#i don't know much about the turpin

[cagesings]

the  anthony  is  so  gosh  darn  cute

#i need to rewatch some of t.een b.each movie because i watched it when i was younger and hated the second one #but i need to Imagine him as mr. hope #also his wife's name is e.llie w.oods which is like e.lle w.oods and they were childhood sweethearts #look i get even more excited about actors if they have sweet stories like that #the lucy was in o.ver the m.oon and she has a really pretty voice #i don't know much about the turpin #or the johanna #but here's to hoping they got someone who can actually act and understand the character instead of just singing pretty #which is what they do a lot with johannas #i took one look at this guy and my heart was filled with love for him #*❈ ‣ 𝑖'𝑚 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑙𝑒 — ( ooc. ) #tbd. #i'm sorry but all of you are going to hear about this #so many j names too

[evergone]

Hey!! Idk know if you are taking requests right now but can you write a Theo x Hufflepuff reader imagine where the reader is always telling him to make friends from other houses. He finally does make friends but with a beautiful Ravenclaw and starts spending more time with her. The reader starts feeling insecure and ignores Theo. He soon realises that she is ignoring him and talks to her.

Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you do write it?

Too Friendly

Theodore Nott x reader

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex but no sex.

Description: The reader wants Theo to make more friends but when he does, she becomes insecure about their bond.

Sorry this took so long to get out, I'm in the middle of my final exams of high school so I don't have much time. I enjoyed writing this one. Thanks for the request @orphicmortala

“It’s sad, Theo, you’ve got, like, no friends!” You said as you tried your best to remember how to tie your yellow tie.

“What do you call Malfoy, then?” Theo asked from the bed.

“An accomplice,” you replied with that unique snark that Theo loved about you, “You need friends from other houses— Friends that aren’t just me.” You added those final words hastily before he could open his mouth in protest.

Theo rolled his eyes and beckoned you over. His hands glided over the folds of your tie with expertise, undoing the mess of a knot you’d created in order to do it up properly and perfectly. When he was done, he looked up at you with his gorgeous, oceanic eyes and the corners of his mouth where both his beautiful lips connected turned upwards. You uttered your thanks quietly as you resisted the primal urge to just not go to class at all and instead spend the whole day with him. Your mind wandered off to imagine being stuck between Theo’s checkered emerald sheets, but you brought it back to reality.

Fending off your lustful desires as well as a nun would, you bid adieu to Theo and hurried out of his room and the Slytherin common room. On your way out, you dodged the teasingly crude jokes and names that Theo’s friends tossed towards you and told Pansy that she was no better than yourself (you’d seen the way she snuck out of that empty classroom after Draco a couple days earlier, her hair and clothes all dishevelled and her thighs rubbing together uncomfortably).

The whole day, Theo dwelled on your words. While you weren’t exactly dating or in a relationship, he always found himself bound to your every word and every whim. You seemed to dictate his life in a way that you certainly shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but listen to you. So, in Arithmancy, he didn’t sit next to Blaise as he usually did, instead electing to sit with Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw girl he’d seen you talk to a few times.

She looked at him in confusion, “Did you need something?”

He withheld the instinct to say some snide remark and instead replied, “I thought I’d make a new friend today.”

“On some random Tuesday… in our Sixth year?” Her face contorted to expose her obvious disgust.

“Merlin’s cock and balls, I’m trying to be nice, Turpin!” Theo frowned and picked up his bag to go sit elsewhere.

Turpin grabbed his wrist as he stood up and her lips made a thin line as she pulled him back down to the seat. Her brows knitted together like a homemade sweater and she breathed out a sigh of defeat.

“No, it’s okay, sorry,” she said, “Sit here if you’d like.”

Over the next week, Theo made some serious efforts to get to know Turpin despite his friends’ obvious, loud verbal opposition. After that first Arithmancy class, Blaise had practically torn him to shreds with his massive speech on house loyalty and the horrible impact that you were clearly having on him. Daphne had recited the same speech her mother had given to her on her first day of her first year at school about how interrelations with students from the lesser houses was a gateway drug to blood sympathy (she’d given him the same speech when he started his little thing with you). And Pansy, Merlin’s beard, Pansy was furious.

Pansy had constructed this whole idea in her mind that you hated that Theo was talking to Turpin. She called it “cheating” which Theo had adamantly disagreed with. He wasn’t having sex with Turpin, in fact, he had absolutely zero romantic interest in her. He barely even liked her. The only thing the two had in common was Arithmancy and every time they hung out they talked about it until there was no more Arithmancy to talk about. It was, quite frankly, boring. Turpin was boring.

“It’s emotional cheating,” said Pansy in a huff as she and the others started towards the Great Hall for Monday breakfast.

“Emotional cheating?” Theo asked skeptically.

“Yes, Nott, emotional cheating,” she nodded, “And it’s hurting Y/n’s feelings. That’s why she hasn’t spoken to you all week.”

His gaze snapped to focus on Pansy whose black eyes were ablaze with the feminine rage of a girl’s best friend, “How do you know she hasn’t spoken to me all week?”

Pansy smirked, her honey red lipstick bright against her pale skin, and shrugged. She knew you hadn’t spoken to him all week because you wouldn’t shut up about it. In Divination on Wednesday afternoon, you’d all but assaulted Pansy with questions about Theo’s newfound interest in Turpin. All of which Pansy had no helpful responses to.

“Is he flirting with her?” You asked.

“Maybe, I don’t know, it’s not like they sit with us,” said Pansy, struggling to focus on the crystal ball with all your chatter.

“Why not? Why don’t they sit with you? Are they trying to be private?” You pushed almost frantically.

“Uh, possibly? Honestly, I just think he knows we don’t like her,” she explained.

“Why don’t you like her? Is she a bitch?” You frowned and then quickly added in a judgmental tone, “Or are you just being blood supremacists?”

“Is she a mudblood?” Pansy stopped working to stare at you.

You smacked her hand and she hissed, “I don’t know her that well. Don’t say that.”

When Theo and his friends finally arrived at the Great Hall, he searched the tables for your face. While most people usually stuck to their house’s table, you were a social butterfly and loved to flutter from table-to-table to talk to all of your many friends. Sometimes he wondered how you weren’t a prefect despite your popularity and the respect the younger years gave you. His eyes found Turpin first and she beamed and waved him over, but he blatantly ignored her. Pansy and Daphne watched on with delight as the girl cringed with embarrassment and turned back to her meal with bright red ears.

A spot of h/c hair floated above a robe lined with yellow and he abandoned his friends to go to you. You were standing at the end of the Hufflepuff table (not an unusual place to find you, but your favourite table was always the Slytherin one), and you were utterly consumed by a tale you were sewing for your housemates Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

“Y/n,” Theo spoke and his deep, smokey voice tore you straight out of your conversation, “Can we talk?”

Your eyebrows quivered and your blinking sped up as you took his appearance in for the first time all week. You hadn’t gone so long without speaking to him in at least three years (you got into an argument in your third year about the petrifications) and hearing his voice and seeing him so close was like throwing a former alcoholic into a sea of wine. There was nothing you wanted more than to indulge in him. But Hannah and Justin were glaring at him like hawks, or guard dogs, whichever was more intimidating.

“Um,” you glanced back at your friends and Hannah shook her head slightly, she’d never much liked Theo, “Sure.”

Hannah rolled her eyes and whispered something barely audible to Justin. Something about a “love-fucked pushover.” You ignored her. Theo took you to a pair of seats far from any prying ears and held your hands in his.

“You know I don’t like Turpin, right?” He said quietly.

You scoffed, “Yeah, right. And that’s why you spent all week with her.”

“I spent all week with her because you told me to!” He laughed with salt that spread itself over your wounded heart.

“Did I just? Because I really don’t remember saying ‘Hey, Theo, you know how I like you so much? I actually want you to go talk to another girl,’” you said sarcastically.

He held back a grin as best he could but the amusement glistened in his eyes and on his rosy, mole-spotted cheeks. His hand came up to your brow and massaged the frown out from between your eyebrows as you fluttered your eyelashes at him in the way you knew made him melt inside.

“I wanted to make friends for you,” he told you with that soft, romantic tone he used in bed.

“Don’t,” you ordered, “You’re Theodore Nott, you aren’t supposed to be friendly.”

For the first time in a week, he got a good look at you. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the sight of your h/l h/c hair and the way it framed your stunning face so perfectly that you appeared to have stepped right out of a portrait. He hadn’t realised how much he missed how your eyes, an elegant e/c and perpetually glossy as if always on the verge of tears, examined every centimetre of his face. He hadn’t realised how much he missed doing your tie up for you until he saw it tied like a bow around your neck.

“I’m friendly to you,” he said as his hands pulled at the end of the tie and it fell apart over your chest.

“And that’s all you need, I think,” you whispered pleasantly and pressed a loving kiss to his lips as he looped the tie around itself twice and pushed the end through the gap, tying it perfectly.

#theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x reader #hp fandom #theo nott x y/n #slytherin x reader #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter x reader #theo nott imagine #theodore nott imagine #theo nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #regulus black x reader #tom riddle x reader

[franki-lew-yo]

James and the Giant Peach is still (mostly) for young children

Despite a single pre-metoo joke and it's uncanny-ish artstyle that's a serious make-or-break-you factor on if you like it, James and the Giant Peach is aggressively a movie for young children. I personally like it as I never find it a patronizing sit for little kids, like Don Bluth's movies from the 90s so often were, but that really is what I think alienates people; the intended audience may be a bit too scared of the visuals (NOT like how they are with TNBC, which kids go in expecting to be scary) where the adult audience who is here for the 'creepy stop-motion' feel like the movie is lacking for not being Nightmare or Coraline, which is unfair. It absolutely scared me as a little little kid but upon finally facing it at, like ten or whenever it was on Cartoon Network's movie show, I realized there was nothing to fear. And that, in turn, was exhilarating. It's such good symmetry that the film is about facing your fears and standing up for yourself because that's exactly what my relationship with it was. It's such a comfort film for me. My og Bluey. JatGP, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, Ernest and Celestine = perfect comfort after I watch something serious and/or disturbing.

Half my reason for trying to pied-piper everyone else towards it as it's own merit is I think James and the Giant Peach would hit hard for lovers of weirdcore and dreamcore ala Jack Stauber or @samsketchbook's 'Welcome to Our Dimensional Party'.

That "looks unsettling/potentially disturbing but actually cute or gentle" vibe pairs perfectly with dreamcore aesthetic. We're coming up on it's 30 year anniversary I hope to see a genuine resurgence. If I had it my way and I was Dan Olson I'd make an hour-long look at the movie, the original book and Henry Selick's filmography as a surrealist the way Dan made an hour-lookback at Bakshi's Lord of the Rings. But I'm not. Cause I'm not Dan Olson and I can't build up the nerve to either show my face or figure out how to make videos in two years.

But anyway, about the title of this post (content warning: downer nsfl stuff; mentioning of real life child ab*se cases):

James' life with his aunts hits VERY different when you're an adult and you've watched too much true crime.

It's not intentional on the part of Dahl or Henry Selick. Selick had Mariam and Joanna ham up the screen and they clearly loved every minute of it and Dahl I think was just trying to tell an 'authentic' type fairytale story where the main character has to escape their evil family. Point being- Spiker and Sponge are supposed to be 'evil for the sake of evil' villains who could only exist as hammy caricatures in an already weird story. They aren't supposed to be like the parents in Matilda or the Twits who I'd argue are a little more 'realistic' depiction of awful people...except for the fact that legal guardians like Spiker and Sponge DO actually exist.

There's a heavy implication in the film that no one else in their county even knows James lives with Spiker and Sponge (literally the only people around to recognize James' existence are the bugs when they first meet him!). His aunts seem to make James work out of frustration for having to take him in, like he's a burden and they're making him pay for being one by being their slave. They actively don't feed him except for rotting fish and then shame him for not eating it. The Lane Smith picture book implies that James' parents weren't killed by a rhino but rather it's Spiker and Sponge who put that idea in James' head and use it to control him. And all that BEFORE the beatings which you know are happening off screen.

After the horrifying cases of Ruby Franke, Sylvia Likens and the Turpins, the "every child deserves a parent but not every parent deserves children" reality of it all makes you realize that James probably would have died if he lived with his aunts. Considering how they flip out on him in New York- that boy REALLY needed to escape, giant peach or no.

This is absolutely another reason for why JatGP is a comfort movie for grownups. You have this horrific childhood rescued by loving in-human parents who will kill everyone in the room and then themselves if you touch their human boy. It's like Opal but if Claire found a happier family. Of bugs. None of that was intentional, ftr, but it's what sticks out to me.

#james and the giant peach #franki's features #dreamcore #oddcore #dereality #cw: child abuse #true crime #henry selick #um yeah #also this fandom needs to be bigger so I don't have to be bombarded with only TNBC or pr0nz posts

[slashingdisneypasta]

Erik Destler x Fem!StageActress!Reader || Would Include...

Erik Destler always learning your on-stage romantic interests part totally and then 'dispatching' of the poor guy just before he's meant to go on so he then can always taking his place would include...

Warnings: Contemporary musical references, I don't care, shoot me. Also just basic Erik creepiness; murder and not-super-consensual kissing/touches (dub con at most).

Tagging: @marinerainbow and @masqueradeball .

🥀 Erik falling for you almost the moment you entered the Palais Garnier for the first time. He has no chill, we know this. He's like a Disney Princess. One song and he's fallen hopelessly in love.

🥀 Erik always keeping an eye on the cast lists when they come out- checking who you are and if you have a romantic interest. If you do, that person is now his main target. He may not kill them immediately, he'll wait until the final show on the final night, but there is a big red bullseye on their back now.

🥀 Erik practising 'his' lines (The lines of your on-stage romance) in his sewer room, reciting them to a dummy wearing some... familiar clothing. What? No, he didn't sneak into your chambers in the middle of the night and steal them from you! No, no! Absolutely not!... though you are missing a dress exactly like the one the doll is wearing. *cough*

🥀 Erik treating that doll of you with the utmost care. Almost as much as he'd treat you, the real you, with (Or, how he'd like to treat you. Only the lord knows if Erik could actually be gentle if given the chance to hold you). Its really creepy. Imagine his fingertips only grazing the dolls cheek very gently, but his eyes drift downwards (even though, again, its JUST A DOLL- ITS JUST STUFFING, ERIK!- Y O U ' R E T H E O N E W H O S T U F F E D I T- ) with very desire-filled eyes. Imagine him on one knee before the doll, holding its hand in his, its dead-eyes staring off into space while he professes deep speeches about love that are supposed to be romantic but just come out wrong and infatuated off Erik's tongue. Imagine Erik's hand wandering in the middle of a particularly heated scene; completely lost to his imagination.

🥀 Erik n e v e r, ever stealing the part of a villain. Even if that villain gets much more heated, or charged scenes with you then your actual love interest (Duke Monroth, Professor Callahan, Judge Turpin, Scar, etc). He wants to be your hero. Your prince, your true love.

🥀 Erik watching your every show, in his special box 5, studying you with eyes so hot you swear you can feel them on your skin every night. Paying so close attention, so he knows exactly how to compliment you on stage; how to be your perfect stage partner. This is why your scenes in every last show at the Palais Garnier are so impossibly electrifying to the audience- and, to you.

🥀 Erik allowing your casted partner to appear in the first few scenes with you during that last performance on that last night, so you never really know when its going to stop being the one guy and start being Erik- you're on your toes. Waiting the whole performance for the hand you grab onto to be Erik's. (He's waiting for the perfect moment to step in. The moment when you're really, really in character; lost to your art.)

🥀 Erik being the Christian to your Satine during 'El Tango De Roxanne' (His eyes upon your face. His hand upon your hand. His lips caress your skin. It's more than I can stand), 'Crazy Rolling' (See how I leave with every piece of you. Don't underestimate the things I will do), and 'Your Song Reprise' (Look at me... Satine... Why else live, if not for love?) in Moulin Rouge.

🥀 Erik being the Fiyero to your Elphaba during that super fucking charged 'As Long As You're Mine' scene in Wicked. You know? With you both on your knees on the stage surrounded by dramatic mist and you cant keep your hands off eachother?? *cough cough* I mean, with you both on your knees on the stage surrounded by dramatic mist and Fiyero and Elphaba cant keep their hands off eachother??? XD (Kiss me too fiercely, Hold me too tight; I need help believing, You're with me tonight, My wildest dreamings, Could not foresee, Lying beside you, With you wanting me // Every moment, As long as you're mine, I'll wake up my body, And make up for lost time.)

🥀 Erik being the Prince to your Sleeping Beauty, Snow White during the True Love's Kiss Scene. Oh yes, he definitely goes there. Did you doubt it?

🥀 Erik AS THE BEAST IN 'EVERMORE' TO YOUR BELLE IN BEAUTY AND THE BEAST!!!?

🥀 Erik never appearing at the end of the production to bow- he cant. You know that. So he makes his last moments on stage with you last, because honestly- who knows when the next time will be?? Its not like he can come call on you like a normal person... 🙄he's a dramatic freak. He holds your hand a few moments longer then necessary, or a little tighter. He kisses you one more time even though its not scripted.

🥀 Erik leaving you a bouquet of flowers in your dressing room after that last show on that last night. Signed simply, ceaselessly yours.

~

🥀 You tell yourself every time that the show must go on. You tell yourself, that thats why you don't stop it; Don't do anything.

🥀 You are lying to yourself. You cant deny the electricity crackling all over your skin every time you see Erik on stage with you, every time Erik touches you under fake pretences. You've never felt quite the same on stage then when he's there with you; you feel like you're really the characters... and there is nothing on earth like that feeling. No one else can give you this. No one but him.

🥀 You expect it now and anxiously await the moment when your practise partner (Just Erik's understudy. Thats what you're thinking of them now; the men who are actually cast) dematerialises from the stage and its Erik.

🥀 You always leave the flowers from Erik at the grave of the man who died. Its sick, the game (?? habit?? r e l a t i o n s h i p??) you're in, but you cant stop. And you cant apologise, so you can only do this.

🥀 You working extra hard to get lead roles at the Palais Garnier. As soon as one show is over, you have a hunger to do it again. Get another part, get Erik back on that stage with you.

Its like an addiction.

#just- aghhhhhhhhhhhh #being on stage with erik being on stage with erik being on stage with erik- #Erik Destler x Reader #Erik Destler #POTO 1989 #Phantom of the Opera 1989 #Erik Destler 1989 x Reader #Erik Destler 1989

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 13. Shimmering Icicles [C3]

Pairing: Turpin x fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader & Third, Turpin

Setting: Turpin’s house

Continuation of: Prompt 4. Sharing, Prompt 6. Out Of Care

A/N:As promised! Here's today's fic - hope you'll love it 🤭 We're starting to get mighty warm in this one 👀 I mean, it is wintertime over here so I certainly don't mind 🤭🙈 I'm also so beyond ready to get a little break tbh - it's been nonstop of everything for the past few weeks (the last three days being super hectic with the writing as you know) and I'd love to curl up with a good book or longer fic and just take a moment to exist but I'm also super happy about all the writing I've gotten done so far this month 😂 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and that December keeps on giving all the good stuff 🥰❤

Tags/TW’s: Mutual Secret Pining, Wishing For Forgiveness, Cuddling Close In Sleep, Masturbation, Bathtub Pleasure, Unwilling/Unplanned Voyeurism, Virgin Reader, Sexual Desperation, Struggling With Emotions & New Sensations, Wishing For More, Yielding For Another's Benefit

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 2.9k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

⩤• You •⩥

Your body hummed with warmth, a calmness seemed sturdily wrapped around you as you awoke to the steadily growing light of dawn sifting through your closed eyelids. It was late morning and you couldn’t quite make yourself fully wake up. The dream of Richard returning to you in the middle of the night made you force yourself to remain on the borderline to wakefulness — the encompassing warmth did little to help sleep leave.

A flexing hand at your hip jolted your senses. You drew a quiet gasp as your eyes popped open in a rush. A pale chest dusted with grey hair filled your vision, the steady thumping of a heart beneath your ear rousing you further. You were curled up against Richard, his arm under your head and wrapped around your back. It wasn’t a dream .

You tried to remain utterly still, endeavouring to relax your muscles to fain sleep. Never had you laid so close. Never had he held you tightly. Never had you heard his heartbeat before or felt his steady breaths under your palm as his chest rose and sank. He was warm, soft yet sturdy — but that you already knew. How I missed you, darling … It was really a strange thing, though. Given everything, how had you fallen in love with the stoic man and felt as if he was missing from you when he wasn’t around? When did that really happen?

Richard hummed and tensed his arm for a second before his breaths turned deep and steady once more. You gently tilted your head back. His face was a wondrous thing to look at. Especially in that moment; his hard lines softened by sleep, the tension in his jaw gone for the time being, and his often scrunched eyebrows softly curved in relaxation. Your fingers tingled to reach up and drag down the curve of his hooked nose, to stroke those cheeks with the slight tint of rosy warmth and grey stubble.

You refrained. Instead, you cuddled closer, closing your eyes and pretending to be asleep. You wanted to remain there for as long as possible, a lacking in your heart you hadn’t known about suddenly felt filled with his closeness. Despite everything, he had come back and whatever discussion was to be had could wait. Your eternity rested in his hands, his words, but surely forever could spare another minute…

⩤• Turpin •⩥

He dared not move. The sun shone through the curtains, the day having since long begun. Yet he lay absolutely still, like a dead man in a casket. He kept his breaths deep and slow, every muscle relaxed and softened. Your warmth invaded his skin, your scent filled his nose, your soft breaths filled his ears with a sweet whooshing sound so low he could barely hear it but the warmth it fanned over his bare chest in intervals could not be missed.

Perhaps I perished in sleep and have reached— no, I must be very much alive, with my sweet wife cuddled close. The muddled and unfamiliar sensations within him were difficult to pinpoint — there were so many of them and all quite elusive to correctly term in their newness. His rigid cock was an easier matter to understand, you felt like perfection against him — despite the nightdress keeping your soft skin from his. This is not a time for my desperate need. I may very well be on the brink of never gaining such a gift from her, I cannot jeopardize this moment or the future beyond it.

He drew a deeper breath, gently moving his muscles to give you the chance to move away before ever knowing he was awake and aware of how the two of you lay so maddeningly close. But you didn’t move, nothing about your state changed and a mixture of relief and sorrow flooded him. He wished you awoke and remained cuddled against him willingly, what one did in sleep one had little control over and if you did not wake and made the active choice to remain close to him the moment meant that much less.

He sneaked his arm free before abandoning the warmth to shrug on his robe. When he glanced at you over his shoulder, your arm lay stretched over the mattress where he had been a moment ago but other than that nothing had changed. Asleep… Perhaps that is the only time I deserve your closeness, when you offer it unknowingly. The thought stabbed at his usually cold heart, his aching cock demanding to enter your warmth and find its sweet release, his skin itched to be connected with yours, and above all he wished for you to look him in the eye while offering your forgiveness.

None of it was granted, of course. He merely left the bedroom with a final glance at your sleeping form before heading to the bathroom. His movements were hurried, the constant pressure to go back and wake you, kiss you, press you down into the mattress with his own body while offering you all the pleasure he could was agonizingly unbearable.

He filled the tub with steaming water and shrugged out of his robe and underpants before sinking into the water with a deep groan. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes he tried to resist the urges coursing through his veins with the image of you in the bed as a constant stoker to the fire within him. It all mixed with his anger, his hurt, his wish for forgiveness, and the uncontrollable warmth you seemed to thaw his entire heart with.

His cock jerked as a memory flashed of you smiling widely at him, eyes all twinkly and warm when looking upon him. “Fucking hell and damnation,” he huffed out in a near snarl. “She’ll be the death of me, I swear it.” His hand found his cock and grabbed it harshly, squeezing the throbbing length with almost too much force as the need to come to the thoughts of you looking at him with warmth turned overwhelming.

He stroked himself, the water rippled at the motion as he spread his legs wider to relieve the pressure on his balls. “ Fuck ,” he hissed as he upped the pace, thinking of your hands on him, your lips against his skin, forgiveness and words of want tumbling out of your alluring mouth as he stroked himself harder. “Y/n— oh, fuck — ” he groaned while his balls drew up, his spine stiffening at the pending release he so desperately needed if he were to have the slightest chance at keeping a somewhat clear head later.

His hips bucked against his hand, and nearly painful pleasure built higher and higher as he gripped his cock harder — needing the pain to keep him from roaring out. “Y/n, my — haaa — sweet wife, oh fuck — ” He bit down on his lip, hissing a breath out between his teeth as he tensed all over. “Yes, yes, oh fuck -, Y/n—” His sentence got cut, his entire body turned stiff, and his eyes flew open at the sound of a gasp.

You stood in the doorway, your eyes wide, your hand over your agape mouth, the other still grasped the doorknob with with-knuckled force. “You-, you called my name,” you whispered while your cheeks turned scarlet, your entire throat rosy in a manner that only had his pleasure rising higher while your eyes seemed to look all over him in the clear bath, his hands still gripping his aching cock on the cusps of release.

It all happened in mere seconds, his lust-addled brain too caught in pleasure to fully register what was happening. “Oh my god!” you shrieked and his eyes found yours bound to his hand grasping his bulging length, he was still holding it tightly and the pressure along with your agonizingly alluring look of embarrassment and innocence tipped him over the edge before he could stop himself.

Red hot pleasure erupted within him as his cock pulsed, the water closest to it turning muddled with his cum while he gasped and groaned at the relief, his hips automatically jerking at the sensation while he tried to stop himself from completely unravelling while your intent gaze fanned the flames of his pleasure with your look of horror, intrigue, shame, and longing, all mixed into one delicious cocktail of purity to be ravaged. He couldn’t help it, you were the one woman he wished to be his and only his for all time — past, present, and future.

But this, the situation you were now in, had never been on his list of wants for your introduction to his naked anatomy. He always wished to go slow with you, make you feel safe in his proximity and closeness — make you curious, not frightened. Fucking hell , he thought while the five seconds after his climax passed in a breath-snagging stillness. Then you turned and slammed the door shut behind you with a bang so hard it rattled the walls. Dread seeped into his bones while his entire body deflated in the warm water. He feared all was lost now, seeing your reaction to him calling your name in the midst of manhandling his own cock. His body turned heavy and the sweetness of ejaculating to the thoughts of you did nothing to ease the stiffness in his shoulders.

⩤• You •⩥

You panted, your chest seemed nearly to explode as you tried to stop the raging of your pounding heart. You leaned against the door, a door you shouldn’t have entered despite hearing your name called. I thought he heard my steps, oh god, oh god, I thought— You hid your face behind your hands, your entire body felt on edge and there was a burning warmth forcing your entire body to tense as you couldn’t rid yourself of the magnificent view you had just witnessed. A primal urge. A deep-seated need. An indisputable sensation of something frighteningly new yet wholly wanted by your body.

Your skin was far too hot, your legs too shaky. The sound of Richard leaving the tub and water dripping on the tiles forced you to jolt away from the door. You couldn’t stop the feelings of him holding you close in the morning from mixing with whatever maddening sensation seeing him in such a state while nearly moaning your name made you feel now. It was too much, yet your body felt deprived of something at the same time.

Your back hit the hallway wall, your breaths in hot pants while the thin nightdress felt suffocatingly warm in the chilly house. Your eyes were glued to the door before you, your mind running rampant with the thought of your husband naked on the other side — and the length of him, the force of his hand, the look of pleasurable pain contorting his features just before his eyes had snapped to your face. The way his hips had jerked and he’d groaned, the depth of the sound wrecked you while you stood on trembling legs, frozen to the spot with only the wall for support.

Hope bloomed somewhere deep within you. Hope that he would forgive you, that he still wanted you, that he still wished to be with you despite the harsh words he’d spoken about your selfishness three days ago. You quenched a sobbed breath as your entire body confused you with the mixture of all the emotions running rampant within you. It was too much and you felt as if you were wound too tight, too tense and too loose at the same time — unable to untangle your feelings and thoughts while your body ached, thrummed, tensed, shook, all of it at the same time.

Your core ached far beyond anything else. A foreign sensation of coiling warmth your fingers seemed to itch to relieve. The view of Richard in the tub coming to the forefront, the sound of your name leaving his thin lips in such a darkly needy manner. You drew a shivering breath while trying to find your equilibrium. You couldn’t stay there, Richard would soon be done in the bathroom and you couldn’t face him when you were such a sordid mess.

After a few strained steps, you managed to get to the bedroom and slammed the door shut just as you heard the bathroom door open. You ran for the bed, diving in under the covers, and curled up in a ball of tension. What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel — Your thought was cut short when the door opened slowly, the tiniest of creaking from its hinges the only indication before Richard’s footsteps echoed out. He was moving closer, each thud echoed in your core with trepidation and shame filling your blood.

“Y/n?” he asked in a deep rumble, his voice thicker than usual. You curled up further, fully hidden under the cover. You didn’t know what else to do but to hide, despite the way you’d missed him while he was gone and how happy you had felt when you noticed him wake up a mere half an hour ago but not moving away from you.

“You should not have seen that,” he said after a short moment, his steps echoing out again — drawing closer once more as he rounded the bed. “I have done my utmost to wait, shield you from my needs to allow yours to dictate the pace we move in. Why would you enter the bathroom in such a manner?” he asked, from the sound of it he stood right by your side and his voice was thick with something dark you couldn’t quite name. “I-, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice meek and strained with the confusing sensations tightening your body. “You called my name,” you continued quietly while listening to his rough breathing. A small whimper escaped you as your mind flashed with the way he’d said it, with such need and want. You never knew your name could sound so wondrous, so delectable, so lusty.

“Are you frightened of me?” he asked, his voice a caress of a rumble. “No.” “Why are you hiding, then?” You drew a deep, shuddering breath. “I-, I’m ashamed.” “Ashamed?” “Yes…” Because I feel like I’ll burst into flames if I look at you, and I looked at you when I shouldn’t have looked at you. And I’m frightened, and, and, and confused— “Why? Tell me,” Richard demanded. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t word what you were feeling, it was a mess and foreign to you. So, you remained quiet under the cover.

A long moment passed in silence, but you felt his presence. It only made you curl up further, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to relieve whatever ache had steadily built at the apex of them. You’d felt a shadow of the sensation before, after having wed Richard and lived with him for a few weeks. He’d been dressed splendidly, seated in the parlour with a book and his legs crossed leisurely. He’d looked magnificent, the afternoon sun had shone behind him and the grey in his hair had nearly glowed from the warm light. Is this that same feeling, only stronger?

“Wife,” Richard said steadily, “answer me.” “No, I-, I cannot,” you whispered, your throat tight. “Do you wish to be alone?” he then asked, dejection hidden in his voice. Did you? Did you want him to leave? “Yes… No…” If you leave now, maybe you’ll leave completely again. I don’t want that… “I shall leave you alone, I will remain in my office,” he said in a cold manner. His voice dark and deep, it sent goosebumps along your skin and the memory of how harshly he’d spoken to you three days ago surfaced. It made you cool slightly, your mind distracted from the images of seeing him in the tub.

His footsteps receded. The sound of the door knob being turned came and your heart jolted. You threw the cover off, your breaths turning rushed, and found his eyes staring at you — no emotions in them. As if he’d turned them off. “Don’t leave me again,” you said. “I took everything down, and I’m so sorry for what I did,” you continued while trying to keep the conflicting emotions and sensations at bay. On one hand, you wished to launch yourself at him and make him take away the ache, on the other you were terrified of the way he looked at you. Blandly. Blankly. 

You looked away, not able to hold the connection. Your eyes went to the window, shimmering icicles hung from the roof and the sparkles were beautiful as the sun shone on the clear ice. Perhaps those icicles were to be the only sparkle this Christmas. It tore a sigh from you, a pitiful sound really. Yet, still, you found yourself thinking that if he needed a Christmas that wasn’t all that Christmasy then you’d accept that, and deal with it — for him. Perhaps him saying your name during such a time as in the tub meant there was a chance for more between the two of you. 

His rushed footsteps filled the room, and you hadn’t time enough to turn your head before his warm hands cradled your cheeks and stormy eyes of grey held yours unwaveringly. “You… are apologizing, to me?” he asked, a low sound of disbelief. “ I should be the one to ask for your forgiveness, Y/n.” You couldn’t say anything, his eyes held you mesmerized and there was not a single thought in your head beyond wanting to kiss the lips confessing to wanting your forgiveness and lifting the blame from you.

“Wife, sweet wife,” he exhaled in a rush while his thumbs stroked your cheeks. The rainbow-coloured sparkles of the icicles danced around him and all you could do was hold his gaze as your body went taunt and hot from the way he looked at you.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Well, that was a fun fic 🤭 This is really turning into something quite delicious and I do have plans for at least 2 more parts of this story so stay tuned for that in the near future - hopefully not too far off in the future (yes, yes, I'm itching to write more for Turpin - as usual 😂)

Q: What's that one thing that bothers you with the holidays? 👀 A: For me, it's the mania regarding gifts. Like, yes, I love to give and receive gifts but I think there's a bit too much of a buying spree every year rather than an actual thought behind the gifts. I'd rather have one well-thought-out gift than ten random ones 🤷

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky  @sunnylikesfrogs

@mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243 @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @daddythanatos @elizabeth-baelish @severuslovebot @thethotthatbreathes @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @commodoreseverus  @reinekefoxart @lght-n-drk @cathym1102

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

#rickmas2023 #rickmas #judge turpin #judge turpin fic #judge turpin x reader #judge turpin x you #alan rickman #rickmaniac

[rosenfey]

⊱.𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑢𝑝,-

— 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 by @yrlietlanaevyss, @pinkfey and @druidgroves to do this, thank you kindly! ♡

⊱ 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔: cum on feel the noize by oasis. i said what i said ⊱ 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔: the completely made-up adventures of dick turpin. waiting for the next episode this friday! ⊱ 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝𝑠: gale x faerene (my main oc and a self-insert) are literally everything i think about. honorary mentions: odetta x minthara (evil wives) and faerene x the wizard from stardew valley (so just faerene x gale but pixelated) ⊱ 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑟: pink! ⊱ 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔: playing my favourite game bladder gate the third (for the 4576th time) so i can see the new kisses and the epilogue! other than that i am eagerly awaiting the 1.6 stardew update and the release of dragons dogma 2 right after because the first dragons dogma is incredibly special to me and i will go feral when this launches (that's a promise and a threat) ⊱ 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝: would you believe me if I said I don't rightfully remember ⊱ 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ: slovakia ⊱ 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛: switching between slovakia and faroe islands. if you know where both of these are i will give you a kiss ⊱ 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑠: i've been pretty much dating a real-life version of gale for 2+ years now. it's uncanny and we joke about how i literally played the game and went "oh, this guy looks and behaves like my real boyfriend. that's the one". i have a type and it's evident ⊱ 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒: ready or not. it was a blast (pun intended) ⊱ 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛: my carrd / website for my oc profiles! and making edits for my favourite game, bladder gate the third

— 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠: @fantasmagoriam﹒@tekehu﹒@theviridianbunny﹒@katsigian﹒@armorofhexes﹒@gortash﹒@haarleps﹒@obliviongate﹒@nocticulas﹒@shadowglens﹒@euryalex﹒@lutebard﹒@spookyorcas﹒@leviiackrman﹒@florbelles﹒@mercymaker﹒@wizardskissing﹒@kelemvorr﹒@bethesdas﹒@seluned﹒@feykiller﹒@utopianoverlord﹒@dravanias﹒@elluvians﹒@lavampira﹒@hungryblackbird﹒@thedeadthree﹒@swanfey﹒@dameaylin﹒@riikugan﹒@rindemption﹒@sephiratales﹒@thenightsong﹒@dilfbuck﹒@doomblight﹒@heinrix + you! ♡

#ambie got tagged #c'est moi #i tried to tag as many people as i can im sorry if i forgor u!! my memory is that of a goldfish. #feel free to do it anyway and tag me i love seeing what people are up to uwu

[aperrywilliams]

We Could Try (Part 8): Stay With Me (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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Author Masterlist / Clueless (prequel)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: The team finds out where Turpin has Valerie and Reader. Will they get there on time?

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Angst. Case's description. A hostage situation with blows, cuts, and blood is described. Hospital things and CM usual stuff. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Here is another chapter, folks! The next one will be the last of this series. Thank you for your support so far. I love y'all!

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'Spencer? Spencer! Stay with me!'

(Y/N) held Spencer's head as she put some pressure on his neck where the wound was located. Everything around them was a mess. Gunshots were coming and going, and (Y/N) only could focus on why, for God's sake, the paramedics couldn't reach them faster.

Spencer barely blinked and was trying to say something, but (Y/N) insisted on him not doing it.

'Stay with me. Just squeeze my hand. Don't talk; you need the oxygen.'

'I - I lo-' he mumbled but couldn't finish because he passed out. At that moment, (Y/N) freaked out. When she was about to crumble, the paramedics arrived and started to check on Spencer. Morgan held her tight from her middle section to separate from him so the paramedics could do their job.

Hotch didn't let her ride in the ambulance, but he drove them - (Y/N), Blake, and JJ - to the hospital.

The hours waiting for news about Spencer's condition were endless. (Y/N) paced from one corner to another, biting her nails. Her friend could die, and she couldn't do anything. Yeah, her 'friend.'

Seven years on the team, and (Y/N) still didn't confess her feelings for her coworker and friend. Maybe she has lost her chance. The thought was unbearable. (Y/N) swore that if Spencer made it, she would tell him everything.

When the doctor announced Spencer would fully recover, (Y/N) breathed again. Hotch - who always knew about (Y/N) and Spencer pinning for each other without them even knowing - instructed (Y/N) to stay with him as the rest of the team worked to wrap the case and catch the bastard shot Spencer.

She didn't leave his side for hours, grabbing his hand and squeezing it to convince herself he was alive and will be okay.

-

(Y/N)?! Can you hear me?

A frantic voice rang in (Y/N)'s ears. Spencer?

Recovering her senses, she realized the voice wasn't Spencer's. It was Valerie's.

That meant two things: she was still alive, and Valerie was still alive. However, the pain and numbness in various parts of her body told her she was not in the best condition. (Y/N) couldn't move her body, and it was hard for her to breathe. The son of a bitch had given her a good beating.

"(Y/N), please tell me something. Tell me anything," Valerie spoke again.

Valerie watched her breathe, but she didn't know for how long. There was terror in her voice. The fear that (Y/N) was dying.

"How long has it been since he left?" (Y/N) murmured. Valerie sighed, somewhat relieved when she heard her voice.

"Half an hour or so," she responded by watching intently as (Y/N) moved her body to regain some consciousness.

(Y/N) knew they didn't have much time left. She suspected the team knew everything by now, and they were trying to find Turpin's location. But it was unlikely that both could be saved at the same time. And given the conditions, Valerie had a better chance.

"I have to tell you something," she whispered to Valerie. "It's important," she added.

Valerie didn't know if she was going to like what she was going to hear.

-

"But in this case, significant to whom? Valerie or (Y/N)? Or both?" Rossi asked. They were discussing where Turpin could have (Y/N) and Valerie.

"Their paths never crossed before. I mean, until, well-"Luke trailed off, looking at Spencer.

"Until me. Yeah. I know," Spencer finished Luke's statement. The team members looked at each other knowingly, but Green didn't understand. He was about to ask when Prentiss interrupted.

"I hate to say this, but it has to do with (Y/N). She's the alpha here. She's a threat to Turpin. Not Valerie."

Spencer was aware that Emily might be right, which meant that possibly (Y/N) was having the worst time right now. He racked his head for somewhere in New York that might have meaning to (Y/N) and Turpin might know about.

"Some place she could have mentioned regarding her job in Boston and linked to New York?" JJ urged.

"I'm thinking! She barely has left the city if it was not to come to DC!" Spencer reacted, pacing in the room.

"There is no way he could know about her in DC. He knows her from the investigation the Boston department did," Emily concluded.

Something clicked on Spencer after Emily's words.

"She told me once she couldn't come to DC because of a seminar she needed to attend out of Boston. Four months ago," Spencer mentioned.

"Garcia, search for a seminar (Y/N) attended four months ago. Possibly in New York," Rossi instructed. They were holding their breath until Garcia spoke.

"Sorry folks, she was a speaker in a seminar four months ago, but it was in Filadelfia. There are no flights or bookings of her in New York until now."

"Shit," Rossi mumbled. Spencer shook his head.

"Wait. What was it about? What did she present?"

Garcia typed for a couple of seconds. Emily looked at Spencer, confused.

"Oh! You're a boy genius, indeed," Garcia chirped. "She presented two cases about serial killers on the loose—the killings of New Haven, Providence, and Boston. And! the killings in Astoria Park two years ago. In both, she consulted." she clarified.

"That's how he knew about her. Turpin knew she was working on the case," Tara commented.

"What about the Astoria Park case?" Spencer asked again.

"In the presentation, she mentioned both cases were highly important for her as an FBI agent, and she compelled the audience to not forget about them," Garcia explained.

"That's it. Turpin knew about that," Luke concluded.

They got everything they could about the Astoria Park cases, crossing references with recent traffic footage and cellphone triangulation. That is how they got an address—an abandoned building located on one corner of Astoria Park where the first victim was found.

"We got you, son of the bitch!" Rossi chimed as the team quickly prepared to go. They knew the time was ticking, and things could turn pretty messy after two days. Green also called the SWAT team to help with the takedown.

Spencer just hoped it wasn't too late and both (Y/N) and Valerie were okay. Bouncing his leg nervously, he could only think of everything he wanted to say to (Y/N).

-

Valerie's screams alerted Turpin that something was happening in the basement. Quickly he grabbed his gun and ran downs stairs. Valerie was yelling at the top of her lungs.

"You killed her! Son of the bitch!"

"What's wrong with you?!" Turpin urged, looking at Valerie for an explanation. Valerie was fully crying, shaking the chains that kept her tied up. Turpin's eyes widened. Turpin knew how badly he had beaten (Y/N), but she was alive when he left, and he thought she could endure a little more. He wasn't done with her yet.

(Y/N) was lying on the floor, in the same position where he had left her a while ago. He moved closer to take her pulse while Valerie continued to yell angrily. Turpin felt some pulse, but it was almost unnoticeable.

"Shut up! She is still alive. Don't be dramatic," Turpin said, moving closer to Valerie now, ready to hit her to stop her screaming. Valerie gulped, seeing him approaching but kept yelling at him.

"Don't lie! You killed her!"

"Enough!" Turpin demanded, hitting Valerie with the back of his hand. "If you don't shut up, I'll kill you first!" She yelped from the blow but turned her head quickly to spit on him.

"You coward!" Valerie yelled again. But when he was about to assert another blow on her, (Y/N) launched over Turpin, pushing him onto the floor. The gun he had, fell a few meters from them.

What happened next was just confusion. Turpin clearly didn't expect to be attacked, almost thinking (Y/N) lay dying on the floor. Now, (Y/N) barely had any strength, but she managed to land a couple of blows that disoriented him. Still, (Y/N) was at a disadvantage. Valerie was still tied up, and (Y/N) had no other weapon except for her own hands.

Instinctively Valerie struggled against her restraints, praying they would give so she could break free. Turpin managed to recover a bit and pushed (Y/N). He quickly went to grab the gun from the floor, but after so much forcing, Valerie managed to free one of her hands, enough to throw her low body onto the gun and kick it in the direction of (Y/N) before Turpin could reach it.

It was a matter of seconds between (Y/N) grabbing the gun and Turpin launching on her to get it back. Valerie watched in horror how they fought and how Turpin was about to take the weapon from (Y/N) 's hands.

-

The team arrived at the building, quickly descending from the SUVs as the police and SWAT cordoned off the area.

But before Green and Prentiss could settle any strategy, two shots were heard from the inside.

"Shit," Prentiss mumbled. Green took the lead and yelled to the SWAT team.

"Go! Go! Go!" 

Then a bunch of SWAT rushed inside.

"No, no, no, no. (Y/N)!" Spencer shouted, ready to run to the entrance, gun in hand. JJ tried to stop him with her hands on his shoulders.

"Spence! We don't know yet what's going on," she reasoned.

"But (Y/N) is in there! I'm not staying here," Spencer broke free of JJ's grasp and kept running towards the shot source. His heart was beating fast and, in his mind, only one thought: 'she has to be okay; please let her be okay.'

When Spencer reached the basement, (Y/N) was on her knees, arms still holding the gun towards Turpin, who was on the floor, dead. Valerie was in a corner, her free arm covering her head.

(Y/N) looked frozen on the spot, her hands shaking.

"(Y/N), can you hear me?" Spencer asked cautiously, approaching and holstering his gun. "He's dead. Hey, look at me. It's over."

(Y/N) looked so far away. Her trembling hands didn't falter the grip of the gun, though. It was like being in alert mode but only focused on the threat, not the surroundings. Spencer knew so well that headspace, and it broke him to witness it on (Y/N).

"Yeah. It's me. Come on, give me the gun. It's over (Y/N)"

Spencer slowly approached in hopes of bringing her attention back. (Y/N) looked pale, although all the bruises and blood covered her face. It was like she was about to faint at any moment.

"She's severely injured! She needs a medic!" Valerie yelled at the same time (Y/N) left the gun's grasp and fell to the floor.

Spencer kneeled quickly to catch her before her head could touch the floor.

"Spencer-" she mumbled when their eyes met. Immediately he inspected her body, locating each wound at sight.

"It's okay; it's over. You did it. You caught him," Spencer reassured her.

"I - I didn't know. I'm so-" (Y/N) only could babble at this point. She felt so weak, and even if she didn't want to give up, her body was telling her otherwise.

"I know. I know. It's okay. You are safe now. I promise." But (Y/N) didn't react. She felt her eyes heavy and her body numb.

Tears started pooling from Spencer's eyes.

“(Y/N)? Look at me. Hey, stay with me!" Spencer shouted to catch her attention, but (Y/N) had her eyes shut now, her breathing uneven, and her pulse was barely there.

"We need a medic here!" Valerie kept bawling as a SWAT member untied her.

Two paramedics rushed over (Y/N) to control her vitals. Spencer didn't want to move from her side, but Prentiss, who had entered the basement a few seconds ago, pulled him to give the paramedics room to work.

"We need to move fast! We're losing pulse!" One of the guys checking on (Y/N) shouted as they maneuvered her into the stretcher.

Spencer wiggled to get free from Emily's grasp, but with Luke's help, he couldn't.

"Come on, man. We'll ride to the hospital. Let them do their job," Luke told Spencer.

Another paramedic and Tara were checking on Valerie, who was still shocked by the ordeal. It was hard to believe, and she was grateful for being alive, but she had a sharp feeling of guilt punching her stomach. She had never felt that way before.

-

Spencer hated hospitals. But truth be told, who could like a place like that? Not the BAU members, of course. Each one has had a non-grata experience with hospitals in their life.

Now it wasn't the exception.

Spencer was sitting in the waiting room with JJ, alert for any news about (Y/N) 's condition. Prentiss and Green were dealing with the scene in the basement with Luke and Matt's help. Tara and Rossi were talking to Valerie and getting her statement.

"It took us too long to realize it was him. We wasted too much time. We could have gotten there before he beat her like that," Spencer lamented, his body leaning forward, with his hands holding his head and eyes on the floor.

"Spence, don't do that. You need to focus on her recovery. What it's done, it's done," JJ squeezed his elbow. She wanted to get him out of those guilty thoughts, but Spencer wasn't getting the memo.

"I'm scared, JJ. I'm so fucking scared," he paused to control the urge to cry. "I can't imagine what would be my life if she- if she- God. Not like this, please," he sniffled. JJ hugged him, and Spencer let himself cry in her arms.

"I - I have been so selfish, JJ. I didn't see through and accused her of the same thing I did to her in the past. I'm so stupid." Spencer needed to spill it out. JJ tightened their embrace, but Spencer wasn't done talking yet.

"Time. How absurd that sounds now, uh? I thought time would be enough to fix what I did to her. Now time is escaping through my fingers."

He felt powerless and so afraid. All doubts and mixed feelings he could have before no longer mattered. The love of his life was fighting to stay alive, and Spencer couldn't do anything to help her.

It wasn't entirely clear how much time had passed, but it seemed endless in that waiting room.

Spencer didn't want to move from there until he could have some news. The team showed up a couple of times to check for information too. They were visibly worried but tried to keep their spirit high to prevent Spencer from crumbling.

It was almost night when a doctor came to give an update. Spencer was keeping company with Prentiss at that moment.

"Agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?" The doctor asked. Emily and Spencer stood at the same time.

"I'm her unit chief Emily Prentiss, and he is agent (Y/L/N) 's boyfriend, doctor Spencer Reid. How's she?" Emily asked. The doctor nodded.

"I'm doctor Roland. I performed the surgery on the agent (Y/L/N). She came in really bad condition and even flatlined a couple of times. But we were able to stabilize her. Her condition is still critical, though. We need to monitor the next few hours. If she can make it through the night, we have good chances."

Emily and Spencer nodded. They understood what that meant. Spencer asked if he could see her, and doctor Roland agreed. Emily knew Spencer wouldn't leave (Y/N) 's side, so she requested updates and promised to come back with some clothes for him.

(Y/N) lay there, several machines controlling her vitals. She had bandages on her head and arms. Spencer suspected the rest of her body was in a similar condition. Her face showed dark bruises and red marks from the dried blood.

"Hey, love. The doctor said I could stay here with you tonight. Is that okay? I hope it does," Spencer mumbled, approaching the bed. His hands were shaking.

He kept there, contemplating her- watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. Confirmation that she was still there.

Spencer felt a lump in his throat from fear and the stuck words he hadn't been able to get out in months. 

As the distance grew between them, Spencer could tell that something was wrong, but he didn't think (Y/N) 's doubts were still hunting them closely, and he was to blame for that.

"I know you're still mad at me. I'm so sorry. But I promise I didn't want to hurt you. I love you too much to ever think of doing it. I mean, I know I did back then. And I hated myself for that. I still do."

Adrian's words echoed in Spencer's head: (Y/N) had left DC because of him, because of his poor decisions and the foolish idea that by pushing (Y/N) away, he could protect her from himself. That seemed so stupid now when she was lying in that hospital bed.

"You know? My therapist told me I needed to consider what I wanted for our relationship. That I already made all the amends I had to, but all possible amendments still seem so insignificant compared to the pain I caused you."

His shaky, scratchy voice was evidence of the tears he had shed in the last few hours. Spencer cleared his throat to keep talking, hoping that maybe (Y/N) could hear him.

"You said that you didn't trust me enough yet. And I understand. I thought time would be enough to get that trust back, but I didn't notice you weren't ready. And I pushed it. Selfishly I pushed it."

His hands held one of hers. Despite the hospital's cold, Spencer could feel the warmth of her touch. Gently stroking her hand, he wanted to feel closer to her.

"I promise not to do it again. But please, come back to me, my love. Stay with me. Please," Spencer begged with tears pricking the corner of his eyes.

Spencer truly hoped that (Y/N) could hear him in some capacity - that he could convince her to keep fighting.

-

After being discharged, Valerie asked a nurse about (Y/N) 's condition, and the nurse told her what room (Y/N) was in.

Valerie peeked through the door and saw Spencer in a chair, an arm stretched, holding (Y/N) 's hand. It was nearly midnight by now; maybe not a good time to show up, but she was already there.

"Hey. Sorry for bothering you," Valerie apologized, peaking Spencer's attention. He turned to look at her, giving a slight nod.

"Hi. How are you feeling?" Spencer asked, seeing the bandages she sported and the cast holding her right arm.

"I'm okay. Just a sprain and a couple of bruises and cuts. How's (Y/N) doing?" Valerie hastened to ask, stepping inside the room.

"She hasn't woken up yet. The doctor says if she can make it through the night, she has better chances," Spencer informed.

Valerie could see all the distress written on Spencer's face. It was painful for anyone could see. 

"I'm sure she is fighting. She'll make it," Valerie said, eyeing the girl in the hospital bed. Spencer frowned as he stood to grab a cup of water from the side table.

"You don't have to be kind, Valerie. You don't even need to be here. You can go home," Spencer said before sipping from the cup. Valerie nodded.

"I know, but that woman saved my life. Kind is the least I can be," she stated. Spencer squinted his eyes at her. Was she being honest, or was it another Valerie's thing before coming up with an ominous remark?

"Yeah. It's not something I like to say, but I owe (Y/N)," Valerie continued. She knew Spencer didn't believe her and didn't blame him. "Ironic, uh? I mean, after the things between us and how 'highly' I spoke about her in the past," Valerie sighed at Spencer's frown. "Spencer, I'm not proud of what I did. And you don't have to believe me at all, but it's true."

Spencer blinked a couple of times, trying to think what to say. He was tired, and the last he wanted was to deal with Valerie and that story. It was too much already.

"I don't want to be rude, but it doesn't matter if I believe you," Spencer said, shooking his head.

"Understandable. I just wanted you to know something, though. She asked me to tell you something, actually." Valerie said, flicking her gaze between (Y/N) and Spencer.

"She did what?" Spencer asked in disbelief.

"After she told me about her plan to get us out of there - well, get me out of there because she was sure she wouldn't make it - (Y/N) made me promise I would tell you how sorry she was. About pushing you away. About doubting of you," Valerie recounted.

"(Y/N) told you that?"

Valerie nodded.

"Yeah. Honestly? I don't think she stopped thinking about you all the time we were there. I heard her mumbling your name a few times."

That wasn't the only thing Valerie wanted to say, though. Since the basement ordeal, she kept thinking about her shared past with (Y/N) and Spencer. Things looked so different now.

People say when you face a near-to-dead experience, you start to question your past decisions and actions. It happened to Valerie, and the summary she got didn't make her feel better.

"I made a mess in your relationship. I know that. It doesn't matter why I did it, but I did it. And the extent of my doing? It doesn't make me proud."

Spencer scoffed. It was nearly unbelievable to him to see Valerie taking the blame he had in the first place.

He did it. He hurt (Y/N). Valerie was involved in his poor decisions, but it was all his doing.

"Well, I guess we are two feeling the same," Spencer muttered, shifting his weight from one foot to another. His finger played unconsciously with the styrofoam cup.

"You know? I can stop thinking about the night she asserted her fist on my nose. It was true I provoked her. You already know that. What you don't know is what I said to her," Valerie prefaced, toying with the cast strap. Spencer sighed, remembering that night. 

"That we were sleeping together before she broke up with me? I already know that. And you knew it was a lie," he said curtly.

"Yeah, that too. But that wasn't all." Spencer quirked an eyebrow. He always wanted (Y/N) could tell him about that night, but she always refused, telling him it was not worth even mentioning. He never pressured her into that again.

Valerie told him everything that happened. This time, all facts, no lies. She recounted that (Y/N) was worried about him. She said that she told (Y/N) to stay away. And most importantly, how insignificant she made (Y/N) feel, telling her she wasn't enough for Spencer and people only pitied her—telling her that she was weak for not fighting for him.

"I hit a nerve. It was clear I did."

Now things made more sense to Spencer, especially what (Y/N) told him in the precinct days ago: 'It's not on you, Spencer. It's - it's on me.' She was insecure, not because Spencer did something this time; it was the fear of that night. The suspicion that Valerie could have been right.

"You told her that?! Valerie, what the fuck?" he asked, exasperated. Valerie couldn't say she was surprised by his reaction.

"I wanted to hurt her. Of course I was going to use that. Again, I'm not proud," she admitted, twitching her nose uncomfortably.

"Why are you telling me this, anyway?" Spencer folded his arms over his chest. Valerie shrugged. She wasn't sure why either.

"I guess it's because I'm being selfish. I needed to let it out. And you needed to know. (Y/N) was right. I didn't love you the way you deserved. But she did, and she does. Seeing you two these past few days made me realize that (Y/N) is your match in so many ways. That commitment to others and dedication? It's what your jobs mean to you." Spencer looked confused. Valerie continued. "You belong here, Spencer. I thought you didn't, but I was wrong. You are made to be a profiler and to work in the BAU. And most importantly, you belong to her. You deserve her, and she deserves you. And I know you don't give a shit what I think or say, but it's true. I think you should know."

"Does it matter if it's possible that she never could make it?" he asked bitterly. Valerie pursed her lips in a tight line.

"It matters because you will have the chance to be together again. And it matters because you need to ensure she doesn't doubt her worth again. No matter if a woman like me tries to get her nerve."

It was the first thing Valerie had said that Spencer was willing to take as advice in a long time. Perhaps it was the certainty with which she said 

he and (Y/N) would have the chance to be together again. Or maybe because now things made sense, and Spencer was determined to prove to (Y/N) that his heart could never belong to another person.

Spencer sat in the chair to stare at (Y/N) without saying a word to Valerie. What could he say? Valerie took that as her cue to leave the room in silence. And so she did.

This time would be the last Spencer would see Valerie Smith in his life.

-

When Spencer opened his eyes, he saw (Y/N)'s head resting on the mattress and felt her hand holding his. Life was giving him a new opportunity, and he wouldn't waste another minute without saying what it was stuck in his chest for years now.

'I love you,' he rasped. It was almost a whisper but enough to wake up (Y/N). She didn't register the words he said, just for the emotion of seeing him awake.

'Oh God, Spencer. I was so scared. I thought you-' She stopped her rant when it hit her. 'What?' Spencer's eyes were filled with adoration, the way he always looked at (Y/N).

'I love you, (Y/N). I have been in love with you for ages.' he paused to take a breath. He still felt weak after the surgery. 'And I'm sorry I didn't say anything before and for doing it now,' he took another pause. 'And I know that you don't feel the same, but I can't die and not tell you how I feel. I'm sorry.'

(Y/N)' s eyes widened. Was Spencer in love with her? It was a huge irony and a relief at the same time. She brought Spencer's hand to her lips and planted a loving kiss on it. Spencer looked at her oddly.

'Well, it happens that you beat me this time, doctor Reid. I was about to confess my utter love for you right now,' she chuckled, happy tears running down her cheeks.

'Really?' Spencer thought he might be dreaming or hallucinating after the surgery. (Y/N) nodded.

'Yeah. I guess we have been blind all these years.'

Spencer beamed. It was really happening.

'God, I love you. Please, let me take you out on a date.'

'As soon as you get out of here.'

Spencer smiled at the memory. He only hoped to get that chance again.

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

Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @maltamurdock @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99 @thebloomingeagle @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid series #spencer reid x fem!bau!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #we could try #clueless #stay with me #spencer reid fanfic

[leftduck9986]

Mr Brown's "Dick Turpin"

A mega tribute to Mr Brown, meant for Valentine's Day, (belated... Deadlines? What are they? A Very Merry Un-Valentine's Day To You) In a giggly mood and might just have a tiny weeny pash on Mr Brown,

The local heart-throb of Whickber Street

Oh no! Did you hear that to the melody of "The demon barber of fleet street," as I did just now?

[above image: original final phrase of The Ballad of Sweeney Todd, transcribed in the key of G minor and slightly modified for alternate lyrics.]

No no no no no, I cannot have that and must fix it immediately. Mr Brown is to have an easy-listening, jazz-hands version. A fun and cheesy theme tune, but for added silliness, I'll keep the melody, arrange it for four-part closed harmony and change the key from G minor to B flat Major...

Stay tuned, but for now, time to be getting on with it.

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In Good Omens Season 2, episode 2, we are introduced to the delightful Mr Brown (portrayed by Tim Downie), of Brown's World of Carpets, Whickber Street, Soho, London. He is also the current president (?) of The Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association and seems to have been so for several years.

On first impression, Mr Brown is cheerful, energetic and highly social as he zips about the pub. He claims not to be a superstitious man, unassuming (with no hint of passive-aggression) when it comes to appearing to be avoided by others.

However he does have a particular skill in coercion (and coercion might be too strong a word): "Mr Fell has just been telling me how much he's looking forward to hosting our monthly street association get-together." I don't know how to describe what kind of a statement this is, for it's not a lie, it's definitely truth and fits perfectly to cover any and every possible version, no matter what Aziraphale did, or in this case didn't say. It's masterful. Also, there's something about Mr Brown's tone, is it...

Firm, but maybe in a good way? Does he himself have an intuition about people who need a little more than a gentle push toward civic obligation, or bringing someone else out of their hermit shell, to participate in social situations?

But underneath all that, is he himself a lonely person? When he's not trying to find someone to host the next month's meeting, does he really have a hard time keeping a conversation going and needs to carry with him, a lifeline of sorts?

Book quote in the X-Ray trivia for episode two: "Daily Mail. 'Letter from America'. Um, August the third," said Newt. "Just after the story about the woman in Worms, Nebraska, who taught her duck to play the accordion."

If this isn't only an Easter egg from the Good Omens book, then it seems to have been given a purpose that may or may not have a follow-through in season three:

The front-page headline of the newspaper attached to Mr Brown's clipboard is his conversation piece! It is to him, as the "Dick Turpin" was, to Newton Pulsifer.

He so wants for someone to ask him - everyone's eyes dart to it, but they have a feeling, that they know better than to ask!

Still, Mr Brown makes every effort to keep the sensational headline in full view of anyone he hopes to have this conversation with, while somehow avoiding permanent injury to his left elbow!!

Does he not have any friends (making friends as an adult is hard) and has difficulty engaging in small talk?

Is it just an article Mr Brown loves and desperately wants to talk about it with anyone? Someone he could also vavoom with? Awww.

He's just a person, in front of another person, silently asking them to please mention the newspaper headline. (Thank you Richard Curtis.)

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Episode Two:

Aziraphale and Crowley enter the Dirty Donkey. Mr Brown is standing at a table and talking with the people seated there. Is he only really at the pub trying to find someone to host the next Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association monthly meeting? If so, he's not having any luck, especially talking to three people at once - they have the advantage of strength in numbers, and can all turn him down, supporting each other if need be.

Then, seeing Mr. Fell sitting alone, he POUNCES!

Startling Aziraphale, who, while typically recognising and helping a human in distress (he did want to help Maggie that morning, he was just literally "a bit out of miracles" and wasn't being mean), he's also "just enough of a bastard" and is not going to indulge Mr Brown's subtle cry for attention. Mr Brown isn't in great distress in this moment anyway, though behind his smile, I don't know, he might be a tad desperate by this point?

Aziraphale has no memory of saying that he would "be delighted to host one of [the] monthly get-together's" - it's either a straight-up lie on Mr Brown's part, a lie that Aziraphale doesn't even remember making himself, or, it never happened but IS part of Adam's history reboot and his cheeky contribution to The Ineffable Plan.

If Mr Brown was ever previously in the habit of asking nicely, I can imagine that over time, unfortunately, being nice just became less effective. People being people. He's assertive here, well in control of this one-way conversation, his decision to have Mr Fell host the meeting already made.

I wonder how different his carpet sales technique might be? I'd love to see him comfortable in the sanctuary of his domain.

As Aziraphale and Crowley are leaving the pub, Mr Brown can be seen holding his clipboard high and close to his face, while speaking with a person wearing a tiger striped outfit at the bar. Earlier in the scene she is happily conversing with another, directly behind Crowley as he ordered drinks for himself and Aziraphale at the bar.

Her now non-smiling expression while briefly glancing down to the newspaper says that she has no intention of falling for it either!

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It's going to take someone truly kind to give Mr Brown's "Dick Turpin" the time of day. And even then, will that person suffer instant regret?

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Episode Five:

As he is entering the bookshop, does Mrs. Sandwich instantly recognise and turns away to avoid Mr Brown, as his reputation proceeds him? Could it be that the two ladies in the pub were Mrs. Sandwich's Girls / Mrs. Sandwich's Fine Stable of Ladies on break, or on the prowl for customers, introducing the "new model (with, or known as) friendly hands" to the community? Maybe that's why Mr Brown was speaking with the lady wearing the tiger stripes, because she's a new face in town and was just introducing himself as "The President of the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association." Had they given Mrs Sandwich fair warning about him after that?

Mr Brown opens the bookshop door with his right hand and not even the teeniest hint of the clipboard or newspaper is seen in frame, as he has both arms held at length by his sides. Though he must have been holding that blasted clipboard in his left hand, because sure enough, even with his conversation under the influence of the Jane Austen Ball-spirit-miracle, there he is, hoping Nina will take the bait.

Ah, the one time he is clipboard-less, not just because of the Jane Austen miracle in effect but also likely because everyone is being musically queued to grab a partner and hit the dance-floor.

I love how he ends up dancing with the lady wearing leopard spots - we don't see him giving anything in return for her polite encouraging smiles (How can he have such a poker face while also looking gorgeously tender? Just look at him turning with Maggie, above. Is it more to do with the overwhelming situation of experiencing human touch after everyone going so long without such closeness?).

He could be incredibly intimidated by such a confident-looking woman with excellent posture (oops, I think I'm jealous and want to be her, hopeful to vavoom with Mr Brown, or just to tease him with smiles, daring him to smile back) and in awe of her wearing an animal [faux] skin pattern - the original carpet!!! Well, the man does have an eye for carpets.

Did he marvel at Mr Fell's carpets earlier in the day when delivering the seats for the meeting? (There's also the carpet on Aziraphale's chair, which may be similar in design for Nanny Crowley/Astoreth's carpet bag?)

If everything is to happen in three's, then will Mr Brown vavoom with the next person to wear the spots or stripes of a large wild cat?

Then, finally (my favourite reaction) *cough cough* "Madam" Shax - the last to see the newspaper fully intact, slowly turns and looks him down and up.

It happens to be the second reference to ducks Shax has been exposed to within a week aaannd in addition to Mr Brown being nothing but a "poultry human," maybe this is enough to really p*** her off?

Ducks again! What about storks, huh?!?

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Episode Six:

Crowley escorts Nina and Maggie back to the coffee shop. As an afterthought, he gently returns Mr Brown to Earth and kindly so, without the memory of detainment and likely taunting by his demon captors.

(I'm having too much fun right now, imagining a missing scene, right after Justine asks, "Is he alright?" and Crowley answers, "not likely." Cut to a scared Mr Brown somewhere in the basements of Hell, being circled by demons. No no, wait, there's no choice but to take the stairs back down first, bahaha!!! So, a couple of demons are each carrying Mr Brown by his elbows. A third demon, tasked with carrying the clipboard, makes the mistake of asking about the newspaper - maybe trying to read what's left of it - and then Mr Brown easily manages to switch from his frightened state, to story-telling mode. Do the demons become the tortured? Or are they ... impressed? They snap out of their demon facade and suddenly they're all having a grand time, all the way down to Mr Brown's cell, where they continue to have the best chat of their lives and there are no hard feelings. A gazillion points for team humanity and a win-win.)

Even now that hungry hungry demons have taken a couple good chomps out of it, Mr Brown shows no sign of wanting to get rid of his clipboard and newspaper, for it has added interest now!

Even so, Mutt knows better than to comment on its new state, instead asking Mr Brown of his whereabouts, which is the best you can hope for from a fellow human being right?

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Will it be revealed that he is somehow related to the woman in the newspaper article, Janelle Keene, whether as close as a family member, a very distant relative, or someone completely unrelated, via 6 degrees of separation?

Here I'm reminded of Mel Brooks' 1987 film, Spaceballs (predominantly a Star Wars parody) -

Dark Helmet(portrayed by Rick Moranis): I am your father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate. Lone Starr(portrayed by Bill Pullman): What's that make us? Dark Helmet: Absolutely nothing!

Though I can imagine it would involve a much longer explanation on who's who, if he wants to, a-hem, witter on (Is "6 degrees of separation" basically, "I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows..."? Remember "6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon?" seems much easier to do with film actors..) but Mr Brown seems like the "get in, get the job done, get out" efficient kind and I can hear him delivering a concise and likely well-rehearsed-in-front-of-the-bathroom-mirror-every-morning one-liner like above.

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(Am I entering fan-fiction territory now?)

Season Three Speculation

So who would be likely to take the bait, or better yet, have the ability to recognise someone in need of connection and taking the time to listen, really making their day?

I can think of one person kind* enough, who may have already met Mr Brown sometime during the unseen portion of episode 1, perhaps in a lonely moment where, say, Mr Brown was considering throwing away the newspaper, for his shy attempt to connect with people wasn't working.

He may have even considered giving up on asking others to host the monthly meetings and it may have been for a while, that he was hosting most all of them himself, with barely any attendees, though Maggie was always there. If Maggie has any vices at all, let it be that while she claims to never miss a meeting, she actually just dawdles around in the record shop taking her time to lock up, then sneaks into meetings late, in time for the end! Maybe that's why she was the last to arrive at The Ball perhaps?

This kind person shows up in Soho and has some free time to himself before needing to catch a plane, so he wanders about, ending up in Brown's World of Carpets. Coincidentally, his home (might it be in Tadfield? No.6, Hogback Lane?? phone no. ending in "668"??? Might he go by "Mr Johnson"????) may be in need of some new carpeting too …

Then, seeing the lonely shop owner, he kindly reaches out, having a lovely conversation about the article in the newspaper that seems to be on its way to the recycling bin, and is genuinely interested in Bridget, the accordion-playing duck.

With Mr Brown feeling warm'n'fuzzy and valued, a renewed sense of hope and a spring in his step, results in the version of him we see the next afternoon at the pub, in episode two.

His "Dick Turpin" had finally worked - surely it can work again?

The ineffability of it all! He finally sees Mr Fell in person again after several years!

Mr Fell, who that very morning was concerned about being "a bit out of miracles" and has just used a miracle to free up a table (were "those 3 nice people" angel doctors? Does Heaven have an excellent health plan, even for former angels?) he may currently "not have enough spoons" for the kind of miracle necessary to keep Mr Brown away this time.

Meanwhile, the kind person arrives in America, but then chooses to abandon his original plans: "What the hellaven, I have GOT to see this accordion-playing duck. Worms, Nebraska, here I come!"

*a.k.a, "hand-on-face-guy."

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

When you go will you send back a Letter From America?

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Now, that was me having a great old time letting my imagination run wild and I hope that it was an entertaining read :)

But wait, there's more! After asking the internet, "Does Route 66 run through Nebraska?" I've learned the following tid-bits:

In Nebraska there is a State Highway 66, not the same as THE U.S Route 66. (Might this be how he gets lost, or where he will be while an American decoy is on route 66?);

Worms is found about half-way down the very long 2nd Road;

Places in Nebraska aside from the small village of Worms, include: Archer, Bee, La Vista and Wahoo. (imagine Crowley turning up and asking the town-folk, "Can I get a Wahoo?" and finally getting the feel-good moment of a decent enthusiastic response; Hastur having some kind of moment in La Vista.)

And the more time spent on google maps, there are bound to be more Good Omens-related places to discover!

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I was today years old (sometime during late Feb 2024) when browsing photos in X-ray, to find that this image (hidden in episode 3's x-ray, which makes no sense... swapped, for episode 2 newspaper clippings I suppose) is the FULL front page, and not just the photo with headline. The portion that was always folded under, out of sight (and therefore out of mind), it includes a legible story. A story expanded from a single line in a book written over thirty years ago and modified slightly to be relevant to near-present day events. How amazing!

"

by S. KING

______________________

THE challenges of having to stay indoors over the course of this past year have caused a multitude of unique and strange occurrences the world over. From social media challenges to the rise in popularity of rare indoor plants, we've come to expect the next big trending topic to arrive in the form of something entirely baffling.

Most recently, a Nebraskan woman used her time during the lockdown order in the United States to do the unthinkable. Janelle Keene, twelve-time Beaver County Accordion Association Champion and owner of Bridget, a domesticated duck, decided to take on an impossible challenge. Janelle decided to teach her duck, Bridget, to play.

"She took to it like a duck to water," said Janelle, who claims to have invented an intricate system of pulleys and levers to allow Bridget to press on the keys of the accordion. "She hasn't quite got the hang of reading sheet music yet but she's practicing her scales and it's starting to sound more like music."

Janelle's been uploading footage of her teaching journey with Bridget to a video sharing site and the response has been very supportive. One commenter wrote, "I had no idea ducks could be so emotive and create such poetry with their feet. Bridget's cover of 'Don't Stop Me Now' by Queen brought a tear to my eye. Freddy Mercury would be proud."

______________________

Continued on Page 4 >>

"

Well, I gotta know what's on page 4 now!

And wow, what's the likelihood of Crowley being the one taking to social media and making that particular comment? Sitting in the Bentley, watching on his smartphone, a little sniffle, sobbing-singing along to the speed of Bridget's playing, "Don't... Stop... Me... Knah-ah-ah-ah-ah-oo-oo-hoo". Later in the bookshop, sharing with Aziraphale, keen to see his reaction… And if Crowley were to know that Freddy Mercury would be proud!?!!

Of course Mr Brown is just as likely to be following Bridget's progress on socials - the quoted comment may be his and all the more to share, with fellow humans, hopefully with Crowley...

... and possible demon pals???

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As always, please no asking or tagging Mr Gaiman as this blog post contains theory, wishful thinking/fan-fiction(?) and speculation, thank you.

Let's go out on a song:

*jazz hands*

#good omens 2 #Mr Brown's “Dick Turpin” #Mr Brown has an eye for carpets #Is Mr Brown a cat person? #6 degrees of separation #Good Omens 3 speculation #Bridget the accordion-playing domesticated duck

[cantsayidont]

June-July 1972. Following Orion's brutal but inconclusive battle with Kalibak in "The Death Wish of Terrible Turpin," THE NEW GODS #9 finds Lightray in Orion in a more reflective moment. This is probably my favorite scene from the original Fourth World books, and an excellent example of Kirby's approach to characterization, so let's take a more detailed look at it.

Orion is not merely battered and scarred in this sequence: The ferocity of his battle with Kalibak has revealed his true face, which we previously learned he alters using his Mother Box. Lightray is Orion's friend and so knows not to press this point; at the end of the previous issue, he handed Orion his helmet and said only, "I saw scars---both new and old--taken in the cause of New Genesis!"

Consequently, while Orion is in a decidedly bitter mood, he is conscious of Lightray's feelings. Lightray, for his part, is laying it on a bit thick deliberately in hopes of cheering his friend up:

I said before that the dialogue in Kirby's Fourth World books often has a theatrical tone to it, with a cadence like something from a stage play. That appears to have been intentional, as evidenced by the fact that Eve Donner, the woman in the pink coat, is a playwright. (She could just as well have been anything else that would justify her very expensive apartment, so the selection of her profession is obviously a deliberate choice.) Note that while Orion seemed to soften for a moment when it was just him and Lightray, Eve's presence has brought his sardonic streak back to the fore:

The book cuts away for a bit to a different plotline (involving the Bugs of New Genesis). In the interim, Lightray has apparently persuaded Orion to lie down and take a nap on a cot Eve has brought out:

The dialogue has a stage play vibe, but this is clearly a cinematic moment; you could do this on stage, but not with a closeup like this.

Note that while Lightray is superficially more polite than Orion, his condescension about "primitive" Earth customs remains in full force. (The people of New Genesis do eat food, so Lightray is just being a dick about that.) Eve, meanwhile, puts her hand too close to the fire and gets her fingers burned:

Writers other than Kirby who've used Orion have a tendency to make him a sort of insensate rage monster, sometimes literally foaming at the mouth, but here, there's a clear shift between his simply being bitter and irritable and his actually losing his temper. Note that while he's annoyed by Eve's patronizing attitude, what sets Orion off is recalling that the battle is still undecided. From Orion's perspective, Kalibak, captured by the Metropolis police in the previous issue, has escaped. (At this point, Kalibak is actually in a cell downtown, but I don't think Orion knows that here, or would care if he did.) And, of course, Kalibak is just a pawn of the true villain. In any case, when Orion really loses his cool, everyone in the neighborhood knows it:

Note the visual contrast with what Lightray did on p. 7 above: Lightray brings light to Orion's world, or tries to, but Orion's presence brings shadows. Eve, meanwhile, is smart enough to know she should be scared now:

Eve may be frightened, but she's not so intimidated by Orion that she can't immediately cut through his bullshit:

Note that even when he's furious or full of contempt, Orion is never less than articulate; he's just bitter. After this, he leaves, but not before remarking to Eve, "And, though I pay for victory with death---I shall seek you out in that final moment! At that moment, madam---you'll have the choice of greeting me with scorn---or a tear!" Eve seems unsure whether to take this as a come-on or a threat, but when it comes to Orion, there may not be much difference.

Is this realistic dialogue? Not especially, but it is mostly very well-crafted, and while there are some wording choices that clunk a bit (to say nothing of Kirby's eccentric punctuation, which is a pain to transcribe), the characterization in this scene is very sharp. (The anatomy of Lightray's fingers in the last panel not really so much, but that's another matter.)

#comics #new gods #fourth world #jack kirby #mike royer #orion #lightray #eve donner

[allthemidnightmemories]

my sweeney todd experience

okay so this is a super long post that is packed with spoilers, so if you don't want to be spoiled on any element of the show (staging or plot), do not read on!

for the rest of you: let us attend the tale!

GENERAL THOUGHTS

the crowd was generally pretty respectful and courteous. everyone cheered SO loud during Josh’s opening line to the point where you couldn’t hear him actually say “attend the tale of Sweeney Todd.” (side note: THAT ENTRANCE. THE STAGING. WOW.) There was one weird moment where someone catcalled when Jordan Fisher first entered the stage. But otherwise, aside from a few small whispers from some very excited high schoolers, everyone was very well behaved which was a welcome surprise after hearing of so many crowd behavior nightmares from other nights/shows in general.

speaking of the entrance - josh's entrance as sweeney was incredible. the the sopranos are wailing away and he just FLIES out of this hole and starts singing. MAGIC.

the choreography was definitely interesting and a Choice, but has really grown on me the more I think about it. some of the stuff that the ensemble was doing with their hands felt like a bit much, but I particularly liked how the movement worked with “God, That’s Good!” and “City on Fire”. and by the final ballad I feel like it….made more sense to me? Like after watching the whole musical, the actions seemed to connect more?? I also liked the way the ensemble moved as a group/rhythmically - it almost looked like the inner workings of a factory (or the meatpacking process, or some other sort of mechanized thing) which is super cool in the context of industrial London and a great callback to the original run's factory stage.

Everyone in this cast was amazing. The entire thing was gorgeously sung from start to finish, and I’d venture to guess that this is the prettiest sounding that Sweeney has ever been. if you don't believe me, LISTEN TO THE CAST ALBUM SINGLES. it sounded JUST LIKE THAT. trust me. it's beautiful.

I also loved how well this show blends the comedy and tragedy of it all. With some productions I think there's a tendency to lean into the darkness of it too much, and you lose a bit of the ridiculousness that Sondheim intended, but too much humor and you lose the humanity of the characters. This performance blends this PERFECTLY in my opinion—much funnier than I expected, but still haunting in many ways (especially in act 2).

now, onward to the specifics!

JOSH GROBAN

Josh Groban was OUTSTANDING. (Admittedly, I’m a pretty big fan of his and he was my initial reason for coming to the show, so I’m a bit biased.) I thought his “human Sweeney” approach and playing him as someone who still has a shred of Benjamin Barker left in him was haunting and magnificent to watch.

In so much of the first act, you can just FEEL the tension between him being a human who’s been through hell and back and has lost everything and everyone he’s ever loved, and someone who’s on the verge and ready to snap but isn’t QUITE over the edge yet as his humanity keeps pulling him back—literally.

Even the physicality of the performance (leaning on things and tensing his shoulders, staggering forward or walking like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders, hunching over the sink or collapsing around the chair after Judge Turpin leaves after Pretty Women) he just seems so downtrodden and broken by his experience thus far, yet he’s still actively battling his own inner demons—we know he wants revenge, but you still see the human behind the exhausted face, almost as if he knows that revenge is the last thing he has the strength to do.

When he kills Pirelli, I felt like he gets no joy out of doing it and it genuinely pains him, even though it has to be done for his own survival. he even lets out a bit of a sob when the deed is done (props to the lighting department for this moment - the deep red they chose was incredible and the thunder noise was SPOOKY). Even during Pretty Women, he seemed to play it as if he was still warring within himself on whether he’d go through it (my mom interpreted it as him getting swept away in the memory of Lucy, which is probably more correct since vengeance is the only thing he’s after). it’s only after losing his chance to kill the judge and the full weight of that loss falls on him that he fully snaps into ruthless killer, made all the more effective by how we’ve seen him building toward it the whole first act.

Compare this with the sheer ruthlessness of his actions in act two. The Johanna Quartet is SO precise and methodical. The letter writing scene and the scene where he chases Johanna out of the pie shop is someone who’s cruel with ease, who’s let all the goodness leach out of him and be replaced with cold, calculating movement and intention. I also LOVED the way the letter writing scene is staged with Sweeney slouched over in his barber chair lazily waving his hand writing the letter, and the ensemble members on the stairs mimicking him like he's a puppet master - it was creepy and weird and WONDERFUL.

ANNALEIGH ASHFORD

Annaleigh Ashford was incredible. Everyone has rightly pointed out the humor in her performance—her comedic timing was impeccable and she and Josh are such incredible foils for each other, and she similarly is so physical with the role (whether she’s flirting with Sweeney, throwing herself around the pie shop or around him, or rolling around on the floor in fits of laughter). You can see that she’s made a life out of being clever—not in a ruthless way, but in a way where her quirks cover someone who is also constantly trying to survive as a single woman in a society not kind to single women.

But I wasn’t expecting to feel such deep sympathy for her, especially in the second act when everything starts falling apart. You can really feel how desperate she is to protect what little she has, and how torn she really does feel when it comes to her relationship with Toby when he discovers what’s been going on. But her HUMOR. She holds the show on a string and makes it tick, and brings such a physicality to the role that makes it so fun to watch because you don’t know what she’ll do next. It almost feels like a kid who’s trying to keep their crush’s attention—never fully believing that they’re truly loved and always trying to do the most to ensure that they’ve always got SOME reaction, even if it’s an annoyed/exasperated one

OTHER CAST MEMBERS

considering what I had heard, Jordan Fisher was better than I expected. I thought his voice was fine - because he sings with more of a pop style, it didn’t quite meld with everyone else’s more classic Broadway voices in my opinion. But he plays the naïveté, innocence, and sweetness of Anthony well and gave a serviceable performance, and I did believe that he really cared for Johanna and wanted to save her. 

Judge Turpin was suitably slimy as well, though I would’ve loved to see the actor’s take on Mea Culpa, which is unfortunately cut from this production. he’s very obviously despicable, but I just wanted MORE from that particular character because Beadle Bamford has much more to do, and while his role doing the dirty work almost makes him more despicable, his comedic timing was fantastic and he had me cracking up in Parlor Songs.

I was really surprised at how much I was moved by the Johanna/Anthony storyline seeing it staged. elements of it felt comedic (she loves him! and doesn’t even know his name until after several songs together!) but I think seeing the ways the judge has conditioned and tormented her just makes you want to root for her to find SOME kind of happiness, and I thought the two actors brought a glimmer of light that I wasn’t expecting.

The Beggar Woman is a role I’ve had to sit with in the weeks since the show. On its surface it’s such an understated role that just pops in and out of the plot, but Ruthie Ann Miles does such an amazing job of channeling the heartbreak and pain of losing what she’s lost, all while being a human being that's utterly broken and cast aside by all of society. there are layers here to be unpacked, and thinking about Ruthie's own experiences in the context of the Beggar Woman just...makes me so grateful that she's giving the performance that she is.

Gaten was one of the surprise standouts of the evening, both vocally and acting-wise. he brings such a heartbreaking innocence to Toby, and you definitely get the sense that he’s more emotionally abused/starved/neglected and just grasping for any scrap of affection he gets, rather than mentally slow as portrayed in other productions. Not While I’m Around was another song I wasn’t expecting to move me as much as it did—it seems like such a sweet song when you’re listening, but with the staging of it, I really felt the desperation he feels as he’s trying to protect Mrs. Lovett, and how much he’s trying to warn her. When he discovers what’s really happening in the second act, Gaten especially made my heart break for him and how he portrayed the innocence he lost. I’m surprised he didn’t at least get a Tony nod because I was so moved by all of the decisions he made and the approach he took.

Maria Bilbao — the other surprise incredible standout of the evening, playing Johanna. her voice is absolutely gorgeous, and you can visibly see the effects of years of Judge Turpin’s emotional abuse and isolation in all of her tics, nervousness, and her inability to use any sort of social skills with Anthony. Even after her rescue, you can see the damage that's been done, and it’s not far off to guess that she’ll bear the scars of the trauma she’s experienced. Another especially tragic scene was when Sweeney goes to attack her in a blind rage, and you just see her cower before someone who once loved her and made her giggle over breakfast. Even after that scene when she escapes, you can see that the mental scars will last long afterwards, and she’ll be another cog caught in the cycle of vengeance.

Pirelli - While I’m so glad I got to see Josh in the role of Sweeney, Nicholas Christopher’s performance as Pirelli made me SUPER curious to see what he’d be like as Sweeney. He was SO intense in his short time on stage and his acting choices really elevated a character that otherwise could be just another side character on Sweeney's journey to

NOTABLE SCENES/MOMENTS

Pretty Women - this scene is just.....everything. Josh's portrayal of Sweeney on the verge is INCREDIBLE, and there's something so haunting about the contrast of the beautiful music against the tension of what's about to happen.

Epiphany - anyone who ever called Josh Groban a cuddly baritone will be eating their words when they see this. he is simultaneously giving a FLAWLESS vocal performance as he breaks from reality and I still don't have words to explain what this felt like to watch live so i won't even try

Little Priest - Sweeney and Lovett are basically flirting during this entire song—like the whole thing gave the energy of when you find a weird friend who's into the same weird thing you are and you get to freak out about it with them. meanwhile, everyone else is just looking at you like 👀👀👀. BUT ANYWAYS watching them both absolutely losing it and breaking with reality and playing into the utter comedy of it was perfect. (also sidenote - apparently some people think Josh and Annaleigh were breaking character when they sing this, but idk it seemed VERY clear to me that they were still in character when they do their long extended break for laughter??? idk????) all i know is that when the last note of this song hit and the lights went off and then back on again, I turned to my mom and just said "i'm so happy right now" because I just WAS.

By the Sea - WHERE DO I BEGIN. This is SUCH a horny version of this show and this number SHOWS IT. Annaleigh basically just manhandles Josh Groban during an entire song to the point where he seemed very alarmed at everything she was doing and how hard she was throwing herself at him. At some point, Annaleigh managed to have her entire leg wrapped around him and under his leg??? I’m still not even sure what she did there but it was incredible and the whole audience was eating it UP. and josh also wears glasses during this??? it was such a look???

Sweeney/Lovett’s chemistry - no way around this—there is SO much sexual tension between Sweeney and Lovett. So much touching and nudges, hidden whispers between them before the contest scene as they both expose the miracle elixir, even a hug from behind during Wait (I’ve never once envisioned this song as being one where Lovett soothes Sweeney…sensually…but it REALLY worked). At one point, Mrs. Lovett stuck Sweeney’s whole hand down her shirt before the next character (Pirelli?) came in??? For Sweeney, the attraction is very resigned—while other Sweeneys are more dismissive/ignore her, you can tell that he does have a begrudging affection for her, and while he may not love her, there is some element of him that’s glad to have her around, kooky as she is, and he doesn't mind having her in his corner.

A break??? - I’m 90% sure that Josh broke just the tiniest bit in Worst Pies in London - after Lovett gave him the pie and he took a bite and reacted to the gross pie, she just stared at him and I thought I saw him smile just the tiniest bit while he was chewing and. maybe it was supposed to be a grimace, but i SWEAR I saw that man crack 😂

Lighting - the lighting of this show is UNMATCHED and if it doesn’t win the Tony it will have been robbed. The scene where Pirelli is killed, the backlighting during Epiphany, the entire City on Fire sequence—it's all so effective.

the pirelli’s miracle elixir/contest scene is HILARIOUS staged and I don’t think I fully got the humor until seeing it that way. Also Sweeney wears a top hat??? Lovett and Todd are also very conspiratorial in this scene - they're arm and arm, and while Tobias is singing, they both were whispering in each others’ ears before exposing him as a fraud, which further emphasizes the ~tension~ between them.

STAGE DOOR 

this was the part I was most nervous about because I’d heard so many crazy things, but it actually went went so well. My mom and I BOOKED it after bows (even after staying for the Broadway Cares speech lol) and somehow managed to get a spot right next to the barricade (shoutout to the two lovely people who offered to make room for us to stand there!). After what I heard I was expecting insanity, but once again everyone was super respectful and calm. Gaten, Maria, Josh, Annaleigh, Jamie, and two ensemble members came out to sign, and were all very kind and lovely. (Definitely tried not to pass out when Josh signed my playbill—I wish I would have been wittier and more clever but I’m just happy that I got to tell him he was amazing in the role BECAUSE HE WAS. Jamie Jackson was especially kind and even chatted a bit about how much he loves the show and enjoys doing it every night, and mentioned how much he had enjoyed watching a rehearsal earlier that day). Obviously the experience probably varies from crowd to crowd, but overall, I’m SO glad I stuck around and did it. 

there's SO much more I could say, and I might have to do another post when i find an *ahem* ~alternative~ method to watch again—I might even do a song-by-song breakdown of each scene even further because there's SO MUCH TO SAY.

while i don't know if this will beat Parade in the revival categories where the two shows are pitted against each other, I really hope it gets a few nods. but the house was packed and it was selling well, so regardless of critical acclaim, this show does EXACTLY what it needs to and I absolutely loved it.

#sweeney todd #sweeney todd revival #josh groban #annaleigh ashford #might mess around and make a part two later!!!

[cagesings]

i  think  i’m  a  little  sick  and  i  woke  up  from  a  three  hour  nap  wondering  if  lucy  had  any  chance  at  all

spoiler  alert:  she’s  screwed

#if she tried to press charges (which would've been difficult to do in the first place) there would've been a trial #where she would have to testify about what happens in a room full of only men #in a society where sex outside of marriage is very frowned upon #especially if a married woman went through that and tried to press charges #even in marriage that was somewhat frowned upon talking about #and that's not even all of it but it's too much for me to feel comfortable posting about #this also means that had the marriage with turpin gone through johanna is also screwed #she would be married to him and they didn't well count that back then #*❈ ‣ 𝑖'𝑚 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑙𝑒 — ( ooc. ) #rape tw #if i say anything and it doesn't make sense it's because i have a headache and i don't know anymore

[dovelyanon]

So I was thinking and I realized I don’t know why Teach me how to sing is named teach me how to sing. How’d you come up with that title?

Omg, you asked! I was wondering if anyone was ever going to ask. Warning: I'm about to ex-theatre kid nerd out.

I hope you don't regret this, @rahabrios

The Similarities between Adrien Agreste and Johanna Barker

"Teach me how to sing" is a lyric from 'Green Finch and Linnet Bird'- the damsel's song in Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. In it, Johanna- the play's damsel in distress- is locked in her room. She looks to the songbirds in their cages and wonders how they can sing in these conditions. Feeling powerless, she wishes to learn how to be content despite her circumstances hence the lyric "teach me how to sing". I thought it mirrored Adrien's constant struggle in the fic- between his desire for freedom and his desire to remain and be the perfect son, to make his father happy. Johanna never finds happiness in these circumstances and neither does Adrien.

I had a few titles in mind when I started the fic, but what sold me on "Teach Me how to Sing' was all the fun parallels between the story/Miraculous in general and Sweeney Todd. Here are just a few I remember finding amusing (Light Spoilers for Sweeney Todd ahead):

Judge Turpin and Gabriel Agreste. Judge Turpin is Johanna's guardian, a wealthy man with political power who was obsessed with Johanna's mother. After he drove her mother to her demise, he took charge of Johanna and keeps her locked away under tight surveillance. He ultimately has darker intentions toward her and, when she refuses, he labels her insane and tries to have her committed.

Sweeney Todd and Gabriel/Hawkmoth. Johanna's actual father is Sweeney Todd- a man so consumed with vengeance for his family that he is terrorizing all of London and sinking ever deeper into madness. He knows Johanna is alive, but kind of just... doesn't bother to try and talk to her and isn't urgent about freeing her? He is more occupied with taking revenge on Judge Turpin and lamenting losing his perfect family and wife. He does not try to have a relationship with his daughter because she'd probably "look too much like her (his wife)" and they'd "never be the way we were".

Mrs. Lovett and Nathalie. Mrs. Lovett is Sweeney Todd's dedicated partner in crime. She's arguably more capable and more intelligent than him. She comes up with the bright ideas while he whines and she takes the brunt of his mood swings. But she's head over heels for him despite the fact that he is stingy at best and manipulative at worst with his affections and largely emotionally unavailable to her due to his fixation on his lost wife. He uses the hell out of her anyway. He is ultimately responsible for her demise.

Anthony and Marinette. Anthony is the optimistic and hopeful pauper charming who drops into Johanna's life and helps her to escape from her gilded cage, fighting retaliation by Judge Turpin each step of the way. He is also notorious for having one of the most stalkerish love songs by his archetype in musical history.

Some notable lyrics:

"I'll steal you, Johanna."

"Do they think that walls can hide you?"

"Even now I'm at your window."

He is the well-intentioned but slightly creepy love interest. But we're rooting for them anyway.

Well, yeah. There were a few more, but that's the gist of it. Sorry I turned your ask into a photo essay, @rahabrios

I didn't expect anyone to ask me this and thought the nerding would stay safely locked inside. I guess not. Welp... I recommend Sweeney Todd for anyone who likes musicals and dark themes! The original play with George Hearn and Angela Lansbury is great, but I'm also a big fan of the 2007 movie with Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter <3 Thanks for reading my rambles.

#miraculous ladybug #sweeney todd #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfic #teach me how to sing

[purplelupins]

Hi, I have just finished to read your Judge Turpin fiction and... what a cliffhanger !!!! Are you planning to write te next part of the story ? It's a really good one and we don't have enough slowburning romance Turpin.

Hello!! Omg thank you so much! I know it’s such a cliffhanger and like the worst part for me to just up and leave it…I DO plan on updating it though. I do. Turpin needs more love in the fic community!! I think I mentioned it in another post about this but the reason I haven’t been working on it on the side is that it’s hard to get immersed in the period piece way of talking/ writing and so I’ll have to sort of just completely dedicate myself to it. I will though!!

-Nora

#nora speaks #asks #nice people are nice #without you #judge turpin x reader

[defiantbird]

Sweeney Todd Revival on Broadway!

Saw it over the weekend and have had some time to marinate on it. As a former theatre (or tech) kid I have to throw my thoughts into the void. I'm serious, this is a long and wordy babble, you are not gonna read it all, I'm really just thought-dumping.

Cast:

We were told as we were entering that Josh Groban, the big draw for most folks, would not be in to play Sweeney. Sweeney was instead played by the guy who usually plays Pirelli. I don't know much about Groban, but I do hear he has a great voice, so I am a little bummed I didn't get to see it.

Still, other guy (Nicholas Christopher per the slip) was...obviously talented-- everyone in the show is extremely talented, it's Broadway. Tremendous voice on him. He had an excellent growl and did my favorite thing (in Epiphany, he went UP on "nor a hundred can assuage me" and it was so STRONG and RAW and AAAGH I love it. Here at 2:22 if you wanna know what I mean. George Hearn is my fave Sweeney.). That said, his Sweeney wasn't my cup of tea. George Hearn ruined all other Sweeneys for me (hyperbole tho). This fellow was a bit stiff...like, he has the sound of the rage but not enough expression of it to get me, if that makes sense. He was explosive but it often didn't feel like a passionate rage, just a loud one.

Certainly a very different Mrs. Lovett (Annaleigh Ashford) than I'm used to. She wasn't my ideal Lovett (again, spoiled by Angela Lansbury), but I can recognize that she was still an excellent one. Gorgeous voice with impressive range, super animated. What was different about her, I think, is that she played her more self-aware than I'm used to. It was a little more "this lady is funny and she knows it" rather than "this lady is fucking weird and it's delightful". But, again, just because that's my preference doesn't mean this was any less good. Very slapstick, way hornier, but ultimately very much understood the character at her core.

The kid who plays Dustin in Stanger Things (Gaten Matarazzo) played Toby! It's clear some people were there just for him. He has a strong singing voice and is just super charming. Truly a treat that I got to see him in this role, I think he fit it really well.

Such! An! Interesting! Johanna! This girl (Maria Bilbao) had a really unique take that I kind of loved. She played her like a bird-- twitchy, always on the verge of panic-- which is such a great choice given the symbolism around the character. I want to scream how much I love this: it ties her to the "Beggar Woman"! Lucy was also very twitchy and jerky, what with the being crazy and all, and it was such a smart way to subtly show that these two are related without the audience being able to realize the connection until the reveal.

Pirelli (Daniel Torres), my beloved. I've never seen a single bad Pirelli.

The guy (John Rapson) playing Beadle Bamford was SO hammy and it was SO good. Super flamboyant, expertly annoying and able to switch so quickly to smarmy and cruel. His timing and tone in Parlor Songs was so fucking funny.

Judge Turpin (Jamie Jackson) honestly kind of took me out of it whenever he was around. He played Turpin as sort of a creepy but ultimately frail geezer. To me, Turpin is usually meant to be like large and intimidating and overbearing. He's an enormous shadow that swallows people. This one to me was just sort of...a grandpa. I didn't feel the evil enough.

Anthony (Jordan Fisher), also my beloved. This guy had, IMO, the most beautiful voice of them all. Like, so beautiful that the sound itself, not the subject matter, made me teary at times., especially during Johanna. Had just the sweetest face and most charming demeanor- didn't feel put on at all. So earnest and naïve and passionate. In general just "have you ever heard a voice and seen a man so beautiful that you cried".

Not much to say about Lucy (Ruthie Ann Miles), and not in a bad way. She had a beautiful voice and played the role well.

Set:

So cool! The show starts in London, with just Sweeney and Anthony standing in front of a bridge. The bridge then becomes the upper room: the flashback for Poor Thing, the upper parlor, Johanna's window. It was abstract for some scenes, like Johanna's window, but it felt very natural. Like there was literally no window, just her looking out between the rails, but you got that it was a window. What was, if I remember correctly, a crane on the side rotated to become the stairs leading down to the cellar, with the "meat hatch" on the back. Again, not sure I'm remembering correctly-- the set is very dark at times and purposely makes you think you're looking at something entirely different-- but I believe the same part had this little niche that became the asylum. Also, of course, the chair. I don't think I have a single complaint about the set. It was clever and wonderful.

A/V:

In the beginning, in his first few lines in The Ballad of Sweeney Todd, Sweeney's mic wasn't working. I hissed internally. It was only a few seconds but I felt the "NOOOO" inside of me that I guess comes from having spent a lot of time hanging with the guys in the A/V booth in high school productions.

I really liked the lighting for the most part. What struck me most was when the ensemble sang. The fog rolled around their feet, the stage entirely dark but for them. At the end Ballad when they were all lined up at the very front of the stage ("Isn't that Sweeney there beside you?" "There! There!"), the light shone up under their feet and gave them this gargoyle-ish look, so stark and deliciously unnerving. My only complaint was this like bright white flashing during City on Fire, but tbh I don't really love that scene anyway, I think it's kind of out of place, so whatevs.

Another petty thing that's less me saying "this was bad" and more me going "nooooooo"- Johanna shooting Fogg...her action didn't quite match up with the bang. Oof ouch.

Choreography/scenes/songs/general thoughts:

The flashback sequence of Poor Thing seems to be done differently every time I see it, but it's always good. This one was really abstract but incredibly striking. Todd and Lovett were lit up below in the shop, and above them it was all silhouettes on the bridge. Lucy moved like Johanna (again, aaah such a good choice), twitchy and nervous. The scenes weren't direct portrayals as it usually is (i.e. Lucy cradling the baby, Beadle and Turpin calling to her, Turpin descending on her at the party) - it was more like interpretive dance and it was very compelling.

Ngl, I didn't enjoy A Little Priest as much as I normally do, although the audience clearly loved it so, y'know. Art is subjective. But Lovett was a little too over-the-top (at one point she collapses laughing on the floor and propels herself around in a little circle), and I didn't get a real sense of mirth from Sweeney.

There is this point in the show, in general, that I love because of the audience. The play is funny. It's really, laugh-out-loud funny. Some scenes are just absolutely ridiculous and it WORKS. But there is a point-- it sort of starts during Not When I'm Around but really kicks in after Parlor Songs, which is like the last funny moment. You spend the whole play going back and forth between Sweeney's intense brooding and Lovett's looniness, and it kind of lures you into lightheartedness despite some of what you're seeing and hearing. It all gets SHARPLY cut off (no pun intended I swear) when Sweeney kills Turpin. The audience goes totally silent and stays that way 'til the end. It's SO well done, it just makes your stomach drop, it takes your face in its hands and says "now here's the real shit". The silence pulls you in and it feels like everyone is holding their breath.

Hehehhehehe I love catching reactions of people who haven't seen the show before. I saw at least one person with their hands over their mouth when they realized the beggar was Lucy.

There was some really great new little things I loved with Sweeney and Lovett. At the end of A Little Priest, instead of the two of them standing there triumphantly, they both slam a butcher knife and a rolling pin down on the table in time with the final note and then the stage goes totally dark.

In the same vein as the above- at the end, usually Sweeney and Lovett kind of look at each other from opposite sides of the stage and then it goes dark. Sometimes there's a door slam. In this one, they turn their backs to the audience and walk through the fog toward the back of the stage. In the very final moment, they clasp hands and jump together into an unseen pit. Like they literally walked hand-and-hand into hell. Internally, I'm making high-pitched sounds over how much I love that.

The ensemble was fascinating. Lots of jerky, kind of interpretive movements. In the beginning Ballad they do this thing where they all simultaneously start drifting to the side and then they suddenly stumble. In God, That's Good! they just sort of slowly lay Toby down on the table and then drag him off. It was weird, but a very intriguing kind of weird. It really unsettled you, which I think the ensemble as "the people of London" is supposed to do. They are meant to be unpredictable, dreamy, listless, and at other times wild. Neato.

I'm sure there's more I can say but I can't think of it right now so let's just stop me here because I've been writing for over an hour. Overall: Really enjoyed it, would recommend. I do wish I knew what Josh Groban Sweeney was like though.

If you actually read all this: Did you see it? Tell me what you thought! I truly really would love to hear about it.

#Sweeney Todd #Broadway

[sweeneytoddblog]

Review of 2023 Sweeney Todd cast album

The other day I noticed that this was revival was announced a year ago now. I have been waiting so long that I had to remind myself not to have impossibly high expectations.

Overall, it's a decent album and it gets the job done: good performances, good orchestrations, and stylistically is more similar to the original show than any of the other cast recordings. However, I am not sure I would consider it the definitive album.

This is going to be a brief and not-super-detailed review, just wanted to get down all my major thoughts!

For me, the highlight is Josh Groban. No, I haven't seen him live, but I cannot imagine disliking him on vocal performance alone. If I go back to listen to this over the 1979 album this fall, it will probably be because of him. My other favorites were John Rapson as Beadle Bamford (so over the top it was amazing) and Nicholas Christopher as Pirelli.

With the amount of times that somebody said "26 piece orchestra" when promoting this show, I made sure to pay special attention to the instrumentals. The orchestrations were beautiful, but I was also disappointed, because I remembered hearing several new orchestrations in the live recording, and I was excited to hear them professionally recorded for the first time. Sadly, they didn't make an appearance.

One issue I had was the accents, and hey, NO ONE'S accent is perfect in this. But in the case of Annaleigh Ashford, it is a major distraction. Her bizarre pronunciations actually take away from her singing at times. She also came in at lower energy than I was expecting, and I suspect she was focusing too hard on the dialect (I cannot say how this compares to her stage presence). This being said, she still has a better voice than a lot of Mrs. Lovett's, and definitely a unique take. And I will say that there were still times I felt I could understand what she was saying better than Angela Lansbury.

Personally, I don't think authenticity to Cockney accents is really that big of a deal with this show, especially with such an American cast, so I could have done without (I mean, Len Cariou and George Hearn don't even attempt British accents to begin with, and I usually don't notice.) This is also something I noticed with Maria Bilbao, who is an excellent Johanna other than her weird vowels.

The lowest point for me is Jordan Fisher, who really sticks out like a sore thumb among the rest of the cast. I felt he was noticeably lacking in vocal power. On a more personal level, I also am just not a huge fan of Gaten Matarazzo's voice, and I dislike Ruthie Ann Miles' characterization of Lucy.

Overall, the album feels like it was designed as a collection of singles rather than a comprehensive recording of the show. There were several choices that tipped me off to this:

The arrangement of songs such as "Johanna" and "Not While I'm Around" to make the lyrics flow more seamlessly as a "stand-alone" song rather than a piece of the plot

Omission of plot-relevant dialogue and sound effects

Absence of some shorter ballads, "Wigmaker Sequence," and most of "Parlor Songs" (which REALLY sucks because we rarely even see the full version that appears in this show anymore)

When I listen to Sweeney Todd, I usually listen to the whole album in one go (or maybe just Act 1, or just Act 2.) So for me this direction wasn't what I wanted or expected. Personally I enjoy all the dialogue on the 1979 album as it helps to immerse me in the story, and I also think it would be helpful for anyone unfamiliar with the show.

The more glaring issue is that Judge Turpin's role is greatly reduced. Without any of his scenes with dialogue or "Mea Culpa," I feel like I barely know who the character is based on this album. He appears a few times, lacks his big solo, and we don't really hear anyone talk about him that much. I don't know, I'm tempted to go back and see what his presence is like on the other cast albums now? But he seemed to be somewhat forgotten amongst all the characters.

I have listened to the whole thing twice now and I can't say for sure whether I will come to prefer it over other albums and casts. But I definitely found it to be worth revisiting, and Josh Groban's Sweeney in particular has me in love. However, I have a feeling that the 1979 album will always be first in my biased heart.

#sweeney todd #sweeney todd cast album

[natequarter]

6, 18, 23 for the historical asks! - thelastplantagenet ✨

16: Do you own some historical item (e.g. coin, clothing, weapons, books, etc.)? If yes, which one is your favourite?

yep - i own a couple of (presumably replica) roman coins and some bits of prehistoric dinosaur bone, and i have a keyring based on the bayeux tapestry. the last two are kind of cheating but i very much like them

18: Look at the clock and assume the numbers are forming a historical year (e.g. 17:58 would be 1758). What is the world like in that year? Are any significant events going to occur?

1205: oh no. king john. well, a prince has just disappeared, and the magna carta is coming up shortly, along with john's excommunication, but i don't know anything about what's going in 1205, and frankly i'm not sure i want to. on the bright side, i've missed out on the twelfth century, so i might actually be able to dodge succession crises and civil wars this time

23: What’s your favourite historical song or song containing historical references?

it's got to be the horrible histories dick turpin highwayman song, hasn't it? not that the rest of horrible histories' music isn't good, but this one's the best by far. shoutout to the magna carta rap battle, the tudors song, and the monarchs' song. love a bit of judas with my barracudas. my favourite historical song, though, is either pastime with good company or chevalier mult estes guariz. ancient music for the modern man!

(link)

#asks