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smash-chu · 3 years

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As i've stated before i've wanted to make a Viva Piñata iceberg, and while i've enjoyed putting stuff on it and writing down some info on each point i need some help with putting more stuff on here! I'm sure some of you have some neat things, theories or rumors that would go on here, do send those my way (preferably with a explanation, too)

Explanation on each point can be found below

The TV show - Some people’s first exposure to the franchise was the TV show, made to go alongside the games as a sort of advertisement. It was made by 4Kids and had a total of 2 seasons, starring the 4 main characters: Hudson Horstachio, Franklin Fizzlybear, Paulie Pretztail and Fergy Fudgehog.

Rare games easter eggs - There are plenty of easter eggs to other Rare games throughout Viva Piñata, the easiest ones to note are the broken arcade cabinets found in the first game as well as the various nods to Banjo Kazooie - such as the Bird and Bear statue, Mumbo statue, Breegull backpack and Bottle’s Glasses. Stardos is Dastardos - The game never tells you this directly, but it’s an easy and obvious conclusion to make.

Twingersnaps and Fourheads - Without using a guide or looking it up you may actually be baffled on how to acquire these piñatas in game. There is no obvious hint in game to tell you to hit the Syrupent egg before it hatches on the third bounce, which means you either have to figure it out through experimentation or by looking it up.

Leafos False Rumors - Leafos is meant to give you good advice to help you out while you play the game if you talk to her, however not all information she gives is true. Some rumors include putting a Badgesicle in water will turn it into a Sweetooth, feeding a Doenut to a Pretztail turns it into a Mallowolf and so on. None of these actually work.

Piñatas aren’t permanently broken - When a piñata is broken it is magically repaired, at least when on Piñata island, reforming at the edge of a garden when broken at one. It is stated that piñatas are repaired after having been sent to parties, which would potentially mean that piñatas only magically repair themselves when on the island.

The PC Port - Not very well advertised, there was a PC port released for the first Viva Piñata game. There are a couple of differences between the port and the original Xbox 360 release, which are touched upon later.

Piñatas are genderless - Technically no piñata is given a gender in game, all piñatas function the same. While in the show gendered piñatas are present it could potentially be that piñatas are naturally genderless and then if they are sapient can choose genders which fit their identity.

Burger king toys - A bundle of burger king exclusive plastic toys of piñatas were made and sold alongside the children's meals, some of the piñatas were Elephanilla, Sparrowmint, Goobaa and so forth. These toys are nowadays rare and sought after by people who collect the very small amount of official Viva Piñata merch that exists.

Wildcards - Wildcard piñatas are unique piñatas that have a feature which makes it stand out next to others of its species. There are a total of 3 variants of wildcards per piñata, some being exclusively gained through trading piñatas online. In the original game wildcards were extremely rare and there was only one variant, while they were made easier to acquire in TiP.

Both the games and show are canon - Just what it says, according to the creators both the games and show are canon to Viva Piñata lore. This makes for some strange implications, but that is for later.

TiP Fence Glitch / Exploit - A sort of well known glitch often used while playing Viva Piñata Trouble in Paradise. Fences normally do not stop Ruffians and Professor Pester from entering your garden, as they simply destroy them when they’re in the way. However, if arranged in a specific pattern in the area next to the volcano they enter from, the fence will make them permanently stuck. They will be stopped at the very edge of the garden at the fence, unable to properly enter or do anything. This can occur unintentionally as well in both the original game and TiP, as sometimes Ruffians and Professor Pester get stuck on seemingly random things and become unable to do anything.

Domesticated piñatas becoming un-domesticated - A strange difference between the original game and TiP is the fact that you can no longer buy domesticated piñatas from the Paper Pet’s store. Instead of being purchased they simply appear in the wild like any other wild piñata, whether this implies that these piñatas are no longer considered domesticated or is just a game design choice is unclear.

Piñata cards - In Viva Piñata Trouble in Paradise there is a function which is called Piñata Vision, which utilizes the Xbox Live Vision camera. By scanning the card you can get the piñata or item displayed on the card, some of these cards feature the developers in the form of a piñata and characters from other games.

Language Dubs - The PC port of the original game has a lot of language dubs, translated into languages such as Dutch, Swedish, Spanish, Chinese and more. Some of these do not extend to the UI oddly enough, while for the majority of translations all of the game’s features are translated accordingly, with the exception of piñata names. The language chosen is determined by the language set for the computer, so if you want the game in a specific language you’d need to change the language of the computer before installing it.

PC port graphical downgrades - Oddly enough the PC port has some graphical differences compared to the original Xbox 360 release. Mostly the graphics being downgraded, even on the highest settings, such as the lighting and texture resolution on objects and the environment.

Some piñatas are sapient, others not - Because of the fact that both the show and games are canon makes some things kind of weird. Though even if the show wasn’t canon this would still be a thing - as thanks to the existence of Langston and some of the show characters appearing in the DS game. Most piñatas in the games act like animals and cannot speak, however in the show and with Langston they are very much as sapient as a human. What causes a piñata of the same species to be sapient or not? Why does no character in the game acknowledge this strange difference? We don’t know.

Magic is real - In the Viva Piñata universe, at least on Piñata Island, magic exists. Seen in the form of Leafos and Jardinero summoning items, Jack transforming items into other things, Seedos and other characters teleporting and both Dastardos and Storkos being able to fly. There are other examples of magic, nobody really explains why magic exists or to what extent it is used or capable of being, but simply something that is commonplace on Piñata Island. If magic exists in other places is unknown.

The DS game - Known as Viva Piñata Pocket Paradise, the DS game came out after both the original game and TiP. It features a mix of piñatas from both the other games, however not all of them, because of the limitations of being on the DS. It is pretty much just another Viva Piñata game where you tend to a garden, now using the touchscreen to use your tools and so on.

How the fuck does the family not recognize Dastardos as Stardos - A strange phenomenon considering at least Jardinero considers Dastardos familiar, but apparently none of the other family members have been able to figure out that Dastardos is in fact Stardos. Whether this is them just being very oblivious or not it’s still sad that they can’t even recognize their own family member after being corrupted. This is also even more strange considering Dastardos lives literally across the garden from his family, how have they not been able to tell by now?

Langston taking over the position of authority in piñata central from Jeffe - Apparently Jeffe used to be in charge of the piñata central and was later kicked off his position and replaced by Langston, this is to reflect how Jeffe was originally planned as the head of the piñata central before being replaced by Langston as influenced by the show. Why he was kicked off his position is uncertain, but theorized to be because of the fact that he turned into a piñata or half piñata from ingesting too much candy - though why this would influence him being kicked off i’m not sure. Maybe he abused the central for his own gain?

“They all wear masks, some are just more elaborate than others” - A statement from a developer when asked about the masks worn by the humanoid characters in the games, whether they’re their actual heads or some kinda mask. This was meant to clarify that all the human characters are fully human, however it still leaves some things unanswered - such as if they are masks then why can we not see Fannie Franker’s face inside the mailbox on her head? Or what does that entail for the Ruffians whose bodies are pretty much completely covered in their masks.

Squazzil name debate - A reference to how in game Leafos mentions that the name for the Squazzil was debated before you, the player, arrived at the island. Being apparently called Nonsquirrel as they were trying to figure out a name for the species. Whether this is true or not is uncertain, as Leafos does state untrue rumors sometimes.

The side characters in P-Factor - P-Factor is a minigame in TiP that is you showing off your piñata in a contest against other players or npcs. This minigame features both already existing npcs, such Leafos for example, as well as some made exclusively for the minigames. Some of these npcs include Maxime, Babochka, Nana Urf and more. They also make an appearance in the Great Piñata Paperchase minigame, however they are much more prominently presented in the P-Factor minigame.

Unknown blue flower - There is a blue flower which appears outside of the garden space as a decoration in the original game. This blue flower is not a flower which appears anywhere else, and cannot be planted in the garden either. Most of the flowers and trees found outside the garden space are plants that are available for the player, but this one flower is unique in that it isn’t part of those plants.

Leafos might be a lesbian - As it is very much implied that Leafos is the one who writes the entries for the items, objects, characters and piñatas in the journal one can glean interesting information and thoughts about Leafos. In the entry for the Pink Flutterscotch there is the sentence “A girl (that I may or may not have liked) once told me that the Pink Flutterscotch reminded her of a kiss.” Some people take this as an implication that Leafos may be a lesbian and or bi, which i personally think would be neat.

Unused piñata concepts - There are plenty of piñatas that never made it into any of the games, as one would expect. Examples of piñatas that never appear in the game but had concepts made for them are a Giraffe, a Platypus that would’ve been acquired by breeding a Quackberry and Sweetooth together, a Hammerhead shark with a sour form and a Kangaroo. A goldfish piñata was also part of concepts, however this piñata does appear in the game - as the fish in the bowl on Miss Petulas head.

Banjo Kazooie Mountains - One of the rarer (hah) easter eggs to spot in the original game, in the distance across the swamp where Seedos lives one can see a mountain which has Banjo and Kazooie carved into the mountain. This is much easier to see in the Xbox 360 version compared to the PC port, because of the higher resolution textures.

Silent piñatas - Every piñata is voice acted, or are they? One might notice that there are two, well technically eleven, piñatas that are completely silent. The Flutterscotches and Motdrops are fully silent, not making any noise. Why this is is uncertain, as other bug piñatas do have noises, such as the Taffly and Sweetle. It may be because normally no noise is associated with butterflies or moths in real life, or it may be because these piñatas are meant to be more akin to decorational than a “proper” piñata.

Dragonache flying away glitch - A glitch which is easily done in game, by making the dragonache engage in a fight with another piñata and using the menu to send it off from the garden. By opening the fighting view, which can be accessed to monitor the fight separate from the normal camera view, it will focus in on the two piñatas. The camera will become strange as the Dragonache flies away from the garden, letting you see out of bounds and see details otherwise obscured by things in the background around the garden. I recommend doing this after having done at least one mandatory fight beforehand, as you are forced to watch the first fight that occurs and will unable to do anything till it is finished. Thus if you do this glitch while forced to watch it you will be unable to access the rest of your garden for quite some time.

Giant Zumbug glitch - Not certain if a glitch or hack, there have been reports of a giant Zumbug in TiP which is acquired through unknown means. This giant Zumbug can be sent through the Xbox Live service, but more than that is not known.

Professor Pester is legit evil and fucked up - Even though he’s presented in the show as a bumbling idiot of a villain, he has done a lot of fucked up shit. Not only does he employ Ruffians to mess up other people’s gardens, including Jardinero’s garden, he is also the reason why sour piñatas exist. Making a sour goop which is used for creating sour candy, it is a candy which makes anyone who eats it sick and possibly corrupts them - this is evident in how he corrupted Stardos by giving him sour candy. He may have rather bland goals as a villain, simply wanting complete control of the piñata island and its piñatas, but he’s done some pretty messed up stuff to try and accomplish this goal.

Extra color variants - All piñatas, except for the Flutterscotches, have three color variants that can be acquired by feeding the piñata specific things. However, there are piñatas that have more variants than others, through being caught in the Pinartic or Dessert Desert, and then feeding those the same things. This will cause them to gain a different tint of color compared to their normal counterparts, as thanks to having a different default color because of being from a different region.

Giant and tiny seeds - You can gain a plethora of things from the mine, which includes seeds. Sometimes when the mine uncovers seeds there is a chance for the seed to either be bigger or smaller than normal, these seeds work exactly like their normal sized versions, but sell for different prices. The size difference can vary wildly, with really big seeds and incredibly tiny seeds that are hard to see.

Ivor has two mouths - Something that may be easily missed, but Ivor Bargain does as a matter of fact have two mouths. One for each “face” he has, for when he’s a beggar and a merchant, he can flip between the two by spinning his head, flipping his head up or down. This is a little freaky, and completely glanced over in game, left unexplained why he has two mouths or can flip his head upside down with no consequences.

Leafos is vegan - A very recent thing which has been observed through the rare cookbook that has been released, which features an array of rare game inspired recipes. Recipes which are vegan or vegan friendly are marked with “Leafos vegan approved”, which implies that Leafos is vegan.

Humans can become piñatas rumor - In game this is presented in TiP with Jeffe, which is a human piñata or a half human half piñata, he states “If you eat enough candy and pull a face in the wind you'll become a piñata, I never want to see another piece of candy let alone a piñata full of it.” as part of dialogue during P-Factor. We cannot confirm whether this is actually true or not, but if Jeffe’s statement is true then it would imply that humans can turn into piñatas. This in turn creates a lot of questions, such as why does this happen? Has this happened to people outside of Piñata Island? Is this something exclusive to just the island or candy from the living piñatas? Can this happen with animals as well?

Tamed sour piñatas reverting via mail - A gameplay mechanic which is not commonly seen is the fact that tamed sour piñatas can revert back to a sour state. This occurs when you send a tamed sour piñata to a player which hasn’t unlocked the tamed version of that piñata, when the piñata is taken out of its mailed box it will be the sour version. This happens in all the main games, including Pocket Paradise as well.

Dastardos and Seedos special interaction - I have not personally seen this interaction but many have reported Dastardos and Seedos having an interaction with each other in game. If people want to elaborate on this or have footage of it that’d be great.

Viva Piñata Candy Stash - There are a few piñata games which aren’t widely known, for example this Adobe Flash tower defense game developed and published by 4Kids TV, known as Viva Piñata Candy Stash. This game features Professor Pester trying to steal the player’s candy using Ruffian robots, and to stop him the player builds towers invented by piñata characters from the tv show.

Piñata mascot suits - As part of promotions and promotion material there exists mascot suits of some piñatas, such as the Horstachio, Pretztail and Fudgehog. Whether these suits are kept in storage somewhere or have been thrown away we do not know.

#viva pinata #viva piñata #vp #iceberg #iceberg meme #yes i actually sat down n tried to make this #i feel like one can add more stuff but also i dunno what exactly #so do give suggestions if you have em #and if i should remove a point or replace it

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nicknellie · 3 years

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Anonymous requested: It would be really cool if you could do a library AU! Maybe one of them works at a library and they keep running into each other or something.

I have been unbelievably excited to write this one, I’m so happy I’ve finally got around to it! This is where my mind went as soon as I read the prompt, I really hope you enjoy it! (If anyone wants to suggest a prompt for a part 2 I’d be more than happy to do that once I reopen requests.)

Featuring he/they Willie because I really need to include that headcanon in my writing more often. Willie’s pronouns alternate throughout.

Books on Boards

Usually it was Reggie whose excuses began with “In my defence…”

“In my defence, I couldn’t see where I was going… In my defence, I forgot water and electricity don’t mix… In my defence, if Luke didn’t want to be shot with a Nerf gun then he shouldn’t have been standing in my way…”

Sometimes it was Luke.

“In my defence, no one told me not to… In my defence, I didn’t realise it could go this horribly wrong… In my defence, I did try to do it properly and I don’t know how it blew up…”

On rare occasion, it was Julie.

“In my defence, I was a little lost in my own head… In my defence, I’m terrible at comebacks… In my defence, I have an extremely annoying boyfriend and he was trying to talk to me about our new setlist the whole time which was very distracting…”

But it was never Alex.

Until now.

“In my defence,” Alex began, raising a hand and talking over Julie, Luke, and Reggie’s shouts, “I have to go to the library a lot. I’m an English major and it’s where all the books are!”

“But you don’t need to be at the library for five hours a day,” Luke countered.

Alex sighed. He had a point, and Alex had no excuse this time. Well, that wasn’t strictly true – his excuse was an adorable library assistant who just so happened to be very friendly to Alex and, by some miracle, worked whenever Alex needed to study. But he couldn’t just admit that to his friends, each of whom was staring at him with flat disbelief.

The assistant’s name was Willie and he was simply wonderful. The first time Alex had met him had been right at the start of his first semester – he had never been to the university’s library before and it was bigger than the one at Alexandria, so he was unbelievably lost. Alex had half-convinced himself that he would be stuck there forever, doomed to wander between the shelves looking for the section he needed, eventually becoming a ghost and haunting the place, still trying to locate his books.

Enter Willie. They had scared Alex half to death – in Alex’s defence, he hadn’t expected to be knocked off his feet by someone on a skateboard in the middle of a library the size of Buckingham Palace. And yet, he had landed on the floor, flat on his face and winded, understandably startled. As he scrambled to his feet, he heard his assailant exclaim, “Aw… you dinged my board!”

Alex had started to berate him but stopped in his tracks when he looked at the guy and realised that he had been knocked to the floor by a literal angel. His long dark hair was majestically swept to one side and tucked behind his ear, his soft eyes were sparkling, and he had a lopsided smile on his face despite the fact that Alex had been shouting at him just a second earlier (well, whisper-shouting at him – they were in a library, after all).

“Sorry,” they had said, picking up their board. “I didn’t see you there. Books were in the way.” He had pointed to a heap of books now strewn across the floor, some splayed open, some with ripped pages. Alex realised that he had been carrying the books stacked up in front of him, skating along with them.

“Oh!” Alex exclaimed, bending down to help pick the books up. “No, sorry, it’s fine. I was just stood there. I’m a little lost, no problem, my fault.”

Together they had stacked the books back up, and Willie heaved the stack onto a nearby table before introducing himself. Alex did the same, shaking Willie’s hand and trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach – he couldn’t let himself get distracted by a cute guy with a skateboard, not while he still had all his books to find in the labyrinthine library.

“So,” Willie had said conversationally, leaning back against the table. “You said you were lost? Anything specific you need to find?”

Alex dug around in his fanny pack before pulling out the list he’d scribbled down. “Yeah, all of these. Do you know where they are?”

“I’d be a pretty terrible librarian if I didn’t,” Willie chuckled. At Alex’s bewildered look, he had raised an eyebrow and said, “I’m not a terrible librarian. I’m actually really good at it. I mean, I don’t usually knock over customers, but these things happen.”

“Oh,” Alex said, clocking on too late. It made sense – of course that was why Willie had been carrying so many books, he was a librarian. Alex didn’t know how he hadn’t guessed before. “Right, I get it, because of the books and the… Right, okay. What about the, uh… the skateboard?”

Willie had picked up their board, smiled at it fondly. “It helps me get around faster. This place is huge, man, you don’t seriously expect me to walk around it all day? Anyway, come with me, I’ll take you to those books.”

That had been five weeks ago.

It wasn’t Alex’s fault that Willie was incredibly cute. It wasn’t Alex’s fault that Willie’s shifts happened to perfectly align with his studying time. But he couldn’t deny that it was his fault that he had stayed there for hours on end every day since, talking to Willie about everything and nothing. And it was also his fault that he had done that very same thing today, checked his watch and seen that he was an hour late for band practise, and kept talking to Willie anyway.

Usually, Alex thought about consequences, but he had been having so much fun talking to Willie that day that he hadn’t considered them. Now those consequences had caught up with him in the form of one very angry rock band.

“Alex,” Luke said imploringly, “you’ve got to get your head in the game! We have a load of gigs coming up, really important ones–”

“We do?” Reggie interrupted, looking baffled. “I thought we’ve got that one at the old folks’ home and then that’s it for, like, a month?”

Luke waved him away. “That’s not the point. These gigs are just as important as any big ones. Dude, we’ve got to build up our repertoire so that we can start playing bigger venues, but that’s not going to happen if our drummer is too caught up in his studies!”

Alex inwardly sighed with relief. At least Luke thought the reason he was staying at the library so often was because he was working hard, not because he was talking to Willie. He would have preferred his tiny little crush on Willie stayed secret for a little longer; whenever Luke found out that Alex or Reggie liked someone, he became unbearable.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if Julie had other ideas.

She huffed an incredulous laugh, saying, “You seriously think he’s staying late because he’s studying?”

Luke nodded, confused, as Reggie gestured to Alex and said, “Of course he is, what other reason could there be?”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, nodding. He knew that the hitch in his voice was unconvincing – in his defence, he’d never been a good liar. “What other reason could there be?”

Julie raised a challenging eyebrow, but the smirk on her face told Alex that she knew she had already won. “Alex, can I just ask, who was working at the library today?”

Alex cleared his throat and tried for nonchalance when he said, “Willie.”

“You mean the good-looking skater-boy history major, right?” Julie said slyly.

Alex shrugged. “Yeah. I guess he is those things.”

Julie nodded slowly. Luke and Reggie were watching the interaction carefully, though it didn’t seem like the realisation had dawned on either of them yet.

“And who was working last Friday when you didn’t arrive back here until almost ten p.m.?” Julie asked.

“Willie,” Alex said under his breath, avoiding eye contact.

“Right,” Julie replied. “And what about Tuesday when you missed three lectures and were smiling too much to even care about how much that’ll drop your grade?”

Alex scowled and didn’t say anything. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know the answer, and judging by the ‘O’ shape Reggie’s mouth was making and the wide grin that had made itself at home on Luke’s face, they had figured it out too.

“Bro,” Luke said excitedly, “you’ve got a crush on Willie!”

“No,” Alex spluttered, “no, I do not. We just happen to get on really well and he’s always working when I need to study.”

“But he is the reason you’re always there, isn’t he?” Reggie prompted.

Alex shrugged. “I guess,” he mumbled.

Luke leapt up, clamped his hands onto Alex’s shoulders and jumped up and down like an over-excited puppy. The ecstatic smile on Luke’s face didn’t quite make up for how annoying it was.

“Dude,” he said emphatically, “you’ve gotta ask him out!”

“Don’t be silly,” Alex said, shaking his head, “it’s not like that.”

“It’s like that,” Julie, Luke and Reggie chorused. Alex just rolled his eyes.

“Look, Alex,” Julie said. He looked past Luke to her, but only because in situations like this she tended to be the voice of reason. “I actually agree with Luke.”

Apparently, that day she was taking a break from being the voice of reason.

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Julie interrupted him. “Hear me out. No matter what you say, you’re clearly head over heels for this guy. And it is distracting you – we’re two hours into rehearsal and you haven’t even set up your kit. If you ask him out and he says yes then you can hang out with him at other times as boyfriends, not when you’re meant to be spending time with us. If he says no, you can get him out of your mind and move on, getting your mind back on the band. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Again, Alex tried to respond, but this time Reggie and Luke both yelled over him.

“No!” Reggie shouted. “We agreed never to ask him that question again!”

“Have you forgotten last time?” Luke questioned furiously. “That was the longest three hours of my life!”

Julie held her hands up. “Sorry, sorry, it slipped my mind.”

“Okay,” Alex said, ignoring them and deciding to get the conversation back on track. “Even if I did do that, there’s so many things that could go wrong. I don’t know if he’s into guys, and if he says no for any reason at all then I can never go back to the library.”

Luke shook his head. “Dude, Willie’s the head of the university’s LGBTQ+ Society and he introduces himself as ‘Willie, he/they, gay’ at the start of each session.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been a couple of times. Hey, wait, we should all go, it’s actually super chill and–”

“It sounds great, Luke, but we’ll talk about it later,” Julie said, easily calming him as he started getting over-excited again. “Right now we have other things to focus on. Alex, if Luke’s right then Willie is definitely into guys. And from the way you’ve gushed about him and your conversations without realising it, I’d say he definitely has a thing for you. And he seems cool – I’m sure even if he said no then he’d act completely normally around you.”

“Yeah,” Reggie agreed, “the guy doesn’t find anything awkward. Last week I was looking through a book for my psychology class and just as I flicked to a… questionable page, he came up behind me. He just laughed it off and then offered to sign it out for me once I was done looking through it.”

Alex thought about it for a moment. It sounded too good to be true. Luke said that Willie was into guys, Julie said they might like Alex, Reggie said that they’d be cool with it no matter what… Good things like this didn’t happen to Alex too often.

“I’ll think about it,” he said. The others sighed, Reggie throwing up his hands with exasperation. “I will! I’ll think. But we should get to rehearsing.”

Almost two and a half hours later than they should have, the band finally set up their instruments and Alex counted them in.

He was at the library. Again. He was always at the library these days, just this time he really did need to be working. He had a big assessment coming up and needed to cram some last-minute studying in.

It would have been a lot easier if he hadn’t been trying to avoid Willie the entire time.

In Alex’s defence, it felt like the most reasonable option. Sure, he could see Willie and ask him out, but if Willie rejected him then he wasn’t sure he’d ever live it down despite his friends’ reassurances. He could have seen Willie and not asked him out, but then he’d be living in constant wonder of what could happen. So he had elected to do the sensible thing and just not see them at all.

It had been going well for the most part. His legs were beginning to ache from springing himself behind bookcases whenever he caught a glimpse of Willie, but it was worth it. Besides – he needed to focus, and an angelic librarian wasn’t about to help him do that.

He made his fatal error when trying to exit the library.

He had been so caught up in scanning the surrounding area for Willie that he hadn’t been looking ahead, or down at the floor. He heard the shout of, “Watch out!” too late.

Alex stepped forward, his foot landed on a skateboard, and he was sent flying down to the ground, landing hard on his coccyx. Pain shot up his back and he let out an agonised groan which earned him a “Shhhh!” from a tired-looking student sat at the nearest table.

“Alex,” came the same voice who had shouted the warning, the voice Alex now recognised as Willie’s. So much for avoiding him. Willie came and crouched down beside Alex where he was still laying on the floor, leaning over him, looking concerned. “Hey, Alex, you alright? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left my board lying there, I was only restocking that shelf.”

Groaning, Alex eased himself into a sitting position. Willie sat back, still looking worried.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Alex lied. His coccyx was killing him. “It’s fine. I won’t sue or demand you get fired or anything.”

Willie chuckled lightly and then held out his hand. Alex took it automatically and was a little startled when Willie began pulling him to his feet – maybe it was the shock, but he had thought the hand holding was them simply having a moment. But no, of course it was too good to be true. Willie let go of his hand the moment they were both stood and then bent to pick up his board.

“I hadn’t seen you,” Willie said. “Where’ve you been hiding?”

Alex shrugged. “Oh, nowhere. Just… doing my English work. In the quiet area.”

Nodding, Willie replied with something that made Alex’s blood run cold.

“That’s cool. It’s just that I was just talking to Luke a minute ago and he said there was something you wanted to ask me?”

Eyes wide, jaw open in shock, Alex looked behind Willie to where they had pointed. Sure enough, standing by the end of a nearby bookcase with his nose in a book (which he was clearly not reading because it was upside down) was Luke. He gave Alex a nervous wave when he saw him looking.

Trying not to sound murderous, Alex said, “Yeah. There was something.”

He realised too late that hadn’t been what he was planning to say.

“Yeah? What is it?” Willie asked with a smile.

Alex’s eyes darted from Willie to Luke and back again, then up to the ceiling and around the library for inspiration, and then they landed on his own wrist and the rainbow bracelet wrapped around it.

“I – well, we, me and my friends – we were wondering if there would be any space for us to join the LGBTQ+ Society. Luke mentioned you’re the head so I figured there’s no one better to ask than you. Right?”

Willie blinked, face faltering for just a moment. Alex tried not to panic – had he said the wrong thing, had he somehow offended Willie? But the look was gone quick enough for Alex to convince himself he’d imagined it, replaced by his radiant smile.

“Yeah, the more the merrier,” he said. But then he cleared his throat and added, “You’re sure that’s it?”

Swallowing nervously, Alex cast another glance to Luke who had given up the pretence of reading and was now urgently gesturing at Willie, making kissy faces, and mouthing words Alex couldn’t understand – but he got the message.

“Okay, no, there was one more thing,” he said quietly.

Willie tucked his hair behind his ear and Alex’s eyes caught momentarily on his earring.

“I was wondering,” he began, slow but steady, “if you would… by any chance… And you can say no, I won’t be offended! It’s just, I would really like to go on a date with you. And if you would like to go on a date with me then I think we should. Do that. Go on a date. Together. If you want?”

As awkward as it felt, Alex maintained eye contact – he was glad he did, because a moment later Willie’s face split in a beautiful grin that didn’t look mocking or apologetic, it looked genuinely happy.

“Yes,” Willie said, laughing quietly. “Yes, I do want that.”

Alex sighed with relief. “Thank god. I’m going to kill Luke.”

“Don’t,” Willie said, shaking his head. “I can’t have you getting arrested before I get to go on a date with you.”

“What about after the date?” Alex joked.

“Yeah, man, that’s fine.” Willie laughed but after a moment their expression softened. “I’m really glad you asked. I was going to, but I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.”

Alex scratched at the back of his head. “Yeah. That’s the same reason it took me so long to do the actual asking.”

“Well,” said Willie, “that doesn’t matter now. Does Friday work for you?”

Alex’s only form of a social life was hanging out with the band, and his plans for Friday consisted largely of sitting in his and Reggie’s shared dorm room, eating cold pizza and watching reruns of Friends.

“Yeah,” he said coolly, “I can probably make it work. Might have to reschedule some stuff, but it’ll be worth it.”

Clearly not believing him but polite enough not to call him out, Willie laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Great. My shift finishes at five that day, I’ll let you be a gentleman and pick me up. I’ve got to get back to work, but I’ll catch you then, Alex.”

“See you,” Alex said.

Willie walked away and was seamlessly replaced by Luke, who gripped Alex’s arms and shook him up and down. “Bro! You got a date with Willie! You can thank me later.”

Alex left the library, Luke trailing behind him. “I’m not thanking you,” he said, fighting a smile.

“Why not? I got him to come talk to you!”

“You didn’t ask him out, I did that. There’s nothing to thank you for.”

“That is where you’re very much wrong because…”

As Luke went on for a solid ten minutes about why Alex and Willie finally agreeing to go on a date was actually all down to him, Alex zoned out and let himself be happy. He had a date with Willie, the angelic librarian, the good-looking skater-boy history major. He couldn’t believe his luck.

When they arrived back at the studio, Julie smirked and said, “You’re grinning like an idiot, Alex.”

“In my defence,” he returned, “I'm going on a date with Willie.”

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chickwiththepurpleguitar · 3 years

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For the prompts and because now I need it: Willex + Kangaroo 💕

- sunsetsandcurves

Okay! So, I know your official prompt was Willex, but I decided to do Reggie Outsider POV cause I don’t write him enough, and then it... got away from me... And I accidentally wrote Julie/Luke/Reggie again (and apparently I’m only capable of writing in Reggie’s POV if he’s pining...) but I also wrote he/they Willie on purpose this time! Anyway, hopefully you like this, but if it’s not satisfactory just drop another ask in my box and I’ll write a part two that actually has more Alex and Willie in it.

Also I kind of inadvertently referenced your last Willex flower ficlet in this lol. Anyway, enjoy :)

“Hey, Hotdog. Kangaroo.”

Reggie’s head snaps up from where he’s been peering suspiciously at a wagon of precariously-stacked apples, trying to see if he can knock them over with his mind (so far, he’s been unsuccessful). Across the aisle, Willie has just plucked a bundle of radishes (bushel of radishes? Reggie’s not well-versed in the collective nouns of vegetables) off a table and hands them to Alex, trailing obediently along behind them. Alex rolls his eyes, stuffs the radishes in his fanny pack, and leaves a couple dollars on the table.

They’re all at a Farmers’ Market by Julie’s school. She had to go to do research for an Economics project, and she graciously let her ghosts boys (and Willie) tag along. They’re having one of their “visibility to lifers is hard” days, so (as Willie has continuously reminded them) they could probably steal whatever produce they want and get away with it. But Julie gave them each a stern talk and twenty dollars at the entrance, so Alex has put it upon himself to pay for everything Willie tries to convince him to smuggle away in his fanny pack.

Alex and Willie move on to a station selling flowers, and Reggie abandons his apple staring contest to bound along behind them. He hopes Willie will say again what Reggie thinks he just said, because Reggie might have just imagined it but he doesn’t know how to ask.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long. Willie plucks a pretty purple flower out of a pile and tucks it behind Alex’s ear (Alex wrinkles his nose out of instinct, but it’s not like he still has hayfever as a ghost). Then, Willie grabs a handful of seed packets, stuffs them in Alex’s hands, and says, “Kangaroo.”

Reggie’s mouth drops open. So they did say it! He scans his surroundings, craning his neck to see all the way to the entrance of the Farmers’ Market, but there’s no sign of an Australian marsupial anywhere. Not that Reggie had really been expecting to see one in the middle of Los Angeles, California, but why else would Willie be talking about them unless he’d seen one?

Reggie spins in a full circle until he catches sight of Luke and Julie over by the baked goods. He spares one last glance back at Alex and Willie (who seem to be bickering over the ethics of stealing flower petals out of the trash now) and then poofs across the market, appearing next to Luke and Julie by a stand selling bread and cookies.

“Hey, Reg,” Luke says without looking up. He’s got a chocolate chip cookie in one hand and a frosted sugar cookie in the other, and he’s looking back and forth between them like they’re the players of an extremely entertaining tennis match.

Reggie shoots Julie a questioning look. She rolls her eyes fondly and explains, “I told him he can only have one cookie. He’s been trying to decide for the last twenty minutes.”

“I’m narrowing it down,” Luke insists.

Julie laughs, and the sound sends a burst of fluttery happiness through Reggie’s chest. He grins, and almost forgets what he came over here to say in the first place, until Julie says, “Anyway. What have you been getting yourself up to, Reggie?”

He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Not too much. Bought some kiwis. Had an altercation with an apple cart. Mostly just third-wheeled Alex and Willie.”

He tries not to sound too bitter about it, but he’s not sure it works. He loves his friends, so much, and of course he wants them to be happy, but he can’t deny he feels a little left out sometimes, when they all pair off for date night, or hold hands on the sidewalk, and Reggie’s just… there.

(Part of him wants to find someone for himself, so that they can be three couples instead of two. Another, much more repressed, part of him wants there to still only be two couples, just… one of them has three people in it. He doesn’t know if that’s something he’s allowed to want, though, or even something that’s okay to think about, so he tries not to, and he doesn’t say a word about it to anyone, especially not Luke or Julie.)

“Aw, Reg,” Julie says, drawing him back to the present. She puts a hand on his arm, and Reggie beams, hoping he’s not blushing too visibly. “Well, I don’t know if third-wheeling us is any better, but you’re welcome to hang out!”

Reggie deflates. Right. Still third-wheeling. Because they’re still LukeAndJulie. And Reggie’s just there.

He pastes on a grin and deftly changes the subject. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you guys—you haven’t seen a kangaroo around here anywhere, have you?”

Luke finally looks up from his cookies to give Reggie one of his patented Hey, Reg, you’re a dumbass looks (they used to be insulting, but considering Reggie’s been on the receiving end of them since literally 1978, he’s used to them by now).

Julie, ever the angel, just settles for a politely confused frown and repeats, “Kangaroo?”

“Yeah,” Reggie says. “Willie kept saying stuff to Alex about a kangaroo, but I didn’t know if they meant, like, a real kangaroo or a stuffed one or something, but I didn’t see either, so I figured I’d ask you guys.”

Luke frowns thoughtfully. “Are you sure it’s not a gay thing? Maybe it’s a gay thing.”

Julie whacks him with her purse. “It is not a—who are you?” While Luke rubs his arm with a pout, she asks Reggie, “What was the context for this?”

“There wasn’t any!” Reggie insists. “He just kept handing Alex stuff to put in his fanny pack and saying, ‘Kangaroo.’”

Julie pulls her phone out of her back pocket, muttering, “Hold up. Maybe…” She types for a second, Luke attempting to slip both cookies in her purse while she’s distracted (she swats his hand away without looking up), and then exclaims, “Here we go!” and holds her phone out for Reggie to see. “In some countries, that belt bag Alex wears is referred to as a kangaroo! Cause it’s a pouch, I guess.”

“Definitely a better name than fanny pack,” Luke muses, guiding Julie by the wrist to turn the phone around for him. They bend their heads together, giggling over whatever article Julie found, and Reggie’s enthusiasm fades into a hardened pit in his stomach.

He mutters an awkward goodbye and poofs back across the market, not bothering to wait for Luke and Julie to notice.

An hour later, Reggie returns to the bakery stand and buys the last chocolate chip cookie (since Luke eventually chose the frosted one). When he catches up with his friends at the exit, he sidles up between Alex and Willie, holds the cookie out, and says, “Hey, Alex! Can you please put this in your…” He pauses dramatically and winks at Willie. “Kangaroo?”

“Oh, my god,” Alex sighs, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eyyy!” Willie cheers, giving Reggie an enthusiastic fist bump. “I knew it’d catch on!”

Reggie grins. He’s okay being the third wheel on good days like this. He just loves his friends so much.

Taglist: @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @nickalicious @reggiescrookedteeth @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @spidergirl0325 @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @cest-la-vie-de-la-lee @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @sunsetsandcurves

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfiction #fanfiction #my fics #prompt fills #asks #500 follwers aaah!!!#reggie peters #julie molina #luke patterson #julie/luke/reggie #willie nolastname #alex mercer #willex

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delphinidin4 · 3 years

Text

“Abominable neglect and unkindness”: Fanny Price and Trauma

I have C-PTSD, and it’s really been on my mind as I’ve been rereading Mansfield Park by Jane Austen: her heroine of Fanny Price is so OBVIOUSLY traumatized that I started making notes upon notes upon notes in my kindle copy on her symptoms and their causes. A couple of my followers said they’d be interested to read my analysis if I wrote it up, and it doesn’t take much to encourage me to put a few thousand words on the page screen! So below is my (probably WAY too long) analysis of Fanny Price’s emotional trauma and complex PTSD (a form of PTSD often caused by long-term emotional abuse/neglect). It’s hella long. sorrynotsorry lol

*unleashes inner academic*

Part 1: How Fanny Price Was Traumatized

Trauma 1: She is taken from family and home.

Okay, imagine this: You’re ten years old. You grew up in a noisy, lower-middle-class family with multiple little siblings and both your parents. You are the oldest girl, and are important to all the members of your family because you act as “playfellow, instructress, and nurse” to your younger siblings. You are also “exceedingly timid and shy”. And suddenly you find out that your mother is SENDING YOU AWAY--far, far away--to aunts and uncle and cousins you’ve never met before, to be raised by THEM instead of your parents. Leaving everything else out of the equation for a second, that by itself would be ABSOLUTELY DEVASTATING. You would feel like your parents didn’t love you and didn’t want you. You weren’t important to them. You might wonder what you did wrong to be sent away. And THEN it turns out you’re NEVER COMING BACK. EVER. Fanny doesn’t see her family again until she is, I think nineteen years old. At first, she doesn’t even have the means to write to her brother William, which was to be her ONLY connection to her family: it seems her parents don’t write to her at all over the course of the novel.

All of this would be bad enough. But to come to a place that was entirely alien to everything you had known... I mean, think about it. This is Mansfield Park, an ENORMOUS house with MANY servants, a completely different way of doing things. There’s MONEY. Even the items around you are of a totally different quality than you’re used to: Austen says of Fanny’s initial impression of Mansfield, “The grandeur of the house astonished, but could not console her. The rooms were too large for her to move in with ease: whatever she touched she expected to injure, and she crept about in constant terror of something or other; often retreating towards her own chamber to cry.” The accent people speak with is probably different. The vocabulary is probably different. And everybody DEFINITELY thought she was under-educated (more about this in a bit) because she didn’t have the education of a gentleman’s daughter--because she ISN’T a gentleman’s daughter. It must have caused her intense culture shock.

Trauma 2: William’s absence

It’s clear that in her childhood in Portsmouth, William is the dearest member of Fanny’s family (see below for a discussion of her parents). When Fanny first arrives at Mansfield, Edmund discovers that,

dear as all these brothers and sisters generally were, there was one among them who ran more in her thoughts than the rest. It was William whom she talked of most, and wanted most to see. William, the eldest, a year older than herself, her constant companion and friend; her advocate with her mother (of whom he was the darling) in every distress. ‘William did not like she should come away; he had told her he should miss her very much indeed.’

Fanny’s one really warm and loving connection seems to be with William, and she is parted from him, first by her move to Mansfield, and then by his going to sea:

Once, and once only, in the course of many years, had she the happiness of being with William. Of the rest [of her Portsmouth family] she saw nothing: nobody seemed to think of her ever going amongst them again, even for a visit, nobody at home seemed to want her; but William determining, soon after her removal, to be a sailor, was invited to spend a week with his sister in Northamptonshire before he went to sea. Their eager affection in meeting, their exquisite delight in being together, their hours of happy mirth, and moments of serious conference, may be imagined; as well as ...the misery of the girl when he left her. Luckily the visit happened in the Christmas holidays, when she could directly look for comfort to her cousin Edmund.

Fanny continues a correspondence with William when he is at sea, but it’s clear that his long absence from her life is very difficult for her.

One final note on her being parted from her family for long intervals: I think we might actually see a sign of this trauma in an emotional flashback later in the book.

For those unfamiliar with complex PTSD, flashbacks don’t always mean that you have a sort of hallucination of a traumatic experience. In the case of complex PTSD and PTSD from early childhood trauma, flashbacks often occur in the form of “emotional flashbacks”: instead of re-experiencing the sensory input of the traumatic experience (seeing and hearing the experience all over again when triggered), emotional flashbacks consist ONLY of the emotional content of the trauma. They result in sudden rushes of negative emotions such as fear, shame, sorrow, despair, embarrassment, anger, etc. This may be partly because the trigger is acting on so many different traumatic memories at once (the brain can’t just pick out one to show to you) and partly because the traumatic memory being triggered is from so early in your childhood that you don’t have a direct memory of it anymore, just the trauma memory. Emotional flashbacks can be identified by comparing the emotional response to the stimulus: If the emotion is inappropriate for the situation or inappropriately intense, it may well be a flashback.

In this scene, Miss Crawford--whom Fanny does not care for at all--is taking her leave of Fanny: I find it to be illuminating.

And embracing her very affectionately, “Good, gentle Fanny! when I think of this being the last time of seeing you for I do not know how long, I feel it quite impossible to do anything but love you.”

Fanny was affected. She had not foreseen anything of this, and her feelings could seldom withstand the melancholy influence of the word “last.” She cried as if she had loved Miss Crawford more than she possibly could.

It sounds to me as if Fanny is having a negative reaction that is out of proportion for and inappropriate to the situation. Miss Crawford is leaving, and Fanny is GLAD that she is leaving. Nonetheless, she is involuntarily emotionally “affected” by Miss Crawford’s goodbye, and cries far more than is actually in keeping with her feelings. It seems like Fanny is triggered by the leave-taking and “the melancholy influence of the word ‘last’.” Fanny has had traumatic leave-takings from her family and her beloved William; and things like “This is the last time I’ll see you for who knows how long” must have been said to her before in intensely traumatic situations. So it’s no wonder she gets triggered by this situation’s similarity to those and has an out-sized emotional response. Separations from her family and from William were definitely traumatic to her and reminders of them now trigger trauma responses.

Trauma 3: Emotional neglect by parental figures

Fanny might not have been so badly traumatized by leaving her family and being separated from William if she had had emotional support from adult caregivers. Research has shown that if a child has even ONE adult to whom they can talk openly about their feelings, that can insulate them against the effects of trauma.

Fanny doesn’t have this. Both Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram are emotionally neglectful and distant.* Lady Bertram is pleasant, but is entirely self-centered and doesn’t really GAF about anybody or anything that doesn’t directly affect her. While she never abuses or hurts Fanny with unkindness, she also never comforts her, listens to her, or seems to do anything but get Fanny to fetch and carry for her and do half her sewing for her. There is a total lack of emotional connection between them until considerably later in the story.

[*Footnote: Miss Lee is surprisingly absent from the narrative and seems to be of no emotional support to Fanny whatsoever.]

Sir Thomas is worse. While he intends to take good care of Fanny--and to his credit, he does make sure she has her material needs met, is well educated, gets exercise, etc--he cannot be said to be NICE to her. Even when she first arrives, when he is trying his hardest to be kind, Austen says, “Sir Thomas, seeing how much she needed encouragement, tried to be all that was conciliating: but he had to work against a most untoward gravity of deportment.” He’s not good with kids, and he seems to be highly critical of Fanny, especially before his return from Antigua. Apparently he used to terrify her in childhood by catechizing her on her lessons in French in English, which implies he constantly found her wanting. His parting words to her on the beginning of his voyage to Antigua are downright scalding: “If William does come to Mansfield, I hope you may be able to convince him that the many years which have passed since you parted have not been spent on your side entirely without improvement; though, I fear, he must find his sister at sixteen in some respects too much like his sister at ten.”

JFC, Tommy-boy. Throttle back a little, can’t you?

He’s not popular even with his own daughters: Austen says of Maria and Julia, “Their father was no object of love to them; he had never seemed the friend of their pleasures, and his absence was unhappily most welcome. They were relieved by it from all restraint”. Sir Thomas comes across as a bit of a martinet, always finding fault and always saying no. At best, he doesn’t seem to be at all warm and encouraging, and appears to be almost entirely ignorant, not only of what Fanny’s character is like, but also about his own daughters’ characters.

There’s also the problem of his lack of understanding and compassion for Fanny. She describes him as “all that was clever and good,” but both his cleverness and goodness frequently seem to be lacking. He doesn’t understand Fanny’s feelings any more than he understands those of Maria, sending Edmund to sound Fanny out on the subject of Mr. Crawford because he CANNOT understand how a woman might not love a man that was clever, pleasant and rich. While he provided the money to raise Fanny, his disregard of her is clear when he sends her on a long visit to Portsmouth, where her health suffers. Even Crawford recognizes Sir Thomas’s likeliness to neglect her:

I know Mansfield, I know its way, I know its faults towards you. I know the danger of your being so far forgotten, as to have your comforts give way to the imaginary convenience of any single being in the family. I am aware that you may be left here week after week, if Sir Thomas cannot settle everything ... without involving the slightest alteration of the arrangements which he may have laid down for the next quarter of a year.

Sir Thomas, while priding himself (and being praised by others) as being so kind and clever, has low emotional intelligence and too little care for Fanny. Despite his occasional kindnesses, and her claim on his care as his direct dependent, she is not one of his priorities.

Of course, Fanny’s own parents would have had the strongest effects on her earliest years (especially considering the Prices didn’t seem to have a nanny or governess, so Mrs. Price would have been responsible for all her education, as well). It’s clear that Fanny’s mother didn’t show her much love in her early childhood: Mrs. Price is described as

“the ‘mama’ who had certainly shewn no remarkable fondness for her formerly; but this [Fanny] could easily suppose to have been her own fault or her own fancy. She had probably alienated love by the helplessness and fretfulness of a fearful temper, or been unreasonable in wanting a larger share than any one among so many could deserve.”

We can see Fanny here doing what so many emotionally neglected children do, making excuses for their parents and assuming that the emotional neglect and abuse they suffer are somehow THEIR fault. Many emotionally abused or neglected children believe that they’re too loud, too needy, too much, and even ugly, blaming themselves for their parents’ rejecting and disgusted behavior toward them.

It’s proven, however, when Fanny goes home, that her parents are just as neglectful of her as she felt them to be formerly. Her father is “negligent of his family”, and her mother clearly does not really love her:

Mrs. Price was not unkind; but, instead of gaining on her affection and confidence, and becoming more and more dear, her daughter never met with greater kindness from her than on the first day of her arrival. The instinct of nature was soon satisfied, and Mrs. Price’s attachment had no other source. Her heart and her time were already quite full; she had neither leisure nor affection to bestow on Fanny. Her daughters never had been much to her.* She was fond of her sons, especially of William, but Betsey was the first of her girls whom she had ever much regarded. To her she was most injudiciously indulgent. William was her pride; Betsey her darling; and John, Richard, Sam, Tom, and Charles occupied all the rest of her maternal solicitude, alternately her worries and her comforts. These shared her heart: her time was given chiefly to her house and her servants.

[*Footnote: I have to stop here for a moment and mention poor Susan, whom I like better at every reading. With Mrs. Price only loving her sons and Betsy, with Mary dead and Fanny gone, Susan was for years THE ONLY completely unloved child in the house, which must have been pretty awful. It’s clear that Fanny and Susan have suffered rather similar fates in being raised without love, and Susan only responds more with irritation and Fanny more with tears: “Susan was only acting on the same truths, and pursuing the same system, which [Fanny’s] own judgment acknowledged, but which her more supine and yielding temper would have shrunk from asserting. Susan tried to be useful, where she could only have gone away and cried”. Please tell me somebody’s written a sequel about Susan?]

Again, while Mr. and Mrs. Price are not CRUEL, they’re not KIND, either. They are deeply emotionally neglectful toward Susan and Fanny, and Mrs. Price shows favoritism for the rest of her children, thus hurting her daughters further. Fanny’s probable surmise when she was sent away that she was not loved or wanted by her parents unfortunately appears to be very true. While an adult like Fanny can rationalize such behavior by her parents (even if it pains her), a child cannot do so, and the Prices’ lack of love for their own daughter must have been traumatizing and contributed to her belief that she can never matter to anybody (more on this in a bit).

Trauma 4: Lack of Companionship: Maria and Julia (and Miss Lee)

Fanny’s education when she arrives at Mansfield is not that of a gentlewoman--hardly surprising, given both her family’s socioeconomic position and her mother’s busy-ness with her family and general indolence. Maria and Julia’s education on scholarly subjects is clearly much stronger (they’re also 2-3 years older than her), and we know that their moral education was neglected, so that they only care about whether Fanny is rich and well-educated like themselves:

They could not but hold her cheap on finding that she had but two sashes, and had never learned French; and when they perceived her to be little struck with the duet they were so good as to play, they could do no more than make her a generous present of some of their least valued toys, and leave her to herself, while they adjourned to whatever might be the favourite holiday sport of the moment, making artificial flowers or wasting gold paper.

They’re generous enough to give her presents (though their least-valued belongings), but not generous enough to actually spend time with her, and it appears that this pattern holds throughout Fanny’s time at Mansfield.

At first, Mrs. Norris, Sir Thomas, and Miss Lee all think her actually stupid instead of just ill-educated: we are told that not only did Miss Lee “[wonder] at her ignorance,” but

A mean opinion of her abilities was not confined to [Sir Thomas and Mrs. Norris]. Fanny could read, work [that means “sew”], and write, but she had been taught nothing more; and as her cousins found her ignorant of many things with which they had been long familiar, they thought her prodigiously stupid, and for the first two or three weeks were continually bringing some fresh report of it into the drawing-room.

You would think that the adults at least would realize that Fanny hadn’t had the opportunity of a gentlewoman’s education, but no, they attribute it to natural stupidity instead of opportunity:

“My dear,” their considerate aunt would reply, “it is very bad, but you must not expect everybody to be as forward and quick at learning as yourself.”

It is only Edmund who perceives that Fanny is not only NOT stupid, she’s actually clever:

He knew her to be clever, to have a quick apprehension as well as good sense, and a fondness for reading, which, properly directed, must be an education in itself. Miss Lee taught her French, and heard her read the daily portion of history; but he recommended the books which charmed her leisure hours, he encouraged her taste, and corrected her judgment: he made reading useful by talking to her of what she read, and heightened its attraction by judicious praise.

One wonders, if a sixteen-year-old boy hadn’t decided to undertake part of Fanny’s education himself, how much worse off would she have been?

That Fanny’s companionship fell almost entirely to a teenage boy six years her senior who spends most of the year away at boarding school/university, is a ringing indictment of the behavior of Maria and Julia, and of those who should have been encouraging them to make a friend of their cousin.

Trauma 5: Mrs Norris (who gets a fucking section all her own)

Here we are. We’ve finally come to it. The other four traumas would certainly have been sufficient to cause C-PTSD, but JFC, Mrs. Norris could have caused it all by her lonesome. While she comes across as amusing in Austen’s sardonic style, she is absolutely toxic for Fanny’s mental health.

Mrs. Norris seems to have had an out-sized effect on the three Mansfield girls. Generally, mothers were in charge of the education of their daughters (even if indirectly, through a governess), so while Sir Thomas did examine them on their lessons, it was really supposed to be Lady Bertram’s job to see to their practical and moral education. But Lady Bertram is an absolute zero, a completely passive character, and Austen says directly that, “To the education of her daughters Lady Bertram paid not the smallest attention.” So it seems like the much more active Mrs. Norris stepped in, and her influence was extremely strong with all three of them, despite her being married and having her own house and her own concerns for the first seven or so years of Fanny’s time at Mansfield.

We can see her influence with all three in the fact that all three of the Mansfield girls end up evaluating themselves in almost perfect accordance to how Mrs. Norris evaluated them. Maria, the golden child*, became very spoiled and proud and thought she could do almost whatever she wanted. Fanny, the scapegoat, came to believe that her only worth was in being “useful” (Mrs. Norris’s hobby-horse) and that she could never be of any importance to anybody. And Julia, while closer to Maria’s level of treatment than Fanny’s, also suffers from comparisons to the golden child:

That Julia escaped better than Maria was owing, in some measure, to a favourable difference of disposition and circumstance, but in a greater to her having been less the darling of that very aunt, less flattered and less spoilt. Her beauty and acquirements had held but a second place. She had been always used to think herself a little inferior to Maria.

[*footnote: Treating one child as the golden child and one as the scapegoat is a very common tactic of abusive caregivers. The scapegoat becomes entirely worn down in self-esteem so that she is powerless to fight back against the abuse. The golden child and other children see how the scapegoat is treated and try hard not to rock the boat because they don’t want to end up like that.]

Mrs. Norris teaches Fanny from the beginning to judge and reject her own natural emotions. On her first traumatic separation from her family, Mrs. Norris lectures her incessantly on how she ought to be HAPPY, not sad:

Mrs. Norris had been talking to her the whole way from Northampton of her wonderful good fortune, and the extraordinary degree of gratitude and good behaviour which it ought to produce, and her consciousness of misery was therefore increased by the idea of its being a wicked thing for her not to be happy.

Fanny is taught to regard her own natural feelings as “wicked”, especially when they are a negative reaction to how the Bertram/Norris family treats her. While she can see some of her own feelings as just--when they have been sanctioned by Edmund’s judgment--any feeling that tends away from perfect gratitude toward the Bertram/Norris family she immediately rejects as an immoral response. She frequently takes herself to task at these moments. Anger and resentment are natural responses meant to help us protect ourselves against mistreatment from others, and this self-defending response is entirely squelched by Mrs. Norris’s behavior to her.

Mrs. Norris’s behavior toward Fanny is not only emotionally abusive; it is also at least physically neglectful, if not physically abusive. Despite the fact that everyone agrees that Fanny “is not strong”, Mrs. Norris makes a lot of difficulties in Edmund’s attempts to make sure Fanny has a horse to ride, and also refuses to allow Fanny a fire in the East Room, even in the middle of winter, a privation that ever Sir Thomas thinks bad enough that he countermands it--though doing so with a little explanatory disclaimer to Fanny explaining why Mrs. Norris MEANS well and why Fanny shouldn’t dare to be angry, or indeed anything but immensely and forever grateful for their neglectful treatment of her:

Your aunt Norris has always been an advocate, and very judiciously, for young people’s being brought up without unnecessary indulgences; but there should be moderation in everything. She is also very hardy herself, which of course will influence her in her opinion of the wants of others. And on another account, too, I can perfectly comprehend. I know what her sentiments have always been. The principle was good in itself, but it may have been, and I believe has been, carried too far in your case. I am aware that there has been sometimes, in some points, a misplaced distinction; but I think too well of you, Fanny, to suppose you will ever harbour resentment on that account. You have an understanding which will prevent you from receiving things only in part, and judging partially by the event. You will take in the whole of the past, you will consider times, persons, and probabilities, and you will feel that they were not least your friends who were educating and preparing you for that mediocrity of condition which seemed to be your lot. Though their caution may prove eventually unnecessary, it was kindly meant; and of this you may be assured, that every advantage of affluence will be doubled by the little privations and restrictions that may have been imposed. I am sure you will not disappoint my opinion of you, by failing at any time to treat your aunt Norris with the respect and attention that are due to her.

~*GAAASSSSS-LIGHTINNNNGGGGGGG*~

“Oh, shit, you’ve been freezing to death here for years because your aunt’s an abusive asshole. Oh, but there are three million excuses for her, and also you’re SO GOOD AND GRATEFUL that I KNOW you’ll never allow yourself to see it for the abuse it was, and aren’t you so GRATEFUL to us all for everything we’ve done for you? We MEANT well. And being abused was good for you anyway. If you ever get mad at your abusers I’ll treat you with withering criticism.”

*gagggg* I could write an entire essay explicating the gaslighting in that passage ALONE.

I could go on and on about Mrs. Norris’s abusive behavior toward Fanny, but I think most of it’s perfectly obvious to the reader. I think a very interesting argument might be made on whether Mrs. Norris would count as having a form of narcissistic personality disorder--always worried about her own importance, living through her golden child Maria, taking everything out on her scapegoat, insisting always on associating her own value with that of Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram and insisting on Fanny’s status being lower because her own self-esteem is dependent on being as good as her sister Bertram and better than her sister Price. Might be interesting.

Part 2: Fanny Price’s Trauma Responses

Complex emotional trauma expresses itself in a number of symptoms and behaviors. We’ve already talked about emotional flashbacks, and I’m going to look at four more major aspects of Fanny’s trauma responses.

Anxiety and Hypervigilance

People with PTSD often suffer from hypervigilance, where their body is constantly on high alert for threats in their environment. These threats are not only physical threats (resulting in things like jumping really hard at sudden noises) but also interpersonal threats. For instance, whenever I hear people talking really quietly in my house, I stop whatever I’m doing and listen REALLY HARD because I’m worried they’re talking about me and it’s gonna be bad.

Fanny exhibits this same behavior when she has retreated to the East Room when Crawford is in the house to propose to her:

She sat some time in a good deal of agitation, listening, trembling, and fearing to be sent for every moment; but as no footsteps approached the East room, she grew gradually composed, could sit down, and be able to employ herself, and able to hope that Mr. Crawford had come and would go without her being obliged to know anything of the matter.

Nearly half an hour had passed, and she was growing very comfortable, when suddenly the sound of a step in regular approach was heard; a heavy step, an unusual step in that part of the house: it was her uncle’s; she knew it as well as his voice; she had trembled at it as often, and began to tremble again, at the idea of his coming up to speak to her, whatever might be the subject. It was indeed Sir Thomas who opened the door and asked if she were there, and if he might come in. The terror of his former occasional visits to that room seemed all renewed, and she felt as if he were going to examine her again in French and English.

Her trembling at the sound of her uncle’s footsteps looks like hypervigilance, and the fact of her childhood “terror” being “renewed” sounds like she’s having another flashback, since she so strongly associates the presence of her uncle in the East Room with those painful childhood visits. She reacts with physical symptoms of stress, trembling at his approach.

Fanny’s anxiety and hypervigilance also demonstrates itself in her being constantly convinced that people are going to be angry with her. When she turns Mr. Crawford down, for instance, she is CONVINCED that Miss Crawford is going to be furious with her, and fears to meet with her. Edmund tells her Miss Crawford isn’t REALLY angry with her, but cannot convince her:

The promised visit from “her friend,” as Edmund called Miss Crawford, was a formidable threat to Fanny, and she lived in continual terror of it. As a sister, so partial and so angry, and so little scrupulous of what she said... she was in every way an object of painful alarm. ...The dependence of having others present when they met was Fanny’s only support in looking forward to it. She absented herself as little as possible from Lady Bertram, kept away from the East room, and took no solitary walk in the shrubbery, in her caution to avoid any sudden attack.

Fanny is so terrified of a polite confrontation with Miss Crawford, whom she has never seen angry before, that she spends DAYS trying to never be alone so that she’ll feel protected by the presence of company! Of course, when Miss Crawford DOES visit, she’s nothing but friendly. But Fanny’s PTSD couldn’t allow her to believe that until it happened. Her anxiety is intense, and this sort of thing happens repeatedly over the course of the novel.

Over-accommodation of others / people-pleasing

Childhood emotional trauma frequently leads to people-pleasing behavior: doing what you do not want to do simply because someone else wants you to. To understand this, you have to put yourself into the point of view of a very young child or an infant. Children depend entirely on their caregivers for survival: they are aware of this on an instinctive level. If the caregiver shows them very conditional love, only appearing pleased with them when the child does things they like and displeased when the child does things that inconvenience them, the child quickly learns that they need to please their caregivers in order to survive. “Mom gets angry when I cry--Mom doesn’t like me to cry--if Mom gets angry at me, I could starve to death--I need to not cry.” Obviously this line of thinking happens on a subconscious rather than a conscious level, but it’s incredibly powerful nonetheless. I have found myself in situations where a person with some kind of power over me--a doctor, for instance--shows displeasure with something I say to them, and I INSTANTLY find myself backing off, making light of it, taking back everything I said, etc, even though I very much meant it and it needed to be said. The people-pleasing instinct is very strong and difficult to overcome.

In Fanny’s case, it isn’t just a matter of her caregivers showing her inconsistent love in early childhood. Even as an adult, she is fully aware that she needs to please the Bertrams, or she--and her family!--are SCREWED. She is entirely financially dependent on the Bertrams. If she displeases them, not only can they make her life at Mansfield even MORE uncomfortable than it already is, but they can send her back to Portsmouth. Even worse, they could stop their financial support of William and the financial support they are periodically sending to the rest of her family. Huge things hang on Fanny’s pleasing the Bertrams, and it’s small wonder she has developed the habit of trying to please everybody constantly (even her un-pleasable Aunt Norris).

Fanny repeatedly does things she doesn’t want to do, simply because someone asks or tells her to, even if there’s likely to be no major consequences if she doesn’t. One example is on Miss Crawford’s last visit to Mansfield, when Fanny is trying her darnedest to avoid speaking with her alone:

[Miss Crawford] was determined to see Fanny alone, and therefore said to her tolerably soon, in a low voice, “I must speak to you for a few minutes somewhere”; words that Fanny felt all over her, in all her pulses and all her nerves. Denial was impossible. Her habits of ready submission, on the contrary, made her almost instantly rise and lead the way out of the room. She did it with wretched feelings, but it was inevitable.

Fanny doesn’t want to talk to Miss Crawford alone. Fanny doesn’t NEED to talk to Miss Crawford alone. Fanny could stall, perhaps until Miss Crawford left. Nonetheless, the MOMENT Miss Crawford asks it of her, Fanny does it--even though she’s clearly terrified, feeling it “in all her pulses and all her nerves” (more on this physical reaction later). She acts almost like Ella Enchanted: she literally can’t say no.

Likewise, she doesn’t take opportunities she is offered to do things that she DOES wish to do. After a very long description of how much she wants to dance one evening, when her only chance of a partner is Tom, the following exchange occurs:

When he had told of his horse, [Tom] took a newspaper from the table, and looking over it, said in a languid way, “If you want to dance, Fanny, I will stand up with you.” With more than equal civility the offer was declined; she did not wish to dance. “I am glad of it,” said he, in a much brisker tone, and throwing down the newspaper again, “for I am tired to death.”

Fanny DOES want to dance, and the way that he worded the question, she could very well have said, “Yes, please,” and gotten up to dance with him. He has made it obvious that he doesn’t want to dance, and she has picked up on this and said--not only that they don’t have to dance, but the LIE that she doesn’t WANT to dance--in order to please him. Later Austen points Tom out as a hypocrite when he complains, “It raises my spleen more than anything, to have the pretence of being asked, of being given a choice, and at the same time addressed in such a way as to oblige one to do the very thing, whatever it be!” But while it is true that Tom left Fanny LITTLE choice in the matter, it is also true that a stronger character, like Miss Crawford, could probably have found a way to say that she DID want to dance, even with such an unencouraging questioner. Fanny cannot do this: she has been conditioned all her life to give in to people--because her very SURVIVAL has depended on it.

In particular, Mrs. Norris has squelched Fanny’s independence of spirit very firmly. At one point she observes, very unfairly,

There is a something about Fanny, I have often observed it before—she likes to go her own way to work; she does not like to be dictated to; she takes her own independent walk whenever she can; she certainly has a little spirit of secrecy, and independence, and nonsense, about her, which I would advise her to get the better of.”

As a general reflection on Fanny, Sir Thomas thought nothing could be more unjust.

Obviously, Mrs. Norris is completely wrong about this. But as long as she can project* the fault of independence on Fanny, and punish Fanny for this false fault, she can prevent her from ever developing it. By picking on the least little supposed sign of independence and harping on it for ages, Mrs. Norris can prevent Fanny from ever developing a will of her own.

[*Footnote: this is another thing narcissists do: they project their own bad behavior on to others. Mrs. Norris is definitely not secretive, but she is very “independent” and has a lot of “nonsense”--instead of consulting with others about what they actually need in any given situation, she TELLS them. She has no spirit of cooperation, and all her “services” to others tend to be officious and useless.]

Low self-esteem

I thought about putting this together with the section on Mrs. Norris, because Fanny’s self-esteem has been so much shaped by her aunt. This is the kind of message Mrs. Norris is constantly drilling into her about the lowness of her importance:

The nonsense and folly of people’s stepping out of their rank and trying to appear above themselves, makes me think it right to give you a hint, Fanny, now that you are going into company without any of us; and I do beseech and entreat you not to be putting yourself forward, and talking and giving your opinion as if you were one of your cousins—as if you were dear Mrs. Rushworth or Julia. That will never do, believe me. Remember, wherever you are, you must be the lowest and last.

This message is so entirely in keeping with the messages Mrs. Norris has been indoctrinating Fanny with over the years that she has fully internalized it. When a primary caregiver tells you over and over again that you do not matter to anyone, you come to believe it:

[Fanny:] “I can never be important to any one.”

[Edmund:] “What is to prevent you?”

“Everything. My situation, my foolishness and awkwardness.”

“As to your foolishness and awkwardness, my dear Fanny, believe me, you never have a shadow of either, but in using the words so improperly. There is no reason in the world why you should not be important where you are known. You have good sense, and a sweet temper, and I am sure you have a grateful heart, that could never receive kindness without wishing to return it. I do not know any better qualifications for a friend and companion.”

“You are too kind,” said Fanny, colouring at such praise; “how shall I ever thank you as I ought, for thinking so well of me.”

Fanny’s “I can never be important to any one” sounds very much like a triggered teenager sobbing, “Nobody will ever love me!” even while friends next to her are demonstrating that they DO love her. The survivor of this kind of abuse comes to a place where their beliefs do not reflect reality because their beliefs instead reflect the intense emotional rejection they have received from their main caregivers*. Fanny is important to Edmund, William, and Lady Bertram, but is convinced that she not only is NOT important to ANYONE, but never CAN be. She also convinced that she is foolish and awkward, probably by the early experiences at Mansfield when she didn’t know all the intricate rules of high society and was far behind Maria and Julia in her education. Fanny, though she is extremely shy, manages to carry off most things with surprising grace, and she is clever and has a wisdom and common sense in some things far beyond her years. Yet she is CERTAIN that she is “foolish and awkward”, because she has been repeatedly called so by authority figures in her life and almost all of her family at Mansfield.

[*Footnote: these extreme beliefs are often couched in “black-and-white” language: “EVERYBODY hates me, NOBODY loves me, I’ll NEVER be able to do it right, I’ll be alone FOREVER”. We can hear this in Fanny’s “I can NEVER be of importance to ANY ONE”.]

Fanny not only thinks very lowly of herself, she also is afraid of being praised or of anything that could possibly raise her self-esteem. For instance, in a discussion with Edmund, she explains why she never wants anybody to notice her:

[Edmund:] “Your uncle is disposed to be pleased with you in every respect; and I only wish you would talk to him more. You are one of those who are too silent in the evening circle.”

[Fanny:] “But I do talk to him more than I used. I am sure I do. Did not you hear me ask him about the slave-trade last night?”

“I did—and was in hopes the question would be followed up by others. It would have pleased your uncle to be inquired of farther.”

“And I longed to do it—but there was such a dead silence! And while my cousins were sitting by without speaking a word, or seeming at all interested in the subject, I did not like—I thought it would appear as if I wanted to set myself off at their expense, by shewing a curiosity and pleasure in his information which he must wish his own daughters to feel.”

“Miss Crawford was very right in what she said of you the other day: that you seemed almost as fearful of notice and praise as other women were of neglect.”

She is literally fearful of notice and praise--because Mrs. Norris has told her repeatedly throughout her life that she must NEVER shine more than Maria or Julia, must NEVER take attention away from them--a sort of vicarious narcissism. And Fanny feels that to receive a compliment, to state her own opinions, or even to TALK much in company is “stepping out of her place”, the high crime and misdemeanor of Mrs. Norris’s upbringing.

I was raised by a narcissistic caretaker, and I am sometimes suddenly overwhelmed with terror that I’m taking too much attention to myself and that I’m therefore BAD somehow. Because a narcissist (or their proxy, the golden child) must always be the center of attention, the scapegoat is emotionally punished for ever taking the spotlight. Mrs. Norris is disposed to be upset when Sir Thomas holds a dance in Fanny’s honor, and is only reconciled to it because SHE will be able to make herself the center of attention in the preparations.*

[*Footnote: I think another argument can be made for Mrs. Norris’s narcissism in her response to Crawford’s proposal to Fanny:

Angry she was: bitterly angry; but she was more angry with Fanny for having received such an offer than for refusing it. It was an injury and affront to Julia, who ought to have been Mr. Crawford’s choice; and, independently of that, she disliked Fanny, because she had neglected her; and she would have grudged such an elevation to one whom she had been always trying to depress.

Mrs. Norris is DETERMINED to put Fanny down, as the scapegoat, and is offended that one of her golden children (her emotional stand-in) is shown less honor in this situation than the scapegoat. For the scapegoat to be elevated and her narcissistic stand-in to be neglected induces a narcissistic rage.]

“Sensibility” and High Sensitivity

In the 18th century, a theory and “culture of sensibility” grew up in places like Britain, France, Holland, and the British colonies. Encyclopedia.com’s article on sensibility states, “Sensibility (and ‘sensible’ and ‘sentiment’) connoted the operation of the nervous system, the material basis for consciousness.” But the workings of the nervous system, they believed, affected more than just the physical body. Some people, it was held, had greater sensibility than others: their nerves were more easily affected by not only physical but also emotional and moral input, and they responded accordingly--not just in word and in deed, but in tears, blushes, trembling, fainting, etc. It was believed that people’s emotional responses AND physical responses could tell you something about their physical AND moral makeup. A truly modest woman, for instance, would blush and look confused when confronted with something that offended her maidenly modesty. A woman--or indeed, man--who was truly moral and “sensible” would be emotionally affected by something sad, such as a tale of oppression, to the point of openly weeping. A heroine of sensibility would most likely faint if threatened with something she found, not only physically frightening, but morally abhorrent (such as a forced marriage). This is part of the reason for what seems to use like excessive emotional reactions in some 18th-century novels: the writer is demonstrating her characters’ moral superiority through their physical sensibility.*

[*Footnote: Encyclopedia.com adds, “The coexistence of reason and feeling was assumed, but the proportion of each was endlessly debated, above all because of what many saw as the dangers of unleashed feelings... [After the French Revolution,] The debate over the proportions of reason and feeling in persons of sensibility was politicized, and the need for women to channel their feelings toward moral and domestic goals was reemphasized. The word ‘sentimental,’ which had been used positively, became a label for ‘excessive sensibility’ and self-indulgence.” We can see this conflict clearly in Austen’s Sense and Sensibility!]

There is, in fact, a modern equivalent to the 18th century idea of sensibility: the concept of the Highly Sensitive Person (HSP) or Sensory Processing Sensitivity (SPS). First proposed by Elaine Aron's book The Highly Sensitive Person (1996), the theory suggests that SPS

is a temperamental or personality trait involving "an increased sensitivity of the central nervous system and a deeper cognitive processing of physical, social and emotional stimuli". The trait is characterized by "a tendency to 'pause to check' in novel situations, greater sensitivity to subtle stimuli, and the engagement of deeper cognitive processing strategies for employing coping actions, all of which is driven by heightened emotional reactivity, both positive and negative". (wikipedia)

While some people have mocked this theory as pseudoscience, Aron is by no means the only researcher to have studied it, and a great many people who suffered from people telling them “You’re too sensitive” when they were hurt have taken comfort in the positive affirmation that high sensitivity is a natural phenomenon and can even at times be regarded as a strength rather than a character flaw.

It seems to me that there is a good deal of overlap between those who self-identify or may be identified as HSPs and those who have C-PTSD. Whether this is because greater emotional sensitivity leads to a greater incidence of traumatic responses to negative experiences, or whether high sensitivity is itself a product of repeated childhood trauma, I can’t say. (Heck, it could even be that the HSP’s belief that they’re over-sensitive comes from childhood gaslighting!)

What I can say is that Fanny Price exhibits, not only hypervigilance, but also what Austen would call “great sensibility” and I would call “SPS”. Fanny has the greatest sensibility of any character in the entire novel, even Edmund: she judges more clearly on moral matters than Edmund or Sir Thomas, and has the strongest physical and emotional reactions to stimuli. She seems to be constantly blushing, trembling, or tearing up. This is not only painful to modern readers (who, if they’re not pained by sympathizing with her, may well be pained by what seems to them a lack of proper 21st-century backbone in a main character) but is clearly highly uncomfortable at times to Fanny herself. She might be able to pride herself on her moral discernment (not that Fanny would EVER pride herself on ANYTHING), and she may be in transports of happiness when something good, like William’s arrival or promotion, occur, but she is often “cast down” as well by things that seem to others like trifles. We see this not only in her hypervigilance but also in the depression and the black-and-white thinking which are often the products of trauma. Edmund observes to her, “It is your disposition to be easily dejected and to fancy difficulties greater than they are.” Fanny’s apparent high sensitivity may be just a natural trait (made worse by trauma) or may itself be a product of trauma.

Conclusions

At the end of all this, I’m really not sure what I think about Fanny’s “happy ending”. On one hand, she gets what she’s always wanted in life: companionate marriage with Edmund, valued by Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram, with Mrs. Norris (and Maria) gone forever, and Julia and Tom chastened and better behaved. It seems perfect for her. But a little voice inside of me keeps saying how very unlikely it is. People rarely change as much as Sir Thomas does in the book--and in fact, we are only assured by Austen that Sir Thomas comes to value Fanny more: we don’t actually SEE it. I can’t help but feel that Fanny must still have been subject to ongoing gaslighting about how she was brought up and about respect toward Mrs. Norris and himself. Fanny got what she thought she wanted, but at the same time, she didn’t get free. Especially considering that Austen goes out of her way to say that things COULD have turned out differently and that Fanny and Crawford COULD have been happy together, I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Fanny had ended up with the ONLY person in the entire book who truly recognizes how badly she has been treated at Mansfield Park:

[Crawford]: And they will now see their cousin treated as she ought to be, and I wish they may be heartily ashamed of their own abominable neglect and unkindness.

#jane austen #mansfield park #trauma #c-ptsd #literature #tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk

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fromthedeskofthecaptain · 3 years

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For anyone who would like to know the contents of the Ghosts Empire Spoiler Special, I’ve summarized the discussion below.

There are two episodes, both centered on series 2, excluding the Christmas special. The first is Martha, Ben and Larry and the second is with Matt and Jim (and is better in terms of how deep they go into characterization and the writing process). I’ll skip the bits that are just chatter.

I’m not going to transcribe it all, but I’ll spend a few posts talking about the key points. I’ll do the second one first, because it’s the richest.

Writing process-

Storylining is done half a series at a time as a big group and then who writes each episode depends on availability and not being engaged on other projects. People will often write an episode because the plot was their idea, but it can work out that they write up an episode based on someone else’s outline.

They knew they wanted to show characters going against type - angry Pat and vulnerable Captain - and that they wanted to explore love between the Ghosts. They wanted to show humanity, add complexity and depth to characters and allow a range of movement into the present and the past. It was harder to write than Yonderland because there isn’t a new character with an “adventure of the week”.

Episode 1 -

The original idea for Pat’s DJ spot was that he would give an intro to Dexy’s Midnight Runners “Come on Eileen” and hum the first few bars, but it turned out to be £1000s to obtain the rights. Jim was so thrilled that it got such a laugh in rehearsal he considered paying himself. They tried a few others (2,4, 6, 8 Motorway) and then Jim improvised “Chicken and Chips” thinking he’d have a lot more tries, but Tom Kingsley moved them on before he could.

(Btw, they had no problems getting Kylie to agree to use of “I Should be so Lucky” because she loves the show! Music Club presented the same problem of having to ask for clearance and pay. Apparently there’s no standardized system so they had to think of something and ask, rather than picking from options with a price list.)

Episode 2 -

They came up with Dante’s plot to give Alison some way of moving through the house and interacting with everyone. They went with the Ghosts natural reactions to partying. Pat was conflicted between fun and the right thing. The plague ghosts and Mick giving everyone the plague was based on a play Matt was in years ago about a village where this happened.

They structured the episode by using the principle “what’s the worst thing that could happen next?” a la Curb Your Enthusiasm and thought the answer was the plague ghosts coming upstairs and there had to be a cause of that. The archaeologist was a good person to deal with the question of how is it they’ve just found out what Mick did.

Mary x Robin came from them thinking someone would end up having some intimacy with someone in hundreds of years without much stimulation or any other people, or even things, to touch. They joked about everyone having had ghost sex(!!) with everyone else at one point. (Editor’s note: I can’t really see this. Kitty doesn’t know what it is, Cap and Fanny are too uncomfortable with it so that leaves Julian, Thomas, Humphrey and Pat, who I suspect is too loyal to his wife).

Episode 4 - The Thomas Thorne Affair

There was an awareness that Thomas’s character could become a “one note joke” with no capacity for development. Jim described him as potentially like Pepe Le Pew. Matt asked Charlotte how she felt about the sameness of some of their interactions. They thought about having Alison just lay down the law as it were, but that would change who he was too much. They needed to “play the same tune with a different dynamic” in Thomas’s arc. They considered making his character a peeping Tom, but thought that would bore everyone quickly.

Episode 4’s plot structure came about because they wanted to promote the unreliable narrator idea. They knew some ghosts would have witnessed Thomas’s death and that, plus familiarity with characters, let them play with the format. Matt didn’t want to have the flashbacks to deaths to be done the same way each time. Pat’s in series 1 was obvious because he “wears his death” (Jim). Jim did an improv of Pat’s death in the writer’s room when they first had the idea of how he died. It worked because although it’s quite horrific, the audience knows he’s ok, in a sense, afterwards, so it can be comedic too.

Matt felt a bit guilty about being front and centre of the story he wrote. The unifying thread was Mike and Alison’s issues with truth / perspective. His death also establishes that some ghosts are present at others deaths.

They developed Thomas by writing about why he is as he is. Matt thinks that because Thomas died “heartbroken and fixated” Mary’s observation that “you stays how you dies” is psychologically true, too. They always knew he died in a duel over a woman, but elaborated it to include dying thinking he’d been abandoned. He transferred this state of unrequited obsession onto Alison. Thomas can’t cope with Robin’s point, re monogamy, about what would he do if both Isobel and Alison were alive.

They still aren’t sure if he’s a good poet - they wrote it so we know it’s bad BUT he can believe it’s good and the audience within the show are a bit confused about whether it’s just confidently delivered rubbish or not. They think he’s capable of good work but gets too caught up in his fixed ideas of what being a good poet is and tries too hard (the implication being that this blocks genuine creativity/ originality). His vulnerability is quite charming (Matt).

The idea of the cousin betrayal was thought up once they started. The first idea was just that Thomas tells a story and others interject to say it wasn’t like that and Kitty would tell her version which the audience would know to be true because she has no guile. The contrast was originally just in Thomas’s grand passion cruelly interrupted story versus the actuality of a not very good poet being deluded about a random woman who barely knew who he was. The twist of the cousin was a spark in the writers room that everyone was immediately excited about and that matches Thomas’s sense of the melodramatic.

(As an aside, they always knew there were different groups of people in the house before the Buttons and intended to use that to explore other stories and characters throughout history.)

Matt is a bit embarrassed that they didn’t really have space to give Francis a proper motivation for orchestrating his cousin’s death. They put in a bit about him appreciating Button House and added a line from Thomas - “don’t embarrass me, cousin” - to suggest perhaps Thomas bullied him a bit. They thought about giving Francis lines about having gambling debts to create an urgent need to marry into money, but that made it too obvious that Francis was a bad guy.

To be continued...

#bbc ghosts #ghosts #matt baynton #jim howick #podcast #empire online spoiler special #writing #thomas thorne #pat butcher

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pointnumbersixteen · 3 years

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My Personal Ranking of Ghosts Episodes and Why

So, here’s my personal order for all the current Ghosts episodes, from best to worst, with a bit of an explanation as to why I think so. I included who wrote each episode because the writing pairs tend to have consistent strengths and weaknesses that affect my enjoyment. These are, of course, just my opinions, and I recognize that different people have different tastes.

1) Moonah Ston (Larry and Martha)

This episode is hilarious and it continues to be hilarious through multiple viewings (some of the jokes in other episodes start to wear thin after multiple viewings, but this one remains entirely solid through dozens of rewatches). Barclay and Bunny are my favorite guest characters throughout the show. Also some of my all-time favorite bits are in it: Cap stealing Thomas’s role doing the reading, the shooting of the pheasant with Cap, everything to do with Mary and the cooking of the pheasant, the way Alison yeets the pelaverga as soon as it’s handed to her, the juxtaposition of the eclipse ritual and the dinner party, Bunny’s ‘sobriety test.’ Also, there’s a strong A plot and a strong B plot that tie together, and all of the characters are fit into these two plots well, which is something the creators sometimes struggle with.

2) Getting Out (Mat and Jim)

I love everything about the Captain’s portion of the plot and it’s a nice big portion, too. His scene with Kitty is one of my favorite scenes in the show, brilliantly written, well-acted, and gorgeously shot. I can feel for Mike and Alison in it. Fiona’s another really funny guest character. My only major complaint is that the plot with other ghosts after the Captain’s left the group starts to drag after enough re-watches, particularly Thomas’s bad erotica and the jewel scene. I found both very funny on the first several watches, but the payoff to both is ruined with enough rewatches. With the first, the payoff is with how surprisingly bad for a ‘professional’ writer his story is, but after you’re well aware that Thomas is a bad writer, it’s just listening to bad writing over and over again. And the bit with Fanny’s jewel has such a long lead up, to get to the surprise payoff that the jewel was secretly pawned by George forever ago, but once you know the jewel is gone, the long lead up gets progressively more tedious with every watch. At least for me.

3) Reddy Weddy (Ben and Simon)

I’ve written extensively about this one before, so I won’t include much, but: I love everything having to do with the Captain in this one, particularly the completely wonderful flashbacks with Havers. Mike and Alison were very well done, and I enjoyed Martin as a guest character. But I really didn’t like the whose-turn-is-it-to-pick-the-movie subplot, it just seemed sort of unnecessary to me and detracted from the tone of the rest of it. I assume they just had trouble finding a better integrated role for Pat, Thomas and Julian, which, as I said under Moonah Ston, is an occasional weakness the creators had.

4) Gorilla War (Larry)

I love Cap’s campaign of attrition. And his singing. Everyone had solid, funny bits, all tied into one main plot in it. Mike and Alison are both well done in this episode. It’s the first episode where Alison is able to interact with the ghosts and I think they did a great job capitalizing on her coming to terms with it and Mike’s such a supportive husband in it.

5) About Last Night (Mat and Jim)

I love the spat between Cap and Pat in this one, because the focus of their subplot is their relationship dynamic and I enjoy their relationship dynamic- even though it’s close to the breaking point in this instance, all is well because they make up in the end. Everything about the state of the house and trying to remember what happened to it-as well as the flashbacks to the party- is pretty funny. The bits with Dante were very funny as well. The Robin-Mary subplot was a bit meh for me, but I didn’t dislike it, I’m just not sold on the idea. I didn’t enjoy Mike being sidelined on the roof for most of the episode when Alison needed his help and all the criticism he got from the other characters for not being around to help Alison, though.

6) Who Do You Think You Are? (Mat and Jim)

This is a really strong introductory episode with some good, funny bits in it, but it doesn’t rank higher since the ghosts can’t interact with Alison yet and Mike and Alison don’t know they’re there, which is where a lot of the fun of the concept of the show comes in to me.

7) Bump in the Night (Larry and Martha)

The robbers were funny as were the ghosts’ utterly inept attempts (save Robin) in stopping them. I loved music club, particularly the Captain’s performance. I appreciated the return of Barclay and his bitches. Humphrey was actually reasonably included in the plot, which is always a nice change. There weren’t any bits I found particularly outstanding (except maybe Cap’s musical performance) but there weren’t any major bits I disliked, either. Everyone’s included in one main plot and it continues to be just as enjoyable on rewatches.

8) The Thomas Thorne Affair (Mat and Jim)

I greatly enjoy examine-the-story-from-multiple-viewpoints-to-illustrate-unreliable-narration plots, so that went well in this episode. I also really like regency romances, so this ticked another box for me. Humphrey was given an important bit again, which I appreciate. The bit about Francis was a nice twist at the end, because otherwise it would have been a bit too predictable, with Thomas being shot in a duel over a romantic misunderstanding- that was the most obvious solution to his death, after all. It felt a bit contrived, though, that the characters who died after Thomas all went to the group meeting on time, while the characters who witnessed Thomas’s death were all still wandering around upstairs and just happen to wander into Alison’s room in time to contradict the last telling of the story and provide the next. And of course, the fact that half the cast is just sort of sitting downstairs waiting for a significant portion of the episode always seemed a bit lacking to me. Also, Mike starts the episode being unusually stupid (not knowing Elizabeth II is the current queen- at least in the US, not being able to answer who the current President is frequently used as shorthand for ‘having brain damage’) and spends the rest of it being insecure about Alison’s ex (this seems to be a Mat and Jim thing).

9) Perfect Day (Mat and Jim)

I loved all the Cap bits in this. Pat’s plotline was good, too. Humphrey actually had a substantial role, which I appreciated, and more so since he actually managed to bring Fanny around to the gay wedding. I was of course thrilled that it was a lesbian wedding. But I’m not a fan of ‘miscommunication causes drama’ plots in any medium and I disliked how once again how insecure Mike is in this episode (Mat and Jim again) and how poorly he handles it.

10) Happy Death Day (Ben)

I love all the Pat bits. I liked the interactions between the Captain and Julian, they had a really enjoyable dynamic in this one, although they’re being rather disappointing human beings in their plotline. I like Kitty’s plotline, too, and the garden scene between her and Fanny is very funny and beautifully framed. I don’t think this episode did a particularly good job with either Mike or Alison, though. Mike ditches his probably still concussed wife who is plagued by ghosts to manage the building work he started because he’s spending hours a day out of the house because there are too many people in it and he’s apparently potty-shy and Alison thinks trying to convince people to do probably thousands, if not more, pounds worth of free labor by making them tea is both a plausible idea and an appropriate thing to even try (it’s bad enough when the people asking you to do free work for them are actually your friends, contriving a friendship in order to do this just sort of seems a bit contemptible to me). Some of the jokes get less funny with time- Fanny with the butt cracks, for instance. I considered the Thomas subplot another weak ‘well, something needs to be done with this character’ subplot and I can’t even remember off the top of my head what Mary was doing most of the episode despite having seen it at least a dozen times, besides the bit where Alison throws the teacup at her head (and if I were Terry, I would have called it quits then).

11) The Ghost of Christmas (Ben and Simon)

Mostly fluff, and a decent amount of it was rather predictable fluff, but I’ve written more on that elsewhere. Mike’s sisters were the worst. I was hoping Ben would write himself a bigger role and he didn’t. In the Bleak Midwinter was gorgeous, though, and there were enough smaller bits that I found endearing to prop it up over the next two.

12) The Grey Lady (Larry and Martha)

I enjoy the ghosts’ routine as shown at the beginning of the episode. I found Pat’s radio show amusing. I liked the basement scene with Nigel. I wasn’t a huge fan of the Captain’s ‘stretching’ subplot (although I do greatly enjoy his ‘for king and country’ running), it just seemed a bit silly to me, like they couldn’t decide what to do with him for most of the episode, so went with ‘eh, squats, I guess.’ Also, I feel like they had trouble placing Mary and Kitty, too. Mary spends a lot of the episode staring at a wall and Kitty spends all of it just following the group and occasionally wailing about the ‘ghost-ghost.’ Also, I think Alison went a little too far with her simulated haunting when she dressed up as the Grey Lady; it wasn’t smart because there was no way she was going to get away with it after anyone turned on the lights and it seems a bit more like attempting to defraud people than the rest of it did.

13) Free Pass (Mat and Jim)

Alison actively puts people in danger for money, misrepresenting the house as structurally sound in order to get a movie contract, when in fact the floors are held up by hope and happy thoughts and could (and eventually do) cave at any moment. If the floor had fallen through in the letter scene, before Mike braced it, when they were using the heavy equipment, there likely would have been serious injuries. Also: Toby Nightingale is the worst. Also: the solidity and supportive nature of Mike and Alison’s relationship is the best part of it and I dislike the choice (Mat and Jim again) to make him so insecure in this episode (this was the first in the episode order to do so).

To speak on general tendencies, though: I’m not a fan of doing morally questionable things for monetary reasons unless the situation is life or death, so all of the episodes where that’s Alison’s primary purpose get major demerits from me. That’s a matter of personal taste, but there I am. As for the writers (I recognize they all come up with the general story arcs together, but the writing pairs are responsible for execution), everyone struggles a bit sometimes to get solid roles for everyone into the plot, to be expected when the cast is so large, but some instances are worse than others. I think Larry’s (well, Larry/Martha for most of them, but they’ve both joked that mostly she drinks and he writes when they’re working on their episodes) still the strongest writer in terms of having mostly cohesive plots that standup consistently as solid to multiple viewings, but he also has the most experience as a writer, so that’s probably to be expected. Ben and Simon have both stated that they like jig-sawing a bunch of little plots together to make an episode, and while it is a bit impressive that they can make episodes with like, nearly as many plotlines as characters come together to make one reasonably sane episode, I find this strategy detrimental in that to me, when they do this, there’s always one or two plots that are really, really good, a few plots that are pretty good, and then one or two plots that I just don’t enjoy, that to me drag down the rest of the episode (most apparent in Reddy Weddy, but it happens to some degree in all of their episodes). My major criticism of Mat and Jim is with the way they write Mike. I actually really like Mike when he’s well done, but his portrayal seems to vary a lot between episodes, and (with the exception of Ben’s Happy Death Day, but his problems in that one are different) the episodes he’s written the weakest in are all written by Mat and Jim. They’re the only ones who I think write Mike as insecure in his relationship with Alison and his most incompetent and/or useless moments also tend to be written by them. I don’t know if they have a slightly different concept of Mike’s character than the other four or what, but I think Larry/Martha and Ben/Simon’s portrayals of him tend to be significantly more flattering.

#bbc ghosts #everyone and everything #i intended this to be short guys #but i got caught up #and over three hours and 2200 words later here we are

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soft-for-them · 3 years

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the interview ♡ dani clayton x reader

anon: Hey sweetie! I’m so so happy you’re accepting Bly Manor request!!!.... my heart’s still healing. Can you write Dany x Reader? Something very fluffy please.. let your imagination run wild

please note because of prolonged break this is pretty short, i watched Bly last year so it isn’t at the forefront of my memory. anyway, i hope my queers like this. wouldn’t say it’s the fluffy-ist but i’m up for a part two.

You were running late for a job interview and like always you are flustered beyond belief, though it is through no fault of your own. You had gotten to the underground train station on time but there had been a rather lengthy delay that has now cause you to be late.

On any other given day you would have waited that long time for the train to arrive but you are in such rush that you had to run to the nearest bus stop to get on a random bus in hopes that you could make up for lost time.

You had gotten off of that bus and boarded another one, eating up all your pocket change as you did, and once you had gotten off that bus you had briskly walked to your interview.

With dishevelled hair and your borrowed floral blouse, you rush into the office waiting area and profusely apologise to the woman at the desk who looks to not care about your late arrival.

‘I very sorry I late, have I missed the interview?’ you apologise once again to the glasses wearing woman.

The woman peers up to you with a sweet but tired smile, the only type of smile a secretary would have from talking to too many people in one day.

‘Your interview isn’t yet Miss?’ she waits for you to say your name.

‘Oh, (Y/n) (l/n)!’ you reply as she makes you sign a sign in sheet.

‘Thank you, please sit down.’ the woman points at the mass of empty seats, it seems to you like you’re the first person here despite being about ten minutes late.

You say a quick ‘thank you’ to her as you had shuffle to a close by seat to her desk.

It is only you and the secretary in the waiting room. The room is quite drab for such rich owners’ offices, everything just seemed too dark and moody.

The debate has begun in your head on whether you would work in that office despite its gloomy and damn right negative feeling it has. Sure, you need a job and you would take anything but you are also glad that the job interview you are at wasn’t for an office job.

It was so lucky that you have the opportunity to even be interviewed for such good paid job and whilst most people wouldn’t want to be an over glorified babysitter you’d much rather have this job that the limited jobs women have nowadays.

With your head held down thinking too much about the pros and cons of working a ‘normal’ office job you did realise instead of with some rich children the sound of clip-clooping heels on the ground.

You keep you head down as you here another woman speaking to the secretary, her American accent sending chills down your spine.

She more or less asks the same thing as you did and you hear her sit down near you.

For a while you both stay quite but whether it be through nerves or her just being polite, she begins talking to you.

‘Hi-‘ you look up to her shyly not looking her in the eyes, ‘I’m Dani.’

It’s so hard not to stare at her for the woman in front of you, Dani is utterly beautiful, the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.

Your little queer heart is beating too fast and you you’re sure you mouth is hanging open in pure shock.

‘(Y-y/n), nice to meet you.’ Out of pure politeness you hold out your hand.

Her lips curve up into a smile as her bigger, smoother hand encapsulates yours in a rather enthusiastic hand shake.

Is it an American thing that she’s shaking your hand so long or is she glad to see you, a random stranger?

Unknown to you Dani has be smitten with you ever since she walked in and saw you nervous looking figure. Call it gaydar but both you and Dani know straight away that neither of you are straight and it’s quite comforting that you both are near one another.

‘I’m sorry, I’m shaking your hand too much.’ She says retracting her hand from yours.

You really want to say ‘I don’t mind’ but all you do is stammer out some random words and look back down.

For the next five or so minute both of you steal glances at each other.

Dani keeps on looking at you fiddling hands, the curve of you face and how your eyes sparkle under the yellowing lights.

You keep on looking her up and down at the outfit she wears. It’s overly fancy compared to yours, her bowed blouse contrasting with her synched button up suit.

Once again you look at her but this time you both catch each other’s eyes, you quickly looking away.

‘You like what you see?’ Dani half jokes hoping that you do like what you see.

For a moment you think. If this was a gay bar or somewhere without straight people watching then you would have flirted back but you can’t out yourself in front of the desk woman. So instead you change the subject.

‘Why are you wearing a bum bag under such a nice suit?’

‘Bum bag? Oh, you mean my fanny pack.’ Dani rearranges her blazer to cover up the bag going across her hips.

‘I’ve lived in east London for almost ten years, we call them bum bags.’ Finally, you look up to her face.

‘Where are you originally from?’ her eyes connect with your but you don not look away this time.

‘(Place).’ You plainly say, ‘Though I do want to move somewhere less hectic.’

‘I guess it’s why you want this job.’

‘It’s good pay and in the countryside, who wouldn’t.’

‘Well that’s hope one of get the job!’ her smile is bright and it makes you blush.

Neither of you got the job.

Apparently, the secretary didn’t reprimand you both for being late was because there was already a person being interviewed.

Said person, an older woman with greying hair and a strict headteacher look, had gotten the job.

You and Dani sit at a bar, leg almost touching as you both sip on your alcoholic drinks.

‘I think I seemed to meek.’ You say downing your drink, ‘He seemed too sad and I found it hard to look him in the eyes.’

‘It’s his loss, I would have hired you in a second over that crow looking woman.’

You giggle in delight as Dani’s hand travels down and pats your leg. You place you hand over hers making her keep her hand on you. Thankfully your hands are cover by the top of the bar so no one can see your hands connecting.

She squeezes your thigh and you both just sit there, her talking and you looking down at her hand.

‘It is bad that we didn’t get the job but if you want, I have some beers and a VHS player back home if you want to come and watch a film with me?’

‘I’d like that very much (y/n).’

haha! i’m not dead!

as said at the top, sorry this is so short. i might have to rewatch Bly again but i’m happy to take more bly manor requests.

#dani clayton x reader #the haunting series #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor x reader #dani x #any female reader can read this #basically for the queers

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harrisonstories · 4 years

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NOTE: This a beautiful article by Paul Theroux which I thought was apt for today. There aren’t many writers who I feel “get” George, but Theroux is an exception.

George Harrison - Something in the way he moved us

As Martin Scorsese's portrait of George Harrison is released, celebrated novelist Paul Theroux looks at the man who went from mop-top to mystic

It is a happy thought that the sweetest music arises from an untroubled heart. As though from the sky, here is this strong and contented virtuoso – George Harrison, say – whom we envy for being strong, someone supremely contented. What a lucky man to be able to create such harmony and to penetrate our soul; to make us feel better, to help heal us and ease our minds. Isn't it pretty to think so?

The truth is usually the opposite of this. The art that is indestructible and always fresh never comes easy. Its source is typically uncertain or bleak, sometimes harrowing, the pure notes quavering over an abyss of shadows between life and death, that mournful place from which the most passionate yearnings take shape in the form of a song, a poem, a story, a harmonious vision. But even as I write this, speaking of the complex process of creation, words and music made of doubt and the divided self, the conflicts that help us to be sane, and the paradox of opposites, I seem to hear someone mutter over my shoulder, "Rock music is about as metaphysical as my Aunt Fanny..."

And yet it seems to me impossible to overestimate the resonant clarity of George Harrison's music – his songs of innocence and experience; or the subtle wisdom of his lyrics. Even as a relative youngster, more than 30 years before his untimely death, in his All Things Must Pass album, he was singing powerfully of transformation, in the title track, and "Art of Dying," and "Beware of Darkness," and "What is Life." He could be as jolly as his ukulele-strumming hero and namesake, George Formby, but as soon as he seizes our attention with his humour and his teasing, he is reminding us – and himself – that we are mortal and all things end.

George at his best was a man dedicated to whittling down his ego; he was not one being but many and he remains an enduring figure of fascination to those of us for whom his music runs through our head, reminding us of better times. It is no wonder he was so passionate: he was himself his own wicked twin. He made no bones about this and, a hater of pomposity in all forms, he expressed it with characteristic downright-ness:

"I have this kind of strange thing," he said, "and I put it down to being a Pisces. Pisces is the sign of two fish. The way I see it is that one half is going where the other half has just been. I was in the West and I was into rock'n'roll, getting crazy, staying up all night and doing whatever was supposed to be the wrong things. That's in conflict with all the right things, which is what I learned through India – like getting up early, going to bed early, taking care of yourself and having some sort of spiritual quality to your life. I've always had this conflict."

He was at odds with himself, but who isn't? In that respect "living proof of all life's contradictions," as he put it, he resembles most of us. We recognise him as a kindred soul in his contradictions – and though his life was lived on a vast scale, he was unusually truthful, and in his songs much more explicit than we dare to be. He made it his mission to explore his contradictions in his own way, through his music. So, to say that he was one of the great musicians of his time – one of the most innovative guitarists ever, most imaginative songwriters – is to give only part of the story. "The quiet one," is the stereotypical description of the man – but he was on fire within. To make music that mattered over the years, to bring renewal with each work, he seemed determined to burn out one self after another.

"He had karma to work out," his widow, Olivia, is on the record as saying. "He wasn't going come back and be bad. He was going to be good and bad and loving and angry and everything all at once. You know, if someone said to you, 'okay, you can go through your life and you can have everything in five lifetimes, or you can have a really intense one and have it in one, and then you can go and be liberated,' he would have said, 'give me the one, I'm not coming back here.'"

I also think there's a stark difference between "contradiction" and "confusion". He wasn't confused; had he been he would have found it impossible to search and learn with such clear-sightedness. His friend and mentor Ravi Shankar said that George exhibited tyagi, a Sanskrit term for a feeling of non-attachment or renunciation. Shankar wondered how this aspect of enlightenment could have come so clearly to a worldly lad from Liverpool. It doesn't seem odd to me that this thoughtful man came to feel the sense of freedom bordering on exaltation that mendicants experience in non-attachment. But it is a notable, and noble, quality in a rock star to practice it, as George did.

We all feel that we could do a bit better in our lives; in the secret history of this imaginative soul, George was active in pursuing this path. Surely it arose in large part from his having had everything while still young. At 19 or 20 he was on top of the world – inspiring the world to sing and dance. Performing with The Beatles gave him joy – gave us all joy. But he did not see this exuberance as a final fulfilment; the very fact of The Beatles as a musical and financial phenomenon made him doubtful enough to begin to look for a higher meaning, and – after The Beatles – to go on looking. He knew he was living in the material world, but had he been so attached to it he would not have been able to look deeper into it.

Early in his life as a musician, towards the end of the explosive new sound of The Beatles (and much more than music, it was a seismic shift in popular culture), George found his way to India. Through music and meditation, and the mantras that he chanted until the very end of his life, he was drawn to an unselfish, and ultimately a more mystical view of the world. The man who could make a whole stadium rock began to see silence as another ideal. He has described himself as an idle, smirking, doodling student at school, and yet in India he became devout and studious, a reader of the swamis – and notably, of Swami Vivekananda.

What has become apparent in the decade since his death is the uncanny symmetry of George's life – a life lived to the fullest. What might have seemed random or impulsive in him while he lived, is, in retrospect, a pattern, part performance, part pilgrimage.

His saturation in the material world drove him to seek the spirit in things – and so his life seems a series of vanishings and reappearances, journeys there and back, and even the portraits of him that seem iconic are various, a progression of so many faces, his features, his hair, his posture – different in each one. Yet his gaze is unchanged, his eyes telling us that the same soul is inhabiting this body.

All this sounds solemn, but he was a man of subtle and often self-mocking humour. George was interested in many things beside music, and although music was his first love, he was vitalised by travel, movie-making, and car racing. Look at his friends – the Pythons Gilliam and Idle, Jackie Stewart, Billy Preston, Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan, Ravi Shankar: the funniest men on Earth, the fastest, his most brilliant contemporaries in music.

But equal to his passion for music, and his diverse and close friendships, was an overwhelming desire to get back to earth – literally so, to dig, to plant trees, to surround himself with flowers that he himself had grown. The most obvious characteristic of the houses that he built, or bought and fixed up in the course of his life, are the gardens he planned and planted. No matter how extraordinary the houses, the gardens he created around them surpassed the bricks and mortar. In George's case the gardens he made gave him the sense that he was living in isolation, on an island of his own making. "...it's great when I'm in my garden, but the minute I go out the gate I think: 'What the hell am I doing here?'"

"From the day I met him he was defiant," Olivia said, "and so determined that nothing was going to stop him from leaping as far as he could."

She was thinking of his words in the song "Run of the Mill": "How high will you leap?/ Will you make enough for you to reap it?/ Only you'll arrive – at your own made end/ With no one but yourself to be offended/ It's you that decides."

- “Something in the way he moved us”, Independent (Sep. 2011)

#george harrison #olivia harrison #paul theroux #the beatles #ravi shankar #living in the material world #all things must pass #independent #2011

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finsterhund · 3 years

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A comprehensive guide to Heart of Darkness lost media. Fake, and real

a forward: there appears to be some sort of conflict between Eric Chahi and Frederic Savoir. Things Eric speaks about, Fred denies. However Eric generally has proof to support his side of things but Fred never provides such.

I will edit this as I go along. I intend to source things as best I can. I will not post it to a better website until it is adequately sourced.

I’m not currently planning to include press material, promotional renders, alternate releases of the final game, etc. here (yet!! that may change)

The Movie

What we know is true:

Dreamworks was interested in adapting Heart of Darkness as a feature-length computer animated movie. Predominant parties at play were Jeffery Katzenberg and Steven Spielberg. They invited several of the devs including Eric to the Dreamworks studio in LA, showed them Prince of Egypt storyboards, and toured them around. The movie was never made and development was never started.

According to Eric, the head of Virgin Interactive, Martin Alper repeatedly went to Paris to bother and harass him to abandon all work on the game and give the movie rights to Katzenberg. Eric didn’t want to throw away all that work and wanted to release the game first. Alper abandoned the team and project soon after, dooming the game to years of development hell as they needed to find a new publisher. Fred claimed that “half of the article (in which Eric discussed this) was incorrect” but never went into detail as to how or why

Rumors:

Even though George Lucas was interested in HoD’s display at several expos, he did not involve himself in any film ideas. It is believed he may have stolen ideas of alien monster designs for use in the Phantom Menace but this can easily just be coincidence and is unfounded.

The movie was not going to be live action despite some fan speculation.

The Pilot Animation/character test

What we know:

In Eric Chahi’s biography he mentions that a small animation studio did contract work of some animation concepts for Heart of Darkness. They were ultimately replaced with what Amazing would go with. This may or may not be associated with the same concepts as when they briefly thought to make the cinematics with 2D bitmaps but it is unclear. Eric states that this pilot was made however and in a demo reel from the studio they mention working with Virgin and Amazing Studio.

Rumors:

Fred said it wasn’t a thing but didn’t clarify.

This might have been the opening cutscene in 2D, or it may have just been character models and test animation. It is currently lost entirely with no actual stills of the thing itself.

Blood

What we know:

Someone untrustworthy but people latch onto this sort of shit said the original version of the game has blood in it. We know from tradeshow footage, digging through the final game’s code, an early build of the game, etc. that if anything the original versions were LESS violent. There is no evidence there was ever blood. Anymore than there’s evidence of the poison berries (which we will get to later)

The Gameboy Advance port

What we know:

Heart of Darkness was going to be ported to the Gameboy advance. According to Frederic Savoir the project was quickly canned due to cartridge costs that Nintendo didn’t want to pay for.

Rumors:

Someone claiming to work on this port said that Infogrames founder Bruno Bonnel wanted the game to have an Adidas promotion and change Andy’s shoes. Fred says this isn’t true, and there’s no evidence that this was ever an actual thing.

The Jaguar Version

What we know:

Heart of Darkness was briefly considered to be published on the Atari Jaguar. There are internal letters discussing how good of an asset it would be for the console. That’s as far as it ever apparently went.

The fake developer copypasta:

A copypasta of obviously fake ideas that were potentially given from Amazing to this apparent Jaguar dev has been passed around since 2014. This included poison berries that would make Andy explode, fan-theory sorta ideas about how other children perished in the darkland, a magic mirror, and what is very clearly just the maggots from spiritual successor “Limbo”. This individual provided no proof and his story was far from convincing. And no evidence that someone other than the Amazing team themselves having access to official development code from the game has ever been brought forward.

The Saturn Version

What we know:

Before the game ultimately came out for Playstation, it was going to be a timed exclusive for the Sega Saturn with Sega purchasing an exclusivity from Virgin Interactive. This fell through due to Virgin intentionally (according to Eric) throwing a monkey wrench in things and the Saturn was not viable when they were finally able to publish the game after getting picked up by Infogrames.

There is an incomplete playable demo of the first level and first two story cinematics in English and Japanese from the 1996 Toy Tokyo Show. In it there are slight programming differences such as a screen sliding transition animation, the inability for spectres to eat Andy, features cut from the final game involving the shadow dogs that are still mostly present in the final game’s code, and some slight graphical differences.

Frederic said the Saturn was easy for him to program on, and he finished things quickly so it was likely fully playable but no complete copy has been found.

Rumors:

It is unknown if there is a full build of this version of the game for Saturn. The Toy Tokyo Show build is the only publicly known one.

Based on footage from other events it appears to be from after changes were made to spectre sound effects and some behaviors. So this may have been a build from after the game was altered to be “easier” as mentioned by Eric Chahi at the time.

The Phillips CDI Version

What we know:

Heart of Darkness was offhanded mentioned a handful of times in a few CDI magazines in 1996. But there is no actual evidence the game was actually in development for the console and it was never confirmed in more trustworthy publications. CDI has less evidence than the planning letters of the Jaguar version. A supposed slipcover of a Heart of Darkness CDI CD was supposedly in existence but the guy claiming to have it couldn’t or wouldn’t prove this, with the only evidence appearing as convincing as a fake mock-up photoshop job and CDI websites discussing the final version of the game in full despite providing no evidence development for the console existed in the first place.

The most likely explanation is some idiot at Virgin said “CDI” when discussing this at-the-time secretive project because it would have had to be on a CD-based console and there weren’t that many of them yet at the time and this slip up briefly spread.

The iMac Version

What we know:

There was discussion of a Mac OS version of the game being developed, but nothing about the final product has surfaced online.

There was a page titled “imac” on the official website but the image files weren’t archived.

Heart of Dakness: The Return of Shados

What we know:

A scam artist on indiegogo pretended to be affiliated with Amazing Studio by using stolen assets and copying the kickstarter campaign of a different indie game in an effort to scam HoD fans out of money.

Both Eric Chahi and Frederic Savoir collectively agreed that this was a big fat scam.

It got taken down in under 24 hours of its discovery after I personally called the guy out on being a scamming piece of fucking shit and tattled to Fred.

As it was a scam with its only “evidence” being stolen text and doctored fan art and concept art from the original game, it’s very obvious nothing about this mess actually existed.

Delicious meal.

Merchandise (various)

What we know:

There are photos of merchandise, there have been real items show up, and there have been rumors or discussion of potential merchandise. Real confirmed ones include:

The Vicious and Amigo action figures. Given away for contests, at trade shows, sold on the infogrames store, and potentially included as part of a special box set of the French version

The Japanese big box version came with a mousepad. It is different than the round mousepad that also exists. We do not know where the round mousepad originated from. Potentially tradeshows or contests like the other items here.

Playstation controller and memory card. A memory card was sold separate in the UK, and in France a controller and memory card set were sold. Only photo of the set is in Eric’s collection. Memory card has shown up several times online. I own a complete sealed one.

The hat. Given away at press events, potentially worn by team members, and a version was also available on the infogrames store. Only physically existing version documented has the VIRGIN logo on it however so there’s definitely variations

Skateboard and t-shirt. Discussed in contests. Photos in magazines. Have never shown up so far. skateboard may have been available on infogrames store.

Photos exist of a backpack and fanny pack. Eric has these, the only known ones to exist, in his collection. Fred said they were officially released but they have yet to show up.

Rumored Merch:

A blanket. Briefly mentioned as if it genuinely existed on a French forum

Probably more tbh but my memory is shit. As I am writing this it is 2AM

#text post #long post #heart of darkness #lost media

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misscrawfords · 5 years

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So you want to read something like Jane Austen?

I see lots of posts where people answer this question with recommendations for classic historical romance authors like Georgette Heyer or more modern bodice-rippers like Julia Quinn or Tessa Dare. But to me that’s never quite the appropriate answer. Sure, if what you want is romance with country dancing and breeches, that’s fine, but surely if you want to read more things similar to Jane Austen, the best way to do that is to delve into her lesser known contemporaries. People Austen admired and people who admired her. People writing on similar themes and using similar language.

So this is my list of 10 novels from the 18th and early 19th century that you might like to try if you’ve read Austen and want to branch out more. These are just personal recommendations and based off what I’ve read; I’m very happy to hear other suggestions!

Worth noting as well that all of these are available online or free for kindle download. :)

1. Evelina, or the History of a Young Lady's Entrance into the World by Fanny Burney (1778) Summary: Evelina Anville is a shy, innocent country girl who is invited to London by friends. Here, she attempts to navigate the complicated social mores of the season while keeping her integrity. She encounters handsome men, vulgar relations and gets into numerous alarming and hilarious scrapes along the way to discovering her true noble heritage and winning the love and hand of the charming Lord Orville. Why you should read it: A great first novel for Austen fans to get into who aren’t otherwise familiar with literature of the period. Burney’s first novel is sparkling, witty, filled with dialogue and not very long. The humour is more robust than Austen’s - it’s definitely Georgian rather than Regency - but a lot of the scenarios will be familiar to Austen readers. Particularly recommended for fans of Northanger Abbey, Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice and readers who like historical romances set during the London season.

2. Cecilia, or Memoirs of an Heiress by Fanny Burney (1782) Summary: Cecilia Beverley is an orphaned heiress who will only inherit her fortune on the very specific condition that her husband takes her name. Until she turns 21 she is left with three very different guardians - the profligate Mr. Harrell, the proud Mr. Delvile, and the vulgar Mr. Briggs. Cecilia must protect herself from the advances of the unscrupulous fortune hunters she meets and deal with her feelings for young Mortimer Delvile, whose family is excessively proud of its ancient name. Why you should read it: IMO Cecilia is a masterpiece. It’s a much longer and complex novel than Evelina but it contains fierce social satire and commentary of a world where women are horribly vulnerable and money rules all interactions pointing forwards to authors like Dickens and Eliot. Burney is a little more moralistic and less witty here but it’s a fascinating portrayal of a highly intelligent and capable, independent woman in a world where she is constrained by the men around her, in the kind of plot that romance novelists can only dream of. It’s also worth noting that Pride and Prejudice was arguably written as a response to Cecilia and it is very interesting to spot and consider the ways in which Austen was explicitly influenced by this novel and what she changed in writing Pride and Prejudice. Particularly recommended for fans of Pride and Prejudice and Emma. Please note that this novel contains a suicide and (period appropriate) mental illness.

3. Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1801) Summary: Belinda Portman is sent to live with the fashionable Lady Delacour in London with whom she develops a strong friendship. Part of the plot deals with Lady Delacour’s fear that she has breast cancer and part with the customary romantic entanglements of a young girl out in the London season. Why you should read it: Maria Edgeworth was one of the most popular novelists of Austen’s day - and was far more commercially successful. Belinda is her second novel and has been compared to Austen for its natural portrayal of character. Lady Delacour is the most interesting character - a slightly older woman, independent, strong-minded and fearless. Particularly recommended for fans of Persuasion, Lady Susan, Sanditon and of potentially queer subtext, intriguing references to interracial marriages (look it up!) and 18th century surgery.

4. Patronage by Maria Edgeworth (1814) Summary: A magnum opus almost Dickensian in scale charting the rises and falls of two neighbouring families, the hard-working and virtuous Percy family and the ambitious, scheming Falconers. The daughters need marriages, the sons need careers and the paterfamilias of each family must make tough decisions about what he wants his family to stand for. Why you should read it: This novel is admittedly a brick and tough to get through at times but it really is worth it. You are plunged into Regency society in a way no other contemporary novel succeeds in with a large and varied cast of characters. The novel also takes you into the world of men and their professions in a way that Austen never does. Particularly recommended for fans of Mansfield Park (which was published in the same year) and people who want to learn more about Regency society in all its forms.

5. Rob Roy by Walter Scott (1817) Summary: Romantic Frank Osbaldistone leaves his father’s business in London to visit his cousins in north England where he meets and falls in love with the beautiful and charming Diana Vernon, gets caught up in a Jacobite plot and the scheming of his wicked cousin, Rashleigh, and meets the famous Scottish outlaw, Rob Roy. Why you should read it: There were several Scott novels that could be included here but I picked Rob Roy for its attractive portrayal of Diana, since Scott is not always great at writing 3D heroines Austen fans will like. Scott was the most successful novelist at the time, bursting onto the novel scene writing novels with a male protagonist at a time when most novels were by, for and about women. Scott and Austen admired each other a great deal despite writing in very different genres, with Scott writing historical romances rather than contemporary social satires. Particularly recommended for fans of Persuasion, Northanger Abbey and Pride and Prejudice.

6. The Mysteries of Udolpho by Ann Radcliffe (1794) Summary: Set vaguely in the 16th century, this most famous gothic novel follows the adventures of Emily St Aubert from her father’s French estate to Venice with her aunt, Madame Cheron after he dies and then, when her aunt marries the sinister Montoni, to his castle in the Italian Apennines. Why you should read it: C’mon, it’s Udolpho! Don’t you want to know what’s behind the infamous black veil? Northanger Abbey will be 10 times better once you’ve read Udolpho and despite the excessive amount of fainting, overuse of the word “sublime” and far too many spontaneous reciting of poetry, it’s a genuinely engaging adventure novel with larger-than-life characters, daring adventures, and some really beautiful descriptions of France and Italy. Particularly recommended for fans of Northanger Abbey, obviously.

7. Nightmare Abbey by Thomas Love Peacock (1818) Summary: Utterly ridiculous gothic satire with a tenuous plot about a morose widower who lives with his son, Scythrop, in a crumbling mansion in Lincolnshire, but you’re not reading this for the plot. Why you should read it: I read it for university, having never heard of it before, and found it hilarious. Published in the same year as Northanger Abbey, it is similar in poking fun at gothic conventions. It depends on a reasonable knowledge of gothic novels and contemporary literature and philosophy so not a novel for beginners to undertake unless you have an edition with a commentary, but it’s very short and absolutely absurd. Particularly recommended for fans of Northanger Abbey and the Juvenilia.

8. Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded by Samuel Richardson (1740) Summary: Pamela is a maid in Mr. B’s house and must use all her ingenuity to fend off her employer’s advances and convert his many and increasingly desperate attempts to seduce her into a marriage proposal. Why you should read it: Pamela was a sensation when it was first published. Written in the form of letters, it was arguably the first novel to really get into the brain of a young woman and was quite radical in its treatment of the relationship between the sexes, consequently being highly influential on subsequent novels. Any of Richardson’s novels could deserve a place here - Clarissa is arguably his best but it’s ridiculously long and I haven’t read it, and Sir Charles Grandison was apparently Austen’s favourite novel but I also haven’t read it. Pamela is probably the most approachable but please note, in case the summary didn’t set off enough alarm bells, its depiction of consent is very much of its time. Particularly recommended for fans of the literary culture into which Austen was born.

9. Marriage by Susan Ferrier (1813) Summary: Lady Juliana rather foolishly elopes with an impoverished Scot and must adapt to living in his rundown estate in the Highlands. The first half of the novel deals with Juliana’s comic attempts to deal with this rough kind of living while the second half, set 17 years later, follows Juliana’s daughter, Mary, a virtuous girl, who goes to live in Bath with her cousins, including the “naughty” Adelaide. Why you should read it: Ferrier was another author much more popular than Austen at the time. Marriage is similar to Burney and Edgeworth in its plots and scopes and there are moments when she almost reaches Austen’s wit. It is, however, rather more heavy-handed in its obvious morality and in the way it contrasts its good heroine and bad (but far more appealing) anti-heroine. Very typical of women’s novels of the time. Particularly recommended for fans of Sense and Sensibility and Mansfield Park.

10. St Ronan’s Well by Walter Scott (1824) Summary: This novel follows Francis Tyrell and his attempts to marry his former love, Clara Mowbray, and fend off his rival, the engaging but sinister Lord Etherington. All of this is set under a backdrop of the gossip and scandal-mongering of a fictional Scottish spa town. Why you should read it: This is a self-indulgent inclusion - I wrote my dissertation on it, Scott’s least known and least loved novel. It’s Scott’s only attempt to write a contemporary novel and it is obvious that he is influenced by Austen and trying in many ways to emulate her. It’s not entirely successful and the novel is an uneasy mix of sparkling dialogue and social satire with melodrama and romantic tragedy. The characters are really great, however, particularly Scott’s portrayal of Clara’s deep unhappiness, and the plot quite shocking- make sure you get hold of a first edition or at least read up on it, as Scott was later forced to remove his earlier references to pre-marital sex, which is really key for the plot. Particularly recommended for fans of Emma, Mansfield Park and Persuasion.

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nickmuch · 5 years

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c.z.k - high school (part 1)

PART 2 / PART 3

Note: another day, another nothing-to-do-at-work-so-imma-write moment! This time for my baby z bc why not. Also, this ended up being WAY longer than expected. Wrote nearly 5 pages, but that’s what happens when you’re bored

I walked down the hallway quickly. The bell would soon ring and I really didn’t feel like being late to class. Again. On my second official day on this new school. So, I picked up my pace thinking it was a good idea, but oh boy was I wrong. Keyword: boy.

Suddenly, I bumped into something and fell down. When I looked up, I saw a tall boy with pretty tan skin. He was beautiful. His hair was twisted into dreads and pulled together by a baby blue scrunchie to securely get them out of his face. He had mesmerizing deer eyes, his lashes so long and beautifully curled. And his lips. Oh god, his lips. Slightly pouty and parted. A hand was stretched out in front of me. He spoke first, making me abruptly stop staring at him and turn my gaze low. “You good? Did you hurt yourself of something?”. Grabbing his hand, I allowed him to help me on my feet. “Erm … no, it’s all good. Sorry, I wasn’t really looking because I- “. The ring of the bell interrupted me. “- was gonna be late to class. And now I am” I finished. He gave me a quick nod before slowly making his way down the other side of the hall, probably already wondering what stupid story he had to tell his teacher for being late.

“Honestly, if you are allowed to skip, then I am too”. Startled by the voice I turned around just to be met by my friend Edwin. Beside him, a boy with glasses and tousled dark hair waved at me shily. We weren’t even really friends yet. My parents were no longer here so his mom decided that as the daughter of her best friend, I should stay with them from now on instead of a shelter or relative I didn’t even know. Truth be told, I hadn’t seen the Honorets in years since my mom used to always visit them on her own during her business trips to New York. However, they made me feel welcome and home quite immediately, so I didn’t feel uncomfortable with staying with them. At first, Edwin protested a little bit because me moving in meant that he had to room with his two little siblings, so I could have his.

“Edwin and friend of Edwin, go to class”. Rolling my eyes, I tried to make my way down the hall. “Mrs. Robertson won’t let you in her class now anyways. She doesn’t tolerate tardiness” his friend spoke. “And you are?” I asked kind of annoyed. “Oh, that’s Brandon” Edwin chirped in. “And we” he gestured between the three of us before locking his arm with mine and the other with Brandon’s. “Are going to enjoy this beautiful free lesson”. And thus, we reluctantly followed him into the empty art room, so he could finish his painting while Brandon and I just mingled around, occasionally saying a thing here and there.

“Ed, I am hungry! We’ve been in this room for hours now. Haven’t you finished your painting by now?” Brandon complained. I just agreed with an exaggerated nod of my head. “Ugh, fine! You guys are too uncultured to understand the true beauty and excitement in this. An artist needs their time and full concentration to paint a masterpiece and-” he rambled without an end on sight.

“Is he always like this? I’ve only been here for a week and most of my time was spent with the kiddos anyways”. His friend laughed and answered with a genuine smile and nod. “- but since it’s time for lunch now anyways and I am starving, I think it’s time for a proper break”.

Happily, we jumped up and dragged him behind us to the cafeteria. After getting our food, they slowly made their way towards a table in the back of the lunch room. Three guys were already sitting there talking and when we got closer, I noticed a familiar face. My cheeks burned under his heavy gaze. “Guys, this is my friend I told y’all about” Edwin turned to them to fully introduce me. “… so this is Austin” he pointed to the boy with the anime backpack on his side of the table. Austin gave me a quick smile before the shorter boy with a base cap on his head spoke up. “I am Nick. Nice to meet you”. He shook my hand firmly and sat down.

“And this is –“

“Zion” the boy from earlier interrupted Ed. “Uhm, yeah. This is Zion. Thanks for interrupting, man. I am totally used to this by now” he complained about his friend, which made the rest of the group laugh. Everyone, but me and Zion. His eyes never left mine when I sat down between Ed and B. It made me feel nervous to have a guy stare at me like that. It wasn’t even a staring, but more like an observing. I felt like he didn’t like me, though. His gaze made me feel uncomfortable and like an intruder to their group. Shaking my head slightly, I tried to join the conversation between the other four. “This party will be massive!” Nick exclaimed. “It’s the beginning of the school year, everyone will go. Trust and believe!”. Brandon and Austin seemed so hyped about it already, dragging Nick into their own little conversation to plan everything for the upcoming night. “We’re going, right?” Edwin asked me precisely.

Honestly, it was really nice and cute of him to include me in everything and making me genuinely feel like a part of his family and friends. He had even introduced me as his “twin sister from another mister” to our teachers. Our math teacher was very confused by it and asked Edwin how that was even possible, to which he only answered with “Mr. T! With all due respect, but you’re asking too many questions, sir. She’s my twin sister that used to live somewhere in Canada or something, ion even know. T’was Canada, right?”. He didn’t even give me a chance to answer him. “Doesn’t really matter. What matters is, that she’s here and she’s here to stay! And we might not look alike and she might have a different last name”. This made me cackle. “But! She’s still my twin sister and that’s all to know”. Mr. Toya seemed to regret even asking by the way he had already dragged Edwin out of his class in hopes of making him stop talking.

“Sure” I answered him with a soft smile. It was clear that they wanted to go and I didn’t want to be the party pooper by saying no. “Great! Aye yo Z, you picking us up by 8 then?”. That’s when I noticed that his eyes were still on me. Zion nodded shortly without ever breaking eye contact.

Later in the evening I found myself in Edwin’s room – or how he liked to call it “the twin closet” since more than half of it was full with boxes of mine and also his clothes. He sure had more things to wear than I did, though. “Look, if you wear this white crop t-shirt” he rummaged through a box of mine. “And this silky thingy here” he was holding up my darkish red silky jogger pants. “Plus your white air force one’s and this dope black fanny pack” he handed me all the items. “Then, you won’t overshine my fit and we gucci”. His smile was so dangerously serious that it made me not want to mess with him when it came to outfits. So, I just gave him an “Okay”, and got up to get dressed in the bathroom.

Even though, I didn’t feel like going, I still found myself in the backseat of Zion’s car quietly humming along to the Drake and PARTYNEXTDOOR song that was playing. It was nice and chill rather than too loud and hype on our way to the place. The boys didn’t even let him finish park the car before running off to god knows where in the house. “I guess it’s only you and me then, tonight” he said. I was okay with this, even though his presence did make me feel nervous since I couldn’t really read him as easily as I could with the rest of PRETTYMUCH. Apparently their 5-person-group had a name due to the fact that he used to over-use the word back in middle school and thus, it just stuck with them from then on.

“Z! Over here!” A girl with long and straight dark hair waved from the other side of the front yard. Her black dress was cut low in the front, complimenting her curves perfectly. With her heels-clad feet, she tried to make her way over to him. “Shit, gotta go! You on your own, I guess”. He rushed over to her before she could reach us, giving her a tight hug and leaving me all by myself in a foreign neighborhood of a foreign city with foreign people surrounding me. Great.

I spent most of the night in the kitchen, drinking some soda out of a blue solo cup. A couple hours had passed and three drinks later, I found myself wandering around the big house trying to find the bathroom. The one on the ground floor was obviously occupied by some horny teenagers, so I went upstairs. On my way down again, I heard faint music playing from one of the rooms.

Curiosity took the best of me and even though there was a high possibility I was going to walk into a couple trying to have fun, I still decided to open the door. To my surprise I didn’t find anyone in there trying to do the deed, but instead I found Zion sitting on the edge of the bed. One hand playing with his cup and the other gripping onto his phone securely. He didn’t even notice me with his eyes lowly staring at his feet.

“I sure hope it’s just some water you’re drinking”. His head shot up, tensing, before letting loose once he realized it was just me. “It’s coke. No alcohol. I don’t really drink”. He gave me an all over look before motioning for me to sit down next to him. The bed was small, so our legs were touching.

“What happened to your lady friend? Why are you chilling here all alone?” I wanted to know. After all, they did seem very familiar earlier. “Asya? Nah, she’s just a good friend of ours. A bit like a little sister”. Understanding what he said, I nodded and just continued to aimlessly look around the room. “And for the all alone part” he spoke up after a while. “I don’t feel like partying.”. “Yeah, same” I breathed out.

“Tell you what?”. He looked up with his full attention on me now. “You seem stressed and I think you might need someone to talk to that’s not part of your little PRETTYMUCH group” grinningly I said. With my hand I pushed his chest to make him lay down on the bed. Zion obliged and I waited for him to get comfortable before grabbing his phone to play another song. “Now tell me”. My head rested right next to his and my body was pressed right on him. Every inch of my left side was touching him somehow. “I’ll start then if you want?” I figured it would be easier for him to open up that way. With that, I told him about it all. From the reason I ended up in New York to Edwin’s glorious idea that I would be his twin. “I should’ve known. Edwin and his egghead always on some weird shit, I swear.” He had said in realization. Also, I let him know about my worst and best childhood memories, or the first time I tried to sneak out and how my dad caught me. Basically, everything that came to my mind.

“I don’t know what to say. It’s hard for me to talk about feelings and stuff” he finally said after I was done talking. No more stories were left to be told, I think he knew me better than I knew myself by now.

“Oh, so you like someone? Feelings and all?”. Patiently I waited for him to answer. This time, it was me who searched for his eyes to lock them in place with mine. For a second, I could feel him stop breathing. The soft voice of Bryson Tiller took over the room.

“There’s a time and place for all this

This is not the place for all this

Is there a reason why you’re saying all this?

And can we talk about it later?”

His gaze flickered between my eyes and over my face. “Maybe”. He licked his lips nervously. “Kinda. Or maybe not. I don’t know”. He grew more and more anxious by the second and I was sure he thought he was doing a great job by keeping a poker face, but really he was horrible at it. I could finally read him and to tell the truth, I didn’t mind what I found out.

Now, my heart started beating faster and doubt was slowly taking over me. Yet, I still said “Then find it out. Just take the risk”. With one last inhale of air, Zion took all of his courage and leaned in, capturing his soft lips with mine. It felt different, but a good different. A different I could get used to. My hand cautiously crept up his arm, delicately going up and down while we found a steady rhythm. A small moan escaped his lips. I silently prayed to god and begged him to make this moment last forever. He didn’t seem like a stranger to me anymore. It was as if we’ve known each other longer than we really thought, but at the same time this was crazy. All of this was crazy. Yesterday, I didn’t even know the name Zion existed. And yet, here I was, him kissing me and gripping my thigh. (I’ve been listening to Phases on repeat for days now, can you tell?)Promptly, he pulled away with full force. “I can’t, I mean we- we can’t! We shouldn’t” he bursted out. “Edwin is gonna be so disappointed in me when he finds out”. I wanted to silence him and say how that wasn’t true, but next thing I knew, the door flew open revealing – of course because the universe wouldn’t let me kiss a cute boy in peace for once – Edwin. Behind him the other three reluctantly followed like lost puppies. “So, I put two and two together and my senses did not betray me! I had a feeling y’all were up to something nasty in here!”. With a sigh, he was interrupted by Austin. “He’s lying, someone saw how first Zion and later you went in here. And for some odd reason, Eggie is playing protective brother”.

“Okay, so whatchu tryin’ to tell me is that we goin’ home cause Ed had some to drink and you need my car?”.

“… Yep”.

Zion abruptly got to his feet, pulling me up with him in the process. The ride home was actually quite peaceful. Nick and Brandon fell asleep, all cuddled up while Austin tried to stop Edwin from drunk texting some random girl he hadn’t talked to in years. We drove them home, one after another left. When we arrived at the Honoret house, Edwin was quick on his feet. “I need my bed” he mumbled, rushing into the house.

This left me and Zion alone. Shily, I dared to turn my head towards him trying to see the expression his face held. “You know …” he began. His voice sounded a little shaky, yet it didn’t stop him from saying what was circling around in that precious head of his. “I think we can. And I think we should”. The smile on Zion’s face was contagious, I couldn’t contain myself from smiling back. Before walking to my front door, he gave me a long chaste kiss on the lips leaving me dizzy and occupied with my own cloudy thoughts.

“I think so, too” I whispered to no one in particular but myself while drifting off to a much needed peaceful sleep.

NOTE: I legit wrote all of this today in like idk 3 hours?? Whew chile, but it was worth it because I passed some time. Only two more hours left at work and I have nothing to do. Might start writing another imagine to pass some more time.

#zion kuwonu #edwin honoret #brandon arreaga #nick mara #austin porter #fanfic #zion kuwonu imagines #edwin honoret imagine #brandon arreaga imagines #nick mara imagines #austin porter imagines #prettymuch #pm #pm blurbs #pm fanfic #pm imagines #writing #blurbs

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amarantine-amirite · 4 years

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Location, Location...Oh, There It Is

Pool-marts. Theme parks. Big-ass churches with funny signs. Trucking lots. A KFC that looks suspiciously like the Hagia Sofia. You won't believe how much stuff exists off the side of a major traffic artery.

It's probably there by design, though. More people driving past it equals more people seeing it. More people seeing it means more people going into the store and buying things. More buying equals more money. Classic first rule of business: location, location, location.

Speaking of location, location, location, I have no idea where I am. But I do know that it was a significant improvement of where I was before.

It's been said that the road ahead is paved with uncertainty, hope, despair, and yet to be realized expectations. In my experience, the road ahead is also full of low hanging fog, glowing orange lights, and holes in the pavement. And that fog and those lights were the last things I saw before I fell through one of those holes in the pavement.

When I landed, I found myself in a hub for a network of underground tunnels. With roots protruding from the walls, pebbles of assorted sizes on the floors, and side-to-side clearance narrow enough that I had to walk through them sideways, they reminded me of an oversized version of those tunnels that wild hamsters dig to put their nuts away for the winter.

Except, I didn't find any nuts. I found something far more interesting: a basement-like room with a single light bulb, decaying wallpaper, a closet door propped open with one of those humble figurine thingies, and a wicker basket. Inside the wicker basket lay a file folder marked "IMPORTANT INFO - FOR T.J."

I opened the folder and noticed a typewritten sheet of paper with the following written on it:

0. Denise Ashenhurst can very frequently be found

1. hard at work at her desk. Denise works quietly, without

2. disturbing her classmates. Never have we seen Denise

3. think twice about prioritizing learning, and she always

4. finishes given assignments on time. Denise consistently takes time to

5. help others, such as intervening when two girls attempted to

6. steal her friend's boyfriends. We duly recommend that Denise be

7. nominated for the Silver Circle Award, and such arrangements

8. executed ASAP.

I also found this note and a polaroid image of a girl with long brown hair and a visible gap tooth clipped to the paper: Isn't it always the way, you write shit down and that bitch looks over your shoulder. Read every other line (0, 2, 4, etc..) for my true impression of her.

I laughed. It reminded me for all the world of that joke about the coworker who is reading over the guy shoulder as he wrote the memo.

I put the folder back and walked up the flight of stairs that I saw on the right hand side of the room. When I got to the top of the stairs, I found myself in what looked like some kind of basement. I saw another flight of stairs at the end of the room.

I came up at either a house party or an open house. I think it was a house party, it didn’t really look like an open house for anything. Open houses usually have like information sheets about who you guys are and what you guys do, but I didn’t see anything like that in here. I saw a bunch of people chatting over glasses of white wine, a bunch of kids outside on the pool deck using the tarp over the pool is some kind of impromptu bouncy castle (which, I’m surprise didn’t give away), and an orange tree in the corner of the room.

What caught my attention was what was behind the orange tree: a girl with long brown hair. As I got closer, I saw it. The visible gap tooth. Denise Ashenhurst.

I had no idea how small Denise is. Until now, I couldn’t believe that she could hide behind the planter in the corner of the room. If I do the same, my legs stick out the sides, and it looks like the planter fell on its ass.

Sshe looked pretty upset about something. "Hey" I asked, "you OK?"

Panting heavily, she looked up at me. "Elizabeth?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"No," I said softly, "not even close." My name’s actually Khaleesi, not Elizabeth

She just sat there and stared at me. "Are you OK?" I asked her again.

“Nope,” she whimpered. After that, she completely broke down. She curled up into a ball and bawled.

Again, I couldn't believe she could squeeze into the tiny, tiny space between the planter and the wall. I mean, I'm surprised she could even breathe back there let alone maneuver around enough to dig her handkerchief out of her fanny pack.

"What's wrong?" I asked. I don't think she heard me.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I don't think I got that."

When she did speak, she could barely form a coherent sentence. Before she could finish her thought, she began to gag. Audibly.

Uh oh. That doesn't sound good.

"That wasn't a good sound." I said, but I don't think she heard me, "sounds like you're going to throw up."

Denise shook her head. "Nope," she said (desperately trying not to gag, I might add), "I'm not going to throw up."

I didn't believe her for a minute. "Are you sure?" I asked her.

Denise took a deep breath. "Look, Kathleen," she said as she dried her eyes, "I'm positive. I won't throw up."

"Getting warmer" I replied calmly.

I still didn't believe her, because right after she told me that she wasn't going to throw up, she gagged again. Twice.

And then, out of nowhere, Denise started to frantically dig a hole in the dirt in the planter.

"Is that for what I think it's for?" I asked her, side-eyeing the hole.

She didn't even look at me when she spoke. "I'm gonna throw up!"

Denise missed the hole entirely. The stream of vomit went right into some fancy woman's handbag. She hit the hole the second time she hurled. And the third.

"Now that you're empty, do you want to talk about it?" I asked respectfully.

Denise shook her head. She slowly retreated towards the corner of the room. I backed off after that. I figured that she needed some space.

Almost immediately after I walked away, I heard a squish noise, followed by a woman screaming, "Someone threw up in my purse! Someone threw up in my purse!"

I clearly heard Denise say "Uh-oh." Apparently, so did the woman with the handbag full of throw up, because she walked right up to Denise and started chewing her out. "You ruined my handbag! It was a very expensive Hermès bag!”

Denise say down and blew her nose. "It's alright" she said, "it was a fake." She was right. The purse didn’t say “Hermès”, it said “Herpes”.

The woman stood there, taken aback. “What do you mean it’s fake!?”

“It’s a knockoff.“ I said, “it says herpes on it.“

I have expected the woman to say, “don’t try to tell me I have a head bag full of herpes!“ She didn’t say anything. She rolled her eyes, walked away, and probably went home.

Denise left shortly afterward. About 20 minutes or so after she left, it dawned on me why she was so upset. I remember the file that had the document about her and the picture of her. It was almost definitely something related to that.

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #short fiction #short story

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dillydedalus · 5 years

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august reading

minus my women in translation month reads, because i’m still working on the last one but want to include it... that wrap-up will come in a few days once i’m done with the last book.

not all dead white men: classics and misogyny in the digital age, donna zuckerberg classicist donna zuckerberg (facebook dude’s sister!) talks about how the alt-right, pick-up artists, incels etc. use the classics to assert & justify their misogyny and racism & portray themselves as the inheritors/saviours of western civilisation etc. the main examples she looks at are stoicism, ovid’s ars amatoria, and ancient narratives about sexual violence, which were all really interesting, but i feel like this could have been expanded a lot. 3.5/5

magic for liars, sarah gailey fun & cool crime story about a murder at a secret magical school (school nurse cut in half in magical library!), answering the burning question of what would happen if petunia dursley became a somewhat dysfunctional PI & had to solve a magical murder at hogwarts, where lily is a teacher. 3/5

the lie tree, frances hardinge frances hardinge writes the kind of middle grade/YA books i wish i could have read between like 10-14, where the world is spooky and the girls are angry spiteful stubborn resourceful sneaky things. i loved a skinful of shadows and i loved the lie tree, where curious snake girl (not literally it’s not that kind of a book) has to investigate her scandal-hounded natural scientist father’s death by spreading lies on the miserable island he died on and literally feeding them to spooky science-defying tree - and faith is very good at lying, and very angry, and very much willing to drag the whole island down with her. read for spooky trees, fake ghosts, and victorian male natural scientists being dumb and sexist & victorian female (& thus secret) natural scientist being smart & awesome. 4.5/5

the dead ladies project: exiles, expats & ex-countries, jessa crispin i have been at turns in love & really annoyed with crispin’s 2012 essay on william james, berlin & her own mental breakdown (x) since uh..... 2012 - it says some really interesting things about berlin’s capital-i Image as the city for self-destructive broke & weird messes, it’s very quotable, while also being some of the most irritating Anglophone Expat in Berlin Bullshit ever concocted (’we have surprisingly affordable rents’ sure didn’t age well.....) and saying almost nothing about the actual city outside of the Expat Bubble (apparently every single person in berlin is here because they feel like a failure.... YALL SOME PEOPLE JUST LIVE HERE). this book, structured around crispin’s soul-searching trip around europe, with each city being discussed in connection with an artist/writer/artist’s wife/etc who lived there, opens with that essay and i’m still torn. the thing is, crispin is smart & well-read & occasionally capable of some interesting insight & good writing..... she is also at times utterly insufferable, ranting at length about how she despises women who perform learned helplessness & prioritise men over everything else only to turn around & do the same fucking thing over & over, incl. going on endlessly about her torturous affair with a married writer, performing her ‘broke but independent woman traveller’ while uh.... staying at a friend’s luxurious farmhouse in switzerland for free... at one point she says she never felt at home in kansas bc based on her looks people don’t believe she’s really from kansas & constantly ask her where she’s REALLY from because.... y’all.... while she’s a good-looking white woman she has an ANGULAR FACE. sure jan. there is so much cool stuff in here, and i wish crispin had kept some most of the personal stuff out of it. 2/5

mansfield park, jane austen hmmmm... austen is always good but this feels like it’s maybe the one novel of hers that is most negatively affected by values dissonance in that its morality feels like it’s from an alien culture which considers a private theatre performance to be the very height of impropriety (aka regency england apparently); as a result, fanny, a passive, timid, neglected girl of strong convictions often comes across as a moralistic prig (i will make no excuses for edmund, who’s just a patronising sanctimonious prig outright). there’s a quiet sort of triumph in fanny’s integrity & conviction in the face of a literal campaign of harrassment from everyone in her life including the dude she’s in love with to marry a reforming (maybe) rake & i love her for that, but her triumph in returning to mansfield park elevated in the esteem of everyone there (except aunt norris who is delightfully vile) feels empty considering that these are the same people who previously neglected her. also edmund sucks. 3/5 #justice4marycrawford #mary/fannyOTP #alsoarewegonnatalkabouttheslavery #guessnot

fool’s quest (fitz & the fool #2), robin hobb the first one in this trilogy was pretty much slow-paced set-up and character development... this one is much better: there’s a lot going on & the character development feels much more organic & complex - fitz seems to have come down from Peak Dumbass a bit & i really liked how it developed shun (shine!!!) and lant, who felt really one-dimensionally awful last book. also there are so many moments when the farseer family really comes thru for fitz & i cried literally every single time. so yeah. this one’s great, can’t wait for the next one but i also really don’t want it to be over :/ 4/5

what matters in jane austen, john mullan fun little collection of essays looking at specific details and minutae and their meaning/importance in austen’s work - like, how old are the characters (incl. age differences), how do characters address each other, what do games do they play, what about the servants, etc. don’t expect deep litcrit but it’s fun. 2.5/5

dead mountain: the untold true story of the dyatlov pass incident, donnie eichar hello i’m fred & i am obsessed with mountaineering disasters. the dyatlov pass incident refers to a night in 1959 where 9 russian hikers died in the ural mountains after they left their tent half-dressed without shoes for ~mysterious reasons. it’s pretty creepy & theories about it run from ‘avalanche’ to ‘animal [yeti] attack’ to ‘aliens and/or soviet conspiracy theory’. eichar too is super obsessed w/ this mystery and even went to the ural mountains & the dyatlov pass to investigate, which sadly makes for the least interesting (and possibly the longest) part of this book (the other timelines are the dyatlov group hike & the investigations after their deaths). the ‘59 timelines are both interesting tho & provide a good look into how weird the whole thing is. i enjoyed this, but i wish he had cut the endless chapters of him investigating, which is mostly russians being like ‘idk man aliens/radioactivity/secret govt agents?’ and him hiking around in a lot of snow, neither of which really added to his theory or my enjoyment. 2/5

if beale street could talk, james baldwin baldwin’s prose is staggeringly brilliant as always. this is a story about a young black couple (tish, who is the narrator, and fonny) in the 70s who are planning to move together and marry when fonny is wrongly arrested for rape by a racist cop with a grudge; tish and her family try to get him out, especially once tish realises that she’s pregnant. tish is a great narrator, at the same time kind of naive and soft, and full of world-weary cynicism about white institutions and racism, and her narrative voice at times drifts in and out of other characters’ minds, which i found an interesting effect. as many baldwin’s novels this is full of rage & violence & tenderness & tiny sparks of hope. 4/5

lady susan, jane austen epistolary novella about a 35-year-old lady susan, a scheming, ruthless, not-so-grieving widow, who is trying to get her timid daughter frederica married to a buffoon. while staying with her sweetly clueless brother-in-law vernon and trying to win over his much more suspicious wife, she makes the wife’s brother reginald (lol) fall in love with her. a very different protag and story for austen & while the end can’t quite commit to either punishing susan very much or letting her triumph, it is a lot of fun. 3/5

on a sunbeam, tillie walden this is an absolutely beautiful (the colours!) graphic novel about a spaceship crew (the spaceship is a fish) who fly around & restore old space buildings. it’s also a story about a romance between two young girls at a boarding school (in space) and about found families and deep space and there’s not a single man in this, just women and elliot, who’s nonbinary. lovely, dreamy and completely gorgeous. want me a fish spaceship. 4/5

between birthday books and birthday giftcards i also acquired uh.... 12 new books??? which is INSANE. i’m not committing to a book buying ban but i should probably chill a lil in the next few months.

#crispin talks about potsdam as the outskirts of berlin and like.... it's a whole different city #the books i read #austen august didn't quite pan out but i'm planning to read one of her novels per month #i am planning to skip p&p bc i read it last year but.... it's really good y'all

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thegreatwhiteferret · 6 years

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Waiting For Tonight

Summary: Eddie always thought that he would wait until he was married to have sex, but after a year and a half of dating Richie with all of his teasing and innuendos, Eddie snaps. He can’t wait any longer and he challenges Richie to do his absolute worst on him and wreck his virgin body.

Pairing: Reddie

Rating: EXPLICIT

A/N: This was an unbelievably amazing PowerBottom!Eddie request from @theriodiaries , I am so sorry that this took me so long to finish, I wanted to make it the best that I could for you and definitely overthought some thing, but I really hope that you like it! (Especially since I have two more requests to write for you now!!! Super excited!) ❤️❤️❤️ Also, this is a shameless self promo but... @reddieforlove ...for your consideration for the next Reddie Fanfic Friday.

NSFW Under the Cut...

Eddie wasn’t sure what it was. It wasn’t out of some moral or religious obligation. It wasn’t his mother, and her horrific stories about all of the diseases that could be spread. It wasn’t because he was disgusted by the thought of it. Scared? Maybe a little, but not enough to keep him from doing it. It was none of that, he wasn’t sure what it was, but nonetheless he had made himself a promise a long time ago that he would wait until he was married to have sex.

The problem with this of course, was that Eddie had made this decision when he was seven years old. When he didn’t understand what it meant. When he hadn’t been able to come to terms with the fact that he found little girls icky, and didn’t think that his feelings would ever change about that. He had made the decision before he realized that he was hopelessly in love with Richie Tozier.

Being in love with Richie presented its own set of unique...challenges, but Eddie wouldn’t take him any other way. He loved him more than he ever imagined was possible.

One of Richie’s many strengths was how understanding he was. Eddie had told Richie way before they had even started dating, way back the summer they turned thirteen, that he wanted to wait to have sex. Richie had balked at first, shocked that anyone in the world wouldn’t be itching to tickle their pickle, but stopped immediately when he saw how serious Eddie was. If this was something that Eddie was adamant about, he would never pressure him.

That didn’t mean that he was going to stop with all of the innuendos and obnoxious jokes, that’s just who Richie was as a human being, but he did curb them a bit when it was just the two of them.

------

They started dating at the end of their sophomore year of high school. It was long overdue. Eddie had known deep down that he was in love with Richie for at least four years. It took him a while to process it, and even longer to actually admit to himself, and then to his friends, that he was gay. Richie had known that he was bisexual since he had snuck into the backroom of the video rental store when he was a kid and saw the glory that was Deep Throat. That film was his bisexual awakening, which he would tell anyone who would listen, and then they would yell at him for being too young and disgusting. He had also known even before that movie, that he loved Eddie more than anything and would stop at nothing to protect him. He was his Eddie Spaghetti, and anyone who even came close to hurting him was going to die.

Eddie had been the one to make the first move. Richie had been casually seeing this kid from a few towns over that was in a band. Richie had fallen hard for the guy, he wore all black and smudged eyeliner around his eyes, he had metal studs up and down his ears and had a tongue piercing. Eddie was repulsed. Mainly because he was the one that Richie would run to with all of the details from his dates. Would sneak into his window at night, with fresh hickeys sucked into his neck and tell Eddie about how amazing, Freddie was.

It lasted three months and then things changed. Freddie decided that Richie was too simple for him, he had called him one dimensional. He didn’t like the neon colors and crazy prints. Couldn’t stand how Richie ran his mouth, or the fact that he seemed to talk about one of his friends more than any of the others. He told Richie that he wasn’t experienced enough for him, and it broke Richie’s heart. They had had sex for the first time just a few days earlier, and Richie couldn’t help but feel the rejection ten times over because of it.

Richie tried to pass off his pain with humour, like he always did, but Eddie saw it. Saw the pain in his eyes. Richie stopped being so bright. Stopped being so loud, he withdrew inside his head, and it broke Eddie’s heart too. Richie stopped climbing through his window at night to have their talks as well, and that’s where Eddie drew the line.

One night, Eddie snuck out of his own window and rode his bike the few blocks over to Richie’s house and climbed the old tree outside of his bedroom window. Richie bolted from his bed when he heard a knock on the window, sliding his glasses onto his face before grabbing the baseball bat that he kept next to his bed and preparing to swing.

“Whoever the fuck you are I will fucking kill you!” He aimed towards the window as a small figure slid the glass open and all but fell inside. Richie raised the bat preparing to slam it down onto the person’s head, when he heard familiar wheezing. “...Eds? Eddie? What the fuck? You almost gave me a heart attack! I could have fucking killed you! Jesus Christ, you’re choking. Where is your inhaler?” RIchie slid on his knees so that he was next to Eddie, searching for his fanny pack and his inhaler. Eddie looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Hi.” He choked out, and Richie shook his head in belief at his friend, crashing through his window in the middle of the night, just to say that. He helped Eddie to stand and moved him over to sit on his bed.

“Well shit, hi, Eds.” Richie said, joining him on the bed. He tried to straighten out his sheets a bit so it didn’t look like a complete mess, he knew that he didn’t have to impress Eddie, he had seen his room like this a million times, but he still felt the urge. Eddie didn’t look like he was going to start talking anytime soon, so Richie did what he did best and filled the silent void. “So, not that it’s not a nice surprise and all, but what are you doing here, Eddie?”

“I uh...I had to come and tell you something.” Eddie forced out, and Richie looked at him confused, urging him to continue. “I uhm...wow. In my head this went better.” He looked pensive, like he was fighting a battle within himself, and it was unnerving for Richie.

“Look, Spaghetti Man. Why don’t we just...you can either sleep here or I can walk you home. We can talk about whatever you wanted to in the morning…” Richie was cut off by Eddie pressing his lips to his. It was quick, before Richie could even registered what had happened, Eddie was pulling away. “Wait, no come back.” Richie murmured and pulled him in for another kiss. This one more drawn out, but he was still careful to not spook Eddie too much. They pulled away breathless after a few moments, looking wide eyed at each other.

“Richie, will you be my boyfriend?” Eddie asked, and Richie could have sworn that it was the most adorable thing that he had heard in his entire life. His heart swelled in his chest and he just nodded. Eddie looked relieved.

“Took you long enough.” Richie sassed and Eddie just rolled his eyes and pulled him in for another kiss.

------

Eddie held true to his pledge of abstinence, even after Richie became his official boyfriend. Always careful to stop things before they went too far. They had been dating for a little over a year and a half now, and they had experimented with some heavy petting and a few handjobs, but nothing more. Richie respected Eddie’s boundaries.

Richie being Richie however continued to make crass jokes all of the time. The other Losers didn’t know about Eddie’s vow for purity, they never pried, but Richie supplied plenty of innuendos anyway, maintaining his position in the group as the Trashmouth.

“Ow, shit this soup is hot.” “Yeah, you know what else is hot? My boyfriend’s ass.” “Beep beep, Richie!”

“What does the sign on an out-of-business brothel say?” “J-jesus Christ, Richie. I’m t-trying to do my h-homework.” “BEAT IT, WE’RE CLOSED! Hahahaha.” “Get o-out of my h-house. Beep f-fucking beep.”

“What’s the difference between a tire and 365 used condoms?” “I will kill you.” “One’s a Goodyear, the other’s a great year. Stanley, let me tell you man, I’m having a great year.” “Let go of me, Bill! I just want to strangle him a little!”

“I’ll have a Dr. Pepper please.” “Oh, that reminds me of a joke. Hey, Mike?” “No.” “Why does Dr. Pepper come in a bottle?” “Richard, why can’t you just let me enjoy my soda in peace, I don’t…” “Because his wife died.” “I...I’m sorry guys, I have to go, I can’t…” “Are you fucking happy? You broke, Mike!”

“Bevvvvvvvvvvy Baby, I have a hot lesbian joke for you.” “You also apparently have a death wish.” “What do you call a lesbian dinosaur?” “Don’t…” “A lick-a-lot-of-puss!” “Eddie, I hope you don’t need your boyfriend’s dick for anything, I’m about to castrate him and shove it down his fucking throat.”

Eddie was a semi-patient person, he had taken to boxing as a way to control his anger, but Richie’s constant teasing and joking had brought him to a new level. He wanted nothing more than to shut his boyfriend up. Truth be told, he was tired of waiting. Tired of listening to Stan describe how Bill had made him fall apart on his tongue and fingers. Tired of how sweet and soft Ben was in his descriptions about Beverly. Mike kept pretty tight lipped about his trysts, but Eddie had seen many a girl swoon over just the sight of him walking down the street.

Eddie was tired of waiting. Tired of his boyfriend’s jokes about how tired he was of dating his left hand. He wanted some action, and he was going to get it.

------

It was the night of the Homecoming football game, their senior year. Eddie had decided that this was the perfect opportunity. They would all be cheering Mike on and then heading back to the farm for a bit of a party, win or lose, there would be an excuse to consume copious amounts of alcohol.

Mike’s farm also had the benefit of lots of places where people could sneak away. Eddie’s favorite had always been the loft in the old supply barn. He would always find himself sitting in the loft, legs hung over the side of the hatch, watching the sun come up. Richie joined him most of the time, cigarette poking out from his lips. They’d just talk and be themselves. Eddie couldn’t think of a more perfect place for them to be together for the first time.

“Hey Mike, would it be okay if I decorate the loft in the old barn a bit for the night of Homecoming?” Eddie asked as he and Mike were moving through the lunch line a week or so before.

“Why do you want to decorate it? The party is going to be in the big house, my grandparents are going to stay in the cottage that night so that we can have free reign.” Mike responded, smiling at the lunch lady to get an extra slice of pizza, damn that charming bastard.

“I uhh, well I uhh…” Eddie stuttered out, and Mike froze turning to look at Eddie with the most deadpan face Eddie had ever seen him make. He blushed under the gaze. Mike rolled his eyes.

“You want to use my barn to create a sex dungeon?” Mike deadpanned, and Eddie choked on his own spit, Mike patted his back a few times, helping Eddie regulate his breathing.

“Can you not use the words ‘sex dungeon’ ever again???” Eddie whisper yelled, trying to not draw any additional attention to them. “I just need a safe space where I can feel comfortable…” Mike stopped walking and turned to Eddie again, realization dawning on his face.

“Eddie, are you a virgin? Are you planning your first time with Richie?” Mike asked carefully, not wanting to embarrass the other boy. Eddie frowned slightly and nodded. “Well, okay. Are you sure you want the loft? We have the guest bedroom, it might be more comfortable?”

“No. The loft is perfect, it’s kind of our...place.” Eddie explained, they had reached their table now. The others would be arriving soon. “Look, Mike. I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell the others, or say anything to Richie. It’s kind of a surprise for him.”

“Sure thing, Eddie. My lips are sealed, and the barn is all yours.” Mike said, taking a bite of his pizza and nodding to Bill and Stan who had just walked into the cafeteria. Eddie nodded in thanks, and dropped the subject.

Mike had helped Eddie drag a spare mattress up to the loft, and then kept his mouth shut without judgement when Eddie sprayed the entire thing with disinfectant. Eddie had strung up so old christmas lights too, giving the space a nice romantic glow. He put new silky sheets on the mattress and even laid out some condoms and lube, which Mike had graciously provided for him. Everything was set up and perfect. Now Eddie just had to make it through the rest of the game and convince Richie to leave the afterparty to go to the barn with him.

The game was almost over, there was only five minutes left in the fourth quarter and most of the crowd were on their feet. Eddie and Stan sat huddled together under a blanket while the other Losers stood around them.

“Go team! Throw the ball, yay sports!” Richie called out from where he was standing next to Eddie, a goofy grin on his face. He turned around and plucked Bev’s cigarette out of her hand to take a drag. Bev slapped him across the head, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.

“What’s happening, Bill?” She asked with a bored tone in her voice. It made sense to ask him. Bill was the only one besides Mike that could follow almost any sport. Eddie and Ben ran track, and Bill and Stan played baseball, but none of them were really all that focused on all sports. Bill sighed.

“It’s t-third down and t-twenty, we are o-only up by one t-touchdown, if they m-manage to keep p-possession of the b-ball and score, t-then we are t-tied...and we d-don’t want that.” Bill explained, squeezing Stan’s hand that was peeking out of the blanket for him to hold.

The ball snapped, and the opposing quarterback threw the ball, but as it soared through the air Mike sprinted, faster than any of them had ever seen before, he jumped, grabbing the ball out of the air and took off running in the opposite direction. He was so fast and everyone was so stunned that he had intercepted the pass, that it was like time had stood still. Eddie and Stan jumped up, joining everyone else in the stands who were jumping around and screaming. Mike ran straight into the endzone as the clock ticked down, scoring the winning touchdown.

The crowd went ecstatic. Everyone was screaming and hugging. Richie lifted Eddie up and spun him around. They sure as hell didn’t give a shit about sports, but their boy just won the game, and that they did give a shit about.

------

Mike’s house was packed with people, everyone talking and drinking. It seemed like most of the school was there. A game of beer pong was set up in the kitchen. Bill as the reigning champion of beer pong, had decided to challenge Richie to a duel. Eddie and Stan were their partners, but they were really just there to look pretty. At least that’s what Bev had said while she watched them and sipped on her own beer.

“We need to get you too some pom poms.” Bev said, and Ben nudged her in warning. “What, they are definitely the pretty little trophy wives. Ben, don’t even try to fight me on this.”

“Benjamin, control your lady.” Richie teased, as he sunk another ball in one of Bill’s cups. “Drink up Denbrough, don’t make Stan do it for you. Be a man!” He finished dramatically, and Eddie looked over at Stan with wide eyes.

“First the fuck, Richard. My man is plenty of man. Secondly, Beverly...I am a damn fine trophy wife, don’t be jealous.” Stan said waving his hands around and sticking his tongue out at Bev. He had enjoyed a few too many shots of Malibu, and was feeling himself.

“O-okay, Babe. Point m-made. Let’s go g-get some water and f-food.” Bill said, trying to diffuse the situation a little bit, Stan snapped his head towards Bill, and Eddie had to try and hold back his laughter. Richie did not have the same courtesy.

“William Denbrough. Did you just imply that I have had too much to drink? That you know my body and limitations more than I do?” Bill stayed very quiet while Stan was talking at him. No sudden movements or words. “Mhmmm. That’s what I thought. I will decide when I have had enough…” He spun around towards Bev, but he froze and grabbed onto Bill as his stomach lurched and the room began spinning. “Okay, I’ve had enough.” Bill nodded towards the others and helped Stan make his way to the bathroom.

“Hey.” Eddie said, pulling his boyfriend’s attention to him. “Come take a walk with me?” He asked, fluttering his eyelashes a little and biting his lip. Richie gulped at the sight, alcohol and general lust for Eddie.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He said and allowed Eddie to pull him through the crowd and out the back door. They started walking down the familiar path, but Richie figured he needed to break the silence anyway. “So, where exactly are you dragging me off to, Spaghetti Man?”

“You know where.” Eddie said with a playful roll of his eyes. They reached the barn a few minutes later, and Eddie pulled open the barn door. Richie threw himself on top of the stack of bales of hay while Eddie closed it behind him. He giggled when he saw Richie struggling to sprawl out on the rough material. “Hey, I’ve got a better idea.” He headed over to the small set of stairs that led to the loft and he climbed up them easily.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on…” Richie froze at the top of the stairs when he looked at what was in front of him. “Eddie....what is all of this?” He looked from all of the twinkling lights hanging from beams, to the hatch that allowed the moonlight to shine in, and finally to the bed. Covered with tons of blankets and soft looking sheets.

“Richie, I want you to make love to me.” Eddie said, taking his hand and pulling him towards the bed. Richie shook his head, and then stopped moving.

“Eddie. No. You want to wait until you’re married. You’ve been saying that since we were kids. I don’t want...I don’t want you to just change your mind because you think that I need sex to be fulfilled. I love you, just the way you are, we don’t have to…”

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” Eddie asked, face dropping as he looked at Richie. “Is that what this is? You don’t find me attractive and you don’t want to sleep with me?” Eddie said, tears filling his eyes. Richie’s heart dropped.

“No. Eddie, no, listen to me. That’s not it. You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I just don’t want…” Richie promised, trying to explain his feelings, but failing miserably. “I don’t want you to regret it.” Something changed in Eddie, like a switch was being flipped.

“There you fucking go again, thinking you know everything.” Eddie shook his head, he was pissed off now, no one got to decide for him. “You like challenges, huh, Rich? I know you do. You can’t resist them. I challenge you to do your very worst, Tozier. To wreck my virgin body. Think you can handle that, or should I go back to the party and find someone else to do it for me?” Richie’s jaw dropped open in shock, he had never heard Eddie talk like that before.

“Challenge accepted.” Richie murmered, moving to press a bruising kiss to Eddie’s lips, pulling him with him towards the bed. He pulled his own jacket off and toed out of his shoes, then let himself fall back on the bed, sliping his shirt and jeans off before leaning up on his elbows to watch Eddie. “Going to do a strip tease for me, Eds?” He asked half joking, but there was a sparkle in Eddie’s eye.

Eddie licked his lips as he looked down at Richie. He let his jacket slipp off of his shoulders and drop to the ground. His scarf was next, he shimmied with it a little, dropping down and pulling back up so that his jean clad ass was on display for Richie. He dropped the scarf to the ground and pulled his sweater over his head, tossing it in Richie’s direction. He took his time unbuttoning his shirt, not wanting to destroy it even in the heat of the moment. Richie watched him eagerly as more and more of his toned little body came into view. He turned around again, as he slid his jeans down over his hips and ass, kicking them off and leaving him only in his tiny grey briefs. He wiggled his hips for Richie putting on more of a show for him. He turned around and stepped on the mattress moving over Richie and then dropping down until he was straddling him.

“Holy fuck. That was the hottest thing ever, Baby Boy.” He let out as he ran his hand up and down Eddie’s torso. Eddie ground his ass down on Richie’s dick, moaning when he felt how hard he was already.

“Mmmmmm no. The hottest thing you will ever see is me riding this pretty cock of yours, but there’s some work you need to do first, don’t you think?” Eddie asked sweetly, and Richie almost came right then and there. He nodded and let Eddie move off of him a little to lean over the side of the mattress. He came back with a condom and a bottle of lube. “I think you’re going to need these, but first, there’s something I want to try for you.” Eddie smirked at him and moved down the mattress, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down, letting his erection spring free.

Eddie smirked at Richie one more time before taking his leaking cock in his hand and leaning down to tease the head with his tongue. Richie’s hips thrust up without him even thinking. Eddie used his other arm to push down across Richie’s hips and keep him still. He took just the head of his ock back in his mouth, a little tentatively, and began sucking. Richie threw his head back from the feeling. Eddie decided to push himself a little bit further, he licked a strip up Richie’s entire length first, and then slid his mouth around his dick. He could only take a few inches in at first, but he worked his way down little by little. Richie was moaning and writhing on the bed beneath him, obviously unphased by Eddie’s inexperience.

“God, Baby Boy. That mouth. Ahhhh, Eds, I’m gonna cum.” Richie was moaning more and more, getting close to finding his release. Eddie pulled off, stroking Richie from root to tip a few times, until Richie’s body tightened up and he blew his load all over Eddie’s hand and his own chest. Eddie stroked him through the aftershocks, then looked down at his hand that was covered in Richie’s cum. He thought about it for a minute before looking Richie dead in the eye and lifting his hand to his mouth, and starting to lick it off. “Oh my fucking God, Eddie that’s fucking filthy…” Richie groaned out as he watched his boy.

“Mmmmmmmm. So good.” Eddie moaned, as he leaned down to lick a stripe up Richie’s chest, collecting the rest of his cum on his tongue. He caught Richie’s mouth in a kiss, letting him taste himself. Eddie pulled back, and kept his eyes trained on Richie. “Richie, are you going to open me up so I can take that pretty cock of yours, or do I need to do everything myself?”

“I’ve got you, Baby.” Richie said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. Eddie crawled down the bed a little bit, staying on his hands and knees and popping his ass out for Richie. “Oh, Baby Boy. Those briefs are doing nothing to hide that beautiful ass of yours.” Richie moved behind him, palming one of his cheeks in his hand. Eddie moaned at the feeling, and Richie gave him a little pat, before he pulled the fabric down over his ass, leaving them bunched up on his thighs. He used his thumbs to spread his cheeks apart. “My God, Baby Boy. You’re killing me. Soft and hairless. So pretty.” Eddie mewled at the compliment.

“Come on, Richie. I need more. Give me what I need.” Eddie begged, and Richie leaned in licking all the way from Eddie’s balls up his crack. “Oh fuck!” Eddie had never felt anything like it before. He’d never even played with his own hole, Richie’s tongue was the first stimulation he had ever had down there, and it was enough to make his cock drip precum into his briefs. Richie repeated the action, letting his tongue poke lazily at the ring of muscles. He suckled around his hole, finally breaching the muscles properly with his tongue. Fucking gently into the heat. Eddie moaned at the intrusion, it felt weird, not bad but weird. Richie kept playing with him, gently licking his hole open. He moved his hand around on the bed, trying to find the bottle of lube, he snatched it up quickly when he felt the hard plastic. He gave Eddie’s fluttering hole a light kiss before pulling back completely. “Are you going to fuck those long fingers in me? Come on, Richie. Do it.” Eddie instructed. Richie was taken aback by how vocal Eddie was.

Richie popped the cap of the bottle off and let some of the slick liquid drip down his fingers. He closed the bottle before dropping it back on the bed. Her rubbed the tips of his three lubed up fingers around Eddie’s hole, teasing circles around the muscle until Eddie was groaning and whining from being forced to wait. Richie took pity on him and began to push his first finger in slowly. Eddie choked out a sob at the feeling.

“It’s okay, Eddie. You’re doing so good for me. Taking my finger, just relax baby, so good.” Richie praised as he pushed his finger in the rest of the way. He could feel Eddie relaxing and took the opportunity to slowly begin thrusting his finger in and out, letting Eddie get used to the feeling. It was strange, feeling this full, but Eddie knew that there was so much more to come. Richie waited until Eddie was moving his hips back to meet his thrusts before he added a second finger, careful to keep them still so the stretch was bearable. When Eddie signaled that he was ready to continue Richie began twisting his fingers and scissoring them open, on one of his thrusts he hit something inside Eddie that ripped a scream out of his throat.

“Ugh. Fuck, Daddy, right there.” Eddie moaned, and Richie froze at what Eddie had just called him. It was unbelievably sexy, and Richie was pretty sure that he should be ashamed to admit that. Eddie seemed to realize his slip because Richie was no longer moving. “Your two fingers are in my ass and that’s what trips you up? Keep fucking moving, Daddy. Open my ass for your cock.” Richie choked on his own spit, but began moving again, thrusting in to hit that spot again, before adding another finger.

He made sure that Eddie was good and stretched, not wanting to hurt him when he thrusted in. He had Eddie flip over on his back and pulled his briefs the rest of the way off of his legs. Eddie pulled his legs to his chest, giving Richie space to move between them. Richie tore open the foil packet and slid the sheath down his shaft, he added more lube, making sure everything was nice and slick before moving into position over Eddie. He looked down at the love of his life, trying to make sure that this is what he wanted.

“We can stop right here, Eddie. We can wait. I love you so much, I’d wait forever.” Richie said looking into his eyes. Eddie looked up at him, with a smile on his face, and it touched Richie’s heart.

“I love you too. Now stick your fucking dick in me now. Did I stutter?” Eddie sassed, looking at Richie with determination in his eyes. Richie nodded, knowing that Eddie knew his body better than anyone else. He pressed the tip of his cock against Eddie’s hole, and then slowly pushed in. Eddie’s mouth flew open and he screwed his eyes shut at the feeling, so new. Richie went slow, inch by inch until his hips were resting against Eddie’s ass. Eddie gasped out a breath. “Holy fuck.”

“Are you okay? Is it too much?” Richie asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. Eddie just nodded that he was okay, taking a few deep breaths. He relaxed. “Do you want me to move?” Richie asked and Eddie nodded again. Richie started thrusting in, slowly and gently, barely moving at first. Eddie quickly started to get inpatient, he knew that Richie was holding back.

“Fuck me like you mean it.” He let out, wrapping his legs around Richie’s waist to pull him in tighter. Richie sped up a little bit, pumping in and out in a rhythm, Eddie rocked his hips to meet his thrusts, legs still wrapped around his waist. The discomfort had turned to pleasure and now he wanted more. “Richie! Harder! Fuck me harder, Daddy. Please!” He cried out and Richie tried to move faster to satiate his boy, but Eddie was moaning like a porn star and Richie was a little lost. Eddie raked his nails down Richie’s back, trying to encourage him to go faster, and Richie cried out from the mixture of pain and pleasure. He wasn’t the most experienced, and his only other partner had definitely not been as enthusiastic and receptive as Eddie.

Eddie was done waiting, he rolled them over so that Richie was on his back. Eddie straddled him again and grasped his cock, he held it in place and let himself sink down on it, feeling Richie way deeper than he had before. He started to pound himself down on it hard and fast over and over, rocking his hips until Richie’s cock was brushing against his prostate with every thrust. Eddie braced himself with his hands on Richie’s chest. He kept fucking himself down, his own cock slapping up against his belly from his movements. Richie lay beneath him, trying to thrust up in time with Eddie’s thrusts, watching his boyfriend get himself off by using his cock like a toy.

Richie could feel his stomach getting tight, his body racing towards his climax. Eddie was doing so well for him, his tight hole milking his cock perfectly. Eddie slammed down one more and Richie was cumming in the condom, screaming Eddie’s name as his body started to tingle all over before going numb. Eddie kept bouncing, hitting his prostate, and then wrapped his hand around his own cock, flicking his wrist just how he liked it, and cumming in thick streaks across Richie’s chest. He let himself catch his breath then carefully moved off of Richie before falling onto the mattress next to him. He could already feel how tender his ass was, but it was worth it.

He grabbed a pack of baby wipes that he had left off to the side and wiped himself and Richie down a little bit. He wanted a hot shower, but he wanted to curl up with his love even more. Richie opened his arms and let Eddie snuggle into them, pulling the sheets and blankets up over them. It was quiet for a moment before a thought popped into Richie’s head that he had to voice.

“You were right. Watching you ride my cock, is the hottest thing that I’ve ever seen.” Richie admitted as they lay wrapped up in each other. Eddie giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. They fell asleep intertwined, the sounds of the party in the background and the moon shining through the hatch.

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