites, “Thank you so much for inviting us over.”

“Of course, dear,” She turned to you with the same soft smile on her face, “You know you’re always welcome over, I’m just thankful that you managed to convince my nephew to take enough time off to come to visit me.”

You chuckle a little at that, “Of course, May. You know he’d come visit more if he wasn’t so busy with trying to stop every crime in New York.”

“Oh, I know. And I appreciate you looking out for him, dear.”

- - - - -

Dinner was nice. One of those moments that you wished you could freeze in time. You were warm and your stomach was full and you were smiling the entire time. It was the first time in a long time that you were pretty sure that nothing bad would happen for at least the next hour. You got to be domestic for just a little while, safe and happy and surrounded by the love of your life and his family.

“Alright, I’ll get started on the dishes,” You said when the meal ended, shooting a wink at Peter as you stand. May shot you the same exasperated look that she always did, but let you take her plate. She had given up on trying to stop you a long time ago, realizing that you would insist no matter what she said. Peter just chuckled a bit, remembering your conversation from earlier.

Doing dishes alone in the kitchen was nice sometimes. It was a moment for you to collect yourself. You loved May and Peter, and you didn’t mind spending the whole night with them, but sometimes a few moments of quiet was nice. The smell of the food still wafted around you, and the sound of the water rushing from the sink made you think of a waterfall sometimes, even though doing the dishes wasn’t exactly the most enjoyable chore.

Sometimes, if you focused, you could still hear the conversation that was going on in the dining room. You didn’t intend to eavesdrop or anything, you were just curious. Usually, they’d just alk about F.E.A.S.T. or maybe reminisce about when Peter was a child. It was just nice to listen in a bit on their small talk, getting to know what Peter was like with just his aunt and no one else around.

Today’s conversation was a bit different, though.

“So have you asked her yet, Peter?” You heard Aunt May ask, piquing your interest.

“No, of course not,” Peter sighed, “With everything that’s going on, all of the clean-up throughout the city, there really hasn’t been a good time.”

“I suppose that’s fair, Pete, but you’re going to have to ask eventually. Unless you don’t want to,” You were sure they were talking about you, but you weren’t quite sure exactly what he was planning on asking you. Well, maybe. But you didn’t want to assume. You didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“I do! I really do,” Peter responded, almost outraged at the idea that he didn’t actually want to ask, “I just want it to be perfect. And you know we’re so busy. This is my first day off since everything went down with Mr. Li, so I hardly have time to plan a romantic dinner.”

“Peter, you don’t have to plan out the perfect romantic dinner, I promise.”

“But what if she says no,” He sighed, sounding defeated, “It’s dangerous to be with me. I could put her in danger. And even if I don’t, what’s going to happen when she gets sick of having to take care of me? It’s not easy to deal with me running off all the time and coming back with cuts and broken bones.”

“No, it’s not easy,” May sighed, “But she’s been here for this long. She knows what she’s getting herself into, and she’s stayed this long. Has she ever asked you to stop what you were doing or to choose between her and Spider-man?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Then she’s not going to,” May explained, and you couldn’t help but nod, even though neither of them could see you, “She’s chosen to stay this long. If she was going to leave, she would’ve done it by now.”

There was a silence creeping out of the dining room as the conversation paused. You wondered if he believed it. Because May was right. It was hard, and you worried almost constantly about Peter, but you loved him. You loved him no matter how many dates he skipped out on to go fight crime or how many nights he woke you up at two in the morning to help patch him up after a fight. And you weren’t going anywhere.

The air felt heavy, and you felt your heart tighten a little. You knew Peter was a bit insecure and anxious. You knew that sometimes he didn’t feel good enough, he was overwhelmed and he felt as though the world was on his shoulder. But you had hoped that he knew that you would never think that he wasn’t good enough.

You weren’t quite sure what to do, but you couldn’t let him think like that. Before you could even think of a plan, you were walking into the dining room.

“Oh, uh, hey,” You could tell by the look on Peter’s face that he knew that you had heard their conversation, “How much of that could you hear?”

“All of it.”

All three of you froze for just a moment, before May stood up, “Well, why don’t I go finish the dishes while you two talk.”

“Peter, you know I’m not leaving, right?” You asked, sitting next to him as May walked out of the room.

“I know,” He sighed, “I just… You deserve so much better. I’m kind of a terrible boyfriend, (Y/N). I’m not super reliable, and I know I stress you out.”

“I’m stressed because I care about you, Pete. I love you and you’re constantly putting yourself in danger, but I understand it,” You explained, grabbing his hand on the table, “I love how much you want to help everyone, and I’ll always be here when you need me. I don’t mind if you have to run out on dates, because I know you still care. And you’re not a terrible boyfriend. You’re an incredibly caring person with the world on your shoulders, and you don’t have to do that alone, Pete. I’m right here, and I’m going to stay right here.”

You could see tears welling up in his eyes like he had been waiting for years to hear that. And maybe he had. You squeezed his hand lightly, hoping to reassure him a little. He looked up at you, looking at you like you were the only person in the world. Like if he had to trade the moon and all the stars in the sky to keep you safe, he would. Like you were the only thing that has ever and would ever matter.

“I love you, Pete,” You whispered, hoping it would finally get through to him.

“I love you too,” He replied, you saw his hand slip into his pocket, his fingers nervously fidgeting with something. You could tell he still had something on his mind, and you were pretty sure you knew what it was, but you didn’t want to push him. He’d ask when he was comfortable and you didn’t want to push him before that, “You heard the whole conversation, right?”

“Yes.”

“So, I’m sure you already know what I have to ask,” He sighed, sliding out of the chair and down to one knee, verifying your suspicions, “I wanted this to be more romantic, but, uh, well…”

You nod. You had a feeling he had already rehearsed the speech he was about to give at least twenty times, so you weren’t going to interrupt him, but you wanted to signal that he should keep going.

“(Y/N), I know it’s not easy to be with me. I’m flaky, I stay stupid stuff half the time, and I’d never wish the pressure of dating a superhero on anyone. But through all of this, you’re here, and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” He took a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t know if I could do what I do without you. You make me feel like the weight of everything I do isn’t as much as it is. And you give me something to go home to, somewhere safe and warm. (Y/N), you’re my lifeline through all of this mess, and it would be the greatest honor of my life if you would marry me.”

You’re crying so hard by the end that you don’t even notice the ring he pulls out of his pocket. You’re too busy trying to look him in the eyes through your tears, “Of course I will.”

You dropped down to hug him, and he pulled you as close to him as he could. It was a firm hug, and you could tell he was focusing really hard on not squeezing too tight. So you hugged him tighter. You staying like that for a few moments, soaking his shirt with happy tears, before he pulled back from the hug to grab your hand and slide the ring onto your finger.

“Congratulations,” May interrupted from the doorway, a wide grin on her face and proud tears in her eyes, “Now what do you say we have some cake to celebrate?”

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

#ps4 spiderman #ps4 peter parker #spiderman #peter parker #spiderman x reader #Peter Parker x reader #PS4 pater parker x reader #ps4 spiderman x reader #marvel #marvel x reader

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reversecreek · 4 years ago

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poppy, snapdragon, zinnia

poppy : what comforts your muse ?

comfort is a bit of an alien concept to bradley tbh..... she rly didn’t grow up w a lot of it. her mum did her best bt a lot of the time bradley had to comfort her rather than the other way around. bradley had to adapt to her surroundings in a way bc anything else would be like surviving as a hothouse orchid in antarctica which is just <3 not gna happen. bc of this bradley can find comfort during even the most terrifying moments. it’s a bit like she goes someplace else inside her head. she’s good at detaching frm situations. she does this a lot when she needs comfort. sometimes when she lays in bed she pretends her mum’s laying w her and that bradley’s stroking the hair from her face like she used to whenever she got bad. rooftops comfort bradley. it’s like how cats seek high vantage points to feel secure bc they can oversee everything from their perch on top of the world. growing up bradley wld go to this one rooftop that overlooked the train tracks n whenever it came by she’d just like. scream as loud as she could n let the sound of the train swallow it. sometimes she pictured all the birds falling dead frm the sky when it happened or a hole tearing it open or great jagged cracks appearing in the pavement. it was nice to feel powerful for once. another thing is she likes going to deserted playgrounds in the dead of the night n jst sitting smoking on the creaky swingset like a victorian demon child from an old haunted manor in a horror movie. smashing things brings her catharsis. can’t express how angry she is all the time so letting any of that out brings a lot of relief. she’s also embarrassed to admit it n never would bt growing up she had an imaginary friend she made up a whole life for who worked for her father bt didn’t agree w the things he did n got her n her mum out to hv another life. sometimes he visits her in dreams n bradley’s so angry at him for not existing tht she attacks him w a butcher’s knife.

snapdragon : is your muse merciful ? why or why not ?

not rly honestly. i mean... she kind of just hasn’t been allowed to be merciful. or like. if her dad witnessed her being that way ever it would be like kill bill sirens blaring n bradley wld know she’d massively fucked up. he thinks getting upset is a childish trait n he also thinks compassion falls into this category which is completely fking absurd n unreasonable but that’s just him. so like... bradley’s kind of absorbed some of this mindset. or it’s like. a prison door she’s constantly trying to pick the lock of bt it’s very difficult not to fall into this path that tony’s made to feel so natural of just... not giving a fk about anyone even herself. that said there is like... idk. i don’t excuse any of bradley’s actions n she’s objectively bad in a lot of ways bt there’s also a tiny part of her heart that wants to be good like. she doesn’t Want to be like her dad in any way it’s kind of just the cards she’s been dealt but that doesn’t mean she isn’t constantly trying to reshuffle them as if it’ll make a new set appear. in very rare occasions bradley does let some ppl off the hook n give them a break like.... if she can tell ur actually a genuinely good person she won’t rly understand it bc that doesn’t quite compute w her experience of the world or the way she’s come to know things are in life but she’ll like. not want to completely eviscerate it if she doesn’t have a proper reason to. she’s kind of confusing honestly like. she’ll be so violent n outrageous one day n then another she’ll be walking alone n see a bee drowning in a puddle n crouch down to flick it out with a leaf. her brain’s very morally ambiguous it’s almost as if there’s a little ember of light in there that doesn’t want to die but more often than not is snuffed out to the point that u think she’s pitch black.

zinnia : how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ? has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?

god............... slides on a pair of blacked out sunglasses n also a black leather jacket from the matrix so noone can see my eyes tearing up n they think i look so fking stylish they’re distracted by the look i’m serving.......... losing her mum was like. can’t even think of a sentence big enough to capture how deeply wrong it made bradley feel in her bones abt everything. it felt a bit like the world had stopped turning. her mum had this vintage jewellery box with a silky lining and a little ballerina that would turn rly slowly whenever u wound it as if it was just about to kick the bucket forever every single time n bradley like. when her mum disappeared she wld listen to the little song it made every night for months. she’d call her mum’s number n get her voicemail n leave so many. at first they were angry bt then they turned into just talking as if she was listening on the other end. sometimes she’d even pause for a small silence like she hoped a voice come. eventually the ballerina stopped twirling n her mum’s voicemail got full but bradley never felt finished no matter how many things tried to tell her she was. bradley loved her mum like. she loved her more than anything. her being gone turned out what little light she had n bradley still isn’t sure how to turn it back on. she hasn’t rly tried to b honest with u. she isn’t sure she wants to see any more. might just b easier to live in the dark if u pretend u never knew what the light was like in the first place. if u don’t expect anything different.

#oh this one was so sad............ sighs n lks away #thank u fr sending sexy i love u #bradley | memes #bradley | muse #death tw #grief tw #abuse tw #implied #piratejct

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ceruleanvulpine · 8 years ago

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re-reread special edition: footnotes

that is to say, the bad beginning: rare edition footnotes, which some helpful person has posted here. Book Club Beware, Spoilers Abound

In the years since the book’s publication, many people who have read the book have besieged me with questions concerning the iotas of the story, exactly how I came to know these iotas, and if I cared to add anything to my report. My reply to these questions is always the same. “Look behind you,” I say, and then I leap out of the window and slide down the drainpipe of the hotel, art gallery, or interrogation room in which I have been staying. Sometimes there is a car waiting for me. Other times it is someone in the car who is waiting.

The actual Bad Beginning doesn’t have as much of that lemony fresh style to which I have become accustomed, so it’s nice to get back to this. Mr. Snicket, please stop leaping out of windows.

I have a few moments to add the following notes to iotas within the text of The Bad Beginning, reprinted here in the feeble hope that these police inspectors, art dealers and chambermaids will leave me alone.

Oh! They pulled part of that monologue in episode two from here!

On that particular occasion, the Baudelaire parents not only gave their children permission but encouraged them to leave the house, as the adults had some pressing business to attend to. This business was delayed indefinitely due to death.

I have no comment on this it’s just very good.

The Baudelaire table was not used exclusively for dinner. (…) One thing I remember from my time at the table was that it was always necessary to use a coaster underneath one’s beverage so as to not leave an unsightly ring on the wood.

@snicketsleuth has used this as evidence that Lemony was at the Baudelaire mansion on the day of the fire, but they have also discussed how the family tree in UA only works if Lemony’s mother’s initial is the branch he comes from; given the fact that Beatrice is allergic to peppermints and Lemony refers to “the famous Baudelaire peppermint allergies,” it seems just as likely to me that Bertrand took Beatrice’s name rather than the other way around, meaning that Lemony is reminiscing about much longer ago.

This was an official fire department, which despite hundreds of years of existence has not managed to stamp out fire completely. Just recently I was forced to stamp out a fire completely, when I became so immersed in reading a philosophical work entitled Nobody’s Family is going to Change that I completely forgot about some Gruyère cheese fondue I was reheating. Also, I have reason to believe that the O that appears on the official fire department insignia stands instead for a person’s name.

Our narrator, in fine form, pivots from absurd literalism (the fire department has failed to completely get rid of fire) to, uh, apparently unaware hypocrisy (of all people, Snicket, YOU let unattended food catch on fire?) to unfounded paranoia (I don’t THINK it stands for Olaf Fire Department, L).

I love him.

Curiously enough, Mr. Baudelaire’s brandy bottle was found on the remains of the dining table, with no coasters nearby. This would indicate that either the coasters were burned beyond recognition, or the Baudelaires had received a visitor who had no manners whatsoever.

Count Olaf: shows up to your house! drinks your brandy without a coaster! commits arson!

For more information on the Doldrums, interested parties might turn to chapter 2 of Norton Juster’s alleged allegory The Phantom Tollbooth.

@jewishsnickets !!!

For more information on the destruction of the Royal Gardens, interested parties might turn to the following articles in The Daily Punctilio, the city’s newspaper: “Arson suspected in Destruction of Royal Gardens,” by Jacques Snicket, and “Absolutely No Arson or Any Other Suspicious Thing Associated with the Royal Gardens, which Simply Burned to the Ground and Then Were Covered in Dirt Due to Wind, Says Official Fire Department,” by Geraldine Julienne. Incidentally, the Royal Gardens had several ornate wooden benches ideal for sitting and reading, or for contemplating the more exotic plants contained in the Poisonous Pavilion. All of these benches where lost in the destruction except one, which has since been moved to the lobby of a hotel. It is easily recognizable due to a small unsightly ring, left by someone who did not use a coaster underneath his or her beverage.

1) The reference to poisonous plants ties in with the theory that the case Justice Strauss was dealing with (with the poisonous plant, and the illegal use of someone’s credit card) was the destruction of the Royal Gardens, which Jacques was investigating.

2) This bench, apparently used by Olaf, turns up in The Penultimate Peril and again in The Beatrice Letters, which is fucking amazing.

p.23 …the stuffed head of a lion, which was nailed to the wall. For more information about the abuse of lions, interested parties might turn to Book the Ninth. Professional lions are often named after their trainers, but I have been unable to determine if the lion on Count Olaf’s wall was Beatrice or Bertrand.

Hey……. this is uncalled for

Also, my sister has proposed that some of these eyes hid secret peepholes, cameras, or microscopic lenses, as in the Baudelaire home.

this sentence is a fucking journey, taking you as it does from “olaf that’s fucked up” to “as in WHERE??”

Despite Geraldine Julienne’s article in The Daily Punctilio “No Poisonous Plants Were Removed from Royal Gardens Prior to Destruction, Official Fire Department Reports.” I have reason to believe that the poisonous plant Justice Strauss referred to was removed from the Royal Gardens prior to its destruction.

See!!!

pp.41-42 From a street vendor, they purchased olives after tasting several varieties and choosing their favorites. My commonplace book contains following interview: LS: On the day in question, did three children-a fourteen-year-old girl, a boy a bit older than twelve who was wearing glasses, and a young baby with somewhat peculiar teeth-purchase from you some olives, after tasting several varieties and choosing their favorites? Vendor: Yes.

LEMONY, YOUR RESEARCH IS BAD

p.55 …if anyone had looked into the Baudelaire orphans’ bedroom… Two people did, of course.

Ah, no, see, this is where the really creepy note I remembered was.

._’

p.62 …the Fountain of Victorious Finance… Readers of Book the Seventh will remember that fountains are like top hats in that they provide hollow spaces in which things can be hidden (please see my note to page 6), and I imagine the damp surroundings of a fountain’s innards would be comforting if the person hiding inside had recently survived a fire.

(waves “beatrice survived” flag)

The songs include the following: “Dreary, Dreary” “The Butcher Boy” “Vide le Cercueil, Vide Mon Cœur” “Place Daturas on My Grave” “La Belle Dame Sans Merci” “Dry Bones” “Bizarre Love Triangle” “Dans des Terrains Cendreux” “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” “Lately I’ve Become Even More Lonely, So I’m Crying Harder Than Usual” (unfinished)

Dreary, Dreary is a real and upsetting song by the Gothic Archies, based on the books.

“The Butcher Boy” could be either a sad folk song called The Butcher’s Boy about a man who abandons his lover or a “bawdy” and “festive” Italian tarantella sometimes called The Butcher Boy??

“Vide le Cercueil, Vide Mon Cœur“ (”empty the casket, empty my heart”) is…. a fictional aria from a fictional opera called “The Posthumous Revenge,” which is itself in a book by Edward Gorey. Amazing.

“Place Daturas On My Grave” doesn’t seem to exist anywhere else, but daturas are referenced in a later footnote.

“La Belle Dame Sans Merci” is, of course, a poem by Keats.

“Dry Bones” is a biblical folk song??

I had previously assumed “Bizarre Love Triangle” was just a reference to the events of the VFD backstory, but no, it’s a New Order song and now it’s making me sad about Lemony, thanks Haniel.

“Dans des Terrains Cendreux“ is the opening line of the poem “La Béatrice” by, yup, Charles Baudelaire.

“I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” is a song by Hank Williams, although the last one is… uh… presumably Lemony’s take on it.

The Victorian art of flower arranging is a coded system in which each flower in an arrangement conveys a certain message. Below are some flowers and their Victorian symbolism: Aster: Cheerfulness in old age Chrysanthemum: truthful

Datura: “I dream of thee”

Peppermint: cordiality, warmth of feeling Fennel: worthy of praise Nasturtium: heroism, patriotism None of these are flowers believed to have been used that evening. Please see also my notes to pages 6, 18 and 62

Bolding mine. Also, those footnotes are the thread about the possible survivor hidden in the fountain. HMMM.

p.142 No one seemed to notice that he held a walkie-talkie the entire time. My commonplace book contains the following interview: LS: On the night in question, during the performance of Funcoot’s play The Marvellous Marriage, did you notice that Count Olaf, the production’s start, was holding a walkie-talkie the entire time? Audience member: No. LS: How about you? Another audience member: No. LS: You? Another audience member: No. LS: You? Another audience member: No. etc. p.146 “But Violet is only a child!” one of the actors said. “She’s not old enough to marry.” My commonplace book contains the following interview: LS: On the night in question, did you say, “But Violet is only a child!” one of the actors said. “She’s not old enough to marry.” Actor: I think so.

YOUR RESEARCH METHODS ARE BAD AND YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD

P.157 In the darkness, Violet looked like a ghost, her quite wedding gown moving slowly across the stage. My commonplace book contains at least seventeen interviews with people who remarked that due to the facial resemblance, the white dress, and the dim lighting, Violet Baudelaire looked quite a bit like a woman who is no longer alive.

hello…….. this has killed me

#asoue #ceruleanrambling #current reading events #rereread #the puzzling book club

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