#but that does not mean her fights are not masterfully written when she gets them or that she isn't tough as a bag of nails.

[fiapple]

i'm getting towards the end of the skypeia arc, & i'd like to say just how much i adore the way the female strawhats have been treated.

just... every aspect of how the way their characters have been previously contextualized influences the story-line is treated with a masterful amount of consideration. we're given so many layers to both of them that enrich not only their characters specifically, but the arc, and the one piece world as a whole. without nami & robin having their specific skills, and their specific values, without those being built upon, the story would have come to a halt.

you could not have skypeia without nami & robin being who they are as individuals. not just because they never would've gotten there without nami, but also because the way these women think is itself foundational to the machinations of the arc as a whole.

to be totally upfront, if you think any other strawhats were more central to the skypeia arc than nami & robin were you are full-on fucking lying to yourself.

[starseneyes]

Chenford - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 5 - Ep 11

"The Naked and the Dead" AKA "Chenford is SOOOO married"

SPOILER WARNING: I will spoil the entire episode, likely the entire show, and I am addicted to details. Please proceed with caution.

Everybody primed and ready to go? Let's dive in!

"Hey, let me do it."

Timelines are tricky on this show, so I really don't think this was after the "second" date, but later. We saw in the cold open that Nolan and Celina were on a case during the day, so I think Tim and Lucy have been sneaking in dates and we're MAYBE a few days or a week past the end of the last episode.

So, that cute little glance Lucy gives Tim before uttering "let me do it" made me squee. Yes, I squee like a little girl kicking in a too-tall chair. Let me flail. I'm good at it!

Tim steps back and lets his wife girlfriend get to work on the coffee machine.

We know he's into black coffee (and clearly she knows his order after all the years on the job together), and I bet if he has a machine at home, it's either a grind-and-brew to give him whole bean goodness in a more instant form, or it's that "one cup" model I gave my husband to keep at work. Insert coffee. Insert water. Brew.

"So, what'd you guys get up to last night." "Nothing!"

Tim. Oh, Tim. Remember last week when I said you should stop lying? Yeah... maybe time to take my advice because your "nothing" is louder than a lot of "somethings".

To be fair, Nolan did say, "You Guys", which might trigger Tim's Fight-or-Flight response. Fleeing the scene might have appeared less suspicious.

Lucy slips in with her well-practiced UC skills on full display. See, she's had time to prepare, this time, and she's not going to get caught in the early stages of her secret romance.

She rattles off her love of the new Chagall exhibit while Tim suddenly gets lost in the aroma of his coffee so he can't open his big mouth, again. He seriously can't even look at either of them.

Tim finds a spec of dust on the floor to admire, sips his coffee, and hopes nobody notices.

Also, can we talk about Lucy handing Tim his coffee!? I know she could have done it at any other time in their relationship. I mean, she was his Boot and then his Gofer. She's handed him MANY a cup of coffee over the years.

But there is something so bloody domestic about Lucy Chen handing her boyfriend a cup of coffee.

"Nothing? You had all morning to come up with a cover story and that's what you went with?"

First off, I love the tone change from Lucy sending Nolan off to confronting Tim.

Second, I love how Tim immediately has to right the wrong of him being perpendicular to her and set himself directly in front of her, feet pointing towards what he desires. (Any New Girl fans out there?)

"Woah, woah. He bought it, didn't he?" "Uhhh."

I love this teasing. Both Eric Winter and Melissa O'Neil excel at something I adore in actors... the Art of the HUM. It can be "uh" or "hm" or "mm".

I don't care which of the "H" "U" "M" s you use and in what combination, a great actor can use them to add layers to a scene and make it feel completely natural rather than written-in.

Chenford fans are blessed with both actors masterfully pulling it off. Think Matthew Goode in A Discovery of Witches. If there's a King of the HUM, it's him.

But these two are pretty high up there in terms of mastery.

"What if he had asked you a follow-up question about the exhibit?"

There's that competitive spirit coming out with these two. Tim wants to prove that his excuse is more fool-proof than hers.

And, Tim, while you may be the Master of Tests, Lucy is the Master of Cover Stories. Remember Dim and Juicy's meet-cute Lucy created that made you think naughty thoughts you tried to cover up with veiled barely-there compliments? Lucy's gonna school you, former TO.

"Let him. I read the catalogue to the exhibit cover to cover."

First off, how the hell does Melissa O'Neil make that line sound hot? The world may never know.

Secondly... BOOM, Tim Bradford! You've been schooled by the master! Lucy is the queen of preparation. For goodness sake, she read psych journals trying to prepare to break up with her ex-"Work In Progress".

Lucy has a pattern, and it's a good one when your SO becomes your SO and you don't want anyone to know... o.

"Mmhmm"

See? Master of the HUM.

"I hear you have Citizens Academy today." "I do. Do you have any tips?"

She trusts him completely, and I love that he immediately rattles off information to help her. At this point, he knows exactly what she needs to hear, and what will be useful to her.

Also, Tim's disdain for screenwriters is strong. Or someone in the writer's room is really tired of unsolicited screenplays in their inbox.

"So... um, what are you doing tonight." "Nothing... I hope."

Ooooh, Velvet Voiced Tim is back! Eric Winter puts this velvety quality into Tim's voice when he's in boyfriend-mode, and it's so bloody delicious.

I did VO for over 20 years, so I get SUPER excited about these little shifts in performance. Immediately, we know what he means. Yowza.

"Nothing sounds perfect."

Okay, I have to be upfront and honest, here. My original prediction was that they would not have sex for the first time off-screen and that they would not have sex this episode.

But when this scene dropped as a promo (and I love that they did widescreen with wings when it was too awkward for the crop), I second-guessed myself. Did they... do it off-screen!?

No. Now, I firmly believe, no. But this scene had me going for a minute!

Narratively, it makes more sense to drag it out. Yes, I know that in real life some people sleep with one another the moment they meet. But I believe for these characters in this moment... it makes sense to take their time.

But when I first heard they were doing "nothing" and they'd also done "nothing" the night before with only the morning to make up a cover story... I questioned my choices hard.

And now my mind's in the gutter.

Okay, readjusting. Let's get back to Tim's beautiful smirk as he watches his woman depart. "I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave", anyone? Our kitten is smitten.

Lucy On A Mission

Lucy works at the computer, lost in thought and using that big brain and compassionate heart of hers.

Aaron slides up, completely unaware of what's on her computer. He's ready to spill the tea, and the tea is standing right beside him.

"You'll never guess who's coaching Little League." "Nolan?" "No. Sergeant Friendly."

I love the glare Tim gives Aaron. Because it's his damn fault. But I also love Aaron poking fun at Tim. Their dynamic's been a lot of fun to watch this season.

"Whu- How did that happen? Can I watch?"

Ma'am. This is a PRECINCT. Please pick your panties up off the floor and resume normal operating function.

I mean, wow, Lucy! There was some heat in that question and Aaron is right there!

Lucy Materializes Out of Thin Air

I had to watch it twice to pinpoint where the hell she came from at the ball park. So, my initial surprise was akin to Tim's.

"Hey." Hi."

How. Is. This. HOT!? They're just saying "hi" and it's so charged with electricity the baseball field lights are about to turn themselves on. There is absolutely zero chill with these two since they started dating, let's be real.

"Um... who are you?" "What?" "I... the... a lot of heart? They're kind of a mess." "They're kids. It's supposed to be fun." "Yeah..."

I hear that edge in his voice on that line.

It's the same edge that gets into his voice anytime he discusses anything remotely connected to his father or childhood. So many of his choices are informed by the scars he still bears—physical and emotional.

Tim walks away, a little frustrated, because he can see Lucy doesn't get it. To be fair, he isn't explaining it. He's not communicating with her at all here.

But, also to be fair, he's never sought counseling or therapy for what he survived. There's a lot bottled up and it can be hard to pour it out in digestible bits if you've never learned how.

Genny fills in the gaps. That's all Lucy needs to process where Tim is and what he's going through.

I grew up with a lot of yelling, name-calling, and verbal and emotional abuse. Manipulation. Control.

One of my greatest joys is breaking those cycles with my own children—giving them a better childhood.

Tim watched the anger and the volatile nature of the last coaching situation here. He remembers his own father. He wants different for these kids, even if they aren't his own.

"He's trying not to be like him." "Yeah."

Lucy deflates a little, here. It was only silly puffery meant to tease, but now she gets it. Now she sees where this comes from, and she feels a little guilty. Of course, she didn't know, but now she does.

*Tim thumbs ups a kid dropping a ball* "Well, I mean, there is such a thing as over-correcting."

Here's where Lucy knowing Tim so well comes in. She doesn't try to talk to him about it. She doesn't try to tell him what to do.

Instead, she gets in there to help course-correct so Tim can keep being supportive, and she'll provide the structure so he doesn't have to have the anxiety of in any way resembling his father.

This is such a demonstration of love, to me. She knows he's not ready to deal with all of this. There will be a day—perhaps when his father dies—that he'll start to process through everything that happened. But, in the meantime, she'll help him through.

This is where Tim and Lucy live, now. It's a "we". It's an "us". It's something neither of them has ever had to this degree, before, even though Tim was married once-upon-a-time.

Lucy and Tim are a team, now, and this episode highlights why—they complement each other. They balance each other. They sharpen each other.

And in this way, Tim's very fortunate to be falling in love with someone with a pysch degree who can understand what's needed. She's the ideal partner to help with this because she knows him enough, now, not to push. But she also knows enough to provide a safe space for when he is ready to discuss.

"What are you doing?"

You never know what your girl is gonna do, do you, Tim?

To note, the last time he asked her this was when he was in the hospital recovering from spinal surgery. She was supporting him, then, too. She has a knack for it. (and I think the time before that was when he caught her putting boots in his locker... she also has a knack for pranks, of course)

"My name is Lucy. I am Coach Bradford's... friend."

Look. At. Tim's. FACE. Look at that bemused smile when she asserts she is his "friend". There was a time when he wouldn't even have accepted that moniker.

It wasn't until they were discussing her love life in the shop during the last 30 days of her training that she said, "we're friends" and instead of refuting it, he simply made a face.

And I love that she remains his friend even as they're transitioning into everything else. I often tell my children that my husband is my best friend—and I mean it. Nobody supports me like Matthew, lifts me up like Matthew, understands my trauma like Matthew, and makes me laugh like Matthew.

I love every layer of that man. And he loves every layer of me. And friendship goes a long way to getting to that point, I think.

Lucy rattles off instructions for how to throw a ball while Tim side-eye-fucks her and thinks of other things she can do with her hands as she's acting out the motions.

Come on, I'm not wrong here, people! Look at his face and tell me there aren't a few things happening in his mind that are not baseball-related but might involve running some bases.

Lucy disperses the kids, and Tim fires off a "You heard her" which is the Chenford Coaching Team equivalent of "Listen to your mother!"

He looks her up and down and smiles deliciously at Lucy, activating her praise kink in a delightful motion of her head.

Yes, Lucy Chen absolutely has a praise kink. And there's nothing wrong with that! But I love how Melissa O'Neil has been consistent with that little head swish Lucy does.

We've seen her do it throughout the years ("Maybe one day she'll be as good as you" comes to mind), and it never stopped. It only morphed.

Look at it at Lopez's wedding when he compliments her (in his way) and then asks her for a dance. Praise Kink Activated.

She does it at the end of 5x08 as we wait to fade to black, and there's a softer version of it when she's basking in Tim's adoration at the end of their first scene of 5x09 in the Watch Commander's office. Girl's got it bad for Tim Bradford.

He offers her the ball... but no he didn't. And I'm giggling like Lucy last episode because he's such a teenager around her, sometimes.

I've heard the expression all my life, "Love makes you young". I often think of Patrick Stewart wearing the Elf Song Hat while his wife recorded him (Google it... you'll die laughing).

With Tim, I feel like it resets him to before all the hurt and heartache in his love-life with Isabelle. He can be... free. Flirty. Fun.

But, seriously, Tim's the one who is going to get them found out for sure. Because, you know who had a front row seat to that eye-fuckery? Genny, that's who.

Y'ain't fooling anyone, Timothy.

"I think you two should co-coach. You were great together." "Oh, no, no. I'm ready to hand over the reins, entirely." "Not a chance."

I've thought about the layers in this little interaction quite a bit. Genny sees something here—whether it's the romance, the layered friendship, or the true partnership they've developed over the years.

But I feel like Tim's dealing with some self-doubt, here, and Lucy catches onto that.

I have a husband who deals with self-doubt. He's an incredible human, but I can tell when he's leaning into that and when I need to pull him back out and remind him how awesome he is.

I get that feeling here with Tim and Lucy. Maybe I'm projecting. But, I feel like he's saying, "She's better than me" and she's saying "No way, no how". Because he's not bad at this. Yes, he over-corrected a bit, but kids do need the support he offered. And Lucy brought the structure. They're better together.

I mean, just look at the way they're cleaning up together. Lucy's handing the bats to Tim and Tim's putting them away. They're doing it instinctively because helping one another and working together is completely natural, by now.

It's not something they have to discuss or consider—it's instinctual.

I've seen this in nature, before. A client of mine (yes, same client from last Meta) flew me out to Los Angeles a few times for work. I stayed with him and his wife, and I got to watch them work in the kitchen together.

After decades and decades of it being the two of them together, with no kids or anyone else in the way... it was like watching a dance.

That's Tim and Lucy. They move together rhythmically and naturally. May it be so in all aspects of their life—but I'm skipping to another episode that hasn't aired, yet, now!

"No, but seriously! I saw today why you work so well together."

And, Tim, poor, sweet Tim, opens his mouth. Tim can't get words out, and one look from his wife, and he knows to shut that mouth.

"We spend so much time together on, out on the job. It's so great that Tyler has been making friends so quickly after moving here."

Anyone else thinking Lucy's UC school was solely so she could cover up for her and her not-so-secretive secret boyfriend? Because, hello, it keeps coming in handy!

This is classic redirection. I use it with my children all the time. Just this morning my 5-year-old daughter was having an unusually hard time saying goodbye to go to school. Usually, she walks in without a glance back. Today, it was CLING city.

So, I went through the room until we finally finally found something to get her mind off of me so I could slip away.

Lucy's doing the same thing. She's pointing at something else in Genny's life to let that thought of "Tim and Lucy" slip away. It gives Genny something more personal to her to focus on, and shifts the conversation gently.

"We'll make sure he gets the best seat in the house."

Just thirty seconds ago, Tim was trying to get out of co-coaching, and they were both deflecting why they're great together, but now we're back to "we". Heck, we never left "we" for Tim and Lucy. They're a unit, now.

"What's wrong?" "There's something going on with my Domestic." "You want me to come? "No, it's okay. I got it."

Oh, how far we've come. In the past, if Tim said, "What's wrong?" to Lucy, it was surprising that he was taking interest. But, this is his girlfriend, and he knows her well. He looks to her phone for a clue as she approaches.

Then, he offers his help. This isn't TO Tim who wants to make sure his Boot doesn't mess things up. This isn't Sergeant Tim who is going to be backup for Officer Chen. This is Boyfriend Tim willing to be there for his woman, but asking what she wants because he knows she's more than capable of handling herself.

That's what hits me the hardest about this—he knows she's got it, but he's there if she wants him.

And I think that's why her "No" and the head-tilt comes off as intimately as it does... Lucy knows what Tim's offering and why. It's love he's demonstrating and she's sending a "message received" with that look.

And Tim's little "okay" downturn of his lip at the end of the clip even shows how he's not worried a bit. But he was going to offer. And I bloody love that.

Tim and Lucy and Wesley

I love this scene. It's so small and seemingly insignificant plot-wise, but it's the heart of the story, here. Okay, I'm tearing up a little.

PAUSE: TW Abuse CW Abuse

I don't want to give details, but I have people in my life who have been where these women are in the story. So, to me, I don't see the characters. I see my cousin. I see my friend. I see the girl when I was in college who was murdered by her boyfriend in the dorm.

In the case of the plot, this scene isn't necessary. But in terms of the context, it adds so bloody much. It's the message. It's the truth of what happens all too often. Gabby Petito is a recent case that made national headlines, but this happens all over, every day.

And what can we do? What options are there? How can we help? There is some heavy stuff in this episode. But, it's important for us to listen and learn.

END TW Abuse CW Abuse

I love that Tim has Lucy's back, here. She could have done this alone, but I bet she asked him along for his experience and for the weight of his strips in the discussion.

And I ADORE Shawn Ashmore (the sharp-eyed twin, as I've always thought of him), and there's something so irreverent about him sitting in that suit atop the desk that made me giggle a little the first time I saw it.

"Him and Bailey are just way too nice to be landlords." "Totally." *aggressive head-nodding Tim*

And like the Fool who took the stage immediately after the gruesome murder in the Royal Shakespeare Production of MacBeth (the Scottish play for my theatre siblings), there's the levity we need to help transition to what's next.

It's the rhythm of the scene and script where somehow this writer's room is tasked with heartache and hilarity in the same space. It takes skill to do well, and this scene does it well.

"Okay, hold on, you are a complete badass out on the streets-" *Tim question's wife's opinion aggressively* "Off hours, you're a little...." "Easy target."

Nolan's indignation combined with Celina's face make that moment. But it's all the rhythm of Tim and Lucy that gets us there. Tim and Lucy are still Tim and Lucy.

Lucy wants to try to find the compassionate angle, and Tim's going to tell it like it is.

Chenford Coach a Game

Tim and Lucy have me smiling ear-to-ear for so many reasons in this scene. Look at how sweet he is with the kids, making sure they have a good experience. Look how competitive she is. Miss "I like trophies" is coming out, and it's amazing.

"God, every time!" "Be encouraging." "Good. Good job. Good try." "We're gonna work on that."

Married. So married. Beyond married. This whole interaction is gold. And the matching hats and shirts!? Normally, I wouldn't think Prison Orange would be a good look on a cop, but these two pull it off!

Tim is coaching Lucy as much as he's coaching the kids. I see a little "teacher Tim" in that "Be encouraging", though far gentler than TO Tim. And his face right before he tells her, "We're gonna work on that" has me rolling. That little down-turned mouth cracks me up.

We're getting a sneak peek into their future with this one. And, as usual, Tim and Lucy are balancing one another out.

That's one of the things I really love about them. They're not the same person, like Lucy says his ex was. They're very different people who are on a parallel path and are willing to put in the work to make this work because they're worth it.

"I'm excited." "I know."

AHHHHHHH. I know it's a TINY, tiny thing, but the way that he so effortlessly leans into her, the way he cocks his head as he says, "I know." It's so married.

And I have to call out the camera work, here, and the directing. If we're paying attention, we see Nyla and Angela showing up as Blake goes to bat. From the other angle you might note Blake's father shooting to his feet as Blake's bat connects with the ball.

The director is allowing us to discover the story-line without dumping us in at that shot of Nyla and Angela surrounding Blake's father. And I bloody love it.

James Patterson (pre-ghost writers) took the same approach with his mystery books. If you were really paying attention, you always had the opportunity to discover the answer along with the detective. That was something the ghost writers just always missed.

It's fun to have the chance to be detectives yourself—and this director allowed us that chance.

And, I just looked it up. Robert Bella, again! That explains the composition of Tim and Lucy with the fence during the night scene at the ball-field—having Eric Winter take the two steps up so he'd be framed behind the fence instead of in the gap as Melissa O'Neil steps away for Lucy's call.

Anyway.... back to Blake's Criminal Dad...

I had hoped this was the way the story-line would go (with Blake's father being arrested at the end of the game), but I didn't call Nyla and Angela being involved.

So, that gives two more people front row seats to "Why the Hell are Tim and Lucy Coaching Together if They're Just Friends And Holy Crap Were They About to Kiss on the Sidelines?"

Also love the Genny is up there, and that she's positioned behind Blake's father. I don't know if she did it on purpose to help make him easier to find for Nyla and Angela, but that's my head-canon.

And LOOK at Tim and Lucy cheer Blake on! Married. So married.

Plus, that hi-five. I know we're all talking about what Tim has in his hand. Is it cash? We've seen him bet on things before (including that his Rookie would smoke everyone at firearm re-certification), but did Tim and Lucy bet on the game?

She definitely grabs on after the high five, and we see his fingers wiggling. Is he trying to get out of giving her the money? We might need Eric Winter and Melissa O'Neil to chime in on this one...

I have to say, I am loving domestic Chenford, and watching them find new layers to their relationship. I know a lot of people want snogging every week, but I am a huge fan of dolling it out in smaller dollops, much as the romantic aspects of this relationship have been leading up to "Do you want to go on a date?".

Yes, in real life, some people sleep together the moment they meet. Then, you have me and Matthew, who waited four years and until we were married. Lucy and Tim are somewhere between that, and I think they're doing what's right for these characters in this moment.

And I have to separate Chenford back into Tim and Lucy, for a moment, to acknowledge what might not be seen as "Chenford" to most, but totally is to me... Tim and Lucy had separate story-lines this episode.

Yes, Lucy came together on the baseball story-line. Yes, they converged at parts on the Domestic story-line. But, we got to also see them handle themselves without the other as backup. And I think that's so important for us to see as an audience—Tim and Lucy are still Tim and Lucy. They don't have to be together every second.

Tim was highly organized and communicative as a Sergeant in the shoot-out. We got to see his military-level calm and control on display.

For Lucy, we got to see her compassion, bad-assery, and conflict de-escalation without anyone having to back her up. She's a confident and competent cop.

Together, we love them. But I'm someone who also lovesTim and Lucy as Tim and Lucy—separate from Chenford.

I think it's important for the show to remind us who they are on their own so that we can appreciate them both, and not let "Chenford" become the only story-line for either. Both characters are rich and complex, and deserve the opportunity to shine separate from one another, not only when they share a scene.

PAUSE: CW Abuse TW Abuse

This story-line really broke my heart because I know those women. I've been the one in Lucy's position trying to help before one was nearly strangled to death by her husband. And she stayed... it was rough.

If you are in an unsafe situation, please reach out and get help. Here is the number for the National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233

I like to keep these Metas light and frothy, but I'd be remiss if I didn't acknowledge this plot line that isn't a story for two many people in this country and in this world.

Yes, we watch television often for entertainment, but there can be some truth in the messages we receive.

END CW Abuse TW Abuse

As always, thank you for reading and joining me on this ride. I can't wait to see what's next for Tim, Lucy, and Chenford.st

[blzzrdstryr]

Yan!Beidou x fem!reader

This drabble has been heavily inspired by @ddarker-dreams yan Beidou hcs and I am not a native English speaker so bear with me

CW: Childhood abuse, unhealthy relationship

Drop by drop the sea is drained - is what your mother used to say, when you acted disagreeable. There were plenty of instances, where your parents enforced a certain behaviour model on you - don't run, don't be rude, don't play with servants' kids. They wanted a proper lady, you were anything but. Once your goal was set - climb a tree for apples, skip boring manners lessons, or play with peers - you stopped at nothing until you reached it.

Being put in a corner, losing privileges and even whipping did little to deter you, just making you silent for a day or two, while you looked at your parents with angry and resentful eyes. With years you learnt to mask your grievances and indignation to avoid unnecessary punishment, but still you couldn’t bring yourself to agree with their ideas or become the person they wanted you to be. 

I am not the ever changing sea, I am a tall cliff standing amidst it, you once thought to yourself, when your parents decided to lash you twenty times more for disobedience and haughtiness, gritting your teeth and preparing for the incoming pain, I will continue standing.

In the end, they failed at molding you into the perfect daughter and you ended up disowned, once you publically broke off the engagement arranged years ago. Seems that their desire for perfect reputation in high society was stronger than whatever remains of love they still had for you, their child. A mix of horror and relief washed over you that day, you were free to do as you please, but had nowhere to return to.

That's how you found yourself in Liyue harbor doing odd jobs - working as a translator, performing on instruments, teaching other noble kids; skills that you acquired in your former rich life were now used to get by. And then you had the misfortune of catching Beidou's gaze. 

You were playing an erhu at Heyu teahouse that day. After Liu Su finished his tale of Guhua Brotherhood and left the stage to rest his throat, you took his place, ready to play on the strings of the instrument and hearts of your listeners. It produced a sad yet hopeful wordless tale of love, as your fingers of one hand were flying over the strings, while the other masterfully directed the bow. Some visitors closed their eyes, some gazed into the distance with a faraway look, too consumed by their thoughts and feelings, but Beidou’s stare never left you for once.

She looked just like Liu Su’s stories portrayed her: gorgeous and terrifying and you were almost enchanted. To you. Beidou looked like a hero straight out of fairy tales: with steel hard muscles, skin coarse from sea winds contrasting with surprisingly silk soft hair and a great claymore strapped to her back, a legendary captain just waiting to slay unimaginable levianthants and discover unknown lands.

She approached you, right after you finished and full of praise and mora to gift. Her loud, boisterous voice described every little detail of what she liked in your music, enough to make your cheeks feel warm. Beidou even joked at the end, that your mastery of the music was alike to the beauty of Xi Shi, enough to make fish forget how to swim and sink below at the first notes of your erhu, and even promised that she will attend your every performance when she is on land.

And Beidou did hold her word, her intimidating figure seen in the audience as you played on erhu or guzheng or pipa, ready to shower you in compliments and gifts. It was charming at first, but then the constant attention started to feel tiring, yet you still entertained her, as you felt bad for receiving countless treasures, enough to provide you for years, just for playing music.

To be honest, it wasn't that she was bad company, her straight-forward and honest nature was what drew you in, captain was everything people in your former life were not. Her laser focus on you was what initially bothered you - eye following every movement and she always remembered the littlest thing you said, something that made shivers creep up your spine. 

Despite that you still followed Beidou when she offered to show you the Crux. She boasted about all the adventures and battles she had, while her crew intently observed you. You paid them no mind, thinking that they stare because you were an outsider to their ship. 

The Crux suddenly moved, creaking and swaying on the waves, as all anchors were lifted - you almost fell from the sudden rocking, but Beidou caught you in time, confusion written on your face. You treated it all as a tasteless joke at first, after all Beidou was known for her eccentricity, but it wasn’t. Harbour was getting smaller and smaller as the ship headed into the open sea where your cries of indignation could be heard by none who would help. 

In the first weeks you cried and shouted at her, tearing your now shared cabin to shreds, constantly defying and testing the captain. You prepared yourself for the violence she will lash out and punish you for defiance, for not being the person she envisioned you to be, but she didn’t. It would be better if she matched your expectation, making it easier to hate, to defy, to continue standing strong, but she surrounded you with love and care instead.

Beidou is a great wave, overwhelming and unfairly strong, inescapable and insatiable.

Now you are locked up in her cabin, a spacious room filled with treasures Beidou acquired during her travels, and you feel like one too - the most beloved yet meaningless trinket, meant to be possessed and hidden from others’ eyes. She spends the whole night with you, keeping you close in the inescapable hug, as her breath fans your neck she’s nuzzled in.

You still lash out at her when you are awake, albeit with less spite and fire in each insult, as if your determination started to slowly wash out. Beidou doesn’t seem to mind it, as she still forces her love in you, smothering and drowning your entire being with unwanted affection. In this regard she looks like the owner of a wild cat to you, kissing and hugging you, when you still thrash in her hold, hissing and clawing at her face.

Unintentional comparison with a pet does nothing but produce dry and humorless laugh out of your lips - deep down you are scared.

You feel it in your bones, how there’s less and less energy in you to fight back - nothing you did was of any use before, so where is meaning in further resisting? You noticed how you sometimes let Beidou have her way with you and how you started to eye the skilfully made erhu she left to you in hopes that you will play once again.

You are a cliff, standing among the raging sea, proud and alone - there’s no one on this cursed ship that will help you - and Beidou is the waves, slowly chipping away at your will.

Water wears away any stone with time and looking at yourself you can’t help but wonder when will you accept that you are nothing but treasure to be kept.

[the-darklings]

╱ i only love it when you touch me, not feel me.

pairing: jean & clara verse: npfh word count: 3.1k+ warnings: nsft, bathroom/mirror sex (because that's who they are as people), rough sex (but they're both so into it I'm not sure it even counts), cockwarming. notes: so this was written all the way back in January but it's the first piece of what I considered to be the real beginning of their dynamic (which I've expanded upon in ASE) despite writing them a lot prior to this point. it's also the first time I ever tried to write from jean's pov so enjoy. this is not super explicit and more character exploration because apparently smut is good for those. as always, any feedback is loved and appreciated 🌿 ✨

He’s never cared much for his name.

Or, more accurately, never cared what sentiment it was spoken with. He’s heard his name being called lovingly, with hatred, suspicion, fear, and hatred alike. Moaned desperately and worshipped—latter he’s always preferred the most.

“I'm not going to touch you unless you beg.”

Clara, however, has an infuriatingly persistent ability to make him crave his own name. From her mouth specifically.

Jean could fuck her until she’s barely coherent and it still won’t be enough. This woman fights and fights, and doesn’t give him an inch of ground. All liquid flame and viciousness, and he can’t help but wonder where the hell she’s been hiding all this time.

With Camorra, a sly voice reminds him, Giovanni De Stefano’s deadly little matchstick. So good at death.

She is. She's a master at death and maybe that’s what makes this so fun, so good, and addictive. Why he irritatingly finds his blood burning whenever he sees her. Why he looks forward to every occasion their bodies touch. Whenever those dark eyes fixate on him and pin him in place, a monster deep down stirs, purrs at her presence. His desire is a monster with its own life, its own insatiable appetite for her.

Jean prefers when she pins him with her lithe body—eyes flashing and teeth bared, a powerful but dangerous package of hunger.

He had expected her to be meek. Broken. Especially after Tokyo. She’s proven to be anything but. Even at her worst, she’s still a sharpened blade. A danger, a promise of destruction. Damaged, certainly, but unbroken and unyielding. The more he learns about Tokyo the more his head rings with but one downright greedy thought.

The Viper hasn’t taken another lover since then. No one has touched her or tasted her since her rebirth. No one has fucked her, brought her to the edge, made her moan and shudder. Given her an escape and a release. Satisfied her.

No one knows the scrunch of her nose or the way her lips part softly. A whisper of air slipping free with every slow, lingering kiss against her throat.

Expect him.

His hips stutter at that thought. It always makes him feel good. To know that he alone has claimed some tiny part of her. Jean knows full well it’s only because she allowed him to claim it but that’s its own kind of buzz. He likes how she burns. How she yields only when she wants to. Liquid flame melting into his body like she was made to fit in his arms.

It’s sex at the end of the day. It doesn’t have to or even need to have meaning—he would know—but she makes it mean something. Emotions aside, she challenges him with such acute precision, he can’t help but come and meet her in the middle; an unending battle of wills. For all the dullness and predictability of their world, she’s a tempest, utterly untamed.

“And would you prefer if I begged?” he whispers against the shell of her ear, watching their reflection—the way they fit, the way she leans into him, trust, trust, trust, that he won’t let her fall, and they exist in these tiny victories. “Mmh? Ma vipére.”

He hums with a wolfish grin, his words throaty, pressing another greedy kiss against the back of her neck, then side, his lips dragging over her soft skin. “For you, I might,” he adds slyly, meeting her stare in the bathroom mirror again.

He might be losing, but she's losing quicker.

Clara doesn’t answer right away—a clever, careful thing that she is, his viper—and they watch each other for a moment, his pace slowing.

The bathroom door is closed, secured with one of her blades, they don’t need to rush but Jean wants to. He can savour her later, in their bed, where she’s his and his alone, where he can do everything to her. If only because he knows she’s no better. Because any scrap of pleasure she will return with an intensity that will leave him bloody.

She has in the past. His back is a colourful tale of her ravenous hunger. The Viper likes to mark him. It likely pleases her, to know she has her venom in his system in the form of her sultry whispers, kisses and moans. Blazing eyes and coil of her limbs around his.

Clara’s stare is, as usual, burning—an almost physical thing. Even like this, with him so deep inside her—and fuck if she isn’t hot, and slick, and welcoming in ways he quite remember fitting with others, and there've been plenty—she doesn’t lose her proud edge. She enjoys it, getting under his skin. Pushing him. Melting the ice, she once murmured with her mouth pressed against the taut skin of his lower stomach and sinking ever lower. Testing his self-control with her mouth wrapped around him, and her tongue searing and wet; a viper delighting in her poison spreading so effectively.

It does say something about his self-control because, despite the temptation, he doesn’t simply fuck into her until they’re both lost in pleasure so deep they can’t get out of it.

The skin of her chest is flushed, her swollen lips parted, her expression slacker with pleasure but she still stares him down.

His fingers sink into the cut of her hip, pushing her harder against the cold marble of the bathroom sinks, rolling his own hips, and it makes her shudder in his hold. So Jean presses another hungry kiss to her pulse, lets his teeth scrape against it, sucking on it. Prodding at the weak spot masterfully. He can be mean, too. She likes it when he is. Just as much as he likes it when she lets those sharper edges of hers out.

Her strong legs hold her upright but she clenches around him in reply and fuck, fuck, fuck, what is it about her?

All he wants to do is bend her over this fucking counter and fuck her until she’s screaming his name. Not that it would do him much good. Clara is as likely to let him do it as she is to graze her blade across his throat for trying. He would be lying if he said the thought of that fight doesn’t thrill him, makes him want to try it anyway. He’s only managed to get a drop on her like this a few times. Sink himself into her from behind so deeply she hadn’t been able to shake him off till she was sated and panting with pleasure.

Then, of course, the viper had tightened her grip on him in return, paying him back in kind with her bite and her venom.

The bite he enjoys a little too much. The venom is becoming… a concern.

He’s worked for years to remove any ties, any weaknesses, from his life. No one can ever have anything on him. He’s the one with the web, he’s the one who controls others. Sly implication and whispers and they’re oh, so destructive but she…

Jean snaps himself inside her, pulsing and so hard he has to grit his teeth. Clara’s hand seeks purchase desperately, her fingers snapping behind herself. Breathing deeply, she lets her nails sink into the back of his neck—firm, near painful—and he hisses through his teeth, pulling away from the hollow of her neck.

“You would like it, won’t you?” he gasps into her ear, and her nails sink deeper, so he fucks her harder. His hips are merciless against the soft skin of her thighs. Yet Clara stands unmoving, near silently goading him with her resilience and coyness. She’s so fucking wet. He’ll need a cigarette after this, or three. “On my hands and knees, non? Vicious vipère. Give in first.”

“No.”

He almost laughs at that. At the caustic hiss of her voice. Of course, she won’t. It’s why even though he’s gotten her, it makes him wonder if he truly has. If he ever will.

The more he has her, the more he wants her. And it’s a dangerous thing. To want, to crave, to hoard her the way he does.

“Then I’ll just fuck you harder, chérie.”

He wraps around her tighter, nibbling on the shell of her ear, dragging his other hand between her thighs. He feels the muscle there, the strength, he likes those legs around his waist and head too. Usually when her taste is hot on his tongue and she’s a squirming, hateful mess above him, tearing at his hair as hard as she can while she grinds onto his face.

He sucks on the curve of her neck at the memory, nibbling, wanting nothing more than to mark her with his teeth as she marked him this morning. Crinkled eyes and a content smile when she curled around him after. A predator satisfied with her hunt.

She’s addictive.

Usually, it’s the other way around. Maybe still is. But he can’t let it go much further than this. A carnal need and nothing more than that.

If he knew about this, about her…

Jean doesn’t allow the thought conclusion.

She’s nothing, he repeats to himself with every push and every strangled exhale, just a means to an end.

She never once looks away.

Clara gazes at them, takes in the way he moves in her, her eyes hooded and intent. Daring him. Even after she confessed to him how that man used to watch her. How it made her abhor every touch, despise being watched. She watches him—them, joined, with his fingers hard against her clit, drawing more of those little gasps of pleasure that sound like music to him—and he can’t help but stare too.

He should take advantage of the weakness, prod it and scrub at it until he can bend her to his will, but he loves her fire too much. Covets it like a man starved—and they both are, aren’t they—starved for more. Each other.

He wants her. For more than just a quick fuck. More than just a means by which he can bury his problems. Just more, more, more. And it sickens him, but it also makes him feel strangely relieved as well, that realisation. The acceptance of it. He would never admit it to anyone but himself but he does. It forces him to feel raw, unbalanced. He hasn’t felt like this in years. He hates it but it also makes him feel high, alive.

In revenge, he sucks on the smooth skin again, lets his teeth bite and nibble, releasing her hip and burying his fingers in her pulled-back hair. Chestnut strands loosen in his iron grasp and he only does it because he knows for a fact she doesn’t have any sharp pointy metal hidden up there. He watched her get ready. Her graceful, supple body was an open invitation for him. A sight to admire, and he did. He worshipped her with his attention, letting her know without a word how every curve and every freckle of hers sang to him. Beguiled him further.

He pulls on Clara’s hair, forcing her chin upwards, at an angle, and she still defies him. Still glares and brims with power.

A strangled pant escapes her at the change of angle, in how he slams back into her, her nails slicing into his neck. Jean hopes she draws blood even if he would have to get creative about explanations later.

“Jean.”

It’s a breathy, bewitching thing—snaring him, pulling him deeper into her, and he audibly gasps a breath, feeling even more starved. Now he wishes to claim a litany of those tiny, appreciative exhales of his name. He feels the muscles in his lower stomach grow tauter with every thrust, with every taste of her skin, and the sounds of their shared pleasure.

They penetrate the air, echoing off the walls, and they are as animalistic and as intensive as the pleasure they create.

“What?” he groans appreciatively, their eyes still locked, and heat between them sweltering. She drives him insane. He’s removed emotional attachments from himself years ago—didn’t even realise he’s still capable of them—but nothing about her, them, makes sense. She’s the one thing he can’t predict or control. “What do you want? Tell me.”

Drive me to the edge, he wants to goad her, tugging on her hair again, and he manages to dislodge a moan from the back of her throat, push me, claim what you want.

“You,” she whispers in teeth-clenched defeat but to him, it’s a symphony. This time, he won. He knows she’ll get him back. Twice as badly most likely. But saints above, did he win? She’s so open and warm, the scent of jasmines and earth mixing with his cologne and musk of sex, and he pushes into her deeper till they’re completely pressed into each other. Moulded into one being. “You.”

He feels every tense muscle in her body, and his fingers slip from her hair, curving around her throat instead, and a flutter of a smile appears, coy and knowing.

Fuck.

The things this woman does to him.

He speeds the already merciless pace until she’s a shivering mess inside his embrace, clinging out of sheer stubbornness alone. Deeper, deeper, deeper—a cruel part of him is set on planting himself inside her very marrows, so she will never be able to feel or know another lover. Not even the Italian, a voice deep down snarls. It’s so wholly and truly selfish yet he craves it. If he is to lose this game between them, he will make her lose first. Make this need between them mutual until neither of them knows where one ends and the other begins.

Jean can’t look away from her, certainly not when pushes and pushes, not when he feels her throat bob under his hand as she swallows. Wanting and needing and trusting his touch. He feels her quivering, her muscles tightening, whispering to him that—

Her orgasm washes over her like a tidal wave—slow but so intense that for the first time, he feels Clara’s legs tremble. His hold on her constricts, steadying her, and his viper withers in his embrace, a beautiful undoing. He lets her ride her orgasm out, watching her mouth, her fluttering lashes, the bead of sweat clinging between the dip of her breasts.

It's then—watching her, memorising how she looks like this; relaxed and glowing—that his own orgasm finally overpowers him. For a moment, Jean finds himself robbed of sight because she washes everything away. He spills himself inside her, letting her feel his pleasure this time. He moans for her, splinters for her, lets the world fade away just for a moment.

This is his gift, he wants to tell her then, the fact that when it’s them, it’s just them alone. There’s nothing else outside of her and he’s never allowed another this close, not since…

But he can’t adequately put that into words for her, nor does he want to. She can’t know. He hopes there will never be a day when he has to explain everything to her.

If she knew him—saw all the festering darkness like a rotting carcass out in the open—she would hate him. It would be better if she did. Maybe her hatred would make it easier to let her go.

He can’t think of that right now.

Instead Jean sinks his teeth into the slim arch of her throat, savouring the appreciative gasp she releases, dragging her nails down the side of his neck. He promised her this morning he will return the favour sooner rather than later after all.

He laps at the bite with his tongue—heat, sweat, and remnants of her soap tingling his tongue—and looks up from beneath his lashes. Her eyes appear black with pleasure. He can barely see blue in his own.

Two monsters, a thought comes then, unbidden. It’s as pleasant as it is seductive. Mainly because he knows he’s right. Cut from the same cloth, sewn into being by similar hardships, and capable of such awful things.

He’s still semi-hard inside of her but his grip on her throat loosens—and the thought she trusts him enough to let him touch her like this is thrilling enough—his palm journeying downwards. Clara sighs quietly when his palm settles against her lower stomach, and he pushes gently, savouring the breathless gasp that follows. He has to choke one back himself. She feels like heaven. Or hell. A mix of both. Still, he keeps pressing, letting the pressure sit there, feeling himself twitching inside her. Them, joined together at the seams, and the heat between them overbearing. They could go again but he doesn’t want to move just yet. It feels good to be inside her like this; a promise of more gratification sitting snugly between them.

His nose drags up the length of her neck, and he buries his face in Clara’s hair, inhaling deeply. She’s wearing his favourite perfume tonight. Something warm and deep with jasmines blooming in his lungs. If it were her, she would go on a whole monologue, breaking each chemical ingredient down and every scent used in creating it.

He likes her distracted, mind-boggling dialogues. Then nearly scoffs at the mere thought. Since when? Since when does he give a shit about something like that? It serves no purpose to him and he doesn’t waste time on things that don’t.

Because it’s her, comes the sinking realization, because she says these things, so they matter.

Merde.

He tenses when her hand settles on top of his, pushing once, harder. Another soft sigh leaves her while Jean doesn’t bother biting back his groan of appreciation at the flare of fierce hot pleasure.

Clara’s mesmeric expression arrests something inside of him when he spots it. For a second, his vision blurs and the black dress drips into white, and she wears that same peaceful expression as she sinks into a river and doesn’t resurface. A dream that haunts him near-nightly now.

He blinks and then he’s back in the bathroom, his arms still around her. She’s here, with him, and his grip constricts further. He can make it work. He’ll find a way.

When has he ever compromised?

She means nothing, he tries to convince himself once again now that he’s back from his high.

But as he peers her—tiniest of smiles on her face, her freckles a roadmap for him to re-examine, loose strands of dark hair framing her flushed cheeks—a voice scratches itself from deep inside his chest.

A voice he hasn't heard in years, not since he called somewhere earthier and greener his home.

Liar.

an: head empty, just them. I could go on about them for five calendar months but hope you all enjoyed this little peek inside his head. ASE does contain Jean's pov so you'll def be seeing/learning more about him outside of just smut dfjhgdfg

[thekingsofitall]

The Lion in Winter 

So I watched it; and I can only describe this glorious battle of acting royals in horse-racing terms: for the first hour she has him fallen two or three lengths behind, but then he gains up on her and they finish neck-to-neck. I know, a widely held opinion is that she wins - well, probably, but it sort of depends on from what side of the track you're looking at it. She is herself in her highest form, The Great Kate in all her power and glory; and he is... someone else entirely. Like in "The Murphy's War" three years later, he creates a new person from scratch, nothing that you already know and can recognize is there. "He can do anything," she said later, and it's the truth.

As for the kids who have the honor of being a backdrop for these two colossuses, some of them definitely put up a fight. Anthony Hopkins as Richard is great and strong, even if he isn't given quite enough space to shine, he makes the most with what he has. John Castle is praised for his portrayal of devious Geoffrey, but it seems to me something is missing; I undestand his poker face is the essence of his MO, but it would be nice to see a brief outburst of all the bottled up rage. Nigel Terry plays John masterfully, but the character itself is somewhat restricting - a dumb schmuck who has only two reactions on everything, childish resentment or piteous fear, and it gets old pretty quickly. Jane Merrow as Alais is actually very good once or twice, but I see a lot of missed opportunities, and I wonder if it was her own timidity or he was directed to be this way (that would be unfair, surely). And - the best for the last - young Timothy Dalton as Philip II is nothing short of amazing, I didn't even think he could ever be this good. His character has it all - looks, wit, guile and vigour, and in some other story he'd make a fantastic villain that you would just love to hate.

Of course, it’s an adaptation of a brilliantly written play, and I can’t help but wonder how does this story unfold when performed by other actors. I mean, all the characters (except for Alais) are such awfully terrible people that you would be totally disgusted and depressed if it wasn’t for Hepburn, O’Toole and the others, really - they make you see human beings in those ugly rotten monsters. All in all, this movie has much more to do with theatre than with cinema, and that's exactly what makes it so great. 

[sirikenobi12]

Wild Space Review - a bad character study

So, I’ve been re-reading “Wild Space” by Karen Miller to use as source material for a new fic that I’m writing and I’m being reminded how much this book really just pisses me off. 

Like, it’s so close to being a really amazing Star Wars book that it’s super frustrating. 

***Spoilers Below***

I enjoy the plot overall, the way she uses the Darkside is super unique and I just love it. The idea that a Sith planet is basically used as a weapon against the Jedi and destroys them not just physically but also mentally (and in the Force), but that non Force users are fine - that is so incredibly interesting!! Not to mention the way she weaves the canon timeline into her story is also masterfully done. And the tension and drama is very well written. 

But, her take on the characters leaves MUCH to be desired in my opinion. I just can hardly get through reading it a second time because of it. Her Padme and frankly her Obi-Wan are honestly the worst. Don’t get me wrong they have moments where the characters we know and love do show up, but overall she just seems to completely misunderstand both of them (especially Padme) and REALLY misses the mark when it comes to their relationship/friendship. 

Padme: Through much of this story she is nothing but a love sick puppy who is whiney and obstinate in the most annoying fashion. She doesn’t seem to have the level head on her shoulders that we normally see with this character. Yes, we see that obviously she has a blind spot and makes poor decisions when it comes to being with Anakin in both the movies and TCW (I mean she kissed him after the sand line...come on girl), but in this book she is just insufferable!! 

She has immature and snide thoughts that rival Anakin’s about Obi-Wan and the Jedi Order throughout the entire thing and I just don’t see her character being this way. 

Obi-Wan comes to her at the beginning of the book to discuss her and Anakin’s behavior on Geonosis and to hopefully talk some sense into her regarding their doomed relationship - makes sense, she is the more mature and reasonable one between her and Anakin, but that is just not what happens in this scene. She is cold, she is like a child who resents her father telling her what to do. She is just obnoxious in this scene and incredibly unreasonable (very out of character). She then decides instead of talking to Anakin about it or coming to the realization that maybe this relationship isn’t a good idea she basically yells at Obi-Wan and then decides to lie to him. The lack of respect she holds for him in this scene is very contrary to the woman who maybe a day prior said “Well, I’m going to go help Obi-Wan...” 

Not to mention she basically uses the fact that Anakin’s mother died and Obi-Wan had no idea as a weapon against him...low blow Padme.

I feel like once the dust settled on Geonosis she would’ve struggled with their rushed marriage. She also so obviously cares for the Jedi Order, and specifically Obi-Wan (and Yoda for that matter) as a friend and we don’t see that reflected in this book much at all.

It isn’t until later in the book that we finally get a glimpse of the strong Senator who loved the Republic and the people more than just about anything (including Anakin) - I guess if you actually believe she died of a broken heart then the version of her character in this book makes sense...I guess.

Obi-Wan: While not as insufferable in my opinion in this book as Padme, he’s still through a good chunk of it out of character. Though Karen Miller does nail his tendency to injure himself only to claim he’s “fine” and his self-sacrificing ways, as well as his concern/love for Anakin, she does beat a dead horse when it comes to his view on politicians. What was just a simple line in ATOC “She’s a politician and they’re not to be trusted” became the main source of conflict for him throughout so much of this book when it came to his interactions with Bail Organa, so much so that it got pretty cartoonish and circular. 

A lot of my issues with Obi-Wan in this book stem from the usual misunderstanding that the Jedi are not allowed to have feelings/emotions and coupled with Obi-Wan’s need to prove himself (which that is very much in character, I’ll give her that) he comes across as basically what Anakin accuses him of being in ATOC - he’s overly critical, he’s emotionless, he’s intimidating and aloof. And Anakin’s bitching about his mentor aside I really have not seen any evidence throughout canon to make me believe that Obi-Wan would be like this. 

His first scene with Bail in this book is just baffling to me, the way he reacts is not at all the polished Negotiator nor the charismatic man everyone seems to have a soft spot for (even the villains). 

And then once he has been working with Bail for awhile they keep coming back to this conflict - he goes back to mistrusting him simply because Bail’s a politician and so then Bail feels attacked so he thinks the Jedi are these unfeeling monsters and starts questioning if they really do “steal babies”. Now, I can somewhat forgive this getting heated when they are on Zigoola because the planet is basically using the darkside to destroy Obi-Wan, but as a reader it just feels played out before they even make it to Zigoola and that makes it seem rather lazy. Obi-Wan has faced so much trauma all throughout his life, the author couldn’t come up with something else to cause him to fight Bail on getting out of there?  

The fact that he kept digging in his heels, not trusting Bail (for no real reason), not telling him what was happening even though two pages prior they had come to a mutual understanding feels like Karen Miller just needed more pages to fill and just didn’t know what else to do with them so she went back to the ‘Obi-Wan doesn’t trust politicians’ well. 

It took me out of the moment because it felt so out of place and out of character. 

I really, really want to love this book, it has a lot going for it. But I find it so difficult for me to get behind her take on these characters that I already know and love.  

Did anyone else feel this way reading this book?? I haven’t read any of her other Clone Wars books yet and now I’m debating if I should actually read them or if they’ll make me equally annoyed.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

The Leithian Reread - Canto IX (Lúthien Defeats Sauron)

The first thing to remember for this canto is that Finrod and Beren have been imprisoned in Tol-in-Gaurhoth for a long time. For a long while I had the impression of them being there for maybe a couple weeks, and a wolf eating one of the companions every day or so. But it’s been much longer than that:

First, they were already captive when Lúthien asked Melian about what was happening to Beren. Then there’s any days before she told Daeron about her plan to go rescue Beren, and then all the time she was imprisoned in Hirilorn, including spinning and weaving her hair into the cloak. Then any time travelling until when she met Celegorm and Curufin, then the (deliverately slow) journey to Nargothrond, and then her imprisonment in Nargothrond. Moreover, Lúthien goes in Melian to ask about Beren at the start of autumn (“the summer turns...”), and at the start of the canto after this one, after she’s rescued Beren, it’s winter already. So Beren and Finrod were most likely captive in Tol-in-Gaurhoth for the better part of three months. That is a long, and very impressive, amount of time to hold out against Sauron.

So when Beren is thinking of giving in to save Finrod, and Finrod makes the mistake (in dissuading Beren from this course of action via the obvious point that there’s no way either of them are getting out alive) of saying his and Beren’s names aloud and being overheard by Sauron, it is probable that neuther of them are in a particularly lucid or rational frame of mind. They’re very close to the breaking point by now. (This is something else I only caught onto when it was pointed out by The Leithian Script.) Fortunately - and it can be attributed to nothing other than fortune, or Providence - Finrod does not state their goal outright when he states their names, or the Quest would likely have been doomed:

Nay more, I think

yet deeper of torment we should drink,

knew he that son of Barahir

and Felagund were captive here,

and even worse if he should know

the dreadful errand we did go.

Sauron shows surprisingly little interest in the fact that he’s captured Beren (‘Twere little loss if he were dead, the outlaw mortal) given that he’s the one Beren was fighting in Dorthonion/Taur-nu-Fuin and given that Beren has a price on his head the same level as the High King of the Noldor. But Beren’s guerilla career ended at least a year ago, and maybe the bounty has lapsed; or maybe he’s distracted by the greater prize. When Sauron speaks of inducing Nargothrond to ransom Felagund, he is probably thinking of similarly draconian terms to the ones he will offer to Gandalf at the Black Gate two Ages later.

And here we get the battle between Finrod and the werewolf (which is not, as memetically, him ‘biting a werewolf to death’, but throttling it; though the Silmarillion says “slew it with his hands and teeth”, so there’s some flexibility):

Lo! sudden there was rending sound

of chains that parted and unwound,

of meshes broken. Forth there leaped

upon the wolvish thing that crept

in shadow faithful Felagund,

careless of fang or venomed wound.

There in the dark they wrestled slow,

remorsely, snarling, to and fro,

teeth in flesh, gripe on throat,

fingers locked in shaggy coat.

And what kills Finrod isn’t only the wolf itself, but also the sheer power it takes to break the chains; it’s beyond his normal physical ability (even prior to being imprisoned and tortured for three months):

Here all my power I have spent

to break my bonds, and dreadful rent

of poisoned teeth is in my breast.

And I’m going to quote this next bit, even though I’ve quoted a fair bit already, because the transition from dark to light imagery, and the way the word choice, not just the meaning of the words but their sound communicates that, is exceptional:

Silences profounder than the tomb

of long-forgotten kings, neath years

and sands uncounted laid on biers

and buried everlasting-deep,

slow and unbroken round him creep.

The silences were sudden shivered

to silver fragments. Faint there quivered

a voice in sound that walls of rock,

enchanted hill, and bar and lock,

and powers of darkness pierced with light.

Note all the deep o and u sounds in the fist half - profound, tomb, long-forgotten, buried, slow, unbroken - and contrast with shivered to silver fragments. This is more than description, this is the sounds of the Lay outright creating the phenomenon that they describe. Remember Tolkien’s intense interest in how words sound even irrespective of meaning (‘cellar door is the most beautiful word in the English language’) - here he’s masterfully chosen words where both the meaning and the phonetics are in accord to create the dramatic transition from dark and silence to light and music. And The silences were sudden shivered to silver fragments is such a marvellous line in and of itself.

And Lúthien’s song spiritually transports Beren - a night of stars, nightingales, piping, and Lúthien dancing - a memory of the night they met. And this gives him back the strength to sing and to defy: old songs of battle in the North, of breathless deeds, of marching forth to dare uncounted odds and break great powers and towers, and strong walls shake; and over all the silver fire that once men named the Burning Briar, the Seven Stars that Varda set about the north, were burning yet, a light in darkness, hope in woe, the emblem vast of Morgoth’s foe.

This is the moment that Sam is thinking of in the Tower of Cirirth Ungol, when he sings and Frodo answers. They’d just been talking about Beren and the Great Jewel, on the steps of Cirith Ungol, and even the imagery is similar: nature, the stars, birdsong (though Sam goes for the homier finches rather than nightengales). And defiance even in a seemingly hopeless situation.

Sauron, like many others in thus story, underestimates Lúthien and is more amused and pleased than intimidated. When he finally realizes that Huan is killimg all his werewolves, he decides to manipulate prophecy and make himself into the most powerful wolf that has ever existed. Possible even more powerful than a pre-Silmaril Carcharoth, since the text says as wolf more great than e’er was seen from Angband’s gate to the burning south. Lúthien, nearly fainting from the wolf’s poisonous breath, uses her cloak and a whispered spell to throw it off balance, and Huan defeats it in a fight and keeps his grip on its throat even as Sauron shapeshifts.

And here’s the interesting bit. Sauron is almost about to abandon his physical form (nigh the foul spirit...shuddering strayed from its dark house) when Lúthien gets up and threatens him with precisely what he was already going to do. And she makes the threat of Morgoth’s reaction intimidating enough that he changes his mind, hands over they keys, and gives her the spell to destroy the fortress. Which, one would think, would be something Morgoth would be even less pleased with. This raises the question, for me, of whether Sauron ever went back to Angband (especially given that his failure to provide his master with prompt intel led to a humiliating defeat and the loss of a Silmaril) or whether he just spent the rest of the war hiding out in Taur-nu-Fuin. If so, it certainly adds some context to why he’d consider surrendering to Eonwë after the War of Wrath - even the times when Angband’s power was at its height wouldn’t have been very good ones for Sauron.

Lúthien casts down Tol-in-Gaurhoth and frees its captives, and then seeks Beren, who is so absorbed in mourning Finrod that he apparently doesn’t look up even when an entire fortress collapses around him. At this point, he would still recall Lúthien’s song and his own as something that happened in a dream, not reality. He finally looks up and sees her, and they are reunited in the pits of Tol-in-Gaurhoth.

If you want some fanfiction of this canto, Philosopher at Large, author of the Leithian Script, has also written some prose pieces. Betrayals, Renunciations covers the final days of Beren and Finrod in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, from the beginning of this chapter; Shadow and Silver covers the confrontation between Lúthien and Sauron, the destruction of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the reunion, and the aftermath.

[bl-garbage]

coming out, like in the movies.

There are far too many reasons, wide-ranging and on varied degrees, for why coming out is That One Thing all queer people share in suffering. Yet, in the end, all of these boil down to that one overarching fear: that society will reject us. 

Those who soften the blows of this reality will hold our hands, like Anna does (I love her so much, I fucking do), or will offer a safe space and let us cry it all out, like Ate Judit does. Others simply know and will let us come out of our own accord, like Tito Santi does. 

These are warm instances of comfort, but ultimately they are mere consolations to help us come to terms with our mad realization that we had been ‘different’ all along. That we were unnatural. Sinful. A fraud. A phase. An illness. A mistake. An abomination. A wrong. The elements of horror that society has instilled upon us cast a looming shadow, that which would follow us even as we try our damned hardest to step out into the light. The truly laudable thing about Gaya sa Pelikula is how the show willingly offers an opportunity for introspection, a clearance for one to delve into the trajectory of their own stories.

I myself have never come out. Imagine that. A hundred gay-themed movies, one massive crush on Chris Evans, and a desire to be TayNew’s personal bodyguard later, and I still have not said the word out loud. I know because I keep track. My friends know I like boys, and I have never hidden it to those that truly matter, but the reality is that I have never admitted it either. For good measure, I would often create buffers, perhaps in an attempt to make things more palatable: I talk about boys, in all their chiseled glory, but from time to time I make sure to let someone hear, whoever has an ear, that I too had been in love with a girl ‘back then, when I was a teen, back in high school, I guess’ - which is true anyway. I will not discount that experience. But then here comes the shameful part: ‘So maybe I’m not totally gay,’ I would rationalize. ‘And why not? I could very well be bisexual.’ Or perhaps fluid. Or perhaps I was simply too afraid of a label.

Back then, I had probably already guessed this One Thing about myself, but perhaps as a defense mechanism, I had subconsciously ignored it. To friends now, my official story is that I had been in love with a girl - had expressed so myself and had written things about her and had bought her gifts - but then, eventually realized that I was also capable of liking a boy. This narrative is only partly true. What I leave out is the very real possibility that liking a girl could have very well only been part of this overall journey, one that had just been all too complex to understand for my nascent, horrified self. I was only what, 15, when I was first confronted with the reality that loving a boy was possible. 

(One day I had found myself walking with a boy and realized butterflies had been swarming in my stomach. One day I was much too filled with a desire to message him that maybe things were feeling different. One day my mom caught me with that very message, saved as a draft on the phone, and my desperation may have betrayed my concocted excuse that it was just a joke, mommy, really. Didn’t matter what I said; it was what she said that had stuck with me anyway: In tones of pleas, she said, son, please, don’t. One day my mother and I agreed never to talk about it, but I knew better. There was no joke about all this: not what I felt for that one boy, but what I felt within myself. And a more brutal reality: That there was no way in hell my mother would ever except my truth.) 

I had no one to help me understand. Things did not look the way they were over half a decade ago. Liking a boy seemed so wrong. 

Which is why, I know exactly what Karl felt. Vlad had asked him, “Ano ka (What are you)?” and immediately told Karl that he should not be scared of the word. But the truth is, gay is a scary word. As much as we hate to admit it, being gay means being shunned, facing the worst of the world without any armor. It feels as though walking bare naked, unsheltered, with simple questions otherwise borne out of genuine concern feeling like sharp daggers thrown from all directions. 

Things like these, one does not really get used to. They’re not ones that are suddenly okay, just because another person professes that they accept us. The bravest souls in the community will attest that they, too, fight to have the courage every single day. I recall the coming out video of Dan Howell, who had so perfectly articulated why the word ‘gay’ feels so uncomfortable. To me, ironically, the word seems like a label that, once uttered, would permanently seal me in a box, devoid of any guarantee of an out. What if things changed and I suddenly found myself liking a girl (though I doubt that anymore)? The answer to this is one I already know: that only I hold this decision. Would society then, as I have been so predisposed to believe, think that I had lied, that I had failed to be honest? Even when the honest truth of it all is that doubt and fear are two sides of one coin? To my mind, the word ‘gay’ already seems like a conclusion, and henceforth any acts that I do, the word would hinge itself. What if there’s no eject button? That is the truly horrifying thing.

This is an experience all too common, which is why it resonated with every viewer. Similarly, the experience comes with more aggravating instances: Throughout the whole episode, there was the atmosphere of great unrest, which we all know had been a directorial intention. From the cold open, we are shown a slow motion that signifies how overly conscious Karl was to everything; we are shown the way Karl’s voice had been muted when he was trying to talk to Tito Santi; we are shown just how problems are kept hidden and in secret, as when Ate Judit and Tito Santi were talking over them and Karl just being quiet, silenced, until it was he who had been put on the hot seat, ever so suddenly. 

These people who are supposed to be allies have talked over Karl, drowning out his voice. Only at their own signal did they let Karl talk, and by then, it was to answer the question Karl had dreaded all along. We know they want the best for the boys, but this is important to note just the same: No one must be forced out of the closet. It will only harbor more pains. As expected, this unsettling atmosphere has paved the way for the confrontation we had long known was coming. 

The heartbreaking part is that Vlad understands, so much so that he has been patient. Karl needs to find his own self, just like Vlad did. Just like everyone does. The montage of their own perfect life, lived in a large box that is their apartment, was but a sweet escape, and Vlad knows that. This was their shelter from harm. But a time must come when this has to end and they must come out. What has happened there so far - the dance, the hugs, the kisses, and all the memories - it was all real, but it was also hidden. And if one of you denies it happened, how would you trust your own truth? Vlad had taken the lead, because he had the pass to come in and out of this large box, sharing this precious space with Karl. Yet, it was understandable that Vlad had also been itching to help Karl come out on his own. To Karl, that is the most terrifying thing. When he said, we’re okay, Vlad, okay? he was desperately looking for normalcy, to abort this mission and go back and just - just stop. 

Vlad has been through that, and was all over it. No longer.

Neither of them is to blame. On one hand, you own your truth; and on the other, you can never force one to live a lie and go back into the closet, just so that they may be at your own pace. 

The bold truth about Gaya sa Pelikula’s penultimate episode is this: Neither Karl nor Vlad is wrong. It is they who have been wronged. By a society that has forced each one of us to hide, to man up, to woman up, to believe that the only way of seeing people was on the basis of what's between their legs and not what 's inside their heads. And Ate Judit, Anna, or Tito Santi may try their best, but they can do no more than to assuage the horror that comes with living your own truth.

I cannot stress enough how important shows like Gaya sa Pelikula are. For those who are only in the first laps of this journey of coming out, it can be their console. To me, this is a way of understanding why things came out the way they were. To others, this is a welcome respite. An embrace.

This is the magnificence of Juan Miguel Severo’s love letter to the LGBTQI+ community. This was just masterfully done. I find comfort in Vlad’s own love letter to Karl. I’ll bid goodbye for now, go into a corner of this box, and mull over the choices I've made thus far. (Reader, to be honest: I’m now writing this in my dormitory, in my own box I suppose. For the past six episodes I had been watching the show at home, but now I had to stay in the dorms. I guess, this was fate, too, to help me process my own feelings, alone.) Anyway, for those who have not seen it:

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God, I am just overwhelmed with emotions. Just gonna cry now.

[shidoukanae]

YGO! Questionnaire

Tagged by @cipher-wise​

Favorite series:

My favorite series based on what I watched and enjoyed would have to be Arc-V!!! It's honestly the series that got me to adore YGO when previously I'd seen YGO as, and I chilidishly quote, "uncool". Everything about Arc-V is pretty much wonderful: Yuya's presence as a "everyone MUST be happy" kind of character in a plot that discusses themes of war, revenge, and despair is absolutely refreshing (especially when Yuya's ideals of happiness are stripped from him and made a mockery of by, *coughs* one of my favorite characters in the franchise *coughs*). 

I love how the four Yuu boys are a wonderful combination of "protagonists" (/anatagonists) and how they each play off of each other's weaknesses and strengths, often acting as mirrors to each other in their individual dimensions while having amazing interactions (Yugo and Yuri, anyone? Yuri and Yuya?).

I admire how the endgame plot is a perversion of Yuya's ideals: he gets what he wants, showering happiness upon all, but that "happiness" is corrupted into the notion of entertainment. While Yuya seeks to provide people with smiles and laughter, to give them hope to work together through tough times and to stay strong in the face of adversity, his "counterparts" in the endgame are really good at acting as Yuya's mirror: showing that his style of performing can also be used to appease the bloodthirst of one's own self and that happiness can be corrupted into self-deserving power.

...Hard to put that into exact words without spoiling a lot of things but, gosh, let's just say that Yuri and ____ are the perfect mirrors to Yuya in terms of what his entertainment dueling style is meant to be.

The plot over all is pretty good! I won't lie and say it stands strong all the way throughout the story but the first half is amazing and there are some pretty strong episodes in the second half (Yugo and Rin, the parasite episodes in general, Yuri Yuri YURI). I can definitely say that the humor is there, the characters are amazing (if nothing else, watch for the Yuu Boys, the Bracelet Gals, and Shun versus Sora!!) and having come into the show around episode 104, I was pleasantly surprised by the trip Arc-V brought me and how it played with its protagonist, giving him hope, kicking him down, and toying with his mind - just like the way a warzone might to any idealistic individual.

In terms of other series, I like VRAINS but only up to like episode 19 (or the end of the Data Bank arc). It had potential and I kept hoping it would get better but the plot was constantly floundering, there are plot holes abundant (sewer monsters, ugh), character development is inconsistent not to mention very shallow, VRAINS has some of the best side characters but they're kicked to the curb by a bland protagonist and a villain that could've been so much cooler but they made him a sympathetic mess.

...I have a lot of gripes with VRAINS but, if it were to ever be rewritten with clear goalposts and plot twists in mind (not to mention development on ideas like Charisma Duelists because at the end of the show I still have not a fucking clue what a Charisma Duelists is or was) I would say it has potential to become my favorite series but Arc-V clearly beats it for me in every category lmao.

Zexal’s also really good too!!! I don’t get all the hate behind it because it’s actually really interesting and engaging (also IV’s definition of fanservice is literally the only type of fanservice I will ever accept) and I think I’ve even cried a couple of times during the course of the plot which is like,,, shocking considering it’s not a show I thought I’d cry over (I cried in Arc-V too but goddamn does tiny Yuya just want to make you tear up lmao). This show is really good emotionally and it’s literally so stupid how Kaito carries a lot of the early and middle game of the show yet most of the meat of the plot doesn’t begin to unravel until the second season.

Also, if you ever want to watch a show of 100+ episodes that is so masterfully written that there is foreshadowing for stuff in like episode 130+ on EPISODE ONE, please watch this. Literally there are so many hints of what is going to happen in the future in the early episodes and you won’t really be able to tell what those hints are until you’ve finished the show but goddamn when you go back and rewatch things it does indeed feel amazing how much foreshadowing they threaded into the show without you ever knowing...(please don’t search for spoilers if you intend to watch this. I went into the show knowing some spoilers tho not all and, while I was still pleased by what I watched, I honestly can agree the show is A Lot Better without knowing ANYTHING)

Favorite Protagonist: Yuya. For sure, out of all the series, Yuya. 

He’s a refreshing protagonist, especially considering he shines in a world of war and despair. He’s also someone who you empathize with right at the start and want to hope in, especially since he is the “happiness” in a word of “madness” and “sorrow”. He’s not someone out to save the world (not really, anyways), but his actions touch on the lives of others anyways, giving people in a hope in a world that is otherwise cruel and heartless. Also, it really helps that he’s able to pull you into his world of “egaos”, making you believe in him and root for him despite how cheesy his ideals may or may not sound.

Also love how, despite being the centerpiece of “happiness”, Yuya isn’t allowed to always be happy :> Not spoiling plot related things but if you like protagonists going off the rails insane at times, Yuya’s definitely a fun protagonist for that!!!

Favorite Rival:

Kaito Tenjou!!! Literally the best rival in the series that I’ve seen. Everything about him is literally perfect ngl. From the way he’s chillingly introduced, with the spine-tingling whistles and cruel, almost merciless nature, to the way he slowly becomes sympathetic while also remaining a terrifying presence whenever he appears...I love him????

Favorite BFF:

Does Shoichi count? Because like...he’s Yusaku’s closest friend and ally in the series and I generally don’t pay attention to the other BFF’s in the other series (or at least, the ones I can recall bc I know in Zexal that Yuma has a whole group of friends lmao).

But I like Shoichi!! He cares about Yusaku a lot, is pretty damn cool as a sidekick hacker, his sideplot with his brother was actually honestly endearing and I loved the mystery about him. His early-game jokes w/ Ai to tease Yusaku were also a good laugh.

Favorite GFF: 

Not a girl friend forever for the main protagonist (although she like...lowkey confessed to him...though that plot really never went anywhere so I still don’t know what the fuck THAT was about) but,,, Ema Bessho,,

If y’all knew me back in my peak YGO days when VRAINS was airing,,, this gal was and STILL is my favorite girl of the YGO series. Even though she was pretty much done dirty imo I still love her (even despite considering she’s been made a damsel-in-distress at least three times, she’s only ever won one duel on-screen despite being supposedly good at dueling, ngl they could’ve done so much more with her but tbh she’s mostly just an asset to solve problems at whim and barely gets character development/does nothing but watch and spectate stuff late-game).

Even though she’s like...the unfortunate side character who’s probably meant to be more fanservice than interesting, in the first 19 episodes (and even the Revolver vs. her fight as well as the one time she meets Aoi IRL early-game) made her out to be a lot cooler and complex than she ended up being. I mean,,, a hacker gal who’s self-serving, cynical, and cold-hearted taking on the tasks of her (potentially ex) boyfriend while being really nice to his sister to the point she baffles even herself,,, we could’ve had a really unique and cool character to play around with here but instead we got...cool-ass character with potential to be something more reduced to a spectator with nothing better to do than idolize the main protagonist and have a plot with her brother that honestly detracted from her character more than it added to it imo.

Also Ema could’ve been a female Yuri but,,, nope,,, they decided she was better as a background piece instead TwT

Favorite Villain: Yuri.

Literally Yuri.

I could choose the leather jacket w/ fluff boi in a certain series because hot damn was that guy convincing AF that he wasn’t an evil psychopath (and even while knowing that he was, I still got fooled into thinking he was a good guy somehow omg) however,,, I’ve always held a love for Yuri and the way he’s been portrayed.

Despite ALWAYS being the bad guy, the show has always made this purple fucker into the most entertaining character on-screen. He even beats Yuya sometimes in terms of how entertaining he is - that’s literally how good he is,,

Also his facial expressions are amazing, he’s a VERY VALID threat to the main cast (and his creeper levels are not only off the charts but literally called out by the main female protagonist herself lmao), and he acts as the perfect foil to Yuya, battling not to entertain others but to entertain himself.

Also, he likes killing people.

No this is not a joke.

He literally likes killing people. And is pretty sadistic about it, too.

(^^^^ for those who don’t get the joke, “Fusion” is pronounced “Yuugo” which sounds similar to “Yugo” which is what,,, Yuri is making fun of,,, more context is needed of course but this is a Great Running Gag)

Favorite card:

I don’t know if it actually exists as an actual card but...that crystal dragon from the YGO movie with the glass pyramid. Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon...it’s really pretty...I love it...

Favorite Episode:

I’m...too lazy to search for names of these episodes but I can give brief summaries of them,,, because I can’t choose,,,

Arc-V: Shun vs. Sora (ALL episodes). Hot damn if you have never watched YGO but want to try and see for yourself why people like it: WATCH THESE EPISODES. I can’t explain how amazing these episodes are and, while I admit jumping straight into them might have you missing out on some important context (such as who Shun is or why Sora’s battle tactics lead to revelation) it’s honestly an amazing fight regardless. The battle starts off plain enough - there’s obvious tension, it seems like a typical fight of a battle royale, etc. - my god does the battle ramp up in emotional tension and promptly kick you in the gut with not only how blindsided you’ve been, but it also showcases just how cruel these “entertainment duels” can really get.

Any episode with Yuri. Literally any episode he’s in. 

I think this is like...episode 8 of VRAINS...but whenever it is that Akira hires Ema to find the reason why Aoi just...straight up got knocked into a coma. Literally this is my favorite episode when it comes to Ema. The way she makes fun of Akira even while aware of his situation,,, her cruel selfishness and desire for money bubbling to the surface, the way she confesses how she can’t be trusted willingly and still asks Akira why he’s hiring her,,, god I love this episode in terms of what Ema could’ve always been.

Episode 13 (/14?) of Zexal!!! This is the episode Kaito appears and when the show REALLY picks up. Kaito is a fun bastard of a rival and tbh I don’t think I’ll ever stop getting chills of him walking in, debris frozen in time all around him, as he approaches his victim, whistling an eerie children’s tune as he gets ready to close in for the kill,,,,

Favorite Deck to Use:

I don’t...really play the game itself but...I have used a couple of decks and I guess you can say I really love Raid Raptors??? First of all, those warbirds make really fun sounds I love ‘em in the anime but they’re also just fun to use in general (even tho I used a,,, very basic deck for them,,, I love them still).

Fusion, Ritual, Synchro, XYZ, Pendulum or Link:

XYZ bc it’s really the only summoning method I’m used to lol :P. Also XYZ loyalist I guess???? 

Years in fandom: roughly five to six years iirc? I mean, I was a fan of the early day YGO and watched it as a kid but not active enough to be in the fandom for it lmao. Also not in the fandom atm because Sevens lost my attention (it’s a good show!!! I’m just unfortunately more a fan of things with serious plots and darker themes and it’s hard for me to stomach slice-of-life shows that don’t focus on a mature and engaging plot). However, Arc-V and Zexal holds a special place in my heart (as does VRAINS, begrudgingly) and so I occasionally find myself wandering back to these shows like right now,,, 

[darksunrising]

Sola Gratia (8/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : General audiences, no particular warnings.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 8/? (2033 words)

Author’s notes : A bit shorter, but big one coming up next !

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

As soon as I dismissed the class, chatter started filling the small auditorium, along with chairs dragging to the wooden floors. The sun was almost set, and everyone, including me, was exhausted, and so the room emptied itself fast. Vlad, who sat at the back during the whole day, went down the stairs and joined me at my desk, a coy little smirk on the corner of his lips.

“Well, what did the expert think ?”, I asked as I started putting away my stuff.

“A few kinks to work out here and there, but overall, not too bad”, he commented, leaning back against the blackboard. “However…” He raised an eyebrow. “I see you snaked around a certain historical figure. An important one, if I do say so myself.”

I groaned. “It didn’t mention what didn’t need mentioning in this class.”

“You know, and not to be a narcissist, but there is a good chance half of your students took that class hoping to learn about the Infamous Impaler”, he commented.

He looked so smug. If I didn’t know what he was, he could just have been a nerd way too much into role-play. With great fashion tastes, and nice hair. Anyway.

“Actually, I did promise them last semester that we would do a class on that subject”, I told him, turning to face him, sitting back on my desk. “Then, I took a holiday, which somehow had me change my mind.”

He winced, and took the sorriest puppy-dog face I had ever seen in my entire existence. For crying out loud. “Don’t play victim with me, jerk”, I grumbled.

“Why, is it working ?”, he teased.

Before I could reply anything witty, I was interrupted by a voice timidly calling out my name. A pale, tired-looking student was waiting awkwardly at the foot of the podium, expectantly looking up at me. I had no idea who he was, which was a bit frustrating, as I always paid attention to that sort of thing.

“Do you have any questions about the lecture ?”, I asked him, inviting him to step closer. “Remind me your name, I'm sorry, I can't seem to place you...”

“Stephan Helder”, he told me with a little smile. “I just transferred here.”

Well, at least, it made me feel a little bit better about the looming prospect of Alzheimer's disease. I vaguely did remember an e-mail from Laurent informing me I'd have a transfer student from London taking my course, but I didn't think it went further into detail.

“Do you want the notes for last semester’s courses ? I could e-mail them to you.”

“No, actually, I didn’t come here for that, I have something I’d like to ask you about”, he nervously told me, as his eyes kept darting to Vlad.

“That’s fine, go ahead !” I tried to give him a reassuring smile. “This is professor Balaur, from the University of Bucharest. He might be able to help too. He's very... Savvy on the subject of this class, to put it mildly.”

I gave a quick look towards him, to which he responded with a half-wink.

“I am thinking of doing my master’s degree here”, Helder began, seemingly a bit less tense. “I talked to professor Laurent Rasab, and he agreed to tutor it, but I would like to have your tutorage as well.”

I was taken aback for a moment. No student ever asked for my tutorage on anything, not even advice on the assignments I gave out. Which wasn't very wise, as I always offered, and always ended up correcting soul-sucking essays that made me want to retire before I even reached 25.

“I don’t know that I’m qualified for that”, I told him with a laugh.

“I’m very interested in your field of study”, he exclaimed. “I would like to study the real involvement of Vlad Tepes in the fight against the ottomans, maybe try to draw the line between fiction and reality, considering his reputation, even to this day. You’ve worked on the attack on Targoviste, right ?”

At least, the lad seemed motivated. Behind me, I could hear Vlad fighting off a fit of laughter, that he hid in a cough. I took a deep breath, turned my attention back on Helder.

“Listen, why don’t you send me an e-mail, and I’ll look at my schedule to fix an appointment ? I’ll get Laurent on it, and we’ll both discuss that with you.”

He nodded, thanked me, and bolted, not before a last, strangely intense look at Vlad. I waited until the door clicked behind him, and let out a long sigh.

“You will be the death of me, you know that ?”

He stepped closer to me, and moved my hair out of my shoulders. I shivered as his fingers ran through the whole length of the strands. “Not with that high a neckline, you can be sure of that.” As he stepped back, he let his knuckles slide down my spine, and denied all responsibility when I protested. Bastard. I put my laptop in my briefcase, and went to turn off the lights.

“By the way, when were you born ? Sources aren’t clear on the date”, I asked as we made our way to the exit.

“March 14th.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I was born the first time on march 14th, the Year of Our Lord 1430, amen.”, he dramatically declared, signing himself upside down.

“You are being childish, for a 590 year-old man.”

“That was fast math, I’m impressed.”

Couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic. I opted for a classic, and rolled my eyes at him.

“I was hoping to see that delightful girlfriend of yours, Leah, was it ?”, he told me as we walked through the mostly empty corridors of the old building.

I sighed. “Not my girlfriend. She's at work today, and believe me, I would rather have spent the day with her.”

“I will pretend I didn’t hear that”, he hissed, falsely offended.

I was starting to get used to his company. Without being so drastic as to enjoy it, his presence at my side didn’t seem so ominous anymore. During my lectures, he had been listening intently, nodding along when I was in the right. I don’t know if he even noticed he did. Before every pause, he somehow slipped out of the room, and came back right as I dismissed class with coffee, and a written list of every historical character I mentionned, commenting on their personality, or their quirks. The whole time, he spoke in a hushed voice, half in french, so that no one but me would hear or understand. As a french person myself, I had never thought having a foreign accent was as sexy as everyone seemed to believe, which is why I worked on mine constantly. However. When he spoke french, the way he rolled his ‘r’s, or pronounced some words, sent darts to my chest. I sometimes had to gather all the strength of my will to listen to what he actually said.

Lost in thought, I almost didn’t notice we were almost at his car. As usual, he opened the door for me. For once, I didn't debate him, and just got in.

I plugged my iPod into the radio, and set my ‘driving at night’ playlist, masterfully crafted over the years. Not necessarily sad, but definitely not upbeat. Vlad didn’t say anything, but I caught him mouthing the lyrics of the chorus, once he caught them. I nestled into my seat, letting my head press against the window. I watched the street lamps light up the raindrops on the glass as they rolled down. The whole ride was quiet on our parts, but it didn’t feel awkward, as it often does. When he stopped in front of my building, I stopped the music, and hesitated a second. Before I got out, I turned to Vlad.

“Five minutes, wait for me at my window.”

Not leaving him the time to reply, I got out, and through the front door. I don’t think I ever climbed my stairs so fast. Locking behind me, I hurried to feed the monster, already trying to climb my leg in outrage, and shut myself in my room. As I expected, he was waiting outside, on the fire escape stairs. I opened the window, kneeling on my bed. He sat on the windowsill, waiting for me to talk.

“If we are to continue this…” I tried to find the appropriate term.

“Relationship ?”, he proposed.

“If we are to continue this”, I rephrased, gesturing to put emphasis, “I have to make some things clear.” He nodded, and I took a deep breath. “First, we don’t tell Leah what you are. I don’t want that on her mind. Second, you don’t murder people. I just can’t go around being friends with someone who drinks humans like Capri-Suns every night.”

“How do you suggest I feed, then ?”, he asked. I didn’t think about that. He leaned closer, grinning. “Are you offering yourself in exchange ?”

Instinctively, I jerked myself back to the edge of my bed. He apologised. Squinting at him, I sat back where I was. A bit too soon for that sort of jokes.

“Can’t you ‘go vegan’ ?”, I asked, air-quoting. “Eat animals ?”

He sighed. “I could. It doesn’t do me well, to be honest.” He looked... embarrassed. “You saw it firsthand. The horse just made me hungrier. Less… controlled.” He took a pause. “I would rather murder some humans than put you at risk again.”

I felt a tiny pinch to my heart. Ah. “Does it hurt ?”, I asked, in the only tiny whisper that managed to get out of my throat.

He snapped his head toward me. “I beg your pardon ?”

“Does it hurt, when you feed ? The people you feed on, I mean”, I added, a bit louder, yet still coming out squeaky.

He seemed to take a moment to debate his answer, taking an inspiration, and deciding against it a couple of times. “It does not”, he finally breathed out. “It takes you away, where you want to be most.”

A beach, infinite. A dark sky and a setting sun. Soft waves, and golden sand.

“Can you at least promise you won’t kill anyone ?”

“Ah !” He sighed, seeming relieved, and a bit disappointed. He looked back at me, with a soft smile. “They will dream, and not remember, or feel a thing. I promise.”

I slowly nodded, and propped myself up on the windowsill, feet still safely on my bed. I looked up at him, and his expression softened ever so slightly. The moon and the lampposts cast a blue and orange light on his features, playing along the curves and sharp edges of his face.

“Is that all, dear ?”, he asked.

“Don’t call me ‘dear’”, I instantly retorted.

“Fine, darling.”

I groaned, throwing my head back as I heard his soft laughter. As I brought my head back down, it was to find his hand, curled under my chin. His thumb brushed lightly past my lip, almost by accident, to finish on my cheek. My heart stopped a second. He hummed, and placed a kiss on my forehead.

“Sleep well, Eris.”

I breathed in, but just like that, he was gone, leaving me to look out for a bat, quickly vanishing in the night sky.

Someone, close, was also looking out for the bat as it flew over the rooftops. A ray of moonlight caught a glimpse of silver hair, the frost of a blue eye. It couldn’t happen again. Not after the last disaster, and the one before that. The thin, long fingers clenched so hard into their palms, drops of red tricked down, slowly. Before any drop could be lost to the ground, a pale tongue took care of it.

The Council wouldn’t be pleased.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @my-fanfic-library

[kemonododo]

Decided to rewatch the whole series after seeing the finale, here's my thoughts as they come along part 2

This fight between Catra and Adora is where it all comes to a head. Adora begging Catra to follow her, Catra begging her to stay. Catra denying Adora the satisfaction of saving her, then pulling herself out of the portal as a corrupted monster. Adora seeing her true friends put their trust in her, then immediately see a horrific monster in the form of her love take their place. Catra lets everything out here, how she hates Adora's hero complex and how she blames Adora for everything. It's just so raw.

Of course, the best part is the punch. Adora is no longer going to take Catra's hate, she is done. In her own words, she made her choice and she has to live with it. That final death glare is everything. This is the lowest point Catradora will ever face, and it takes Catra proving that she is willing to change for Adora to see the good in her again.

Angella's sacrifice hits a lot harder now that we know she's dead for good, something about the "trapped between portals stuff" convinced me she wasn't when I first saw this. She died still believing her husband was dead, and the last true conversation she had with Glimmer was an argument. Hug your mom kids, you never know when you'll have that opportunity again.

This finale has a lot of parallels to the series finale, especially with Adora being convinced her destiny means she needs to be a martyr. That's Shadow Weaver talking through her, something we see in full force in season 5. While Angella here stops her from sacrificing herself, she still has that warped view of what her destiny is, and it takes Catra to finally show her the real way.

That spin is when I started shipping Glimbow.

This final speech by Queen Glimmer is another great example of how the show hides sinister meanings behind normal dialog. Any other show and we'd be cheering when Glimmer focuses on defeating the Horde, but we know the blind devotion to that goal has so many consequences in waiting.

Both Catra and Glimmer look great in their new clothes, it's a fantastic way to show how much they've grown.

The Valley of the Lost is another one of those great more episodic episodes, it's still connected to the whole story but we also get to take a little break and enjoy some a new local with a Star Wars feel with fun antics with Perfuma, Huntara, and Double Trouble. I wasn't sure about DT when I first heard about them, seemed too late to add a new major character, but they're an absolute blast and help give season 4 it's own identity.

Catra's nightmares are just the start of this season's take on her character, this is where we really dive into how unhappy her actions are making her.

Mayor of Elberon got the biggest glow up of the show

I love how, just, done Adora is with Catra. No more playful teasing, Adora is here to defeat Catra and save the town, nothing else.

Double Trouble is a really fun character, but I'll be the first to admit they aren't good representation. It's bad enough they're the "only nonhumans can be non-binary" architype, but also that they're a creepy masculine trans person who pretends to be a cute girl to get on people's good sides... Yikes. It's a genuine complaint, and one of those criticsms you just have to accept.

We finally get to see some character for Spinnerella and Netossa! They're relationship is one of the big keystones of the season 5 conflict, so it's really important that we had this episode to get to know their chemistry.

Oh Shadow Weaver, how I love you. She's decided Catra and Adora don't have anything left to give her anymore, so she's switched to the vulnerable and easily manipulated new orphaned queen. Glimmer's one track mind on defeating the Horde makes her an ideal target, and Shadow Weaver is again successful in bending a child to her will.

The Glimmer and Catra fight! Glimmer's arc parallels Catra's, especially in this season. Of course she never falls as far as Catra, but I do love that we get just a taste of how this war can sour even the cute sparkle girl.

This final moment with Catra and Double Trouble, amazing. Catra has been mowing through friends, she's already pushed away all the genuine ones, and she's realizing that it sucks to be with people who aren't.

Best way to set up a sympathetic villain, give them a girlfriend lol. Light Hope is tragic, her programming tells her to protect and serve She-Ra, but also to follow her directive. It's something that conflicts in her psyche, and is another strong-suit of this show and it's masterfully written villains.

Princess Scorpia is one of the best episode of the series. Sure the Glimmer drama is nice, but Scorpia... Wow. The remnant of genocide raised in the most toxic place on the planet is the most kind, loving, loyal person to have ever lived. And yet she still chooses to leave. Catra was her crush, someone she saw herself with and promised to be by forever, but even she knows when there isn't anything left she can do. It's a wonderful message and a fantastic episode for one of the best characters in the show.

Mer-Mysteries is actually really well crafted, up until this point all the funny joke episodes have been self contained, but here that's subverted. It's shocking to see Mermista joking around throughout the episode only for it to end with her in utter shock and fear at seeing her home destroyed. Plus the reveal of Double Trouble is great.

Neither Hordak nor Angella was fully invested in winning the war in the first two seasons. It's a good way to escalate tension, as now the Horde's victories make a lot of sense because Hordak is suddenly extremely motivated to win thanks to Horde Prime. It makes the war the first season made such a big deal out of seem paultry in comparison to the slaughter we see now.

I love Sea Hawk so much, he's genuinely funny and endearing.

Bow singing to himself may be one of the most depressing moments is the show. This whole arc of Glimmer and Adora falling out is mostly set-up for Glimmer's choice to activate the heart alone, but it's still really well done and something I really enjoy watching. Something about two friends blowing up at each other, ripping each other apart while the third is left in the ruins is just the angst I can't resist. Catra realizing winning the war isn't giving her the closure she craves and finding out about Scorpia leaving is also a perfect parallel.

Mara is revealed to be a hero all along, what Light Hope painted as a crazed lunatic turned out to be a woman who saved the universe from her own people. It's a beautiful message, and the emotional attachment we feel with her and Razz causes the tears to well up again for what feels like the hundredth time.

The three cadets are great this season, not only do they get some time to shine but they also show how Catra's tyrannical rule is hurting the soldiers beneath her.

I love the moment where Glimmer pulls out the queen card. It's culmination of her arc since the second season, she is finally letting her hatred of the Horde consume her. That shot, the slow piano as it zooms in on her backlit by the fire. Probably one of my favorite scenes in the entire show.

This episode is a monster on my heart, the juxtaposition of Scorpia finally finding the support and kindness she deserves while Catra is suffering the consequences of her own actions. That one shot, a Catra smiling at the news of winning the war only to zoom out at a destroyed room where she collapses on the floor choking on her own tears is a masterpiece.

Even Beast Island gets a glow up

Beast Island is beautifully Eldritch. A place that sucks away your fortitude and will until you're absorbed into it like a digesting stomach. The show does have a lot of moments where it really messes with the character's heads and I love it.

When the signal begins to take over, Bow feeling like he failed Glimmer, Micah realizing his wife is dead, Adora giving into her insecurities, Entrapta being overcome by the betrayal she's faced, all their eyes going gray and dead. It's emotional and terrifying, something this show excels at.

Shadow Weaver spends so much time manipulating children you'd think she'd have it down to a science, but it doesn't seem to ever work out for her in the end, does it?

Entrapta is a great character because every time she exposits she just sounds so enthusiastic, even when she's revealing terrifying truths, like how Adora's "noble destiny" is to exist as the universe's most dangerous gun.

I love how Double Trouble only had to tell Catra that She-Ra wasn't at Brightmoon, their scenes with Hordak and Catra was just for the drama. We got a great fight and Catra finally getting vibe checked, so I have to say DT well done. Their methods are cruel, but hearing someone say to her face that it's her fault people leave her, mixed with the dissatisfaction of winning while alone is the catalyst for Catra's redemption.

Light Hope is revealed to be the one who stole away Adora, the one who forced her destiny on her. Horde Prime may have been the final big bad, but Light Hope was the one responsible for everything. And Adora breaks the sword, ending her destiny as the First One's intended and saving Light Hope from her programming.

What an ominous ending! Hordak, the big bad from season 1, is left a squabbling mess defeated in seconds, and we are faced with a huge and terrifying new universe with seemingly no hope of going against. The stakes are the highest they've ever been, and even already knowing what happened it makes me excited for what comes next.

[xoruffitup]

Adam in Burn This (6/12)

I saw Burn This again on June 12th and HOO BOY, for this show I’ve got nothing but flail! I think I’ve already worked through most of my critical analyst urges already, so this is gonna be just pure, chaotic Adam fangirling. :’)

The man was robbed of his Tony. Pale is this character who I would absolutely hate on the page or in abstract. But then Adam, the utter jerk, barges and flails his way on stage and makes Pale so human and compelling and just absolutely riveting to watch that hating him becomes physically impossible. I mentioned before how the play functions to make the audience Anna’s proxy (down towards the end of the second section here), and never has that been truer than last night. I literally was Anna, okay. I was repelled and intimidated and scandalized by Pale’s uncontrollable, massive presence; his encroaching, searing physicality; his unpretentious, guileless anger and passions and frenetic creative energy.

One second, you’re watching this massive brickhouse tumble into crying, sniffling pieces so vulnerable and wrecked it could tear your heart out. The next he’s cracking a joke, flirting, cussing, and every single swing is so bracingly authentic that you’re literally pulled to the edge of your seat, unsure if in attraction or revulsion. Either way, you’re along for the wild ride with him every step of the way, feeling the same conflicted and unwilling compulsion towards him Anna is. Pale doesn’t just unwittingly seduce Anna; Adam absorbs every single audience member’s attention like a black hole and before you know it the audience is caring for him even before they have any hope of deciding whether they even like him. (Evidenced by the collective gasp of fear that rises from the audience when Pale, drunk, climbs outside onto a fire escape.) To call him magnetic, electric, a revelation to watch – They’re all woefully inadequate descriptions. He’s a literal inferno, blazing even when he’s silent.

So even though I have yet to reach a personal resolution on whether I accept Pale from an ethical perspective, I am nevertheless complete trash for him because Adam really leaves me no choice in the matter. Damn him. <3

Last night I sat in the upper balcony for the first time, but my friend brought binoculars we passed back and forth (lol, yes really) and I actually saw so many new, detailed nuances to Adam’s acting. I’ll go through the moments that really stood out – though it’s honestly hard to pick because he really is that Extra during the entire damn play.

Act 1

When he puts his leg up on the couch to show Anna how “fucked up” his pants are, then kind of realizes he’s standing there with his leg all weird up on the couch, asking her to look at his pants… Then just smoothly lifts his leg over the table before he lowers it, then makes the coyest face ever at her while he does this slow, deliberate twirl with the most shit-eating look on his face. The audience dies, then he cracks “I coulda been the dancer,” and the audience falls apart again.

The way you can feel his momentum and buzzing energy begin to darken, right before he breaks down completely. When he stops pacing around for the first time and his voice changes, going soft as the guilt and sorrow creeps up on him in the form of physical pain he feels driving straight through his heart. And it��s alarming, when he goes still for the first time.

I swear I’ve never seen him cry so much as last night. Once he broke down, the sniffling was constant, with these utterly, completely broken sounds mixed in whenever he tried to talk.

“Nah, this ain’t me…” “I’m trying to picture him here.”

And he keeps aggressively pushing his hair back while he’s crying, as if he can force the tears away with brute force.

OKAY so watching their first kissing scene through a pair of binoculars was like being personally undressed and ravished, holy god. A bomb could have gone off in the theater and he wouldn’t have looked away from her, he had such consuming focus. When he slides close to her, the first thing he does is slowly lift a hand to touch her hair, his eyes darting between where his fingers brush the strands and her face, gauging her reaction. And then when he leans in so slowly for the kiss, watching her first before his attention shifts to her mouth, and the kiss is slow and deep and….

Yeah I felt things.

From up in the balcony.

Adam’s kissing sex appeal is literally so flaming strong, I felt that heat from the damn balcony. I dare you to show me another man with such raw, intense sex appeal. Go on, I’ll wait. He asks her, “You okay?” when he pulls back, and she says in a sort of daze, “I’m fine.”

….Girl, I feel it too.

AHEM ANYWAY MOVING ON.

And then in the next scene, as if totally oblivious that he’s a literal tornado of sex, he just sweeps out the door with an over-the-shoulder “Alright I’m outta here” and it’s so blasé and masterfully hilarious.

Act 2 When he’s laying on the couch alone, half-asleep, and starts vaguely waving his arm in an attempt to remove invisible blankets. Then, without a single word, he reduces the entire audience to hysterics when he spends a solid two minutes pulling at the collar of his coat in a completely futile effort to take it off. That’s the level acting we’re dealing with here. He’s one-hand fighting his own coat and trying so damn hard and it’s the most entertaining thing of your entire year like WHAT EVEN.

God alsdfjsdlakjf okay when he comes out in the kimono robe and it’s open at first, for like 30 blissful seconds that massive, toned chest is out there to see above those tight black briefs and it is SO MUCH I blacked out and couldn’t even process the sight the first time I saw the play. …. Then he closes the robe, carefully ties it, fights with the sleeves because they clearly aren’t built for massive fuckin arms like his, and in an instant he’s the softest being I’ve ever seen and I’m confused as hell as to how I’m aroused and ‘omg bb’ adoring at the same time??? I think I need therapy? Or Adam needs to stop being massive and sexy but also awkward and soft at the same time, for the sake of my sanity?

I fail to imagine an image that will make my life more than giant Adam in this tiny bright purple silk kimono that barely reaches his thighs, bare foot, tying a dish towel around a pot of tea he just made like a tea cozy, then oh so carefully carrying the tea pot over to the table with his one arm still out of the sleeve and this look of intense focus on his face. I was overwhelmed and could not even begin to name the feels.

Let’s make it even WORSE shall we? When he hands Anna a cup of tea, kisses her forehead twice, says “That tea’s no good for a bad stomach. You want some milk?” then strokes her hair back, then asks “You want some eggs?”

GOD PALE GET OUT WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT

(^ We are all Anna)

The part where he sneakily picks up the phone to eavesdrop on Anna and Burton’s phone conversation, and stays completely silent for a long minute before hilariously bursting out, “YA GOT SOMETHIN’ TO SAY, BRUCE?!” And then AND THEN Anna angrily storms out of the bedroom and the bastard hides his face behind the empty robe sleeve and bats his eyelashes at her and bends at the knees in this cutesy little sorority girl squat and IM….?! “Real cute,” Anna says, trying real hard to be unimpressed, while the audience is in an uproar and everyone’s desperately trying to process all these newfound perplexing Adam Driver feels (WELCOME TO HELL, BITCHES. IT DOESN’T GET BETTER)

Okay okay there are SO many juicy bits during the exchange when Anna’s explaining she wants things to end between them. I was watching through the binoculars and when Anna says, “We’re apples and oranges.” He immediately gets this hella adorable smirk when he goes, “Oh yeah? Who’s the apple and who’s the orange?” Then the smirk grows when he’s all “Ever had an apple tart glazed with marmalade?” And then he’s just grinning because he’s so damn proud of how clever he is and he’s still in the FUCKIN purple kimono and he is ridiculous, I’d hate it if he didn’t own me body and soul.

Then it gets BETTER when he says, “You told me you ain’t been with no one else since you was with me a month ago. Me either. I figure one more time and we’ll have ourselves a hat trick.” And oh my GOD the shit eating grin! He looks at Larry, just grinning like a 5 year old and Larry gives him this hysterical disapproving, unamused shake of his head, but Pale just looks back at Anna full-on sunshine smiling and I’m like WHY ARE U MY PERSONAL BABY

(PS: JJ – That is what we need to see on Ben Solo’s face in TROS. You better deliver!)

He says some of my favorite dialogue here – The bit about “people walking down the street don’t mean a thing they’re doing.” He grows somber here, and this is a portion of the play’s call to its characters to strive for both emotional and artistic authenticity no matter what the price.

And then the scene gets heavy…. He stands up, disappears to get partially dressed, comes out, they start arguing, he’s still determined to make her see what’s clearly between them… And then she drops the definitive bomb over everything: “I don’t like you and I’m frightened of you.”

I watched his face through the binoculars while she delivered the blows, and it was literally like seeing a candle snuffed out. His expression melted like ice – Resolute and hard and determined one moment, and the next moment her words rush over and visibly crush him as the certainty melts from his face and leaves him empty and shell-shocked. Three seconds of silence when nothing moves but the set of his mouth and the light and strength in his face, but you’ve seen a grown man utterly crushed.

Ah, the last scene. In the first performance it was devastatingly, beautifully heartbreaking. In later performances it was humorous even while tragically inevitable. Either way, it’s brilliantly written and exquisitely acted. (Though as I’ve expressed before, I do prefer the more serious, helplessly sad versions.) I’ve never seen the two of them clutch each other as desperately and heart-rendering tenderly as they did in this performance. She fell into him on the couch, and he cradled her entire body to himself – Reaching a hand down to her thigh to pull her across his lap so his arms could engulf her entirely. They rocked together, and she clutched his arms still tighter to herself, and he kissed all over her hair while they made sounds near tears. And then Pale does break open a bit with something approaching a sob, before he curses and objects “I’m gonna cry all over your hair.”

But he only holds her tighter, as if they’ve both lost all conscious control over their bodies at this point, in the face of the all-powerful compulsion drawing them into each other’s orbits. The ending of this performance was absolutely stunning, leaving you with a myriad of unraveled emotions that are at once painfully incomplete and ill-defined, and yet just as bitingly complex and untamable as the most compelling moments of reality.

Over all, it’s nothing short of incredible to see how Adam continuously succeeds in upping his game throughout the course of the play’s run. He already brought the house down at the very first preview, and yet he manages to find new twists and interpretations to embody each and every time. What struck me this time is how boldly natural he’s become in the role – The way he leans into the accent like he’s really spent his entire damn life using the hard edges of the pronunciation like verbal brass knuckles. Adam has gotten to the point where just a single emphasized vowel sound brings the audience to hysterics:

“I heard that mollaaases you were pourin’ over maaam. Needed a shot o’ insulin.”

“Good niiiight, sleep tiiiiight.”

“Drinkin’ and thinkin’, man. Worse than drinkin’ and drivin’.”

“Fuckin’ hate Christmas. Look out… ribbons.”

“Get outta here; You’re useless!”

“Lemon will kill yaaa!”

“That was me and youuu up there.”

He has mastered how to pitch his voice for perfect, killer comedic effect. What’s more is how effortless he makes it seem; How utterly guileless. How he can swing from ugly crying to casual insensitive quip in the span of a minute, and make it just seem like the routine (if highly irregular) over-active synapses of a guy on coke. Even just his body language, the way he paces around the apartment in Act 1, completely out of sorts and out of his depth, like he’s never seen a coat rack or a stove before; A physical embodiment of his discomfiture with the emotions that don’t feel like they belong within him. His presence is imposing and even threatening, and yet his body language is alert and defensive, sometimes even self-flagellate. He embodies so many idiosyncrasies and tensions, it’s easy to see why his emotions burst from him in such tidal, chaotic floods.

I’m so thankful to have tickets to the final performance next month! I shudder to think of the feels I will drown in over how absolutely legend-level powerful Adam’s performance will be at that point. What a talent. What a man. 

I’d be overjoyed to receive any and all questions/thoughts about the play! :) Thanks for reading!

[royaltealovingkookiness]

ATLA fic rec master-list

A place to organize the ATLA fanfic I like.

I tend to like Zuko-centric stuff, and stories that focus not exclusively on romance (though I do read many different ships as well). As it will become apparent, my taste is rather eclectic, so there can be things in it for everyone. 

Most links are to AO3, I just prefer it that much to the layout of ffnet.  Also, if I haven’t tagged someone in Tumblr correctly, please give me a shout.

General AUs / Gaang/ adventure (various ships)

The Worst Prisoner  by @emletish-fish  (WIP) (Zutara) - in this AU starting already from S1, Zuko becomes friends with the Gaang much, much sooner, which means there is lots of amazing 

Zuko’s Tiny Dilemma by @botherkupo (slight Zutara) S1 Zuko agebending story featuring Iroh as a teapot!  Tiny, grumpy Zuko gets the Mumtara treatment and has great Gaang content. It sweet and funny. Now with an Azula-centric spin-off No Returns, No Refunds

The Undying Fire series by @botherkupo  -  (there are some ships, but the main focus is Gen) This is an epic Zuko is a firehealer, AU starting with The Blue Spirit, and spanning through each season. Extremely good, lots of Gaang focus, great Aang and Zuko friendship vibes and so much more. I don’t want to spoil it, other than, if you haven’t read it, go read it now!

Another Brother by @awesomeavocadolove    (Gen, WIP) Zuko is adopted by Hakoda, grows up as WaterTribe, as another sibling of Sokka and Katara. 

The Avatar Makes Three by @awesomeavocadolove (Gen, WIP) - Aang loses, but before he dies, he divides the Avatar spirit between Zuko, Katara and Toph.

Ozymandias, King of Kings by @Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought (WIP) - (Zuko/Sokka) This is a pretty dark AU, where instead of exile, Zuko was sent to a work camp before he’s freed by Aang and the others. The Zuko of this story is a pretty traumatized fellow, who is simply sick of everything. 

Southern Lights by @colourwhirled - (WIP, it’s Zutara, but it’s so much more). An AU world, where the Avatar has disappeared, the empire won the war. Iroh sets up a specialized unit with a chill airbender, a waterbending prodigy, a run away earth-bender and a banished prince.  There is politics, intrigue, adventure, cross-bending, and while the world is different the characters remain very recognizable.)  

In His Shoes by @awesomeavocadolove (Zuko/Sokka) It’s a bodyswap AU in Ba Sing Se. I love Ba Sing Se era Zuko and I love any AU where the Gaang sees this version of him. 

We Ourselves Must Walk the Path by @winterskywrites  (Gen) - short S3 AU where the Gaang really takes Zuko as prisoner in The Western Air Temple.

Fight by Electrons (Gen, WIP ) Zuko chooses differently in Ba Sing Se - now he’s the Gaang’s tour-guide to the Fire Nation. Lots of world-building around the Fire Nation. The story is on hiatus, but it’s still well-worth a read.

Unchained Melody by @awesomeavocadolove (WIP) (Zuko/Sokka), Sokka is stuck in spirit form, only Zuko can see him, S1 AU where Zuko and spirit-form Sokka are forced to hang out together. I mean how could it be wrong?

Little Zuko v the World by @muffinlance (Gen, WIP) Zuko finds Aang when they are both 12 in this S1 AU, which is written with a sweet humour. 

Fate Deferred by @catie-does-things  (WIP, Zutara) In this story Aang sleeps for another ten years before Zuko and Katara find him. It’s a story of Dadko and Momtara taking Aang to get his training in a world that ended up in a very different way after Sozin’s comet. It weaves together past and present masterfully and it’s as fun to follow the new adventures as it is to follow the past story of Zuko and Katara and see how things ended up as they are.

A Tale of Ice and Water by @soopersara (WIP) (pre-Zutara) - a canon-close AU featuring Avatar Katara, who still finds Aang in the ice. 

Zutara

Frozen @Aris Merquoni   - The ultimate Zuko gets captured at the North Pole fic. 

The Descent @chromeknickers  - S1 AU - Katara goes down to the spirit world to drag Zuko back to the living. A cranky waterbender, a pissed-off pony-tailed spirit and a very vivid spirit world. 

The Fifth Coloumn @chromeknickers (post-series Assassin AU) Katara is imprisoned by a secret society. A mysterious assassin infiltrates them. This has some dark / mature themes,  but a fantastic story overall.

Once Around the Sun  by Eleventy7 An amazing post-series eventual Zutara story, focused on Katara, Zuko and Azula. It’s a journey, both inside and out and it is amazing. Soul-searching, bonding, changing, adventure.

Mending Wounds by  FictionIsSocialInquiry  S2 AU, post-Chase. While lost in the Foggy Swamp, searching for her brother and her Avatar, Katara is haunted by visions of the Fire Nation's disgraced prince. Visions of peace after war, visions of honour and secrets...Katara has some interesting visions in the Swamp)

Stalking Zuko by @emletish-fish  Oldie but goldie, Zuko joins the Gaang, Katara takes up stalking. Sweet, funny Zutara fic from the Western Air Temple days.

I Don’t Speak Meow Language by @botherkupo   (Boogum)  Ba Sing Se-era, Zuko is a tea-server, Katara is a feisty cat AU - sweet, sweet silliness (I adore any fic where anyone from the Gaang gets to see up-close and personal, the sweet, awkward mess tea-shop Zuko is and you can’t get much closer than being a cat)

The Little Adentures of Katara (and One Giant Prince) by @botherkupo (WIP) An early S3 AU where a tiny Katara is stuck with her big princely saviour. I love this one because it gives a rare glimpse into Zuko’s palace life through Katara’s eyes, at the time when Zuko returns to the Fire Nation.  

so let us melt, and make no noise by littleloststar - a very moody AU, where Zuko is haunting for the last waterbender and Katara lives alone in an ice-palace. It feels like a Nordic myth with swirling snow and lots of darkness and ice. 

Fire Nation Royal Family

Lovable by LadyCharity (Zutara) A very emotional post-series Zuko & Azula story, which is also a Zutara story.

Azula’s Search by crowleyhouseplant (series) (slight TyZula)This story is just my absolute favourite post-series Azula-centric story, featuring an epic Azula/Mai/TyLee/Suki roadtrip to look for clues about Ursa. There is a little background Maiko and TyZula, but it is mostly about Azula’s road to redemption.

The Suns Inside of Us by @crowleyhouseplant   - (WIP) this is a sequel to Azula’s Search as she keeps searching her lost firebending, and perhaps her redemption, as she’s trying to figure out her place in the post-series reality, her relationship with Zuko, Mai, Ty Lee and others, but above all, herself.

Call “Uncle” by @jaggedcliffs  - (one-shot, Gen) The Gaang slowly adopts Iroh as everyone’s uncle.

Decorum by @sometimeswarrior (Gen) writes many good Iroh-centric one-shots. This one with Iroh & Ozai after the agni kai is my favourite.

stained in tea-colours by sangi - (one-shot, Gen) After the War, Azula eventually comes to live in Ba Sing Se with Iroh. A soulful story about Iroh, Azula and Zuko, and all the wounds they carry and the ties that bind them. It is a fantastic take on post-series Azula and her relationship with Iroh. Sangi has many great one-shots on the Fire Nation Royals, and they are really worth checking out.

There All the Honour Lies by @shastafirecracker (Gen) Iroh & Zuko oneshot, about the immediate aftermath of the Agni kai

our curse by @gaynasas and the last dragon by @runrundoyourstuff (Gen) OK, these are very dark, but very good takes on what would have happened if Ozai made a different decision about Iroh’s fate post S-2. Check out the tags before reading!

Choices by @catie-does-things  (Gen) Very interesting one-shot looking at Aang’s decision to spare Ozai’s life from the perspective of Zuko who now has to decide his fate.

Bloodline by monpetitpois (Gen) Multi-generation history of the Fire Nation Royals starting with Sozin to Izumi. It’s well written and in character and has a lovely forcus on Zuko’s and Izumi’s relationship. Character-focused, canon-compliant.

Zuko-centric (various ships & friendships)

the beginning of a new and brighter birth by  @captainkirkk (aloneintherain) (Gen) My favourite take on post-series Zuko becoming Fire-Lord. None of that comic nonsense. Very solid political plot, lots of heart and really it’s just the story that had to be told.

The Problem With Zuko by avocadolove (Gen) AU where Lu Ten didn’t die, and Zuko is just an overlooked lesser prince. He is put in charge of imprisoning Aang and his companions.

The Revenant by @achievement-bender (Gen) Zuko helps the Gaang, but in a very different way. A sad, but so good, Ghost!Zuko story. (check out the rest of their stuff - I also love Catch and Release, which is an AU where the Blue Spirit gets captured by Zhao

ribs by @gaynasas (oneshot) (Gen) There are simply not enough Zuko & Aang friendship stories in the world. This one is a great one about bonding over firebending and learning about Zuko’s scars. All of her stuff is very well written and worth reading.

a night at the theatre by @captainkirkk  (one-shot) (Gen) Fire Lord Zuko meets the Ember Island Players

A Candle to a Dragon by @achievement-bender  (WIP) (Gen) Non-bender Zuko AU. Wow, what a ride with a bookish, sweet, heartbroken Zuko, training with Piandao as he’s trying to figure out who he is without bending in a family of prodigies. 

Heartlines by @kuchee  (WIP) Zuko loves Katara. Katara loves Zuko. Aang loves Katara. Katara loves Aang. Aang loves Zuko. Zuko loves Aang. It doesn’t have to be a love triangle if everyone has two hands? A lovely Zuko/Katara/Aang OT3 with lots of pining set during a post-series Earth Kingdom natural disaster.

Antebellum by @veliseraptor (Gen) A Zuko & Aang friendship oneshot (did I mention I have a thing for these? Set during the Western Air Temple days.

Towards the Sun by @muffinlance - (Gen, WIP) Zuko is Fire Lord AU  - Zuko got imprisoned on the Day of the Black Sun, so never joined the Gaang. After Ozai’s defeat, he becomes Fire Lord by default. So when the Gaang and Iroh show up to hammer out peace, things get complicated. (WIP)

Home We’ll Go by themanofmanyhats - (Gen) This is a post-war take on Zuko’s path crossing again with Lee and his family from Zuko Alone. What can I say? Post-war Earth Kingdom reveals are my jam.

there is fire in me by @suzukiblu  - (Gen) - Firebender!Jet with Ba Sing Se era Zuko and Sokka makes for a very unlikely, but great bonding story

Modern AUs

Pulse by @isnt_it_pretty  I rarely read modern AUs, but this one caught my eye. It is set in a modern era, but the characters feel really on spot. Warning! it’s super angsty

Welcome Heat by @cowlicklesschick  - (Zutara, Sukka) firefighter Zuko and pre-med Katara, with a good side helping of sweet Sokka & Suki romance. It’s fluffy with just the right amount angst, and a reimagined modern world where all the characters fit right in.

---

[chroniclesofamber]

Screenplay Structure in Nine Princes in Amber

Part I

Technology affects everything, how we do things, how we see things, how we understand things.  It can be argued that this is one of the principles from which a great deal of science fiction derives.  But this effect reaches far beyond science fiction.  Not long after the invention of photography, someone noted that henceforth the novel would be written for the lens of the camera. Then along came the motion picture, and after that television.  All of which resulted in a new written form:  the screenplay.

The screenplay is often not accorded a great deal of respect.  But with so much of our culture being transferred to the screen, from comic books to fairy tales to novels to music, not to mention all the time we spend looking at the screens on cellphones and computers, more and more we process our world through the screen.

If there is any truth to writers, however consciously or unconsciously, writing for the camera, then perhaps something can be learned by examining a piece of writing in this way.  Here, then, is a look at the structure of Roger Zelazny’s Nine Princes in Amber as a screenplay.

OPENING IMAGE

The unnamed main character, amnesiac and narrator has just completed his recovery from being plunged into a lake in a car accident two weeks earlier, and departs Greenwood Private Hospital over the protests of the staff, none of whom believe he is in proper shape to be traveling.  (Though the objections raised may not indicate genuine concern for the patient’s welfare, they may nevertheless prove to be correct.)  This foreshadows the final scene nine chapters later (as will become clear) and also demonstrates a core character trait of the hero, who finally holds the administrator at gunpoint and compels him to release him, give him over four hundred dollars and then call him a cab — our hero is ruthless and determined.

STATEMENT OF THEME

After making his way to New York City from where he was held in the Finger Lakes region, our lead character, who now knows he was registered at the hospital as Carl Corey, visits the home of his sister Flora, on record as the party who checked him into the facility.  Feigning that he has recovered his memory, he and his sister cheerfully engage in a game of mutual distrust, hedging, jockeying for advantage, and openly making cold calculations as to which actions serve their best interests.  As this game plays out, his sister drops the names which shall prove most critical to events later on in the book:  Corwin (the hero’s real name, the other being merely an alias), Julian, Caine, Eric and Bleys.  The latter four names belong to his brothers.  That the dialogue revealing the theme is not fully understood (Corwin’s amnesia prevents him from grasping all the meanings implied by his sister’s revelations) is not at all unusual in the statement of theme and does not interfere with establishing the theme, namely that Corwin is part of a family of ambitious and powerful siblings, none of whom can trust each other.

SET-UP

Discovering a saber, a Renaissance book full of anatomical drawings, and a hidden deck of unusual Tarot cards in Flora’s library the next morning, Corwin learns more of his past:  he is handy with a sword and knows how to perform a variety of surgical operations.  The Major Arcana, or Trumps, of the Tarot deck, however, turn out to be the critical triggers for a handful of Corwin’s lost memories.  His siblings are all there, each card a masterfully executed portrait.  He now possesses the full roster of the characters who will be encountered later on, and also, of course, so does the reader.

CATALYST

Flora, away all day, returns that night several hours after a strange phone-call from Random, the youngest brother and the Magician from the Tarot deck.  Random requests help and protection, which Corwin agrees to provide.  Flora reveals the reason for her absence when she meets Corwin again in the library:  she is back from a failed attempt to travel to another world, the higher realm of Amber.  She asks if Corwin had any role in her failure and if he is going to make a bid for power.  And, though he does not fully understand all the implications, Corwin knows her guess regarding his goals to be correct and fearlessly confirms her suspicions.  The doorbell rings, announcing Random’s arrival.  Questions have been raised and an invitation proffered (by Random) to put the safe-seeming ordinary world behind.

DEBATE

Random is pursued by a half dozen gray-skinned zombie-like gunmen sporting non-human hands and teeth.  Almost immediately the three are under attack by the silent gunmen.  Through a combination of bullets, attack dogs, swordplay and superhuman strength, they dispose of Random’s foes.  Borrowing Flora’s car the next day, the two brothers set out for Amber, a drive in which Random demonstrates his ability to seamlessly shift them from one world to another.  A series of dangerous obstacles are circumvented or overcome.  Upon reaching Amber’s Forest of Arden, they are hunted by Julian and his monstrous hellhounds.  Corwin unhorses Julian and takes him hostage in order to get past several roadblocks.  Shortly after releasing Julian, they run out of gas and watch the sun go down into the sea.  Continuing on foot, they stumble upon six soldiers holding their sister Deirdre captive.  The soldiers are slain and Deirdre liberated.  She warns them that any closer approach to Amber is impossible, resulting in either certain capture or death.  This describes the stage of overwhelming doubts and challenges.

BREAK INTO ACT II

Once Deirdre joins their party, Corwin confesses amnesia still clouds the bulk of his past.  They are set upon by werewolves, which Corwin finishes off with his silver sword Grayswandir (restored to him by Random).  Random suggests they go to the undersea city of Rebma, where Corwin may walk an occult design, the deadly and electrified Pattern, to undo the damage to his memory.  Corwin agrees to the proposal.  Having confronted the questions and concerns provoked by the inciting event (the encounter with the Trumps and the shock of Random’s phone-call and arrival), the choice is made to go all-in and commit fully to the adventure ahead.

B STORY

After battling their way down the underwater stair Faiella-bionin, the three apply to Queen Moire for asylum.  It is granted, and during their brief stay Moire visits Corwin in the suite provided for him.  They discuss a punishment which Moire has imposed on Random for seducing, impregnating and abandoning her daughter, who later committed suicide.  Random must marry for a year a blind lady of the court. Moire expresses interest in Corwin and they make love.  The secondary story-line, the relationship story (usually romantic), is born here.

FUN & GAMES

As Corwin walks the Pattern, his lost past returns to him as well as his forgotten abilities.  He uses the Pattern, the organizing principle behind the infinite worlds of Shadow, to teleport to the library in Amber, where he takes possession of one of the special Tarot decks and out-fences Eric in a duel interrupted by troops.  Like Alice’s looking-glass, the Trumps work as gateways to other people and places, so Corwin uses the Trump for Bleys to join him in an assault on Eric in Amber.  During his time with Bleys, Corwin contacts some missing family members through the Trumps, even Amber’s long-absent king, Oberon, in order to better understand the picture, but learns little of use.  Now able to walk in Shadow, he recruits furry warriors from a cool forest world, whom he shepherds through the seas of dozens of worlds till near Amber, where he bests Eric in a battle of wills through their Trumps but loses his navies to Caine’s fleet.  Though Bleys falls from the perilous stair winding along the cliffs below Amber, Corwin fights his way into the City.  This is the part where the main character develops hidden potential, unlocks and exercises his or her new powers, skills and abilities.

(Continued in Screenplay Structure in Nine Princes in Amber - Part II)

[fanficstookover]

Far From Home - Tom Holland (3/3)

Request: by @justmesadgirl - Could you do one where y/n is Tom’s new assistant after Harrison gets more into acting and Tom falls for her? 😇

(a/n) It is here. After a month of writing, here is the final part! Enjoy! I must have said this a million times and I will say it again: Thanks to everyone who has read the previous parts. I never expected it to be received as well as it was. I doubted this story so much “Wasn’t it too long? Too cheesy? Should I have written in it from both perspectives? I don’t know!” Also, if anyone would want to, message me or ask with what you thought of the whole story or of some parts of it ... a review I guess, but not really. I would honestly love to read it for the future and because I simply like to read the comments. (just don’t make it too harsh, please, I’m a sensitive mess)

word count: 13,087

warning: swearing/ some drama/ feels/

previous parts in my new masterlist

Previously: 

“I love you too.” Those words were literal heaven for him to hear. She had said it so flawlessly, almost immediately after he had confessed them himself. It could only mean that she actually meant them. But a piece of him still wanted to hear her say it: “Really?”

“Yes,” she said with a wide smile, which he gladly reciprocated. He still had his hand on her cheek, and she still held on to it with her hand. He had a chance and he took it, grabbed it with all his force really. He pressed his lips against hers. He was glad that as soon as they touched, she kissed him back. It was the third kiss they shared in one day.  Each kiss was different. The first one was slow and unsure, just a way for Tom to tell her everything he wanted her to know without any actual words. The second kiss was a reciprocation. Their feelings now known to one another and hastily shown once again. This kiss went far and beyond the two. It was hungry and passionate. While still holding on to each other, Tom could feel (Y/N)’s other hand reach into his hair and pulling gently at it. Tom used his free arm to hold himself up as he lay (Y/N) on the couch. He could feel her smile into the kiss, which made him smile too. Before they knew it, they were both just laughing, still lying on top of each other.

“We can’t do this,” she said, between small bundles of laughs. Tom stopped, almost falling off of the couch… no, he did fall off the couch. As he got up, he asked: “What? I thought-” he didn’t want to sound hurt. He didn’t want to hurt her.

“Yes,” she knew what he was thinking. “But we can’t. I work for you. It would be weird, wouldn’t it?”

Part 3: 

You watched him get up. “It wouldn’t be weird.” You understood where he was coming from. You wanted this as much as he did. Those feelings you tried to hide - just like he did - were out in the open, nothing to do about it.

“Yes, it would be.” He sat down in front of you again, taking your hands in yours. You smiled, hoping it would make him feel better. Unfortunately, those eyes still looked broken. “I just don’t think it would be appropriate. Or what if we would get in a fight, what then? I bring you cold coffee every morning, out of spite and then you fire me? It just can’t work.” the explanation was more for you than for him. You needed a reason for yourself to say no because you knew that otherwise, you wouldn’t have any self-control. If it was completely up to you, you would have been half naked across the floor with him and…. NO! Stop it!

“That’s what I never understood.” he sounded more confident. “In movies or whatever, they always say “what if”. Why would we have to think like that? Why worry about something that we don’t know will ever happen.”

“Because that’s what makes us human.” you squeezed his hand.

“Well, fuck being human. I love you and you love me, no take-backsies.” he looked seriously at you, only making you laugh even more. “After this, I don’t think I can ever go back to not being with you.”

“You will have to.” you then quickly added: “I will have to.”  You started to wonder since when the two of you started to be so deep. Maybe you were bringing out your inner poet in each other.

“Maybe we can keep it on the side.” Was he really suggesting to become friends with benefits?

“Because Hollywood hasn’t given us enough examples to know how it would end?” you joked, but still with a truth hidden in it. There weren’t many different outcomes.

The next minute or three, you spend in silence. Without telling each other, you still had somehow managed to agree that for the next few minutes you would think about a solution. So far, there was nothing.

___________________________________

“What if,” after what seemed like an eternity, (Y/N)  finally spoke up with an idea, “we just… put it on pause.”

“On pause?” Tom wasn’t sure he followed.

“Yes. To be sure we are only one another’s - you know, I’m yours, you’re mine,” he loved how she said that “We only put a pause on it.”

“Until when?”

“Until I don’t work for you anymore.” She had said it with a smile, which was very misleading. Maybe he had missed something in this plan but, so far, it didn’t sound exactly spectacular. “I know, it sounds like a forever. But my contract lasts only until you’re finished with this movie.” She tried to sound hopeful. It worked a little bit.

“Ok, we can wait until December.” Now it was his turn to squeeze her hand. She, however, wasn’t happy. “Tom, as your assistant, I feel obligated to tell you, that technically you aren’t done with this movie until you finished the press tour and the movie is actually out, and neither am I.”

“You mean to say, we can’t date until next July!” his voice sounded more offended than he actually was but in the end, he was glad it did. Normally she would laugh when he used that tone in his voice (it was funny after all), but she couldn’t get herself to smile because at the same time it was also kind of sad.

“I think so.”

“No. Sorry, can’t do that.”  he shook his head vigorously in denial.

“It’s the only real way to make sure we don’t jeopardize our careers, especially yours.” he didn’t like how she made his job sound more important than her own. “I promise, it will go by sooner than you think.”

“I will keep you to that.” His finger went up to touch the tip of her nose, making her scrunch it up and say: “You’re an idiot.”

“Your idiot….in nine months.”  

“Oh no, you’re already mine. Just in nine months, it will be official.”

“It sounds like you’re pregnant.” he was joking, but (Y/N) took it to another level.

“That’s not such a bad metaphor actually, right?” Her eyes lit up as another idea probably popped up into her head. “Think about it. Expecting parents have to wait nine months for their baby to be born and they can wait. So why can’t we?”

“Because we haven’t had sex yet?” As soon as he said that out loud, a part of him regretted it. Was it appropriate to talk about things like that so soon? He was starting to get scared that (Y/N) would think he sounded desperate. Thankfully, she hadn’t even properly listened to him.

“I’m serious Tom. Nine months.” she scooted closer to him. So close that he could feel her breath on himself. “And then I’ll be yours,” she whispered. It sends shivers down his whole body, together with a one-word thought: Fuck…

“I thought you were already mine.” He didn’t want to whisper, but his voice still came out softer. She bit her lip at his words. Tom started to feel very uncomfortable in his jeans suddenly. “If that’s how we’re going to play it, love, I definitely won’t be able to wait so long.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see.”

___________________________________

The first two weeks went by fast. Before you knew it, it was Wednesday afternoon and you were driving Tom to the airport. Before he had gotten in, you made him put on a bandana around his eyes so he had no idea where you were going.

“Can I take it off already?” he begged for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last five minutes, and probably also was the hundredth time he said that in the last five minutes.

“I don’t know, are we there yet?” you teased.

“How am I supposed to know? I’m blindfolded, (Y/N)!” You didn’t respond to him. Right then, you had arrived at the airport. You looked for a parking spot in the Kiss and Ride part and then stopped the car. As soon as Tom felt the car stop, his hands reached the back of his head to untie the knot you had so masterfully made before you left. “Oh no. Don’t you dare!” you pulled his arms back.

“Aren’t we there yet?”

“Shhh.” you didn’t want to answer any more of his questions. Too scared you would let something slip. Tom groaned and crossed his arms in annoyance. You looked at the digital clock in the car. It read 13:33. Their plane had already landed some time ago. But LAX was a big airport and then they would have had to go through customs and get their luggage back… although, they were three teenage boys who came only for a half-week trip. Maybe they only had carry-ons with them, you hoped. Then, you saw movement in your rearview mirror. A mop of dark curls was running up to the car.

“Wait here. Do not remove the bandana!” you tried to sound as dominant as possible.

“Shit, that was hot,” he said. You rolled your eyes as you opened the car door. You got out and quickly closed it again and locked it. As you walked away you could hear him shout: “No! Please don’t leave me! (Y/N)!!” You laughed.

“Hello boys,” you said to the three Holland brothers. They all came up to give you a hug.

“Hey, (Y/N). Again, thanks for doing all of this.”

“No problem. As long as I don’t have to pay, I’m fine doing anything.”

“Good to remember,” Harry laughed. “Does Tom…”

“As far up till I left the car, he had no clue what was going on,” you announced proudly.

“Brilliant.” Sam smiled brightly. They all looked very excited to surprise their big brother, and you were excited that you were allowed to be a part of it. “So what I’m thinking is, that I get him out of the car still blindfolded and then just let the show begin.” the boys didn’t even question your decision of blindfolding Tom.

“Sounds good. We just have to wait for Haz.” Sam said before you were about to make your way back to the car.  Haz?

“Harrison is here?” you asked. Not exactly disappointed, but not ecstatic either. It wasn't that you had anything against the tall blond. You just didn’t expect him.

“Yeah, he went to get some coffee. Told us to go meet you so you wouldn’t have to wait.” Paddy explained to you. Right then, you could hear a pair of footsteps reach you.

“Good afternoon, miss (Y/L/N).” he bowed down, still holding on to the small suitcase he was pulling behind him, a Starbucks cup in his other hand.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Osterfield.” you did a curtsy together with the gesture of pulling your skirt up at the sides, even though you were wearing jeans.

“Where is Tom?”

“In the car. Should I get him?”

“Yes!” It was rather hilarious that Harrison shared the excitement of seeing Tom, with his thirteen-year-old brother. You smiled as you walked back to the car. Looking out for any cars coming, you got Tom’s side of the vehicle and unlocked it. Tom was leaning his head against the window and, still having the blindfold on, jumped up at the sound of the doors unlocking. You opened the door for him.

“Can I take it off now?” Were the first words he said. You wanted to come back with a snarky comment but thought against it. He had suffered long enough. “In a moment. Come, give me your hand.”

“Fine.” You held his hand as he slowly got out of the car. At that exact moment, a plane took off right above your heads. Tom duck in panic. “Was that a plane? Are we at an airport? I swear (Y/N) if you’re trying to sell me… people will be looking for me.” he rammed on as you made your way back to the four boys on the sidewalk.

“Oh shut up, you git.” Harry laughed. Tom stopped in his tracks and actually did shut up. Still, with his blindfold on, he started to look around him. “Harry?  What…”

“Surprise.” you took off his bandana. Tom squinted to get used to the light, and once he did, his eyes widened. “What are you guys going here?” he still looked confused as he hugged his brothers. Then he saw Harrison. If you were on a beach, you were pretty sure they would have run into each other’s arms in slow motion, but, you weren’t, so they had to do with what they had.

“Haz!” They hugged tightly. It was adorable how much they missed each other. Slightly weird that Harrison had a bigger reaction than his three brothers, but it was still a nice thing to see. “Seriously guys, how did you get here? Do mum and dad know?” he looked specifically at Paddy when he said that.

“Of course they know,” Paddy responded defensively. Tom still looked at Sam for confirmation. He nodded. “They do. And about the rest, you have (Y/N) to thank for.” he bucked his head in your direction. So far, you stood a bit away from the boys, giving Tom some space and time to catch up with Harrison… and his brothers.

“You did this?” he turned around. His eyes were sparkling with joy.

“Not really. I mean it was their idea, I just-”

“Literally organized everything.” Paddy chimed in. You thanked the little man for being so casual about it. “No problem.”  

“Pads is right though,” Harry decided to add his part to the conversation too, “It wouldn’t have been possible without her help.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t be here if she didn’t stalk your schedule.”  Haz joked.

“It’s not stalking. It’s doing my job. You would know that if you actually did it.” A wave of “Ooohh”s went around the three other visitors. You smiled smugly at Harrison. His ears turned slightly red. You had met him a few times already and it was always a great time that you had together. However, neither of you could help it but cause a little competitive tension between each other. With him being Tom’s former PA and you being his present, it was only natural to make jokes about it.

Tom’s smile had been growing wider ever since you had taken that bandana off of him, but when you had turned around from your “sick burn” at Harrison, you saw a slight twitch in it. “What’s wrong?”

___________________________________

“It’s nothing,” Tom was trying his best not to look sad. He was surrounded by the most important people in his life, but still, it seemed a bit off. He didn’t know when they would be heading back home, but he only had a day and a half off this whole week to spend with them. He mentally cursed his management for making him come to set the next day, even though he had no scenes to film.

“Tom, I can see something’s bothering you, what’s up?” (Y/N) grabbed his hand. He felt goosebumps go up against his whole arm.

“Well, I’m happy you guys are all here, but I have to work tomorrow, and I’m only free on Friday.” As he said his worries out loud, he saw all of them share a look.

“You didn’t tell him?” Sam asked (Y/N).

“Didn’t tell me what?” he looked around the group. They were all smiling widely, (Y/N) the most.

“Do you ever look at your own schedule?” She raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Of course, I do.” he rolled his eyes, as if it was the most obvious thing, even though it was very clear that he did not look at his schedule very often. He had just gotten so used to (Y/N) telling him in the evening what the plans were for the next day, he barely even thought about the digital copy. It wasn’t smart, but neither a conscious decision.

“That’s okay, I know you don’t. That’s why I knew it was safe to put this in it.” She took out her phone, pressed a few things and then showed him the screen. There it was, the calendar. Almost every day of the month had multiple colored bars in it, indicating some activities that had to be done, except for a few. Obviously, there were the days he knew he had off, including this week's Friday. But it was a surprise for him to see that the day before that, or the day after today, was also free of the colors.

“But, how?” he asked as he handed back her phone. (Y/N) just grinned. “I have my ways.” On any other day, an answer like that would frustrate him. He always wanted to know everything. Now he was just too happy to care. She not only made it possible for him to see his family again after months of filming, she also made sure that he actually had the time to spend it with them.

“You’re absolutely brilliant,” With a smile, he pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead. She smiled at the gesture. When he looked up, he saw four very confused faces.

___________________________________

“Since when are the two of you snogging?” Paddy asked, looking a bit disgusted. God bless his young mind.

“We aren’t snogging.” You rolled your eyes. This was true. Since the day you had the talk, you and Tom had made it clear no to get too touchy with each other. It would only make it complicated and harder to wait until July. But still, even with the arrangement in place, you couldn’t help but notice how Tom was definitely getting more comfortable around you. Everyone on set had noticed it. There were many more hugs, kisses on the forehead and cheeks, he would also often hold your hand. It was small things like that, that made you feel like you were worth so much more when you were around him.

“So what was that?” Haz pointed between you two. You suddenly felt very conscious of how you were still intertwined with Tom. He let go of you and you took a step to the side, away from him. From the moment he had taken his arms away from around your waist, you felt a chill. You wanted to change the subject. “Ok. We don’t have much time here, boys.” you clapped your hands together to signal that you were ready to go. “Unfortunately, a sudden change in circumstances,” you glared at Harrison, “now means that we don’t have space in the car for everyone.”

“What do you mean?” Tom looked back at the car. It was a big one, but you knew that six people, including luggage of four,  wouldn’t fit in it easily. You told him exactly that. “Well, there are six of us and only five seats. You do the math.” You told him as the others went in front of you to pack the suitcases into the trunk. You wondered what in the worlds they had brought with them for only a four-day trip that they all needed such big suitcases.

Watching the four drag their things up in the car, you stayed a little behind with Tom, who draped his arm over your shoulders and leaned in towards your ear, “You can always sit on my lap, darling.” he said it so the others couldn’t hear.

“And let one of them drive my car? I don’t think so.” you shook your head. You took a hold of Tom’s hand that was hanging off your shoulder. He wanted to interlock your fingers, which you only used as an opportunity to get his arm off of you.

“Hey!” He looked slightly offended. “What was that about?”

“Nothing.” you shrugged. You walked to the driver’s side of the car and got in. Tom groaned and walked to the passengers' side. When he tried to open the door, he came to the discovery that it was still locked. “(Y/N), open up!” he pulled at the handle.

“No can do, darling.” you mocked his nickname for you. “I want you all to have a fair chance.”

“For what?” Tom didn’t seem to get it. You heard the trunk close with a loud click, meaning the four other boys had managed to fit in all their stuff. You rolled down the passenger window. “You five can fight it out who can sit in front with me. The four losers have to make it work in the back.” You rolled the window back up. But halfway, you stopped: “Only no violence. Keep it appropriate for a public place.” you rolled the window up completely now. Tom looked gobsmacked at you. Still trying to pull open the door, he said: “(Y/N). C’mon, I’m you…” he stopped himself before it was too late. “I’m your boss. Open the door!” You only shook your head “no”.

Then, as if on cue, the fight began. You weren’t sure how long it lasted. But it was hilarious from the beginning until the very end. It started as a casual argument. Tom tried to prove that, since he was the oldest, he should be the one to sit in front.

“Are you kidding me? We flew here all the way to you, and you can’t even let one of us sit in front.” Harry snapped back. It went on and on like that. It came close a few times, but none had actually hit each other. After ten minutes or so, you unlocked the doors, wondering if any of them would actually notice. Through all the shouting, only one of them did. As soon as that click of the door had made its call, Paddy’s head shot up in your direction. The fight had moved in front of the car, where there was more space, so he looked straight at you. You winked at him and gestured to him to get in. Making sure none of his big brothers, nor Harrison would notice him walk away, he made his way to the passenger's door. He opened it only far enough so he could get in and closed it as silently as he could.

“Seatbelt on?” you asked him.

“Yup.” he sounded very proud. You smiled at him and then pressed the horn. Tom, Haz, Harry and Sam, all looked at you like deer in the headlight, almost literally. You rolled down your window now, “Get in losers, we’re going home.” Defeated, one by one they walked by you or Paddy, who still was radiating with pride. Now the second fight started. This one was double the action and was also a bit more physical. They were fighting it out who would have to sit in the middle of the seat. Honestly, there were no winners in this round, because even three adults would have barely fitted back in there. In the end, Tom and Harry ended up sitting between Harrison and Sam. All four looked rather miserable.

“Looking good boys,” Paddy laughed at his older brothers. Just to annoy them even more, you asked the youngest Holland: “I think these chairs are a bit uncomfortable, what do you say?”

“I think...RECLINE!” He pulled the small lever and his seat immediately went back, hitting Harry.

“Oh, bugger off, you dickhead” he tried to push it back but it had no effect whatsoever. Paddy couldn’t look happier. You rearranged your mirror so you could look over the four heads, while you were doing so, you caught a glimpse of Tom. He was completely squeezed between his brothers and Harrison. When he saw you looking at him, he still managed to get out a smile.

“You ready boys,”  you smirked, “it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

___________________________________

“(Y/N), you have to stay.” Tom tried pulling her out of the driver’s seat. She seemed rather resentful.

“Tom, I can’t do that. You should spend this time with Harrison and your brothers.” she gave him an apologetic smile, but he was having none of it.

“Oh, c’mon. They all love you.” he pulled at her arm again. While doing so he thought very carefully about his next words: “I love you.”  He stopped pulling and stared into her eyes. She stared back. It was one of the moments that some people could call magical if they weren’t in his driveway and he wasn’t busy trying to get her out of the car. “Nope.” With the one arm that Tom wasn’t holding on to for dear life, she started the car. “That’s not going to work on me this time.”  

“Oh, yes,” he groaned, “It will.”

“And how do you plan on - Aah, Tom!” without a warning, Tom plunged himself in front of her, falling on top of her lap. He ignored her screams as he tried to undo her seatbelt. He finally heard the small click and got up.

“You are absolutely insane.”  With a smile, she gave up and got out of the car. Tom offered her a hand which she took. He wasn’t sure if she did because she needed it, or because she just did it for his sake. Anyway, he was glad to help… sort of. She got out of the car and closed the door behind her. Tom gripped her by the waist from the back and spun her around. Both of them giggling.

In the meantime, Harrison, Sam, and Harry had loaded out the luggage. Tom glanced over to where they were standing. All three, plus Paddy, had looks of utmost confusion on them. He put (Y/N) back down on the ground. Harrison rolled his eyes at his best friend and Sam just said: “Can you now open the door?” Tom threw his little brother the keys. As he was still holding (Y/N) the direction was a bit off… by at least two feet. Fortunately, Harry was there to catch them.

Still holding (Y/N) around her waist, they followed the other four into the house.

___________________________________

“Oh c’mon, just give me the beer!”

“No, you’re too young.” Tom closed the fridge from in front of his brother’s face.

“I’m nineteen, for god's sake. I’m allowed to drink.” Harry retorted, trying to bust open the fridge door. Tom only had to hold his hand against it to make the task almost impossible.

“I think you forgot where we are. Here in the Americas, you can’t drink unless you’re 21.” He said it with a small smirk. Oh, how he loved to torment his brothers.

Harry looked defeated at you. You were seated at the kitchen island, next to Sam, enjoying your own beer. “Don’t drag me into it. He is your older brother, after all.”

“Ugh, you’re no help at all. Harrison?” He looked at the blond, who was currently scavenging for some snacks that all of you could eat, in the cupboards. At the sound of his name, he turned around, looking a bit startled. At that moment, he was eating some leftover Pringles. “Whu?”  he asked with a mouth full.

“Arg, nevermind.”  Harry let it go and sat down opposite of you. You were looking at your screen, checking some notifications, when from above your phone you could see his hand slide up to the bottle next to you.

“Na ah ah, I don’t think so.” You pulled the bottle closer to yourself before he could grab it. Sam let out a snort.  Harry sent him a look that told his twin exactly what he was thinking. You tried to cheer him up. “Aw, Harry. There’s no need to be so moody. You can have some lemonade.” Everyone laughed.

“I know you were joking, but can I have some lemonade?”  Paddy walked into the kitchen.

“Meh t-?” Harrison’s words weren’t very audible, but from the amount of food he had around him, you assumed he needed a drink. You got a pair of glasses from a cupboard and were about to head back to the fridge when Tom appeared next to you with the drink already in hand. You thanked him and poured the lemonade into the two glasses, then handed one to Paddy and Harrison.

“What about me?” Harry sounded offended.

“You didn’t tell me you wanted any.”

___________________________________

Tom loved seeing how comfortable (Y/N) was around his brothers. He was also glad how they tried to make her feel like she was apart of everything. They all liked each other, which wasn’t always the case when it came to Tom’s brothers and some of his ex-girlfriends.

He watched how she smiled at their jokes and stories from back home. He could see that she was truly enjoying what she heard and cared about the boys, which was important to him. He remembered the first time he took (Y/N) to his family house back in London so she could meet his parents and the three stooges. When she had left, his mom “joked” how she was absolutely lovely. Even Paddy, who usually tried to stay away from anything that came even close to Tom’s love life, said that he really liked her. And back then she was still just his assistant. 

“Tom!” he heard a collective yell of his name. He hadn’t even realized he had completely zoned out.

“What?”

“Nothing.” (Y/N) took a sip from her beer, “It’s just that you were staring at us from the corner like you were ready to kill us all in your basement.” She then brought her attention to Haz, who had finally stopped robbing the kitchen from any snacks. “So, Osterfield, what made you decide to come?” Tom was rather curious himself. All this time he thought Harrison was filming his movie, yet, here he was.

“I missed my boy!” he spread his arms, ready for a welcoming embrace from his best friend. Tom, of course, couldn’t make him wait. He ran to the other side of the kitchen and fell into Harrison’s arms.

“But weren’t you filming?” she pretended like nothing happened, probably already being used to the things Tom and Harrison did when they were together.

“We finished shooting last week. So when I heard from Sam that they were coming to see my best mate, obviously I wanted to come too.” Tom’s eyes widened in excitement.

“You’re finished filming? How was it?” He wanted to know how his best friend experienced the industry by himself.

“It was fun. Pays great.” everyone laughed at the comment. “But it’s just not the same without you, Tommy. I much rather bring coffee every day, honestly.”

“Well, I’m sure (Y/N) won’t mind you taking over.” Tom joked. His brothers laughed out loud, but he saw that (Y/N) smiled weakly, just looking at her phone.

___________________________________

Well shit, that hurt. Were you really that easy to replace for him?  As soon as Harrison came back, you didn’t matter anymore, huh? He probably didn’t mean it like. It was just a joke. Yeah, but it still sucked.

Then your phone started to vibrate in your hands and the word “MOM” lit up.

“Sorry, guys, I have to get this,”  you said as you got up. You didn’t want to sound so monotone, but Tom’s comment clearly hit you deeper than you thought at first. You waited until you were outside the kitchen to pick up: “Hey mom.”

“Hi, sweety. How is everything?” You recognized this tone she used. She only spoke like that in two circumstances: 1) when she had a favor to ask or 2) when there was some bad news to give. You were starting to freak out a little. She almost never called in the first place, so this was strange.

“Uhm, I’m good.” You said blankly. The thought of what Tom said before still fresh in your memory.

“Nothing you want to tell me about?” So at least nobody died. You were, however, still confused about what your mother was talking about.

“Uhm no,” you said a bit unsure.

“I thought you were old enough to just tell me if you were dating someone.”Dating someone? You had no idea what she was talking about and that is exactly what you said.

“Well, I’ve been seeing a lot of pictures on the internet with you and this young man who you are working for.” The paparazzi. Great. “All this hugging and smiling. Is he making you do all this?”

“What? No!” you realized you were a bit too loud and the boys next door could probably hear you. “We’re just friends… I mean, I’m his assistant, but we have a platonic relationship, I guess.” It was complicated, you wanted to add, but your mother would just drill you with more question. This, you had no patience for.  

“And these pictures at the airport? You seem rather close?” Wow, they are fast, you thought and then cursed out those paparazzi’s, or whoever took the pictures.

“That’s nothing. His brothers arrived from London and he was just very happy.” you shrugged it off. Your mother didn’t seem very impressed.

“Well, I feel you can do better.” You rolled your eyes. “Your father actually has some news for you.” 

“What is it?” You were interested.

___________________________________

“Sorry, guys, I have to get this.” Her voice sounded much different from when she had asked Harrison about his stay just seconds ago. It was much colder. A bit sad. Tom wondered what happened to her mood. The guys were still joking around, so what was it that made her change so suddenly.

She walked away. The way she walked in, made it look like she wanted to leave the room fast. Not because she wanted to answer the call, but because she actually wanted to leave. It was something in her posture that gave it away. Tom had no idea how he knew it. Just assuming he just got to know her pretty well over the last months.

It was quiet in the kitchen for a moment, then her voice sounded from the hallway: “What? No!”  

“What was that?” Harry asked, finally getting himself something to drink that had no alcohol in it.

“I don’t know,” Tom answered honestly. He looked at Sam, who was the one sitting closest to (Y/N) before she left. “Did you see who called her?”

“I think it was her mum.”  He shrugged. Tom immediately started to freak out. Her mom barely called her. They mainly spoke over text. If she called, it could only mean that something bad had happened. Thousands of scenarios filled his head until another sound came from where she was. It was a pitched squeal. He recognized it from whenever she was really excited about something. Maybe it wasn’t bad news after all. Maybe her family won the lottery.

He was ready to see a happy and beaming (Y/N), but when she came back into the kitchen, she looked as cold as when she walked out. So, no lottery.

“Hey, what happened? Who was that?” he asked full of concern.

“It was my mom.” she sat back down next to Sam. there weren’t a lot of emotions in her voice, so it was hard for Tom to pick out the situation.

“Is she ok?” He tried again.

“Everything is fine.” She had said it with a relaxed tone. A bit too fake for Tom’s liking. He knew that something was bothering her, but she was probably not comfortable talking about it in front of the rest. He decided to try to ask her about it later. When they would be alone.

___________________________________

Unfortunately, the problem of the number of people you were with came up again at night. As you weren’t exactly supposed to stay at Tom’s that week, and Harrison was even more of a surprise guest than the surprise guests, there were two too many people in the house.

Somehow, Paddy managed to win a single room for himself, beating his brothers once again. The other person to win was Harrison. Sam and Harry, already being used to getting paired up together, just went to their room without saying anything. They didn’t look happy about it though.

“Tom, don’t worry. I can go home.” You said as he offered you his bed.

“You can’t go, you already drank.”

“That was one beer, more than 6 hours ago.” He still looked concerned at you. “Yeah, but it’s late and I don’t want you driving through the whole city alone.” You were sitting on the couch alone. The rest had gone to bed already as their jetlag was truly kicking in now. It was just you and him. He tried to hold your hand, but you pulled away. In his eyes, you could see that it hurt him.

“I don’t have any of my stuff here. No pajama’s, no toothbrush.” You tried to find another reason not to stay. Tom’s “joke” had stayed with you for the rest of the day and he had definitely noticed, although you weren’t sure if he knew that was the reason you were down.

“You can have one of my shirts and I’m sure you can survive with one day not brushing your teeth.” You wanted to say that that was disgusting, but no words left your mouth.

___________________________________

They were alone. There was nobody around to interrupt. He could take this as a chance. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?”  He made another attempt to take her hand in his and, once again, she pulled away. He had no idea why, but it was clear that he was the reason she was upset. “Darling?” She looked into his eyes. It was probably the first time she did since the phone call, he came to realize.

“Do we have to talk about it?” she sighed, resting her head on the top of the couch. He did the same.

“I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s just that you make me worry.” Third time really was a charm. As he was talking to her, he touched her hand softly and was happy to see that she didn’t flinch away.

“It’s nothing. A bit stupid actually.” He knew what she was doing: Trying to make it sound like she wasn’t that bothered so he would back off a bit. He was having none of that. 

“What is it?“ 

“I don’t even really know what’s wrong with me.” He wanted to say that nothing was wrong with her, but let her talk. “I’ve just been thinking today. Maybe…” she shivered before she spoke, “Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all. I mean us, together.” Tom thought he heard something break as she explained herself. It could have been his heart. Maybe his hopes and dreams about a future together with her. Who knew?

“W-what?”

“Well, if I’m already so disposable for Harrison, I can’t even think about-” This was getting too much for him. He had to stop her before it was too late.

“Disposable? Love, what are you talking about? I would never…” He sat straight up. (Y/N) stayed in her former position. Her eyes filled with sadness.

“But what you said before. That really hurt.” He was still not sure what she was talking about. “How you just immediately were fine with Harrison coming back to be your assistant again.”

“What?” Had he missed this? When did he say that? 

“See, it’s stupid, you don’t even remember. There’s not even a real need for me to be so paranoid and dramatic. I mean, we’re not even together yet” She rolled her eyes and then kept her gaze on the wall parallel to them. He understood that she was clearly trying to avoid looking at him. He knew that she felt hurt and maybe even broken inside, and that broke him too, but the way she looked right there - so effortless, so beautiful - he just wanted to take a picture of her. To be able to keep this moment, as sad as it may be now, forever.

“(Y/N), the fact that I don’t remember makes me feel even worse. Tell me what I did.” Her eyes were back on him. 

“In the kitchen, this afternoon. You just assumed that I would be fine with Harrison getting his old job back. It felt like you didn’t even care about me anymore.”

“Never say that again!” He scared himself. It was not a yell, but it was louder than the tone they were talking in before. “I care so much about you. That was only a stupid joke. You know that. I actually said it, because I care so much about you.” 

“I know that. I guess that some part of me was just a bit jealous.” She bit her lip. Tom glanced down and fought off the urge to kiss her right then. 

“Of who? Harrison?” He laughed. “I promise you, there is nothing between me and Harrison that you should be concerned about. He means nothing to me.” 

“Oh yeah?” She didn’t seem to be very convinced.

“Well, nothing compared to you. I thought, if Harrison came back, you wouldn’t be my assistant anymore and, as much as it would suck, at least we could be together quicker. We wouldn’t have to wait for those horrible nine months.” The sadness in her eyes was slowly disappearing. He was glad to see that. “I am so sorry if I made you feel bad. Believe me, that makes me feel even worse.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled.

“Well, it really isn’t, but thank you.” He kissed her forehead. When he pulled away he caught her glimpse down at his lips and then look into his eyes again. Before he knew it, she was kissing him. His hands were automatically on the small of her back and she had wrapped her arms around his neck. The kiss was soft but hungry at the same time. They both had been longing for it since the first day. Since then, they hadn’t kissed each other, just as promised.

She kept on leaning into him, just to get as close as they physically could until he fell back on to the couch. One of her hands left his neck and went slowly down his chest. When she had reached the bottom hem of his shirt, she pulled eagerly at it. Tom didn’t know what to do. Was he supposed to stop now? Tell her they should wait like they agreed?  But then her lips went down to his neck and everything started to get blurry, including his thoughts.

While kissing his neck, she started pulling his shirt up. The cold night air made him slightly shiver, together with everything she was doing to him, resulting in a suppressed groan. He could feel her smile against him.

“Oh yeah, you’re not snogging at all.” They broke apart as soon as they heard the third party.  This just so happened to be Paddy. He walked by them, to the kitchen. While he was there, (Y/N) got off of Tom, leaving him extremely needy. Paddy came back with a glass of water. He was mumbling something and Tom wasn’t sure if that was towards them or if his little brother was talking to himself. Only when he walked by a little closer was when Tom realized that the boy had no idea he what he was doing. He was still half asleep. Before he left the room he mumbled a bit louder: “Don’t worry (Y/N), I won’t tell Tom.” And then he disappeared into the darkness of the rest of the house.

“Wait. Who did he think I was….” she burst out laughing.

“I don’t want to know.”  Her laugh was truly something he would never get bored of. It was beautiful.

___________________________________

“So, what was that actually for?” Tom asked when you got into his bed half an hour later. You were wearing an old tank top of his. He himself was just wearing underwear. He got under the covers after you and you were sure all of that was definitely a view you could get used to.

“What?” You decided to mess with him a bit.

“You know what.” he lay on his side, his arm holding up his head. You smiled as you copied his pose.

“I don’t know. Do I need a reason?”

“No.” he smirked, “Because, otherwise I would have to make up an excuse to do this.” And then he kissed you. It was a quick peck on the lips. As simple as it was, it was a kiss you had never shared before. “Goodnight,” he said afterward while turning off the light on the nightstand.

“Goodnight.” you closed your eyes and were ready to fall asleep. That promise was broken when you heard the light flick back on. You groaned at the sudden brightness.

“Sorry babe.” he apologized. You were taken aback by the new nickname but let it go as you rather enjoyed it. “I was just wondering, the call from your mum. Is everything alright?” You liked it how concerned he was.

“Yes, everyone is doing great.” you smiled, still with your eyes closed.

“I just know that she never calls you. What was it then? You don’t have to tell me…” 

“She wanted to know if I was dating anyone.” You said very casually. Tom made a noise that sounded rather obscure. You opened one eye to check on him. He was lying on his back. Arms beneath his head. He was looking at the ceiling, not knowing you were looking at him.

“Oh, ok. Why?” He had furrowed his eyebrows, which you thought looked adorable on him.

“She saw some pictures of us.” His head turned to look at you. Both of your eyes were now open.

“Wha- how? What pictures?”  

“We should probably be a bit more careful with each other when we are outside.” was all you said. He still understood what you meant. His muscles loosened a bit.

“Right.” there was a long pause. “And what happened at the end? You seemed rather enthusiastic.” You weren’t sure if you should tell him so soon. But you were in his bed, wearing his clothes. You couldn’t keep a secret from him. “I got a job offer.”

“Really?”  He jumped straight up. You sat up too, just a little slower.

“Yeah, my dad finally got the approval for his first script and he wants me on his set.” Tom looked extremely happy. For you, for your dad. Then the corners of his lips lowered.

“What does that mean exactly.”

“Well, it means, that next September, I will be in London, on the set of my dad’s new movie.”

“September? So you’re not leaving me?” His smile came back.

“I would never.” You kissed him lightly on the lips. Not exactly like he had done before because the kiss lingered a bit more. Then, when you had finally released him, he just pulled you straight back in.

___________________________________

Tom couldn’t sleep. He had been restless the whole week already, but this night he couldn’t even manage to close his eyes. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t just get some sleep. It would all go by much quicker if he just would. But maybe too quick. Was that an option? The nerves were getting the better of him.

He was back in London. The same hotel he had been at the beginning of shooting the movie. Just a few rooms to the right from his previous one, to be exact. A few days before he had come back from Seoul, to which he had flown to from Tokyo. Before that, there was also Paris, New York, Los Angeles. It had been a busy month.

Almost every day just spend in studios and hotel rooms doing interviews. Some of them were with the rest of the cast, a few even with Jon, but most of it he did alone. He didn’t mind. The only thing that really bothered him was that there was nobody to stop him from running his mouth.

Of course, (Y/N) did her best to prevent him giving away any spoilers during his interviews, but even she wasn’t a miracle worker.

He lay in his bed. Staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t see anything. A small gap between the curtains left a glimmer of light around the room, but that was it. He thought about how, in less than two days, he could finally be with her. Ever since they had agreed to wait until the last day of her contract, Tom thought it was a ridiculous idea. He didn’t know how he managed to wait nine months. Maybe because they didn’t really wait. During the nine months, there had been cuddles, there had been kisses, there had been nights like that one they shared when his brothers and Harrison came to visit him in America. It was all there technically. However, it didn’t feel complete. Hopefully, it would soon.

___________________________________

You knocked on his door. It was still early. You doubted he was awake. You were wrong. Right after you knocked, you could hear footsteps behind the door. He opened the door with a “Morning.” It was barely spoken.

“Good morning, here’s your coffee.” You handed him a cup of coffee which you had gotten from downstairs. He immediately took a sip from it. “Not to be rude, but you look like-”

“Shit?” he finished your thought. He let you in while drinking more from his cup.

“I wanted to say like you haven’t slept. But sure.” You shrugged.

“That’s probably because I haven’t.” You turned around to look at him. Was he kidding you? It was your job to get him to look presentable on camera and he wasn’t even trying. “Tom.” You half groaned, half pleaded.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep.” He came over to you and put his one free hand around your waist. “I really am.”

“Tell me that again after I get fired.” you rolled your eyes, but still put your arms around his neck. How you adored moments like this. He pulled you tighter into the hug, at least as close as he could with only one arm. You looked up at him and he looked down at you, your noses barely touching. You could feel the smell of the coffee he was just drinking.

“You can’t get fired. Firstly, because I am the only one that can do that now, and second, you only work for the next two days.” Two days. Those words gave you butterflies in your stomach. How did the time go by so quickly?

You couldn’t believe it.

“So, tell me, darling,” he paused in his sentence to sip some more from his drink, “What is the plan for today?” You didn’t even have to check your notes for this. You had been looking at his schedule so often the last few days, just to check it was really the end, that you knew it by heart.

“The first interview is planned for 9:00, then lunch and your last one is supposed to finish around eight.”

“Sounds good. What about tomorrow?” It seemed like he was going somewhere with this conversation. You weren’t sure where, but just went along anyway.

“Well, tomorrow, there’s the London premiere and then it is done.” you let go of him and pulled away. “And then I will be free from you at last.”

“Yes.” he didn’t laugh at your joke, making you a bit nervous. “I was thinking.” He put the cup of coffee down. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Me neither, but it’s just two days.”

“One?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

“What about the premiere then? You still need an assistant on the red carpet.” He would be completely lost, you thought. But you didn’t want to say that out loud.

“I told you, I’ve been thinking,” For the first time in forever. “Because you see, I need a plus one.”

“No.” you stopped him before he even began. “I can’t possibly be your date for the premiere.”

“Why not?” He sat down on his bed, looking at you waiting for a good excuse.

“I don’t have a dress. At least nothing that comes close enough to red-carpet-worthy.” You leaned against the desk that was on the other side of the room.

“If you’re really that worried about a dress, you can ask Z to help. You know she always looks good.” If any other boy would say something like that about any other girl, you would have been red with anger and envy, but it was all true. Zendaya never had a day off if it came to fashion. “I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“But it’s already tomorrow. I won’t have enough time.” Time. You looked at your watch. “And you don’t have enough time to get ready for today. Go get dressed.” You shooed him towards the bathroom. Tom grabbed his clothes. He didn’t seem too stressed about the time constraint.

___________________________________

Tom had made it just in time for the first interview. The people from Screen Junkies were already waiting. He walked into the room, (Y/N) following right behind him. He could hear her apologize to the crew.

“Hi, guys. So sorry,” he said to the man already sitting in front of the promotional posters. He got up and shook his hand. “No worries man. I’m Hal. Great to meet you. Big fan.” He was very enthusiastic. Tom sat down in his chair opposite Hal and the camera’s almost instantly started to roll. Hal did a quick intro for the video:”What’s going on guys, I am here in London, next to Spider-Man himself, Mr. Tom Holland. How are you?” His excitement was captivating to see so early in the morning.

“I am… very tired but also very excited.” Tom smiled. He had seen interviews with the guys from Screen Junkies and they were always hilarious. Although, he wouldn’t say no to some breakfast first.

“So, Spider-Man: Far From Home. Your second solo movie. Fifth Marvel movie. How does that feel?”  

“It’s insane. Especially that I died in Infinity War, so I was like: Well, now what? Because they literally don’t tell me anything about anything.” He laughed. Hal continued with the next question. “In the movie, we see Peter struggle with his new suit and all the new abilities. Is there any new skill that you learned while on set?” There were many things he learned while filming this movie, however, the only thing that first popped up in his head was: “On one of the first days on set, actually, I learned how to do one of those towel turban things. That was something I never thought I would do.” His hands were above his head, trying to replicate the movements. Since the first day, (Y/N) had wrapped towels for him a few times. They both enjoyed it. He liked how gentle she was while still trying to tighten the towel, while she was just laughing at how big of an idiot he was.

“Can we see?” Hal suggested. Tom cursed himself out. Now he would look completely foolish in front of the camera. He could already see the memes in front of him.

“Uh, sure.” Someone from behind the camera handed him a towel. “Was this planned?” He leaned forward and put the towel over his head. He did a few attempts, but just as always, it didn’t work. Defeated, he mumbled under the towel: “(Y/N). It’s not working!” He did it more as a joke. He was about to pull it off when he could feel her hands pull at it. Before he could even blink, it was all set and he could sit straight again. (Y/N) walked off camera back to her spot. Everyone was trying to politely hold in their laughter. “Tadaa. Thank you (Y/N).” Tom smiled at her. She rolled her eyes at him in return. “Yeah, I learned that if you can’t do something, you can get someone to do it for you...God, that’s awful advice.” He looked straight into the camera and pointed his finger, “Kids, don’t listen to me.”

___________________________________

The morning press interviews went by very quickly. Soon it was already lunch. You were back in Tom’s hotel room, looking as he stuffed himself with hotel food. You couldn’t manage to swallow a bite. The nerves were getting to you. The whole morning you could only think about what Tom asked you. Of course, it would be amazing to walk with him on the red carpet, but the cameras… the people… you weren’t sure if you could do it.

Right then, to save you from your thoughts, there was a loud knock on the door. You signed to Tom that he should keep on eating and that you would open it. Jogging towards the door, you shouted out: “Coming.” Behind the door stood the one and only Zendaya. In her hands something that looked like body bags. No, dry cleaning bags. On one of them, you saw a certain brand that made you mentally cry over your own bank account.

“Hey, Z, what are you doing here?” You let her in. She walked over to the bed and dropped the bags on there.

“Tom texted me that you needed an outfit. I have a few dresses spare.” You glanced over at Tom. He was still enjoying his sandwich while looking at you in that I-told-you-so kind of way.

“That is really unnecessary. You have to take a break too. We have to get back to work soon.”  You tried to get out of it. You felt horrible that she was using her (already small) break to help you out. Zendaya, however, didn’t seem to be that bothered. She casually snatched a sandwich from Tom’s plate and took a bite out of it. Tom tried to respond with his mouth full but got ignored.

“Don’t worry, girl. You don’t have to try them on now. Do it when we’re done. I’ll come by and help. As for you,” she turned to Tom, “What the hell were you thinking, asking her so late.”  He just shrugged. You both rolled your eyes at him.

“Thank you Z, but really…”

“No buts. Come to look at this one. I think you’ll like it. Personally, the length is a bit off for me but it will fit you great.” She could barely touch your hand from where you were standing, but with a little stretch, she managed to pull you up to the bed. She took one of the bags and unzipped it. You couldn’t see it completely, but it looked like a long blue dress. The color was beautiful.

“You wanna pull it out?” Zendaya asked suggestively. You nodded your head, barely visible. Zendaya helped you carefully take the dress out of the covering. It was gorgeous. The blue tint could be best described as “Iron-Spider blue”.  It wasn’t very intricate. It was sleeveless, except for a strap that would fall of the shoulder loosely. The length was hard to guess while Zendaya was holding it in the air, but you assumed it would fall on the floor once you put it on. Not wanting to sound over-excited, you said: “It’s amazing.”

“I have some more here, but those were just back-ups if this one won’t fit.” She admitted. You thanked her with a hug, which she gladly accepted.

The three of you spend the rest of the lunch break together until you (so Tom) were called back to the press room.

___________________________________

“How do I look.” Those words, Tom assumed, were a sign for him to open his eyes again. He did this slowly. When his retinas were finally adjusted to the light in the room, he felt breathless. She was absolutely stunning! The dress hugged her curves so well, that if it wasn't for Z in the room, he wasn’t sure he could contain himself. The color of the dress complimented her skin, her hair, pretty much everything.

“Beautiful.” he managed to say. She smiled at him thankfully.

“So, I guess the dress’ a hit,” Zendaya smirked, more to herself.

“Z, I can’t thank you enough,” (Y/N) was radiating joy, “You’re literally like my fairy godmother.” Both girls laughed. “Okay I have to go, do you want some help getting out of it, or…” Zendaya asked.

“No, I’ll be fine. Goodnight.” (Y/N) said. Tom waved her goodbye and soon, they were alone. He watched as (Y/N) spun around in front of the mirror. When she caught his eyes in the reflection she stopped. “What? What you smiling about?”

“Nothing. You’re cute.” He said plainly. She turned around so she could look him straight in the face, not just his reflection. “Oh am I?” She said it with half a pout.

“Yes, you are.” he got up. They both slowly walked to each other. “Do you need help with the dress?”

“Pfft, no.” She tried to reach the zipper on her back. After a few tries, she changed her mind anyway to: “Maybe.” Tom told her to turn around. He took a step back so she could turn with enough space for the dress. It didn’t seem like it at first, but it was pretty long. The fabric gracefully draping over the ground. She pushed her hair back, so Tom could easily pull down the zipper.

“There you go.”

“Thank you.” She was about to take it off. “Uhum.”

“Right sorry.” Tom turned around to face the wall and closed his eyes. He only opened them again when (Y/N) gave him a sign. He turned back around and she was in his bed, wearing one of his shirts. The dress carefully putten away for the next day. Tom’s thoughts wandered off to the first night they shared a bed together. It was almost like this one. It was already dark outside. But was London ever really dark?  

“Don’t you have your own room?” He teased.

“Too far, too tired.” She fake yawned. Tom asked himself if she could be any cuter. After getting changed into some pajama bottoms himself, he jumped into the bed next to her. She hid her face in one of the countless pillows in the bed while he spooned her up. Just like that, they stayed for what seemed like forever. Just talking, laughing. Trying not to think about the big day. Yes, it would be a premiere, but not only for the movie.

Tom could feel (Y/N) fall asleep in his arms. As he lay in the darkness, he thought about the small box on his nightstand and how (Y/N) hadn’t noticed it yet.

___________________________________

You were woken up by a kiss on the cheek. Then another one. And another one. There was also one on your neck. Oh, how were his lips so soft?! You moaned out. It resulted in a small laugh from Tom.

“Morning.” His voice was still raspy so he couldn’t have been awake long either.

“Good morning.” you gave him a kiss where he had kissed you. A small stubble was beginning to resurface and you couldn’t help but caress his cheek slowly. “You have to shave.”

“But it’s finally growing!” He objected.

“Yes, I’ll give you that. But it’s patchy and you will look idiotic on the carpet.”

“Fine.” He was ready to get out of bed. You were not, so you pulled him back under the covers. “No,” you groaned.

“I thought I had to go and shave.”

“I didn't say now. Just a few more minutes.” You had enough time. The premiere wouldn’t start until seven.

“I would love to stay in bed with you until the end of the world, love, but we already missed breakfast. I’m hungry.” What did he mean, you missed breakfast? You asked him what time it was. He answered: “11:41.” When you started working for Tom, you had very quickly come to know that he had no sense of time whatsoever. But still, he should have realized that you should have woken up much earlier. Of course, this was just as much your fault. You didn’t set up an alarm either. You were planning on doing it, but Tom’s arms were so comfortable.

“Tom! We have to get ready!” You jumped out of bed and almost raced him to the bathroom. Of course, it had no sense, because all of your toiletries were still in your own room. You ran back to the room, put on your own clothes from last night, grabbed your dress and were about to walk out when Tom stopped you. “Excuse me.” He looked a bit grumpy. “I think you forgot something.” He tapped his right cheek. With a smile, you walked back to him and were about to give him a kiss, when he suddenly moved and your lips touched. The kiss ended up lasting for a while, neither of you complaining. When it was time to let go of each other, he whispered, still into your lips: “I love you… God, it feels good to finally say it again.”

“I love you too.” And you were on your way again. Before you closed the door though, you looked back for a moment: “I’ll see you in… thirty minutes, okay?” He gave you the thumbs up. It wasn’t very reassuring, but it was something. You ran through the hallway towards your own room, ready to take a good long shower.

___________________________________

“Are you ready?” Tom asked (Y/N). They were sitting in the limousine, which was nearing the theatre in which the premiere would be held in. the streets were busy, giving them some time to gather their thoughts. (Y/N) didn’t say anything, she gripped his hand tight. It was obvious she was nervous. “Hey, babe,” She looked at him. Her eyes even bright in the dimmed lights of the vehicle. He kissed her gently, hoping it would calm her nerves. As she put her hand on his cheek, he knew he managed to do so.

“Are you ready?” he asked again.

“Not really.” She put a strand of her behind her ear nervously.

“Don’t ruin your hair.” he took the hair again in front of her ear. He had watched her put it up herself in the half-updo, and he knew that she would be beating herself up for the upcoming days if it would get ruined now. “You look gorgeous.”  

“Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself too if I might say so.”

“You’ll never hear me say no to that, love.” They kissed again. He could taste her sweet lip gloss: Strawberry. She abruptly pulled away. “But there will be questions, right? People are gonna wonder who the hell I am. They have already for months. What are you gonna say?”

“How about we tell the truth? You’re my girlfriend. I love you. All that.” He didn’t know how he was keeping it so cool himself. Two nights ago, he was completely freaking out, yet now, he was fine. Everything was fine as long as she was with him. He felt the pocket of his suit. The box was still there. For a second, he doubted his choice. Should he do it now? Yes, before they got there. He pulled the box out. (Y/N) eyes caught a glimpse of it, as she never missed anything he did, and one of her eyebrows was raised. Before she could ask him what he's doing. He handed it to her.

“As ravishing, you look tonight, I do think this will make it all even better if that’s even possible.” He originally wanted to wink but was too nervous for her reaction. Still looking at him, she opened the box. Only when light hit it and one of the stones reflected on her face, did she look at it. A gasp fell out of her mouth.

“Tom. What is- It’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say... Why?”

___________________________________

You looked into the small box. A beautiful brooch was looking straight at you. The choice of the subject made it clear it could only have been Tom who chose this for you. It was a silver spider. The body was made out of two big, clear reflecting stones. Was it diamonds? He wouldn’t be that crazy to give you that, right? The legs were also encrusted with smaller gems. It was probably the prettiest piece of jewelry you have ever held in your hand, or even seen for that matter.

“Because I love you, and with this, I can show everyone that you are finally mine,” Tom answered your question, which you had almost forgotten, even though it had only been seconds, as you were looking at the brooch. You didn’t ask him if these were diamonds. You weren’t sure if you could handle to know that. Instead, you asked what any other person would do if handed something like this: “Is this a proposal? Because Tom, I love you, but I’m not -”

“Don’t worry, me neither.” he smiled. You smiled back. It definitely meant something if he knew what your thinking without you actually telling him. “You don’t even have to wear it. I just wanted you to have it.”

“Oh, I will wear it, don’t you worry, Thomas.” you pulled it out of the box to get a closer look. Still not wanting to know the materials. It wasn’t necessary. No materialistic value would even compete with how much it was worth to you after what Tom said to you.

“Here, let me help you put it on.” You handed him the spider and watched his face as he carefully clipped it into your dress. The focus in his eyes was undeniable.

___________________________________

When the spider was properly attached to the blue fabric of her dress, Tom took a moment to just look at her. That moment, unfortunately, lasted not long enough. Very quickly after he had let go of the gems, the driver had pulled up to the carpet.

It was a wonder how they had not heard the screams of the people outside, or how they managed to forget that they weren’t alone but, in fact, surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of people in the streets. The door of the limousine was opened by somebody on the carpet. The screams became deafening in a second. Tom thanked the driver and got out of the car. Immediately, whoever stood around, no matter if they could actually see him or not, turned to him. Tom bowed over to the car and gave (Y/N) a hand. She barely needed it, he knew that, but still took it.

At the sight of him with someone at his side, the fans went ballistic. Taking her hand, they walked together towards them. He stopped in front of a girl who looked like she was about to faint. It was absolute craziness around him, and he loved it! To think that he had the opportunity to work on something that made so many people happy, was unimaginable. He signed the girl's book, took a picture with her and went on to the people around her. As he was busy signing and taking selfies, he could hear her say something. Thinking it was to him, he turned around, but it wasn’t.

“(Y/N), would you sign this too?” She asked, trying to sound as politely as possible in all the chaos.

“You don’t want my signature.” She said, her cheeks a bit red. Tom shook his head in disbelief at how shy she still was.

___________________________________

“But I do,” the girl took out her signature book and handed you a pen. You took both hesitantly. The book was open at the page on which Tom had just signed. You took the page next to it. 

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” You asked.

“Addie.” she smiled.

“Well, Addie,”  you said as you added a few words to your signature. “You are officially the first person I ever signed anything for.” You handed her the book back, closed, with a big smile. She asked for a selfie, which you gladly took. Immediately, after that more people started to ask you for signatures and pictures. You had never expected it. It was crazy how many people recognized you from Tom’s Instagram stories and pictures. It made you wonder if you should put your own account on public-mode again. 

A few minutes later, you and Tom were told to move along to the part of the carpet with all the press. The flashes were blinding, but it was possible to get used to it. You didn’t but assumed you could get used to it someday.

Tom put his arm around your waist as you walked down the carpet. He asked: “how does it feel like to be a star, darling?” 

“I’m not famous,” you rolled your eyes. A small smirk crept up on your face when you saw the way he was looking at you. 

___________________________________

Her smile was a bit devilish but innocent at the same time. It was a unique thing about her, that he loved. Not many people could pull off a smile like that. Tom wanted to tell her that that wasn’t what he meant. 

His name was called and he knew it was time for some rapid-fire interviews on the side of the carpet. He had no idea where to go, so he just followed the direction from which his name was called. He was happy to know that (Y/N) followed him. If it was up to him, he would never let her go.

They were greeted by a lady who Tom had seen a few times before, on premieres or award events, he just couldn’t remember her name. “Hi, how are you,” she said. He said he was fine, thank you.

“Well, we’ve been asking this everyone, who have you brought with you tonight?” He saw her look (Y/N) up and down as if inspecting for approval.

“I have my lovely girlfriend, (Y/N), here.” He squeezed her side a bit, making her silently giggle.

“Girlfriend?!” The woman seemed genuinely surprised. “Well, congratulations, you guys look perfect together.” Then she turned to (Y/N), “I see you are supporting your man through and through.” She was looking at the spider on her dress.

“Well, I’ve been with him through everything with this movie, from beginning to finish, I probably know more about it than he does.” she joked, making not only the woman laugh, but even some people around, that were not apart of this conversation at all.

“Not probably, she definitely knows more about it than me,” Tom added to the joke. 

The woman laughed loudly and then spoke to her microphone again: “Well, we have a little game for you guys. A bit of a Marvel pick your pick.” Tom saw the excitement in (Y/N)’s eyes at the mention of a game.

“Tom, favorite Chris?”

“Hemsworth, 100%.” He didn’t even have to think about it. The lady turned to (Y/N).

“One specially for you, favorite Spider-Man.” (Y/N) smiled sweetly at Tom. She thought hard for a moment before answering: “Well, I’ll always have a soft spot for Tobey Maguire.” She laughed with the woman. Tom gasped at her answer. He himself wasn’t sure if he did it as a joke or not. “(Y/N)!”

“Oh, please. Like you didn’t know this yet. You’ll always be my Spidey.” She gave him a small kiss on the cheek. He could hear a bunch of “Awe’s” around them.

He played a few more rounds of the game and then the lady said: “Well, it was great to see you again,” Apparently it was already time to move on to the next one, “Again, congrats on you guys and the movie!” He thanked her and together with (Y/N) he moved on to the next stand.

___________________________________

There were a few more interviews, some of which were more games of some kinds than actual Q&A’s. Through the talks, you had to also make sure that Tom would walk the red carpet a bit for the photographers. Yes, as a date, you technically didn’t need to do anything. Still, your inner assistant, couldn’t help it.

You were now standing next to Tom again, who was in the middle of his last interview of the night before he would be ushered into the theatre.

“So, Tom,” The man started the next question, “I can only assume how tiring filming a Spider-Man movie can be. Now that it is finally over, do you have any plans for a break, maybe a holiday?”

“Oh, definitely, I was thinking maybe Hawaii.” You saw him look at you while he was saying that. You smiled, more to yourself, at how lucky you were to be here, next to him, enjoying this amazing night.

___________________________________

They were walking into the theatre. The flashing lights of the cameras had changed into dimmed surroundings of the cinema. People were sitting down. It was eerily quiet. Just a mere whisper around some people, who were talking about the movie they would watch in just a few minutes.

They walked to their seats, middle of the middle, perfect placement to watch a movie in the cinema. The places around them were mostly empty.

“I’ll be back,” he said with a kiss and sprinted down the stairs, ready to give a small speech with the rest of the cast before the movie would start. The lights went completely off, leaving only a few spotlights on the stage. Jon said a few words about the making of the movie, getting a big applause from the crowd, and handed the microphone to Tom afterward.

“Yes, everything that Jon said.”  A few people laughed, “This movie has been the best experience of my life. It has been a great time working with all these wonderful people,” He looked around him, at his fellow cast members. “There are many moments on set that I will never forget.” His eyes found (Y/N). He could barely see her in the dark, but the Spider still gave a faint glimmer that was unmissable.

“I hope you all will enjoy the movie. There is one scene that I really enjoyed...”  He couldn’t finish his speech as someone grabbed the microphone from his hands.

“And thank you, Tom. Keep it together ok. Don’t want to spoil the movie now.” Jon said. Everyone in the audience laughed. There were a few more speeches and then it was time to watch the movie. Tom walked back to his seat. He sat down next to (Y/N), grabbed her hand and kissed her. He could feel the surprise in the kiss as it took her a few seconds to kiss back. The movie had already started, but they didn’t care. They both had seen it already at the previous premieres around the world.

“Were you serious back then?” She whispered when the kiss broke. “In that interview. Do you really want to go to Hawaii?”  

“It doesn’t have to be Hawaii. I just thought that now it’s all done, we could use some alone time.” his whispers were barely coming from his mouth. But he knew she could hear him. Her eyes were all the proof he needed to know that. “You know, far from all these people, far from our jobs, far from home.” She laughed a bit too loud at the horrible joke. A few people around them shushed.

“You’re an idiot,” she whispered finally, then turned to look at the screen. He put her arm around her shoulder and she leaned her head on him. Tom kissed the top of her head and said: “Your idiot.” She shushed him and said with a smile: “Shh, I’m watching my idiot run around in spandex.”

He now knew for sure. With her, he would never really be far from home.

The End

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Chapters 1-12

by Dan H

Wednesday, 01 August 2007

Dan reviews the final Harry Potter book chapter by painful chapter.~

I really liked the first three Harry Potter books. They were brilliant, engaging, cleverly written, masterfully paced and - as AS Byatt put it - just scary enough. They were genuinely good children's fiction, of the kind that a grown up wouldn't feel too bad about reading in public.  Then JKR got famous, and her editors stopped doing their job. And she got sucked into a nightmare whirlwind of publicity. And it went downhill from there.  I hate Potter now. Genuinely, vehemently hate it. I hate it precisely because I used to love it, and it angers me no end that the books I enjoyed, about a boy wizard and his boarding-school adventures, have been swallowed by this "phenomenon." 

The Harry Potter books aren't "books" any more. They're events. That's why people queue outside a bookshop at midnight to buy a copy, as if somehow starting to read a book an hour later than somebody else makes the reading experience different.  Anyway, to cut a long story short, I have a burning desire to exorcise the spirit of Potter from my soul, and I intend to do it by writing a chapter-by-chapter review of the final instalment. There may be some delays while I fling the book across the room.  So, without further ado...  Chapter One: The Dark Lord Ascending In which Voldemort borrows Lucius Malfoy's wand. I should first take a quick moment to say that his book managed to piss me off before chapter one even started by having a quote from Aeschylus at the start. I mean for fuck's sake, what is this, a 1993 Vampire sourcebook?  Anyway, chapter one is called The Dark Lord Ascending although it should more properly be called "The Dark Lord Sitting In A Dining Room And Being A Bit Mean To The Malfoys But Basically Doing Nothing."  Fans of the series will of course be intimately familiar with scenes of Voldemort Doing Nothing. He's been at it for three books now. This chapter is particularly full of fine examples of the Dark Lord's sinister aptitude for inactivity.  The action - or rather inaction - takes place in the pleasingly alliterative grounds of Malfoy Manor. Voldemort and his wacky minions discuss the progress of their sinister plan to take over the Wizarding World. They bicker about when Harry is going to be moved from his present location, and then they do a lot of exposition about how they are going to take over the Ministry of Magic.  This is particularly heavy handed. 

"It's a start," said Voldemort. "But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimgeour must be surrounded by our people before I act. One failed attempt on the Minister's life will set me back a long way." "Yes, my Lord - that is true - but you know, as the head of the department of magical law enforcement, Thicknesse has regular contact not only with the Minister himself, but also with the heads of all the other Ministry departments. It will, I think, be easy now that we have such a high-ranking official under our control, to subjugate the others, and then we can all work together to bring Scrimgeour down."

Just in case you didn't catch that, they've got control of a man named Thicknesse, got that, Thicknesse, who is head of the department of magical law enforcement, and they are going to use him to get control over all the other ministers, and use that to take down Scrimgeour, and then take control of the ministry of magic.  Remember in the first book, where the Philosopher's Stone was barely seen, seldom discussed, and it wasn't until the very end of the book that you actually found out why Lord Voldemort wanted it so badly? Remember how cool and exciting that was. Damn I miss that.  While the Death Eaters bicker about whether their dastardly plan which they could have enacted at any time over the past three years is actually going to work or not, we are painfully aware that there is a figure, horribly suspended above the table in the centre of the room. Helpless and silent, we are forced to watch the black-hearted villains discuss their tedious-but-horrific plans, while this figure suffers above us.  Imagine, then, how our horror is compounded when we discover that this innocent creature who the Dark Lord torments so casually is none other than ...  ... Charity Burbage!  You know. Charity Burbage. She taught Muggle Studies at Hogwarts. Remember Muggle Studies? I think Hermione takes it in her third year. Or something.  So anyway, she dies. And this makes a Meaningful Statement About The Nature Of Death. Students of literary history will of course recall that up until 2000's Goblet of Fire, there had never been a death in any children's book ever written.  The Death Eaters talk some more. They make Nazi salutes (seriously: "in silence, both raised their left arms in a kind of salute") and are racist about Muggles and Mudbloods.  Chapter Two: In Memoriam In which Harry gets angry at a Daily Prophet article and shouts "Lies!" For chapter two, we are back following Harry Potter. I confidently predict that we shall never leave his side again.  In chapter two, Harry cuts his finger on the mirror that Sirius gave him. Then he reads two articles about Albus Dumbledore. These give us more information than we could possibly want about the plot-dumping old coot. Tragically, it seems fated to be but the tip of a very large Dumbledore-shaped iceberg.  And these articles are long. Like really, really long. It's basically like JK Rowling took her fifteen-year old notes about the character of Dumbledore, copy-pasted them into the text, and attributed them to a guy with a silly name.  The purpose of this chapter, it seems, is to make us believe that there was more to Dumbledore than we ever expected.  He had thought he knew Dumbledore quite well, but ever since reading this obituary he had been forced to recognise that he had barely known him at all. Never once had he imagined Dumbledore's childhood or youth; it was as though he had sprung into being as Harry had known him, venerable and silver-haired and old.  Now I'm sorry, but that's just cheating.  Dumbledore spends six books being a moderately entertaining but utterly generic White Haired Old Mentor Figure. Harry's belief that Dumbledore had "sprung into being ... venerable and silver-haired and old" is of course literally true. JK Rowling invented him to be a mentor to her protagonist, and at no point does he act like anything else. Dumbledore spends six books as a plot device. Asking us to suddenly see him as a real person is pathetic. She might as well have gone the whole hog and written "Suddenly, Harry realised that JK Rowling was a really brilliant writer, and all her characters were really complex and interesting."  Harry packs his bags, and prepares to leave on his Epic Quest To Defeat Voldemort Using The Spells He Learned In His Second Year Duelling Class.  Chapter Three: The Dursleys Departing In which the Dursleys Depart, and it's actually quite touching. This chapter, unlike the previous two chapters, is not a waste of good wood pulp. We see Harry being taken away from the Dursleys for the last time, and the Dursleys themselves being taken into hiding so that Voldemort cannot target them.  This chapter actually contains something approaching a significant event, and even more rarely, some actual semblance of character development on behalf of the otherwise zero-dimensional Dursley family. 

"I don't think you're a waste of space."

It's a touch of the old style. The Dursleys remain, to the end, a rather pathetic caricature of a middle class family (and really, is there any easier target in the world than the middle class suburbanite?) but Dudley's admission that he doesn't entirely hate Harry, and that Harry did in fact save his life, carries a genuine emotional weight.  So the Dursleys depart in the company of two utterly forgettable Order of the Phoenix members, and we never hear from them again. From here on in we live forever in the magical world of Hogwarts, where fourteen year olds fight dragons, and Dark Lords are desperate to get teaching gigs.  Chapter Four: The Seven Potters In which Harry's mail client goes down. After the Dursleys leave, the Order of the Phoenix show up, and explain that Potter can't escape by magic, because he's still underage, and the "Trace" which detects magic being performed around underage wizards would allow the Ministry to locate him instantly.  So instead they decide to go by broomstick / Thestral / flying motorbike, with six "decoy" Potters, created using Polyjuice potion.  It all goes a bit tits up. They run into a pack of thirty Death Eaters, who start flinging killing curses at them.  Harry responds with the spells he learned in his second year duelling class, and manages to take out about half a dozen of the pursuing Death Eaters with Stupefy and Impedimentia charms, which they are clearly incapable of blocking. Note that since Harry is "still under the Trace," his use of underaged magic should have immediately notified the Ministry to his presence, allowing them to track him trivially. After all, that's why they couldn't just Apparate out of there in the first place. Right?  So Harry and the rest of the Order fight the Death Eaters. During this battle, however, the Order of the Phoenix suffers a Terrible Loss. 

"Hedwig - Hedwig -" But the owl lay motionless and pathetic as a toy on the floor of her cage. He could not take it in, and his terror for the others was paramount.

Leaving aside the fact that I've seen better writing on fanfiction.net (I mean really "He could not take it in and his terror for the others was paramount," what the fuck?), I think it's telling that so far the casualties of this most dark and terrible war are a teacher who we never actually saw in a previous book, and Harry's pet owl. But the whole thing is presented in this massively portentous way that says This Is A Significant Event. I'm sorry, but it's an owl. Not only is it an owl, but it's an owl whose sole function is to deliver Harry's post.  So they fight the Death Eaters, and one of them gets his cowl knocked off to reveal that he is none other than ...  ... ready for this? There's a lot of these big revelations coming up...  ... he is none other than Stanley Shunpike!  Stanley Shunpike ... the guy off Knight Bus? Yeah, I don't care either.  Harry tries to disarm Stan with his trademark Expelliarmus curse, at which point Stan can identify him immediately. This is apparently significant, although since the Ministry is supposed to be able to tell the moment he performs underage magic of any sort anyway, I'm not sure why he's so shocked.  Some thing go wrong, and Hagrid flying tackles a Death Eater and gets all badly hurt and stuff. The next chapter is called "Fallen Warrior." But don't worry, Hagrid doesn't die. Because people only die if it won't get in the way of the plot. I wish I'd had JK Rowling to explain death to me when I was a child.  Chapter Five: Fallen Warrior  In which JK Rowling talks to us about the nature of death. Hagrid doesn't die. He and Harry are taken in by Mr and Mrs Tonks, Harry's tooth (which got knocked out in the previous chapter) is regrown by magic.  Harry and Hagrid travel by Portkey to the Burrow. Everybody else shows up one at a time, taking much longer than they needed to.  Lupin gives Harry a stern talking to about not trying to disarm his enemies. You see, the Death Eaters don't understand the idea of disarming your opponent. They're far too evil to consider the advantages of being armed when your opponent isn't. Or something. 

"Of course not," said Lupin, "but the Death Eaters - frankly most people! - would have expected you to attack back! Expelliarmus is a useful spell, Harry, but the Death Eaters seem to think it is your signature move, and I urge you not to let it become so!"

Essentially this little speech, like the bit about Dumbledore in chapter two, reads a lot like JK Rowling trying to pretend that her weaknesses as a writer are really deliberate character traits. The fact that Harry always uses Expelliarmus in a fight is a limitation of miss Rowling's imagination, her idea of non-evil things to do in a fight is strictly limited. Trying to claim that this is somehow saying something profound about Harry's naivete or his merciful nature is hogwash.  Most everybody makes it back in one piece. George (of Fred and George) loses an ear, which apparently can't be cured because it's "Dark Magic". And Mad-Eye-Moody dies. Now, I kinda liked Mad-Eye, but the character I actually liked was Mad-Eye as played by Barty Crouch under the influence of Polyjuice potion. Now admittedly, that character is pretty much identical to the "real" Mad-Eye, but that's rather strong testimony to how poorly developed he actually was.  This would all be fair enough, but JK then insists on making it very clear to us that there is Death happening and that Death is a very important part of the book, because it's important that children be told about Death.  So we get glorious lines like: 

Harry could not quite believe it. Mad-Eye dead; it could not be ... Mad-Eye, so tough, so brave, the consummate survivor ...

And... 

Nobody seemed to know what to do. Tonks was crying silently into a hand-kerchief: she had been close to Mad-Eye, Harry knew, his favourite and his protegee at the Ministry of Magic.

And of course the execrable: 

The suddenness and completeness of death was with them like a presence.

The first two are just the old show-don't tell problem, which JK never really got over. She's never really worked out how to convey something to her audience without just telling it to them directly. The last line, though, is just completely fucking amateurish. It's up there with "From my point of view, the Jedi are evil."  Leaving aside the fact that, yet again, she's attempting to convey the information that the people in the room have been struck by the suddenness and completeness of death by saying "the suddenness and completeness of death was with them" she also seems to think that "was with them like a presence" is anything other than nonsense. I mean, how can something be with you without being like a presence? It's a completely empty simile. It's functionally equivalent to saying "the suddenness and completeness of death was with them like a thing" or "the suddenness and completeness of death was with them like a thing that was with them."  I really hate this book.  Chapter Six: The Ghoul In Pyjamas In which we get a plot dump about Horcruxes. In chapter six we have a refreshing change of pace. And by "refreshing" I mean "frustrating" and by "change of pace" I mean "slow to a painful crawl as we watch Harry and co sit around doing nothing for several days."  So Bill and Fleur are getting married. We spend an inordinate amount of time talking about this. Mrs Weasley is entirely preoccupied with it. Presumably because she's a woman and therefore doesn't understand important things like war, death, and her son losing an ear.  In chapter six, Harry Ron and Hermione explain to each other in great detail the plans they have made for their upcoming battle against Voldemort. So we learn how Hermione mind-raped her parents in order to keep them safe (she cries about this for four seconds, Harry and Ron do not comment). We learn how Ron has dressed up the Weasleys' pet Ghoul in an unconvincing red wig, so that nobody will suspect that he's really out to kill Voldemort.  The thing that bugs me about this chapter is that it tries to provide answers to questions which I wouldn't have thought were important until JK drew attention to them. If the book had just been about Messers Potter, Weasley and Granger hunting some Dark Lord ass, I'd be totally onside. Putting this chapter in to "explain" why Voldemort doesn't just capture the Weasleys and torture the hell out of them just highlights how ludicrous it is that he doesn't. Hell, once he's taken over the Ministry of Magic, he could very easily haul in everybody Potter has ever cared about, and start hacking bits off of them until Harry gives himself up.  But he doesn't. Because Ron has cunningly disguised a Ghoul as "Ron With a horrible disease and a completely different face". So they'll leave the Weasleys alone. They're considerate, those Death Eaters.  The other thing we find out is that Hermione has a copy of Secrets of the Darkest Art, otherwise known as the Big Book of Horcruxes. She proceeds to explain in excruciating detail exactly how Horcruxes work. Because lord knows we wouldn't want anybody reading the book to draw their own conclusions about that sort of thing. That would imply that reading a work of fiction was something other than the process of learning facts about the author's world. We can't have that now can we.  Similarly, we get things like: 

"I wonder when Dumbledore removed it from the library ... if he didn't do it until he was headmaster, I bet Voldemort got all the instruction he needed from here." "Why did he have to ask Slughorn how to make a Horcrux then, if he'd already read that?" asked Ron. "He only approached Slughorn to find out what would happen if you split your soul into seven," said Harry.

Which, let's face it, reads like the Q&A section from JKR's official website. This isn't Harry talking to Ron, this is Rowling talking to her readers. At least, to the sorts of readers who ask that sort of question.  The chapter ends with no progress having been made towards finding any of the Horcruxes.  Chapter Seven: The Will of Albus Dumbledore In which Ginny kisses Harry Like She Has Never Kissed Him Before Chapter seven is a mystery dump. Harry wakes up shouting "Grigorovitch!" and we are left to wonder what this mysterious name means.  It's Harry's birthday. Ron gets him a book about pulling chicks. Ginny kisses him as she has never kissed him before. The Minister for Magic shows up and tells Harry, Ron and Hermione that they have all been left stuff in Dumbledore's will. Then he makes an inept attempt to grill them for information.  In Dumbledore's Will, Ron is left the Deluminator (the thing Dumbledore uses at the start of the first book to put out the lights in Privet Drive), Hermione is left a book of fairy tales, and Harry is left the Snitch from his first ever game of Quidditch. And the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, but he's not given that. We are then told that all of these gifts are Very Very Mysterious but that Dumbledore Must Have Had A Plan and therefore it is Important To Work Out What Each Of The Gifts Means.  Once again, nothing happens. Ron tells Harry to keep his filthy vacillating hands out of his sister's long, sweet-smelling hair. Team Potter wonders why Dumbledore left them the bunch of crap he left them. And of course they wonder why the irritating old coot didn't tell them what was going on while he was still alive, or give Harry the Sword of Godric Gryffindor when he still had the chance. 

"And why couldn't he have just told me?" Harry said quietly. "It was there, it was right there on the wall of his office during all our talks last year! If he wanted me to have it, why didn't he give it to me then?"

Going by previous form, the answer to this all important question about Dumbledore's already spurious motivation probably has something to do with love.  Everybody gets ready for the wedding. Because a wedding is exactly what you should be thinking about when a Nazi wizard with no nose is taking over the world.  Chapter Eight: The Wedding In which Voldemort takes over the world while Harry is at a wedding. One of the Weasleys marries one of the characters with a stupid accent. Harry is Polyjuiced into a red-headed stepchild so that he can hide amongst the guests. Harry then has to babysit an offensive aunt of the Weasley clan, who says horrible things about everybody.  Harry, being a man who has his priorities sorted out, decides that the best use of his time, seeing as how he's destined to destroy the Dark Lord and everything, is to get really obsessive about Dumbledore's family history. To be fair to the kid, it's not like he was going to be able to get anything done at the wedding anyway.  So we learn more tedious crap about how Dumbledore's mother was like evil or something, and he had a sister who was a squib. We also learn ...  ... get ready for another big revelation ...  ... this one's really big ...  ... no seriously ...  we also learn that the Dumbledores used to live in Godric's Hollow! Doesn't that shed a whole new light on the other books? Can't you just see it all now, how Dumbledore's every glance, every gesture was just screaming "Harry! My family once lived in the same general location as your family!" Truly, we are in the presence of a master storyteller.  We also find out that Grigorovitch was a wandmaker, that Voldemort is still evil, and that Voldemort has killed the Minister of Magic and taken control of the Wizarding government. 

The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.

Okay, I get it. It's punchy. But for the love of all that is holy, we're a hundred and thirty-three pages in, the Death Eaters have finally done something interesting, and we miss it because we're stuck following Harry, who is stuck at a wedding and angsting about his old headmaster.  Chapter Nine: A Place To Hide In which Team Potter sits around doing nothing.  Potter and his pals flee the wedding and hide out in a greasy spoon cafe, where they are set upon by Dolohov and Thorfin Rowle. Presumably these names mean something to somebody - perhaps to people who have religiously followed JK Rowling's "Wizard of the Month" updates on her website. These two Death Eaters fail to capture the Potterites, which should come as no surprise to anybody.  They decide to modify the memories of these two men, in order to cover their escape. Because lord knows a couple of mindless zombies won't attract attention. 

"But I've never done a memory charm." "Nor have I," said Hermione, "but I know the theory."

By "but I know the theory" she of course means "I mind-raped my parents into thinking they were completely different people who wanted to move to Australia, and by the way I told you fuckers that - like - two chapters ago and you didn't offer me any support or sympathy."  They decide they need somewhere safe, and they decide to go to Grimmauld Place, which is apparently safe because the late, lamented Mad-Eye had set up "protections" there, so that Snape couldn't get in and kill them all (remember that, although JK Rowling told us categorically that Snape was a good guy, we're supposed to ignore this information and keep acting like we think he's a villain). These "protections" turn out to be a tongue-tying curse that lasts for eight seconds (and can't Snape cast spells silently anyway?) and a Spooky Dumbledore Ghost, which goes away once you tell it you aren't Snape.  This chapter is mercifully short.  Chapter Ten: Kreacher's Tale In which we are told firmly that Sirius black was NOT GAY. Harry pokes around Grimmauld place, finding Sirius' old collection of bikini model posters, photograph of himself at the age of one, and a letter from Lily Potter which basically reads:  "Dear Sirius, I'm really glad we aren't going get horribly killed in the next six months. Baby Harry is wonderful and I love him very much. So much that I'll make him immune to dark magic by the sheer loving power of my loving loving love. Love Lily."  And of course, the letter ends on this note: 

Bathilda drops in most days, she's a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore, I'm not sure he'd be pleased if he knew! I don't know how much to believe, actually, because it seems incredible that Dumbledore...

The rest of the letter is missing.  You fucking hack, JK Rowling. Look, I get it. You've got a bunch of Dumbledore backplot you want to give us. You've told us that. Just give us the plot dump, or don't give us the plot dump. I don't care at this stage. Nothing's going to be as cool as "he was Ron from the future" anyway.  Next to Sirius' room is the bedroom of ...  ... wait for it ...  ... Sirius's brother: Regulus Arcturus Black.  It's a good thing that he put his middle name on his door really. And a good thing that no two people in the entire Wizarding world have the same initials.  So they've found RAB, but no magic locket of Horcruxness. They ransack the house, then realise that Mundungus probably nicked off with it. Bastard.  So they go to Kreacher, and he gives them a bit of backstory which, unusually is genuinely touching. It turns out that crotchety old Kreacher was given to Lord Voldemort by Regulus, and Voldemort used him to "test" the defences around his locket Horcrux, making Kreacher drink the poison so that he could hide the artefact underneath it. Curiously, this led the Dark Lord to believe that his defences were completely secure, instead of the more sensible opinion that his defences could be breached by anybody with access to a tractable house-elf.  Anyway, Kreacher was all wrecked by this, and when Regulus found out he turned against Voldemort (possibly the genocide was giving him the willies as well). He got Kreacher to take him back to the cave, drank the poison himself, and gave Kreacher the Horcrux with instructions that he should destroy it.  Which is actually kind of sweet, and I'm damned certain Harry and co would never dream of sacrificing themselves for a house-elf.  So they decide to be nice to Kreacher, and this gets him onside. They then send Kreacher looking for Mundugus, so they can get the Horcrux back off him.  Chapter Eleven: The Bribe In which Harry Potter bravely lets a house-elf do his job for him.  Harry Potter, realising that in order to defeat Voldemort he must use the Dark Lord's own methods, however despicable they might be, spends this chapter sitting on his arse doing nothing. Not that Voldemort has anything to fear: he's had decades to practice his sitting-on-his-arse-doing-nothing, and Harry's arse-sitting seems amateurish by comparison.  So anyway. Harry sends Kreacher to get Mundungus back, so he can ask for the Horcrux. While he is sitting around waiting, Remus Lupin shows up and acts like an asshole. He informs Harry that Tonks is now pregnant, and therefore he has decided to join Harry on his quest, because werewolves shouldn't be allowed near small children or something.  We also find out that Voldemort and his minions have continued their cunning plan to imitate the Nazis and have started making Muggle-Borns "register", and presumably wear little yellow stars as well, because in case you hadn't noticed the Death Eaters are a little bit like the Nazis and Voldemort's desire to wipe out the Muggle-Borns is a little bit like the Holocaust. Clever that, isn't it. Kudos to you JK Rowling. It's about time somebody took a stand against genocide.  Anyway, I digress. Remus shows up and acts like an asshole. Harry acts like an asshole back, and they get into this huge "who can be the biggest asshole" competition. This shows us that Harry has "grown up" over the course of the books. We know this because he is now acting like a forty year old novelist thinks a teenager would act, rather than actually displaying any form of personality or motivation.  Remus leaves to go back to his "wife and child", but not before giving us another one of the by now familiar "this is why this book totally makes sense and doesn't suck" speeches. When asked (very sensibly) why Voldemort doesn't just come into the open now that he's - y'know - taken over the goddamned world already, Lupin insists that: 

"Voldemort is playing a very clever game. Declaring himself might have provoked open rebellion: remaining masked has crafted confusion, uncertainty and fear."

Once again, JK drops the "show, don't tell" ball, by having somebody inform us that Voldemort is being clever, when in fact all he's doing is letting Harry slip through his fingers by pulling his punches when he should be rounding people up by the truckload. I mean what, precisely, does Voldemort have to fear from open rebellion? And if he wants to create confusion uncertainty and fear, then I'm sure a couple of senseless massacres could do the same job with fewer administrative overheads.  Eventually Kreacher, who is the only person around here still doing his job right, brings Mundungus back, and he reveals that he gave the amulet to Dolores "Wasn't I Killed by Centaurs Already?" Umbridge as a bribe.  So Harry is off to the Ministry of magic.  Chapter Twelve: Magic is Might  In which we get yet another Polyjuice sequence. One thing I'll say for JK Rowling: you've got to respect her plot devices. While nothing will ever top the Room of Requirement for sheer brass-bollocked "yeah, this thing does whatever the hell I need it to" style, Polyjuice potion pulls its weight and then some.  So Harry, Ron and Hermione polyjuice themselves into Ministry employees and walk right in through the front door. This reminds us, as if we didn't know already, that the Ministry is run by morons who, despite Polyjuice potion being common enough that an above-average twelve year old can whip up a batch, haven't thought to take any precautions against their members being waylaid and replaced by rebellious seventeen year olds. Perhaps Voldemort couldn't increase security too much on account of his not wanting to "provoke open rebellion." He's just too damned clever for his own good, that Lord Voldemort.  This chapter is almost Tolkeinesque in its irrelevance. It essentially chronicles, in painstaking detail, the way in which Team Potter knock out some Ministry officials, polyjuice into them, and walk into the ministry. On their way in they hear terrible things about Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors being put on trial. For a Dark Lord, Voldemort is clearly very concerned about due process.  The chapter takes its name from an irrelevant but kinda cool piece of window-dressing. The phrase "Magic is Might" is engraved onto the base of the new (black) statue which has replaced the old frolicking magical creatures motif. 

Harry looked more closely and realised that what he had thought were decoratively carved thrones were actually mounds of carved humans: hundreds and hundreds of naked bodies, men, women and children, all with rather stupid, ugly faces, twisted and pressed together to support the weight of the handsomely robed wizards.

Now that's some serious Dark Lord style. But you'd think with his overall agenda of world conquest and crushing the Muggles and the Muggle-born beneath his pallid iron-shod heel, he'd be less concerned about hiding in the shadows.  Oh, also in this chapter we find out some more shit about Dumbledore or something. And Snape has been made headmaster of Hogwarts. And Voldemort is still looking for this wand-maker guy.  Next: The return of Dolores Umbridge, and more pointless backplot.

Themes: J.K. Rowling, Books, Young Adult / Children

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Comments (go to latest)

http://pozorvlak.livejournal.com/ at 20:39 on 2009-02-08

That, my friend, was awesome. You had at least twice as many quotable lines in that piece as JKR managed throughout the entire book.

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Rami at 06:53 on 2009-02-09

Welcome to Dan's Fans -- meetings are every Saturday at 11... ;-)

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Arthur B at 09:16 on 2009-02-09

You realise, of course, that there's only one way this can end: sooner or later someone, somewhere, is going to write Harry Potter fanfic where Dan is a character. (He could teach all the kids physics and he could be in a big snark feud with Snape and Snape will challenge him to a duel and Harry will be all GO DAN SHOW THAT MEANY WHO'S BOSS and Hermione will be all OH WOW PHYSICS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN MAGIC I AM TOTALLY A SCIENCE NERD NOW and Ron is all MAN IF I WERE GROWN UP I WOULD TOTALLY SMOOCH DAN RIGHT NOW and Dumbledore is all MAN IF EVERYONE I KISSED DIDN'T TURN INTO HITLER I WOULD TOTALLY SMOOCH DAN RIGHT NOW and Dan beats Snape in duel with science and Snape is all I WAS WRONG TO SAY SCIENCE IS LAME YOU SHOULD STAY HERE AT HOGWARTS AND TEACH US ALL THE WAY OF THE MUGGLES and Dan is all like NO WAY THE KIDS OF ALL NATIONS NEED ME and he turns around and punches Voldemort in the jaw so hard his head comes off and then he takes off and flies away to the Moooooooooooooon....)

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Wardog at 10:54 on 2009-02-09

But Dan doesn't have long dark hair, skin like freshly poured cream and violet eyes....

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Arthur B at 11:03 on 2009-02-09

Aaaand there's my cue to post a link to the Sparklypoo comic.

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https://me.yahoo.com/a/tjLTVHEducFb4rKDHU5DukBHtQcCbTVMEEq55v0CxV4-#5e156 at 19:43 on 2009-07-29

Brilliant, absolutely hilarious, I want to show the rest of the Harry Potter fanbase your review. I wonder if my inertia could ever be on a par with Voldemort's. "My inertia is with me like something that is with me."

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http://lunabell14.myopenid.com/ at 22:50 on 2010-07-27

I wonder if cutting out all of that unnecessary Dumbledore backstory would've helped the pacing, or at least cut down some of the reading. Seriously, even when it was first introduced, I couldn't help but think "Why are you telling us about this? How will this help with Harry's quest, at all?" And every time it was brought up, it just continued to irritate me. I honestly don't understand why her editors didn't insist she cut it out.