#chapter breakdown

[phantomskeep]

Chapter Breakdown: Putting the "Fun" Back in "Funeral" C3

HIHIHIHI!! I'm going to be breaking down some parts of my Dead on Main fic's, Putting the "Fun" Back in "Funeral", third chapter. This one was a doozy to write and I kind of wanted to break it down and put out my thought process behind a few things? It seemed like fun and honestly I need a writing warm-up haha.

Anyways, onto Chapter Three: Emotional Constipation has Never Been Easier!

This chapter opens up with Danny zooming out of the Ghost Zone and into his home dimension. It has a scene where he's flying above the cloudbed before dropping down past the storm clouds in a way that is vaguely reminiscent of skydiving, or jumping off of buildings (in like a heroic way nOT IN LIKE A IM GOING SIX FEET UNDER WAY). "Phantom, why did you put this in here?" Well, I wanted to give a little nod to "Into the Spider-verse"! This story has some of the same themes - a superhero coming of age while traveling across dimensions. Having Danny give gravity the middle finger was one way I knew I could sneak that little hint in there, and I think it turned out pretty well! The storm, on the other hand, was just written in there because while I was writing the chapter a thunderstorm was brewing. There was a lot of dramatic lightning flashes and I thought it would be visually appealing (readingly appealing??) to slap that in there!

"Wow Phantom, Danny had a very depressing childhood!" Yeah, yeah he did. This is a bit of a coming of age fic combined with a slowburn romance and healing fic. Danny's childhood wasn't easy - something that IS canon - and having him actually have to think about how his parents failed him helps brew the distrust Danny has in them. The idea of "knowledge is power" combined with how they act equals Danny expecting failure on their part. He has come to fully believe his parents don't care about him or Jazz. "... not noticing their greatest failure hovering in front of their greatest success" Danny thinks he is his parent's greatest failure, despite him literally dying in order to get their "greatest success" to actually work. It's a simple truth, thought maybe a bit misguided, that Danny values in his life. Showing that Danny has been hurt by his parents' inventions, neglect, and actions just drive this deeper.

"Is Danny immortal?" Wellllll yes but no but yes. Danny can still be killed, don't get me wrong, but he's going to be aging at a slower rate. This is brought up in C3 during Danny's talk with his Ghostly Therapy support group - and something that will be brought up again. Accepting the fact that Danny, who has strong ties to the Human and Ghost worlds, will outlive at least one side of himself is something he struggles with. This is a large part of the "coming of age" story arc.

"Jason and Dick have such a great relationship, but he seems to have some issues with the rest of the Batfam, what gives?" Well! When I was growing up I was able to read some of the original Batman and Detective comics - meaning my first impression of Jason was that he was a redheaded circus boy. In those comics Dick was actually able to pass down the Robin mantle himself, Bruce was emotionally competent, and the three of them had a great relationship. With that in mind, I love to see Dick and Jason actually be brothers. They're my favorite duo AND they have a great parallel to Danny. Pulling from the "greatest failure and greatest success" vibes from Danny's thoughts on his parents plus the portal, if you compare that to Robin #1 and #2, you have Bruce's greatest success (Dick, who is a strong leader, good sibling, and manages to VERY RARELY act out in mindless anger) and compare that to his greatest failure (Jason, who he wasn't able to save, who he thought killed a man, who died only to come back so much differently) it draws a wonderful parallel of life and death. In like a vague way. But! Jason needs someone in his corner and Dick is that man. Because we're going old school, baby!

"Jason's POV was very short this chapter" Yup, it was. The main point of Jason's POV was to show that he was okay after being all loopy and that his relationship with Dick's is different than what is the current DC canon. I did this over Thai food and dragon movies for uh... totally no reason. Whatsoever. No foreshadowing and plot thickening here. Just... happy dragons, happy boys, and comfort food :)

"What's up with Danny's outfit change?" Legit I just gave him the kingly outfit for plot reasons. It'll be important later on - trust me - but for now accept that he's a cute little starboy. I have some concept pictures in regards to why I chose what I did, but unfortunately it's kind of spoiler-y :(

"Wow! The Ghost Zone is really changing!" It is!! Many people pointed out in C1 how Danny's coronation carried weight to it, how you all could tell it was important. And it was, and the GZ changing is just showing more of that weight. I've pretty much spent the past three chapters laying together the groundwork and foreshadowing to just what being the Ghost King means to Danny. Part of that is healing the GZ and making it better for his people. The Keep changing (and wow I love being able to name-drop myself in my fics) is only a small part of the reconstruction the GZ is going under. It's great and I'm super excited!!

"Why did you mention the tapestries?" WELL, if you follow me on this hellsite you might remember a post I made a while ago about spending hours creating a political atmosphere for the GZ! The tapestry is hinting at the politics behind the dead, important plot points in the future, and why the Realm is changing. I want you guys to be able to keep reading this fic and have an "oh!" moment where you put the pieces together.

"Oh my god Danny's rich" - said by Faust/Aerois, my lovely beta. Yes, Danny is rich. In my opinion there's already enough fics out there where Danny has to survive on the streets which is something I'm not really looking to do on here. It's also a plotpoint! Keep in mind that Danny's got that great amount of wealth :)

"I love the line Goin' Gotham" SAME THO! It's also me being sneaky and referencing the collection "Going Gotham" on AO3, which is full of DPxDC fics that I love. Also Danny is a dork and he would totally say that because he is a dumb little babyman and I love him.

Anyways, that's it for the chapter breakdown! I'm hoping to do more of these in the future though I can't say I will be doing them for every chapter I post. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and the breakdown :D

[goingbuggy]

Miscellaneous Notes About OPLA Buggy Because I Adored Episode 2:

The "knows-nose" homophone joke?? So good (not really important i just loved it ok)

I love how OPLA played into Buggy's crew being more circus than crew; the manga has them just.... hanging out on a rooftop LOL. The new theming added so much immersion!!!

Jeff Ward has the standout performance of this season imo. It feels different than Buggy from the source material, but in very good ways; Buggy usually gets upstaged in a very goofy manner, but here, it's clear that Buggy's failure stems from insecurity leading to incorrect assumptions.

Buggy never believed Zoro and Nami would come back to help Luffy because of his own trust/abandonment issues. (His logic reads borderline delusional: "Shanks abandoned me, and he was my friend.. so why would they come back for you?")

Buggy offering Luffy a place on his crew?? YES. Yet again, Jeff Ward really sells this version of the character -- he is so incredibly frustrated by rejection. Why would a "freak" like him choose to be hurt by others who let them down? (As viewers, we know Nami and Zoro are fighting to get back, but Buggy truly believes they'll leave Luffy behind.)

"You can't make people love you." AAHHHHH!!! Luffy's emotional intelligence strikes again!!!!!!!! It hits the nail on the head. Buggy so desperately craves acceptance/love that it makes him illogical and causes him to have a short fuse.

AND LOOK. OH MY GOD HIS SUBTLE REACTION...... my heart breaks for him

tldr; Buggy's big mistake in Orange Town is his overwhelming greed, which causes him to underestimate and undervalue others. In OPLA, it is his paranoia and insecurity getting in the way of logic. Both are major aspects of his character, but I love that the live action went a different route, while still staying true to his nature!

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part six)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)

Steve allows himself a brief mental breakdown in the shower when he gets home. He lets the water mix with his tears as he curls his arms around himself and wishes with everything he is that they were Eddie’s. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give right now just to be held by him again, just to feel Eddie’s arms around him one more time. All it took was a tiny kiss on the back of his hand for Steve’s skin to remember just how much it missed that feeling. Now Steve’s entire body craves Eddie’s touch, and he shakes in its absence like an addict in withdrawal. 

Then he puts himself back together, gets dressed and styles his hair and heads off to work. 

They’d defeated Vecna before he could split the world into pieces or whatever his diabolical plan had been. So while Steve’s whole world may have been torn apart, while Steve’s whole world lays bruised and bandaged and amnesic in a hospital bed, the rest of the world carries on none the wiser. The rest of the world still rents VHS tapes and has movie nights and date nights and no fucking clue that they were seconds away from being dragged down into a hell dimension a couple weeks ago, so Family Video is still open for them. Fuck that. 

“You’ve gotta handle the customers today because if someone starts asking me stupid questions I can’t promise I won’t snap at them,” Steve tells Robin as he drives them to their shift. 

“Aw, but it’s so funny when you snap at them,” Robin quips. 

“Robin.” He gives her his best I’m so fucking serious look. 

Her humor dries up immediately and she nods solemnly. “Alright, yeah. I got it.” 

Steve sighs, pulling into the parking lot. “Thank you.” 

He busies himself with cataloging and reshelving and rewinding returns while Robin takes over the customer service part of the job. It’s mindless - mind-numbing - the monotony of the tasks exactly what Steve needs to dull out the thoughts in his brain and distract himself from the way the back of his hand still tingles from Eddie’s kiss. 

When the afternoon rush dies down after a few hours and the store is all but empty, Robin sidles up next to him where he’s putting away a stack of fantasy films. “Hey.” 

Her voice cuts through his focus and nearly startles Steve out of his skin. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

“Sorry.” She grabs half the stack of tapes and starts helping him shelve. “Just wanted to check in with you, we haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk today. How are things going with Eddie?” 

“It’s fine. He’s fine,” Steve grumbles, glaring down at the tape in his hands. It’s got a dragon on the cover. He thinks Eddie would probably like it. “He still doesn’t remember me, but he’s starting to see me as a friend now at least, so.” Steve shoves the movie into its spot on the shelf. “That’s something, right?” 

Robin raises her eyebrows at the sharp bitterness in his tone and how forcefully he put the tape away. “Okay. Yeah. So I see we’re in the anger stage of grief now,” she comments. 

Steve scoffs. If this is a stage of grief, he thinks he’s been going through them in the wrong order, or maybe all at once - a neverending ebb and flow of denial and anger and depression all swirled together into one fucked up cocktail of grief. “I’m not angry,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just tired- emotionally burnt out, I don’t know. I just miss him and it’s not fair and I’m so fucking sick of feeling like this.” 

“Yeah, that’s anger, Steve,” Robin says, infuriatingly blunt. She slides the last tape in her stack into its place and then leans against the shelf. “Did something else happen to set this off, or are you just generally overwhelmed?” 

Steve sags against the shelf beside her. “Both. I don’t know. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He just- he kissed my hand this morning, that’s it, and it wrecked me.” 

“He what?” Robin questions, curiosity widening her eyes. 

“He kissed my hand,” Steve repeats. He sighs and adds context, gives her a full recount of the events of that morning.

“Oh my god?!” Robin practically squawks as she backhands Steve’s arm, which is definitely not the comforting words or touch he needs from her right now. 

“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Dude. He was flirting with you,” she tells him, eyes even wider now like she’s trying to explain to him something obvious. 

“What? No.” Steve shakes his head, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He definitely wasn’t.” 

“Ughhh,” Robin lets out a long, dramatic groan, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling down her eyes. “I cannot do this with you two again. He totally was.” She drops her hands from her face so she can use them to illustrate her point as she starts to lists off, “First of all, he literally called you daddy-” 

“As a joke,” Steve interrupts to protest. 

“Yeah, a flirtatious one,” Robin retorts. She continues, “Then he said you have a magic touch, and then his heart literally started racing for no reason-”

“Because I was stressing him out!” 

“Only after his heart rate went up in the first place, which, as I was saying, was for no reason other than the fact that you were smiling at him and holding his hand-” 

“That literally doesn’t-” 

“And then, he kissed your hand - pressed his lips to your skin - and told you that you were his good luck charm,” Robin finishes, looking smug like she’s said something novel and not just completely reiterated exactly what Steve had just told her only with more emphasis. 

He sighs wearily. “Your point?” 

“He likes you, dingus,” she says, whacking his arm again. “Don’t you get it? His mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. A lump rises in his throat, a rush of jumbled emotions chafing against his already frayed edges. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“I think you should tell him what you were to each other,” Robin suggests. 

“Right, yeah, okay, sure,” Steve scoffs, somewhere between sarcastic and hysterical. “And while we’re at it, I think you should tell Vickie that you like her. Because telling people things like that is so easy, isn’t it?” 

Robin gives him a withering stare. “That is not the same thing at all, and you know it.”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Because I know Eddie, and he would not take that news well. He already gets a little weird whenever I seem to know too much about him - if I tell him I know him biblically too-” 

“Ew, don’t tell him like that!” 

“Doesn’t matter if I tell him like that; I say we’ve been together for 9 months, he’s going to assume we’ve-” 

“God, okay, I get it!”

“See? It would freak him out,” Steve concludes, crossing his arms. “Even if he does…like me again or whatever, he definitely wouldn’t anymore and it would just generally make him uncomfortable. So I can’t tell him. I just have to keep waiting for him to remember on his own, even though it’s fucking killing me,” he says, his voice harsh as he tries to keep it from breaking. “It’s what’s best for Eddie.” 

“Steve-” Robin starts, frowning like she’s only just beginning to realize she may have pushed him too far, but whatever it is she was going to say is cut off by the ringing of the bell that announces the front door being open. 

“Customers.” Steve points his chin towards the couple who just walked in, a bitter jealousy boiling in his stomach as he watches them walk hand in hand towards the romance aisle. It’s not fucking fair. He shoves himself away from the shelves and mutters, “I’m taking my break.”

He stalks to the breakroom, closes the door, and sinks to the floor with his back against it. The tears in his eyes feel like they’re made of acid, like they would carve tracks into his skin if they were to spill down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around himself again. The thoughts in his head are made of acid too, bitter and burning and cursing everyone who gets to enjoy their lover's touch while he suffers without his. 

Steve’s brain feels corroded, corrupted. “He likes you,” Robin’s words echo there too, “his mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.” Would Eddie touch him now if he asked? Would he trace his fingers across Steve’s skin, kiss more than just the back of his hand? Steve digs his own fingers into his sides. He feels gross, he feels rotten. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of Eddie without him knowing the truth, to take advantage of him like that. It wouldn’t be the same, anyways. The superficial touch of a boy with the beginnings of a crush is not the tender lover’s caress that Steve craves. 

That is if Robin is even right about Eddie redeveloping feelings. Which she probably isn’t.

Steve’s just being stupid and selfish again. He wants to remove his brain from his skull so he can stop thinking, tear his heart from his chest so he can stop feeling; both so burned and decayed he thinks if he held them in his hands they would dissolve and crumble to dust and ash and sludge between his fingers. 

Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve forces himself to be fine. He peels himself off the breakroom floor and returns to work, continues the tedious tasks that he hopes will numb him out again. 

Robin catches his eye from across the room where she’s sorting a customer’s cash at the register. I’m sorry, her expression says, I didn’t mean to make you upset. 

Steve gives a tiny shake of his head and a small smile. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, his own expression reassures her. You meant well. I’m not mad at you. 

They don’t talk about Eddie again that day. The next time there’s a lull in customers and they’re able to chat again, Steve tells Robin he honestly just needs a distraction right now, and he lets her ramble on about Vickie and band and school and her impending graduation and the movie she watched last night and whatever other random thoughts are bouncing around that hyperactive head of hers. Her voice fills in the cracks in Steve’s brain, keeps it from falling apart completely. She’s always been good at that, and he’s grateful for it. 

Then he drops Robin off after work and he drives away alone in silence because all the songs on the radio are love songs, and he drives back to the hospital - back to the source of his grief again and again like some sort of fucking masochist - because Eddie needs him. Because Steve loves him.

~

Eddie cannot help the way his face all but beams the second Steve walks back into his room that evening. “There you are, Stevie! How was work?”

Steve returns the smile, genuine, but there’s a tiredness to it. “It was alright. Bit boring, really, uneventful. How are you doing?” 

“I’m good,” Eddie says, adding with a jaunty grin, “All the better now that you’re back.” 

It comes out a bit more flirtatious than he intended, but thankfully Steve just laughs it off. “Alright, smoothtalker,” he scoffs through a chuckle as he takes his usual seat by the bed. “It’s nice to see you again too.”

“Oh, the actual doctor came in to talk to me today. Good news, don’t worry,” Eddie tells him, the last bit tacked on quickly before that concerned crease can appear between Steve’s brows. “She says I’m healing up nicely, and I might be able to be discharged soon. A few more days’ observation and then they're gonna see how well I can actually move since, you know, the bats chewed through half the muscles in one of my legs. But, yeah, I could be out of here by the end of next week.” 

“That’s great, Eddie!” Steve brightens. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles. “I can’t wait to be somewhere familiar, feel normal again. Or, well,” he amends, smile falling a little as he realizes, “as normal as I can feel given that I’ll probably be walking with a limp for the rest of my life and be covered in nasty scars all over.” 

A strange expression crosses Steve’s face then, something happy and sad and sympathetic all at once, and his voice is soft as he says, “We’ll match.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

“The scars,” Steve clarifies. “The bats got me too, you know. I was lucky, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for you, but, uh- yeah, we’ll match. See?” He stands and pulls his shirt up a bit. 

Eddie’s heart rate immediately kicks up again, blood growing warm, as his eyes snap to Steve’s stomach, to skin and muscle and body hair and- oh. Two giant, jagged red scabs cover Steve’s sides, the edges fading into skin bumpy and pink and white with the beginnings of scarring. The bite on Eddie’s own side twinges in sympathy. “That’s-” He swallows back the word hot, and breathes out instead, “Holy shit.” Without really thinking, he finds himself reaching out to skim his fingers over the ridges of Steve’s scars. 

Steve gasps - full body shudders - at the touch, and Eddie instantly pulls his hand back, afraid he’s hurt him. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve manages, though it sounds a bit shaky. “You didn’t hurt me, I just- I wasn’t expecting it.” 

Eddie tentatively starts to reach back out; Steve nods. He slowly traces the outline of the wound again, every uneven edge, feeling the evidence of hurt and the evidence of healing and the ripple of each breath Steve takes - breaths that echo in the quiet that falls between them. Eddie doesn’t realize just how intimate this silence has become as he runs his hands across Steve’s skin, until he glances up to find Steve just…watching him. It’s impossible to tell exactly what emotion is behind his eyes, but it’s intense and it’s devastating, and Eddie suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. 

“Uh-” A nervous laugh stutters out of him. He rescinds his touch. “Twin scars, huh?” he remarks, cracking a crooked smile and attempting to change this strange, suffocating energy with a joke. “Hell of a matching tattoo. Next time let’s just exchange friendship bracelets like normal people do, yeah?”

Steve huffs, a short burst of laughter that escapes from his chest like it’s been punched out of him. “Since when have you ever done anything like a normal person?” he teases in return as he pulls his shirt back down.

Just like that, blown away by Steve’s playful smile, the weird tension lifts. Eddie grins back. “Alright, fair point.” He adds, “Those are gonna be some pretty metal scars, Stevie.”

“Not as metal as yours,” Steve says warmly, settling back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “You’re the one that literally survived death, Ed. It doesn’t get any more metal than that.” 

“Now who’s the smoothtalker?” Eddie smirks, and he hopes he isn’t blushing. Steve Harrington calling him metal with so much pride and affection in his voice is doing numbers on his heart. Curse this stupid fucking crush.

Steve eyes divert briefly to the heart monitor, which has not once calmed down since the second he’d lifted up his shirt, and Eddie is so sure that he knows then, that he’s finally made the connection between what’s got Eddie’s heart racing, but he doesn’t say anything, just laughs it off again, smiling like everything’s completely normal as he looks back at Eddie and rolls his eyes and mutters in return, “Shut up.” 

“Make me,” Eddie mumbles, not quick enough to bite back the words before they fall from his mouth, only managing to lower his voice enough that maybe Steve didn’t hear him. 

“What?” 

“TV?” Eddie grabs the remote, pretends like that’s what he’d said in the first place. Real smooth. 

“Oh, sure.” Steve shrugs. If he noticed Eddie’s slip, he gives no indication of it. 

Eddie turns on the TV and they spend the next hour or so laughing and making fun of the bad acting on the show that’s playing. Easy, normal, platonic. Eddie’s heart rate stabilizes, remaining even so long as he doesn’t look too long at Steve’s smile. 

When sleep starts lapping at Eddie’s consciousness, he doesn’t fear it anymore. Silently, he holds out his hand, and Steve takes it, wrapping him in the warmth and protection that allows Eddie to let himself drift off undaunted. 

And in his dreams his hands skate across Steve’s skin again.

(part seven)

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[oddberryshortcake]

I WAS RIGHT SILVER IS THE KNIGHT OF DAWN’S SON AND HE WAS BORN IN THE PAST AND MOST DEFINITELY IN CURSED SLEEP AAAAAAAA

I’m gonna throw up

He used to be blonde but it changed to Silver with Lilia’s blessing 😭😭

[thestuffedalligator]

Recipes from the World of Tolkien. The Unofficial Ted Lasso Cookbook. Avatar: The Official Cookbook of Pandora. The Princess Bride Official Cookbook. Seinfeld: The Official Cookbook. Magic the Gathering: Cuisines of the Multiverse. God of War: The Official Cookbook of the Nine Realms. The Official D&D Cookbook. The Witcher Official Cookbook. Sonic the Hedgehog: The Official Cookbook. FRIENDS: The Official Cookbook. The Official Bridgerton Guide to Entertaining. Star Wars: The Official Cookbook. The Unofficial Home Alone Cookbook. What the fuck is going on

[sualne]

"..................."

[sskk-manifesto]

[glazeliights]

mutual (attempted and unintentional) killings

[swxxtcidxr]

I was talking to a friend today and we were both talking about how awful of reading slumps we are in right now and I had ended up saying something like “Well at least I’m writing right now!”

They asked me if I was writing as is actually getting the content in order on paper with plot, chapter breakdowns, objectives and all that jazz or was I writing as in making the pinterest boards and cute character sheets with only a plot and whim I’ll never complete.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so betrayed and exposed in my life before.

[rakiah]

You can’t imagine how I cried for that damn acorn bracelet. I knew it but I still cried for it D A M N

[coolbattlegirl]

Malleus is observing everyone’s dreams, right?

So… I might be wrong about this, but if he does see everything that’s going on, then that would mean that he most likely saw the whole, “Silver is the son of the person who killed my mother” thing.

But when he finally does manage to invade the dream, the only people that’s he furious at is the senate and his grandmother.

Of course, there is a possibility that Malleus couldn’t see what was going on since he didn’t exist in that dream yet.

But I like to think that if he saw the moment, he didn’t care about that (since it’s hard to miss something you never had) because Silver would always be his brother, no matter who his parents were 🥲

[rokso-o]

AND guess what’s also back? me. specifically, me SIMPING. HIM !!!!!!! the vibe is simply IMMACULATE. the colour scheme???? the blood on the walls???? his stance????? his facial expressions??????? his untied bow tie ???????? his unbuttoned shirt ????? SLUTTY WAIST?????? HIS POSE?????? THE WAY HE WAS SITTING?????????????????

and we also had our shining shimmering crown prince from today’s update

also.... I GOT VICROSS CRUMBS...... babe it’s not even a properly drawn one but do i appreciate it? YEA..... did i get a little heart skip??? MAYBE SO! (HE CAME HOMEEEEEEE)

[chrollosnenfish]

This last chapter was amazing (Blue Lock)

Not only was the fact that both Isagi and Hiori believed in each other enough to know what the other person would do, but the goal was an accumulation of everything that has brought them to this moment. I know some people are saying that they were underwhelmed with the goal, but I think it was absolutely perfect. I can’t wait to read the next chapters.

Also, we’re finally back to our homoerotic shounen roots (Bachira and Karasu are probably seething right now)

[oddberryshortcake]

Oh lord he is suffering

[number1yisuchongfan]

I like drawing Scout in cunty outfits in my Incubus Au, it makes him dressing causal and masc more… him, instead of putting on an act

Each one on its own

[spifflocated]

Just finished Ch 1 of Moby Dick and I’m already obsessed. I was familiar with “Call me Ishmael” but *nothing* could prepare me for the second half of the first chapter.

It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.

I mean… how am I meant to respond to that? He’s like a chronically depressed Bertie Wooster, only with knocking off hats rather than stealing policemen’s helmets. 10/10 no notes