#i just love when we get scripts and i love her annotations so much

[thatonekimgirl]

Jenny Han shares the script for the Cocoa Scene: "Any time that there is a scene in the books that I know is really important to the readers, it's something that I try to keep sacred for the show. I had talked to both Chris and Lola a lot about the scene and we were all really excited about it. We knew how important the scene was for the fans. The books came out so long ago and people have read them and re-read them, and so they have those words really imprinted in their memories. I want to deliver on those promises for certain specific scenes, and this is one of those scenes that I wanted to give to the fans."

#i just love when we get scripts and i love her annotations so much #jenny han #tsitpedit #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #belly conklin #conradbelly #bellyconrad #conrad x belly #belly x conrad #bonrad #bonradedit #conradbellyedit #lola tung #chris briney #mine #conrad|belly #100 plus

[futurecorps3]

imagine no war!!! remus after hogwarts decides to go to university, meets a muggle and falls head over heels but doesn't think he's good enough for her (w his condition on top of being a wizard and poor) but he brings her to meet the marauders anyway because they keep asking to meet the person he won't shut up about, maybe harry's birthday or just a pub outing or whatever??? he's nervous she'll fancy sirius but it's quite clear to everyone the second they meet that she clearly only has heart eyes for remus and the gang are like are you insane she's CLEARLY smitten with you and it literally takes everyone he knows to point it out for him to think he might even have a chance but is still floored when she's like "remus, i adore you, i've adored you from the moment we met" bc goddammit he deserves to be loved like that!!!

𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: The request sums it up, read it hoe Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader Warnings: Alcohol consumption and that's all I can think abt hehe Word Count: 4.5K (i'm sorry) Requested: Yes

A/N: I'm absolutely sobbing. This is so cute!!! I'm using the Reggie was a spy for the order wild card and roll with that. Tysm for this awesome idea, nonnie! And sorry it took so long.

Remus knew magic existed, the type of magic that opens doors, gives you luck or disarms someone. But until he met her, he didn't know there was a type of magic that could be contained in someone's eyes, someone's smile, or even in that little quirk she had of squinting every time she focused.

Y/N Y/L/N. Even her name felt like the sweetest honey when it rolled off your tongue and into the air, he figured. She was a new kind of magic and Remus was hooked from the get go. They had met on a rather peculiar set of circumstances. When Moony first got to college, he had no friends or anyone nearby to help him cope with the abrupt transition. The boys visited as much as they could, but it'd be for about an hour or two before they had to go back to the ministry.

So, as he did when he arrived at Hogwarts, Remus found solace in reading and taking his wolfsbane at appropriate times. He was doing a classics mayor and reading the Plato classics was a convenient way to kill time while doing something productive. The boy spent hours in the library, sitting on the couches or getting some annotations done on the desks; he'd be done with the school's classics collection before the semester was over if he kept that pace.

He would have if he hadn't found those notes. Remus first noticed them in a worn copy of a compilation from a specific period of Plato's scripts, the third page in Philebus. "Socrates is being very reductive. I don't like it. Out of character, I do declare" written in red ink, cursive letters delicate in the ripped white paper.

He giggled at that, his thoughts exactly. Moony picked the piece of paper and examined it to see if it had any indications of who might've written it, but he found nothing. He only knew that the person who wrote it had a ruined red pen; the stains of ink sitting messily on the opposite side of the annotation. Remus was a sucker for mystery stories and he viewed this as an opportunity of having one of his own!

A short-lived one, since he cracked the case when a pretty girl on his history of philosophy class asked around for a red pen. Remus frantically but quietly rummaged through his satchel and found one just in time.

He rushed to her, offering it out “Here” he smiled, looking down at her as she looked up at him. “Thanks… Remus isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. Y/N Y/L/N”. Y/N introduced herself, offering her hand out. Stained in red. The boy stared shocked at the realization this was the person he’d been looking for.

“Oh shit m’sorry, it looks like I committed a murder or something. My pen started leaking yesterday while I was studying in the library” She laughed and Remus swore he’d faint if he hadn’t gripped her hand. “Actually…” Remus started, searching in his pocket for the piece of paper he kept, when he finally found it, he showed it to her and a smile broke on those pretty lips.

“…I hope you don’t mind! I-I kept it. Been looking for you, it made me laugh” He admitted, handing it to her “You found me then! And, you’re very much welcome to keep it, Remus” Y/N grinned and Remus mirrored her expression sweetly. They met for coffee the next day. The day after that, they studied together. And the week after, they shared lunch.

About two months after they talked for the first time, they had gone on a date every single week. From museum outings to walks around campus if one of them didn't have much time. They also sat together in philosophy and, turns out, literature (which they realized they shared after).

Y/N gifted him a cool rock once, and he kissed her.

He kept the rock in his pocket ever since.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Come on, mate, you gotta tell us who she is!" James exclaimed, his excitement palpable as he repeatedly patted the worn wooden bar in the cozy pub they had agreed to meet at. Remus chuckled and shook his head, a fond smile dancing on his lips as he took another sip of his whiskey.

"You've been talking non-stop about her since you two met! The last three times we've seen each other, it's been Y/N this, Y/N that. We've gotta meet the missus," Sirius playfully teased, giving Remus a light shove with his shoulder.

Rolling his eyes playfully, Remus glanced at his friends, grateful for their persistent curiosity but also hesitant to share too much. "Oh, Pads, don't call her that! We're not even official yet, and I doubt we'll ever be. She'll find someone, alright, but I'm just good old Remus," he replied, a hint of wistfulness shadowing his gaze.

It was true; good old Remus had learned how to stop caring about what other people thought of him, but that didn't mean he was entirely confident about who he was.

Navigating the Muggle world presented its own set of challenges for Remus. He knew that at some point, he would have to confront the whole "Hey, I'm a wizard, and there's this whole other world you don't know about, hope you don't mind!" situation with Y/N.

Then there were the lingering money issues that weighed on his mind. College was not cheap, but he had managed to secure a decent scholarship, which alleviated some of the burden. He hoped Y/N wouldn't care about his financial situation. And, of course, there was the delicate matter of revealing his true nature as a literal werewolf. How would she react when she found out?

Yeah.

He was good old Remus: poor Remus, monster Remus, scarred Remus, wizard Remus. If he were honest with himself, he was surprised they had made it past the first day, considering he had stupidly worn a short-sleeved t-shirt without anything to conceal the telltale signs of his condition.

But she noticed the perceptive and kind-hearted soul that she was, and she chose not to mention it. In that moment, Remus couldn't help but imagine the possibilities, but he also knew that reality had a way of reminding him of his limitations. Moony knew he would never be able to claim her as his own. Not in this lifetime, not in the next.

For now, he chose to cherish the moments they shared, basking in her laughter and marveling at the way her hair defied gravity with its radiant beauty. She was his bit of magic in a world that often seemed devoid of it. Deep down, however, he couldn't shake the nagging certainty that good things didn't last for boys like him—boys with tragedy coursing through their veins.

"Yeah, no. We're not doing this shit again," Sirius declared, shaking his head in disagreement. Remus's best friends had grown accustomed to his self-deprecating tendencies and were determined to lift his spirits. Remus might have been a mysterious figure to some, but to the Marauders, he was an open book, their brother.

"That's why she likes you, mate. You're good old amazing, lovely, smart, hot Remus!" James proclaimed with a boisterous cheer, pulling Remus into a tight embrace. "Tell you what, bring her to Harry's birthday party this weekend! I'm sure Lily won't mind," he suggested, his mischievous grin widening. Sirius enthusiastically chimed in, nodding in agreement. "Just ask her first and let me know, okay? I don't want Harry to have a bad time becaus-"

"Oh, Moons, the party is more for us than for him! He'll be out like a light by eight, and we'll get wasted like we always do," Prongs interjected, his infectious laughter filling the air, causing Remus to join in, his worries momentarily forgotten in the camaraderie of his friends.

There was no way out of this one, not that he sought an escape. Remus couldn't blame his best friends for their eagerness to meet Y/N. They knew him better than anyone, and they could see the spark of happiness she had ignited within him. Moony did little to hide his excitement, his heart fluttering with the hope that maybe, just maybe, things would work out.

Now, he just needed Lily's approval so he could gather the courage to ask the girl who had captivated his heart to accompany him to the birthday celebration—a step that held the promise of a new chapter in his life, one filled with both joy and uncertainty

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Remus nervously fiddled with the corner of his book, stealing glances at Y/N across the library. The soft rays of afternoon sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting a warm, golden glow on the rows of ancient tomes and the elegant wooden shelves that lined the room. But in that moment, all Remus could see was Y/N, a radiant presence amidst the tranquil surroundings.

Summoning his courage, Remus took a deep breath and approached her table. The scent of old parchment mingled with the delicate fragrance of her perfume, creating an intoxicating blend that filled his senses. As he neared, he couldn't help but notice the way her eyes sparkled with intelligence and curiosity as she immersed herself in the world of words. Her hair cascaded down in gentle waves, its hue reminiscent of auburn leaves in autumn, and he found himself captivated by the way it framed her face, enhancing her natural beauty.

"Hey, love," Remus greeted her with a warm smile, trying his best to appear at ease. "Mind if I join you for a moment?"

Y/N looked up, a surprised yet welcoming expression crossing her features. Her eyes met Remus's, and a playful glimmer danced within their depths. She gestured to the seat across from her, her voice laced with gentle humor. "Well, if you insist. But only if you promise not to distract me from my riveting studies."

Remus chuckled, grateful for her light-hearted response. He took the offered seat, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I'll do my best to behave, I promise," he replied, a twinkle in his own eyes. "But I do have something on my mind that I wanted to ask you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. Her curiosity piqued. "Oh, really? Well, go on then. I'm all ears."

"There's a little someone's birthday coming up this weekend," Remus began, his voice filled with playful anticipation. "Harry, James' adorable son, is turning two years old. And, well, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me to the party."

Y/N's face lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight, her smile contagious. "Are you asking me to crash a toddler's birthday party? That sounds like a dangerous proposition," she teased, her tone lighthearted.

Remus laughed, his nerves easing with every moment of their easy banter. "Well, I can promise you that the party will be more entertaining than dangerous," he quipped, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "There'll be cake, balloons, and probably a fair amount of chaos. It's a chance to embrace your inner child if you want to look at it that way."

Y/N pretended to consider it, her finger tapping against her chin. "Hmm, cake, balloons, and chaos? You make a compelling case," she replied, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "How can I resist? Count me in, darling. I'd love to celebrate with you and your mates."

Remus couldn't contain his happiness, his relief flooding through him like a warm wave. "Brilliant!" he exclaimed, a genuine excitement coloring his voice. "I can't wait for you to meet everyone, t-they insisted I brought the girl I don't shut up about to the party"

Y/N smiled at that, holding Remus's hand over the table. "So you've talked to your friends about me?" "Oh shut it" He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Right before those grey clouds of self deprecation repeating "this won't last" and "enjoy it before she realizes what you truly are" clouded his mind.

He shoved the thoughts away, holding to Y/N's smile against his lips as if it was an anchor saving him from drowning.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.

He really did try to plan it all neatly. From what he'd wear to how he'd introduced her to his friends. Remus even asked them to keep the magic discreet since it was all too soon for that conversation, but for fuck's sake; it all got thrown out the window when he saw her in low waisted flared pants and his Bowie shirt. "H-hey!" He smiled, almost yelling, but she just laughed at his enthusiasm.

"Hi Rem," she sighed, leaving a kiss on the corner of his lips which she left lingering a bit too long. "Ready?" "As I'll ever be!". As Y/N and Remus walked hand in hand, the excitement in the air was palpable. However, beneath her playful demeanor, Y/N couldn't shake the nerves that fluttered in her stomach. Meeting Remus's best friends felt like stepping into a new world, and the fear of not fitting in or being accepted gnawed at her.

She stole a quick glance at Remus, hoping he wouldn't notice the physical manifestations of her anxiety. The last thing she wanted was to burden him with her own inner turmoil. But even as she tried to compose herself, her voice wavered slightly as she spoke.

"Remus, I can't deny that I'm feeling a bit... off," she admitted, her words stumbling over her nervousness. "My heart feels like it's racing a marathon, and there's this knot in my stomach that just won't loosen. I hope it's not too obvious." Remus turned his head towards her, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. His eyes sparkled with warmth and understanding.

"Hey, I get it," he said, his tone comforting. "Meeting new people can be nerve-wracking, and our bodies have interesting ways of letting us know. But you know what? You're doing great, sweetheart, and I'm here with you. We'll take it one step at a time, and I promise we'll have a good time together. So, let's embrace the adventure, nerves and all, and see what the night has in store for us, okay?"

Y/N nodded thankfully, the knot loosening up a little. “Thanks baby”. The world stopped in Remus’ perspective at the pet name but he just nodded and kissed her cheek. He helped. He was a warm blanket after a long day even when moments like those weren’t happening. Comfort.

They eventually got to James’ place; the loud music coming from the two floor house making Y/N feel even more at ease. It radiated a warm, welcoming energy even before stepping in. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

“Deep breath”. They both took a breath before approaching the door and knocking, the wine Remus’ plus one brought close to breaking with the force she was holding it with. A bright smile opened the door, hugging Remus immediately. “You have no idea how happy I am you’re here Moony”.

Y/N smiled sweetly at the nickname the boy had for his best mate. She didn’t know where it came from but James seemed to be the sun reflecting on the moon. On Moony. The girl knew Remus’ light was enough to outshine the sun itself, but the comparison seemed cute.

“You must be Y/N! He can’t shut up about you. Can I hug you? It’s okay if not, Sirius says I need to ask before hugging people but I just love it so much I cannot help myself” He rambled, making her giggle as she uttered a small ‘It’s okay’ and hugged the boy. She noticed Remus staring and just winked at him. “Is that cake I smell?” Y/N grinned, peeking inside before James stepped aside to let them both in.

“Yes, come inside! My wife, Lily, has just finished baking her chocolate cake recipe. It’s bloody brilliant! Harry’s favorite in his short lived culinary experience. You gotta meet him too!” Moony stayed behind, cherishing the way James’ warm welcome made Y/N feel a little more comfortable; her shoulders relaxed as well as her grip on the wine bottle.

He stepped in, hanging his coat on the rack he helped Lily choose when his best friends bought the house. Rapid steps came running down the stairs, and before he turned around, the smell of cigarettes and leather filled his nostrils. “Hello Pads” he smirked, hugging his friend tightly.

“Hey Moons! Did the missus come?” “Yes, she’s outside with James and Lily-“. He was cut short when his best friend, (his eyeliner wearing, muscled, rocker, tattooed, charming best friend) ran all the way into the garden to greet the girl. He was head over heels over.

A new feeling settled into his chest. An unpleasant one. Sirius was a dream. Remus was just good old Remus. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! He sighed heavily, ran a hand through his hair, and then covered his mouth. Y/N was not one to be too forward, but the way Sirius looked and acted could easily make her reconsider.

It got worse when he heard her loud laugh coming from the garden, followed by a chuckle that unmistakably came from Sirius. His best friend would never do it on purpose, but then again, his charm was never used on purpose. It just sort of happened. Remus sighed and walked outside to find the girl saying hi to Harry.

The toddler had his tiny hand wrapped around the girl's fingers, babbling incoherencies, as Y/N had a full conversation with him. "Are you sure?" she asked and Harry answered nonsense as the girl nodded back. She looked up at Remus coming through the sliding door. "Remus, he's the cutest thing I've ever seen!".

He laughed and walked over to her. The girl immediately wrapped her hands around his arm and hugged him tightly. James winked at Moony and went inside as the conversation ensued, Sirius teasing Remus about the girl he "brought home".

Soon, Y/N was well adapted to their friend's sense of humour and was joking around with Lily about how dumb they could all be. Despite Y/N's worries, it all went by smoothly. The one he got along with the most was James; he loved asking questions, and she loved answering them.

Remus had always loved her laugh; Seeing his best friends being the cause of it made it even better. "I'm telling you, he's insane!" Sirius laughed, bouncing his leg up and down as Harry sat on his lap giggling. "He's an absolute sweetheart" Y/N answered, kissing Remus' cheek as his best friends tried putting dirt (rightfully deserved dirt) on his name.

"Wait until you know him just a tiny bit better. You'll get to see his menacing self... got us in a shit ton of trouble back in school" James chuckled, making Remus roll his eyes and trying to divert her attention by asking if she wanted a bit more cake.

During their evening, Y/N kept a tight grasp on Remus’ hand while smiling at his friend’s jokes. When it was his turn to laugh, Sirius noticed how the girl looked intently over at Remus with a grin on her face. His eyes looked gorgeous in the sun with those little wrinkles when he giggled, she thought.

In that moment, she realized she wanted Remus to say her name as you’re supposed to say it; sleepily, with a mouth full of food, between laughters and in tears. Y/N saw the specks of brown in the amber colored lake that his eyes were and fell completely. Sirius saw it, James saw it, Lily saw it.

Even more when he turned to look down at her and wipe a bit of chocolate off her cheek, and she kept that look of utter adoration for him. “He’s gone” Lily mumbled to her husband. “She’s too” he agreed. Sirius smirked, getting up to get Harry to bed as he fell asleep on his uncle’s arms as the sun set.

James and Sirius were at the center of attention, regaling the group with a hilarious story from their time at school. Their voices were animated, and they gesticulated with enthusiasm, drawing everyone into their tale. Remus stood nearby, a mix of amusement and mild embarrassment evident on his face.

"And then, there was this one time at Hogwarts," James began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "when we decided to prank the entire Slytherin common room! We turned all their robes into neon pink ones!"

Sirius chimed in, laughter bubbling in his voice. "Oh, it was epic! They all looked like walking flamingos! The look on their faces was priceless!"

Y/N was thoroughly entertained by the story, but she couldn't help but notice Remus's subtle blush. She leaned closer to him and whispered teasingly, "Remus, were you part of this grand pink robe conspiracy too?"

Remus grinned, shaking his head. "I plead the fifth," he replied, trying to hide his amusement. "Let's just say those were wild times, and I may or may not have been an innocent bystander."

Y/N laughed, enjoying the playful banter. She was captivated by the camaraderie and genuine friendship between the group. As the evening continued, she found herself drawn into more anecdotes and laughter, feeling a sense of warmth and acceptance in their company.

Remus's friends made her feel welcome and included, and she couldn't help but feel grateful for being a part of this close-knit circle, even if she didn't know the full extent of their world. The nerves that had accompanied her earlier had transformed into excitement and a genuine desire to create new memories with Remus and his friends.

The feeling was reciprocated. Remus felt, and not on mere theory; the moment Y/N excused herself to go to the bathroom, his best friends started gushing to him about the girl. "Moony, she's in love" Sirius said between incredulous and joyous laugh "Oh Pad-" "Mate, I'm telling you... she looks at you like you hung the bloody stars!" now said James, Lily nodding pridefully "She looks at you just how James looked at me back in the day".

And Merlin did he want to believe them! He truly, really did. But instead, there was this empty feeling on his chest. There was no way Y/N Y/L/N looked at him in the way James looked at Lily; Almost scared of the joy she brought to him, like that pain in his heart would end up killing him and he'd quite literally die a happy man. So, when Remus dropped her off at her flat and turned his head before she'd kiss him on the mouth, the void went deeper.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Y/N couldn't sleep that night. Her mind was restless, thoughts of Remus swirling in her head like a tempest. She tossed and turned, replaying the events of the evening over and over again, each memory etching itself into her heart. There was no denying it anymore; she was utterly and completely in love with him.

The realization hit her like a wave crashing onto the shore, powerful and unstoppable; she was head over heels for Remus Lupin.

The next day, Y/N couldn't concentrate on anything. Her mind kept drifting back to Remus, like she'd could easily find herself absentmindedly doodling hearts and his name on the margins of her notebook. She needed to tell him; she couldn't keep this to herself any longer.

In the late afternoon, she gathered her courage and dialed his number, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for him to pick up. When he finally answered, his warm voice on the other end sent shivers down her spine.

"Hey, Remus," she began, trying to sound casual despite the turmoil inside her. "I was wondering if we could meet up later? There's something I want to talk to you about." Remus's response was filled with concern. "Of course, love. Is everything alright?" "Yes, everything's fine," she reassured him. "I just... I have something to tell you, something important."

He agreed to meet at their favorite cafe later that evening, and Y/N's heart fluttered with nervous excitement. The minutes leading up to their meeting felt like an eternity, but finally, the time came. When they sat down together, Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. Remus looked at her with those caring, gentle eyes, and she felt a rush of emotions wash over her.

"Remus," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I don't even know where to start. Y-you've brought so much magic into my life. From the moment we met, I felt something special, something I couldn't quite put into words."

He listened intently, his gaze never leaving hers.

"I've never felt this way before," she continued, her cheeks flushing with emotion. "You're like a beautiful enigma, a captivating mystery that I can't get enough of. You make me laugh, you make me feel safe and cherished, and every moment with you is a treasure. You've shown me a kind of magic that I never knew existed, a magic that exists in the little things, the stolen glances, the shared laughter, and the way you hold my hand. It's like you've cast a spell on me, and I never want it to end."

Remus's eyes softened, and a tender smile graced his lips. "Y/N, you're the most incredible person I've ever met," he replied, his voice filled with emotion. "From the moment I saw your ink-stained hands, I knew you were something special. You've brought light into my life, and I can't believe that someone as amazing as you could feel this way about me."

He reached across the table and took her hand in his, their fingers interlocking like two puzzle pieces, finding their perfect fit.

"I'm not good with grand gestures or flowery words," he said, his voice a whisper. "But I can tell you this: I care about you deeply, more than I ever thought possible. You make me happy like I never imagined I'd could feel. I've fallen in love with you, Y/N, and I can't believe my luck."

Y/N's heart soared, tiny tears of joy welling up in her eyes. "Oh, Remus," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm so in love with you too. You've shown me a kind of love I never knew existed, a love that feels like coming home. I cherish every moment with you, and I want to share my time with you, if you'll have me."

Without hesitation, Remus leaned across the table, closing the distance between them, and pressed a soft, tender kiss to her lips. It was a kiss filled with love and promise, sealing their feelings and intentions.

"I'd be honored to have you in my life, Y/N," he whispered against her lips. "You're my bit of magic in a world that can be harsh and uncertain, and I never want to let you go."

And so, in that cozy cafe, two souls found solace in each other's love. The world around them faded into the background as they basked in the enchantment of their newfound love, knowing that this kind of magic was unlike any other they had ever known. They had found something truly extraordinary in each other, a love that would stand the test of time and shine brighter than any star in the night sky.

˚ · • . ° .

It’s currently 12am and my brain isn’t working so i’ll just post this and place the word count in the morning.

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

#remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin smut #marauders era #the marauders era #the marauders #marauders fluff #marauders imagine #young!remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #harry potter marauders #marauders x reader

[allophonicmess]

Past's Lilac Haze

Chapter 1

Masterlist

You only wanted to help you niece with her theatre project. And it got you and your Timelord husband involved in an alien attack on one of London's most famous theatres.

So much for his retirement plans.

14th Doctor x Timelord!Wife! Reader

"Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,

Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,

Most brisky juvenal and eke most lovely Jew,

As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.

I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb."

You read with your best olden accent and high-pitched tone, imitating a squeaky girl's voice as the play asks you to. No reaction. You looked up from your script, expecting Rose to, in turn, answer with her line.

"Ninny's tomb." You repeated, nodding expectantly towards the crumpled printout in her hands. It was covered in annotations and highlighting, making it somewhat hard to read the actual text.

"You have to correct me now. Because I said Ninny's tomb." You explained, moving onto your knees to lean over and point her to the correct line. But she just stared at the text, trying to figure out what to do.

"Uh, but why do I need to correct you?" She suddenly started flipping through the pages, trying to find some context that seemed to be missing. She sighed, shaking her head in frustration.

"You need to correct me. Flute says it wrong. It needs to be Ninus tomb." You explained, showing her your own less annotated but aged copy. 

"But you just said that! Ninus tomb-"She felt irritated. It was a mistake to even enter the theatre club. She wasn't made for the stage, as learning text was way too hard. And she knew her acting wasn't much better; her mum noticed it too, cringing during the open rehearsals but always pretending to love it.

"No, that's the joke. Flute says Ninny's tomb so that Quince can correct him- "You stopped, setting down your text." We'll take a break. I can see that you are losing concentration." 

You got up, placing your booklet on the wooden coffee table that sat in front of the red satin two-seater. Rose had asked you to help her with her theatre role, much to the dismay of the Doctor (who bragged that he once was a Shakespearean actor, but Rose didn't care too much). So you offered her the chance to choose your study environment from any place she could think of. But instead of using the room emulator, she decided the Tardis library, which now came in a gorgeous dark wood and deep red satin theme, was the perfect environment. And you had to agree; It was a great choice.

"I'm going to get us some drinks, and then we can continue. You want tea or hot chocolate?" you asked, gently rubbing her shoulder. You loved your new role as her magic alien auntie, or so she coined the term. 

"Go back to your texts? I thought you two were done." The Doctor called as he entered the room. He had taken the day to set some things with Unit. They called in multiple crisis meetings to ensure that another incident like the Toymaker would not be possible. He hated the politics of it. So boring. But he saw the action plan as a positive initiative to prevent further harm to Earth or its citizens, so it was worth the effort. 

He confidently walked over to you, catching you by the waist to pull you into a hug. He hugged a lot. It was as if his body felt the need to compensate for the hug-free dry stretch during number 12. Not that you minded; his clinginess was somewhat cute.

"There is no need to get back to the text. I'll just text my theatre teacher and tell her I quit." Rose sighed, dropping her script next to your booklet on the table and sinking into her seat.

"No, you can't!" The Doctor whined, but he quickly whispered into your ear. "She that bad?" He cringed, hoping that Donna had been exaggerating. 

You rolled your eyes, thinking of a good answer. "Not bad, just… slow of study." You laughed softly at your own joke. But you quickly regretted it when you saw that twinkle in the Doctor's eyes. He had caught on. Oh no.

"Slow of study, you say?" He spoke with a booming theatre voice. 

"Oh no, please." You shook your head at him, hoping to make him stop. But it wasn't any good as, with starting his fourteenth life cycle, he had reached his Dad-joke era.

"Please don't" You pleaded softly.

"Have you the lion's part written?" He continued, moving away from you to kneel down at the side of the sofa. He was going all in, hiding behind the sofa's armrest only to slowly come up behind it. He looked at Rose with a playful expression, which shifted into a mix of shyness and embarrassment. The young woman tried to look away, to keep the frown on her face. But she couldn't fight the smile that spread over her face caused by the Doctor's shenanigans.

"Pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study" he asked in a pinched voice. He stayed low, looking between Rose and the texts on the table.

A moment of silence as the Doctor stayed true to his role, and Rose's attitude began to crumble. You watched with a smile on your face. You believed him about having been a Shakespearean actor. He had talent.

"You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring," Rose answered in a small voice. She crossed her arms, trying to appear uninterested as the Doctor began to cheer.

 "Ha! See, you do know the text!" He laughed, quickly getting up and moving around the sofa to stand behind it. He laughed, shaking Rose by her scrunched-up shoulders. She tried very hard to keep quiet but stood no chance against the Doctor's infectious laughter.

"You will give the best Peter Quince performance there ever was. I just know it!" He turned, looking at your reaction. But you simply stood in the doorway, grinning softly at him. 

You loved to see him at ease in his new life; just see him be happy. 

He loved to make you happy; be the cause of that radiant smile. 

"Okay, then. You help her study since you seem to know the text by heart." You crossed your arms in a challenging manner. 

"I'll go get some drinks." You turned into the hallway to get to the kitchen, but Rose stopped you, calling your name.

"It would be really helpful to go and see a performance, no? For uhh... Artistic inspiration." She suggested but continued before you had the chance to comment. "And I don't mean the recordings. They are nice, sure, but-" 

"It's not the same as live theatre." The Doctor continued, nodding in agreement. He had settled down on the other seat next to his niece, casually leaning back, arms crossed over his chest and nodding slowly. 

"Exactly!" Rose swiftly turned around in her seat, looking at you with expectation. She knew that she didn't need to persuade the Doctor. He was ready and excited for any type of trip despite his retirement. You were the one she needed to convince.

"No." You stated simply. "We can go to the theatre like regular people. You know, take the bus, pay for tickets and so on. But we are not travelling." You shook your head. The term holds a much more significant meaning to the three of you than to the ordinary person. But Rose was all too aware that she had the two of you wrapped around her finger.

"Oh, c'mon! We don't have to travel far. It was on at the Globe this summer. What's a few months, eh?" The Doctor argued, his legs now kicked up onto the table.

You huffed a laugh. "Just a few months? Funny coming from the man that is still having difficulties with precision landing." 

"Oh, no, not this again." He sighed, "I land where I need to go; the Tardis works in mysterious ways. It knows when I need to be off by a few days… or years…" 

Right. You felt no need to comment on what could only be a joke. 

"Besides, I spent the last years always on the go. Been able to practice a lot, you know? I mean, compared to you-"

 "We don't talk about that now." You warned him gently yet firmly. 

He turned around to face you, genuinely sorry about bringing the topic up. 

"Talk about what?" Rose picked up on the tense situation. This was precisely what you tried to avoid. 

"I'll explain it to you eventually, but not now. It's a bit touchy." You told her, hopefully stopping her from asking any further. And she understood, nodding with empathy and then turning back to her text, thinking that any talk about travelling was over.

 For a moment, the library got very quiet. Only the soft cracking of wood and the rustlings of paper could be heard.

You were going to be strict, just once. Only this one time.

…

…

…

To hell with it.

You sighed deeply: "I love the Globe, I really do. But this year's version wasn't any good." 

Your comment made Rose set down her notes and turn in your direction slowly. She was about to activate her puppy-dog look, but you already gave in.

"1598-"You couldn't finish your sentence in time as she had already gotten up to wrap you up in a big hug.

 "But! My rules." You hugged her with a soft smile. The Doctor watched you two with amusement.

"We go there, we watch the play, and we leave. No prancing around and no adventuring." 

Rose let go of you, nodding very quickly and waiting for further instructions. You huffed a laugh at her giddy expression, nodding towards the hallway to notion her to get to the console room.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She called, running towards the console room. 

The Doctor also got up, watching after and chucking softly at her. "She is making you go soft." He noted, pushing up the sleeves of his dress shirt. "Soon she will be unstoppable, spoilt rotten and hijacking the Tardis", He joked, moving in slow, languid steps towards you. You were still leaning against the wall by the door.

"Nah, not on my watch." You pushed yourself off the wall to exit the room. But the Doctor quickly caught your wrist, holding it gently. He looked at you apologetically.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up. That wasn't appropriate nor funny." He looked at you sadly, trying to let you feel his honesty. You nodded, turning your hand in his hold to his hand. 

"It's okay. She'll have to know eventually. Keeping a tragic backstory hidden from that one? You wish." You joked, squeezing the Doctor's hand and leading him outside. He quickly moved to kiss your temple. It made you pause, taking him in momentarily and appreciating how your story had turned out.

"But- "You spoke into the moment of silence.

 He huffed a laugh: "But?... You fly?" 

You grinned, keeping yourself steady on his shoulders as you reached up to peck a kiss on his lips.

"You know it, Darling."

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #fourteenth doctor #the doctor x reader #reader insert #dw #14th doctor x reader #14th doctor #rose temple noble #dw specials #x reader #timelord!reader #timelord #dw spoilers

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Script: Meraki Thoughts and Notes, ACT I

...Remember when I said if we don't get something new I'll reach the phase where I dissect the movie frame to frame?

Yeah so I did decide to annotate the bloody script I am that obsessed, will put this into either two parts or three parts, this is from the start to Paris

Highlight:

Red: Deleted Scenes

Yellow: Different from the movie

Blue: Fun/Interesting Movement Descriptions

Green: Extra Information of character/set

Right off the bat, we have a deleted scene

I need someone to enlighten me about these markings: what do the numbers and letters mean? I searched online and it said that numbers means a scene, but what counts as one scene? And what is the letter then?

Again, three more deleted scenes, what the fuck. And why is the first one labelled 1? Was the movie originally supposed to start there before they added the receiving line in re-shoots?

Henry was shaking a person's hand when Alex comes up to him in the movie

TRIES TO LICK IT???? ALEX THE FUCK

Also note how the frosting thing is before "tell me something" here but after that line in the movie: In the movie, Henry didn't not see any of the frosting shenanigans since he turned away to greet someone else. The script doesn't state what Henry's doing while Alex fucks up

Two more deleted scenes!!! One of which should be Aneesh's favourite scene to film where Alex asks her how much trouble does she think he's in

Canonical Zahra and Ellen age

Ellen staring at Alex was not in the final cut, we go from the credits directly to Ellen's line. Also the "killing him" is sort of a book reference: P28 Ellen: "all I want is to have the CIA fake your death and ride the dead-kid sympathy into a second term"

TWO MORE DELETED SCENES WHAT THE FUCK

ANOTHER ONE

Ah so that's why Taylor's post of him in "Kensington Gardens" captioned “IT'S ALL LUSHHH”

Huh, he's awed

Nick improvised Henry's "Both" line

Clench teeth not that visible in the actual scene but we get the message

"Juicy photo" what the fuck

"This won't be fun" about that Alex....

Two more, one of which is the Cornetto scene, what's the other one?

Obviously we did not get this line about the outlets in the movie, but also ??? Do American outlets not have lights? Is he talking about this thing? (the red part is a light)

Henry you're enjoying yourself aren't you

ANOTHER ONE

Well this is a mess

"Essentially Spooning" WHAT

I feel like "isn't entirely unsexy" is from the book but I can't remember???

"The most shit-eating of grins"

He didn't wave, he did the V hands. That was probably Taylor lol

Canonical Oscar Age! So both Oscar and Ellen are 55, let's say movie Alex is 25 then Jesus Christ he's right they were babies when they had Alex

ANOTHER ONE I'M SOBBING AT HOW MANY AT THIS POINT

Firstprince Book list!!!

So this is the opposite in the movie: Henry was the one to turn around and face up instead of Alex, Alex was staring at imaginary Henry the whole time until he went to press "hang up" on his phone, on his other side

what the fuck 😭

Canon Percy Age: 24!

He was in fact wearing a white blazer with black swirls (I really liked that outfit).

"Percy is just as impressive as his clothes" HELL YEAH

"coppery-mustard"

"knowing smirk" the fuck

POST WALLFLOWER LMFAO

"dancing his ass off" love your word choice Matthew

"subtly bops to the music" yup, somehow think that applied to Nick at parties too

Aww Alex finds it "ridiculously endearing"

"even sexier midnight kiss" lmfao

"crestfallen" awww nooo Henry bbg :(

"Everyone's hands are on him, wanting a piece of ACD"... huh.

WHAT IS IT NOW

"They look so right together"

"panic growing in his chest, genuine fear crossing his face" HENRY　😭

"utterly gobsmacked" again, interesting choice of words, but accurate

TWO MORE WHAT THE FUCK

Alex was not on the floor, he was stretching against the sofa, I feel like that's a Taylor thing, but also he needs to see the TV on the wall

AGAIN????? MATTHEW!!!!

"Young James Bond" YUP

"entranced by Henry"

THREE???? ARE YOU KIDDING ME????

"trying out the perfect suave and sophisticated pose to greet Henry" ends up just standing straight

Can you fucking imagine the table read and Matthew saying "and THEY GO AT IT BABY"

"raw and aggressive and hot -- like they're trying to eat each other"

Note that the movement description didn't mention lifting Henry on the table or Alex hitching his thigh up, so that was designed on set

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A CLOSE-UP????

“Gently” are we sure about that

"the bluest balls on the planet" lmfao

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE DELETED HERE OH MY GOD

"utterly devasting" yup

Okay there's a lot of differences here: Henry doesn't close the door, Alex grabs Henry's waist not vice verse, Henry kissed down his neck and chest after this dialogue and they tumble over the sofa, but also how to you expect him to kiss Alex's chest while simultaneously unbuttoning his shirt when they're both verticle

"J Crew finest" straight from the book

"The power of his thighs", "his arse bouncing hard in the saddle"

"who has never been so jealous of a saddle" OH MY GOD PFFTTT

I guess 55 is the extended polo scene with Bea and Pez

"attack each other" "pawing"

"Alex can't decide where to put his hands because he wants to put them everywhere at once" Istg this is a book line but I can't find it at the moment, will update when I do

YANKS in all caps

"Their meals are gone" So the photos from Matthew's BTS post where they had their meals was before this scene? But there isn't a deleted scene before or after the Paris cafe scene in the script?

Henry is charmed, huh

"whistles in amazement"

HE WAS SUPPOSED TO WINK?

Alex didn't laugh, we start the hotel scene with his back to the camera

"Henry wraps his arms around him" ... sorta? But in the movie it's Alex's shoulders

"on Henry's chest" okay yeah so this was for short Alex, TZP would have to contort himself to do that

In the movie we only see Henry undressing

(Dammit two more images but I reached the posting limit, hang on)

[orlafilmblog]

The Performance – Shoot Days

Well a lot has happened since my last post… and by a lot I mean we wrapped the film! My head is all over the place but overall I am so happy with how everything went. It was a (mostly) stress free shoot and I have come out the other end eternally grateful for the amazing talents that I had the pleasure to work with (I have also come out the other end absolutely EXHAUSTED but it was worth it hopefully)!

Leading up to the shoot I had meetings and auditions and rehearsals and eventually I felt prepared. Or as prepared as I could be! I had a heavily annotated script (see my previous posts) which I felt allowed me to have confidence in myself. If anyone asked a question or if I was ever unsure, I knew I could turn to my script and find the answer somewhere in my mess of notes.

DAY ONE

This was always going to be our longest day as we were aiming to shoot nine out of the eleven scenes! Once everyone had arrived we sat down and I gave some form of inspirational speech that seemed to set the tone and we got to work.

The vibe on set was really positive, and as we were filming in my flat it meant we had a comfortable supply of teas, coffees, and snacks. Even when we were running really behind schedule, I still felt calm and under control. I was very aware that if I seemed stressed, then that would trickle down and effect the whole crew. So I tried to keep a level head whilst Jack (the wonderful 1st AD) did all the stressing for me. As I just said, we did fall quite far behind schedule. I think this was due to a few reasons: 1) It was our first day, we were getting into the swing of things, figuring out how we all worked together. 2) We overestimated how much we could shoot in a day. 2) We underestimated how long some of the set ups would take. Our schedule was easily shifted to allow us to film scene 2 and 3 on the Sunday afternoon instead, which meant everyone could get a good nights sleep. We could have pushed to get it all done, but I think that would ultimately had a detrimental effect on everyone.

I felt I worked with the actor Millie really well on set. I have worked with Millie since we were 15, yet this felt like one of the first times I was properly directing her. I feel I have finally got a strong and solid grasp on what my role is as a director and how I apply that to working with actors. Millie is a very talented actor, and I felt my direction was able to help get the best performance from her.

My uncertainty around my role came into play when working with camera. I am unsure where the line is of what I help with and what I don’t. I was more than happy to be moving lights and helping out when Eva needed it, especially when we needed to speed up a bit, however I’m aware this isn’t ‘my role’. I just felt it wasn’t right for me to sit at the side whilst the camera team set up.

Speaking of the camera team, they were fabulous. I could sing Eva’s praises till the cows come home. She is so talented <3 I should also mention that Katie redesigned my flatmate David’s room into the most lovely pink room I have ever seen! Her input was invaluable.

After the final crit I’ll write a post about each member of the crew in detail, because my god they are all amazing!!

Anyway, overall I felt Day One went really well despite being behind schedule. Everyone worked well together and we filmed some great stuff 😊

DAY TWO – REHEARSALS

I started Day Two with two hours of rehearsals with Millie and Alix. This was the first proper in person rehearsal I had run for The Performance, and I was nervous going into it. My main goal was to make sure the actors felt they knew the blocking like the back of their hand, and also to make sure they had a strong understanding of each line of dialogue. I began by briefly talking about the script and characters, but we didn’t spend too long on this as we had had individual online rehearsals talking a lot about this. We moved onto discussing Scene 7 (what we were shooting tonight). We talked about the importance of the scene and the headspace each character was in. We then went through the scene line by line, discussing the aims and intentions behind each. I would get Millie and Alix to read out a short section of dialogue, then we would discuss it, I would give some direction, and we would go again. Each time we would build upon it by going from the start of the scene up until where we had stopped. I feel this was a good way for the actors to understand not only the individual lines, but how they all fitted together to create a fuller emotional journey. Once they were comfortable with the lines, we added in the blocking. I knew how important it was for Millie and Alix to feel familiar with the blocking as I didn’t want them to have to think about where they were moving next during their performance. We paid specific attention the how the hug at the end was going to work, as Millie voiced concerns about hugs often feeling awkward and looking unnatural. I left the rehearsal feeling a lot more confident about the upcoming filming.

DAY TWO – SHOOT

During the afternoon we filmed the scenes that had been moved from the day before. These went extremely well and I am so glad we didn’t push ourselves to rush them, as I feel they are some of my favourite moments in the film.

We quickly got packed up and headed to our outside location. We had two lovely first years called Sam and Monica join us, and they were super helpful to have on set! We decided instead of shooting in front of ATIK, we would shoot across the road in a side street as it was quieter and more visually interesting. The actors arrived as we were setting up, and I ran through the blocking with them in the space. We also added in some crew as extras just to make it slightly more realistic. Despite the cold, I feel once again the vibe on set was great. We met very few challenges with ease and wrapped on time! I think I could have pushed myself more in terms of giving feedback to actors. I found it hard to focus on the image and the performance and everything else going on, so I often would forget any thoughts I had during takes, which wasn’t great. In the future I think I would record very brief notes during takes as reminders.

Then we had a day off! (well, ‘day off’ from shooting)

DAY THREE

This was it! The big clubbing day! I had no idea how many extras were going to turn up, so I just had to cross my fingers and hope for the best. We arrived on set for 9:45am, with the expectation of being let inside Cab Vol at 10am. Cut to 10:10am and we are still not in, and I am beginning to panic. After lots of frantic emails and phone calls, turns out the guy was just running late. It was non-stop from the moment we got in. We knew we HAD to but out by 5pm, so ideally we would have to wrap earlier than that. I had rehearsed with the actor Rosie online the day before, so I felt confident she knew what she was doing. I spent some time blocking the actors and the intimate actors and making sure they all understood what was going to happen during each shot. We unfortunately couldn’t get the sound working through the club speaker system, but Lucy had brought a little speaker and later in the day James Stevenson (our king and saviour) brought his guitar amp! I think not being able to get the sound system working through me off more than it should have. I should have just accepted it and moved onto more important things.

Extras began to show up and by the end of the day we had a good room full of folk! I am so thankful to everyone that came, it really made the film ten times better. The shots Eva filmed are gorgeous and I am so happy with how it all turned out. I think I did let some aspects of the scene fall through the cracks as my attention was divided into so many different things; I think I should have just taken 5 minutes at the start to myself to read through my notes and remind myself of what I wanted each element of this scene to do. But oh well, we wrapped EARLY?!

In summary…

My brain is mush. I really am so exhausted (hence why this post is kind of all over the place). I am really happy with how the shoot went, and incredibly proud of everyone that worked so hard to make my little gay women film. I think I still need some time to process and reflect. Bonnie and I are currently on Longboard Nights, but will be starting the edit asap when we return to Edinburgh. I am excited to see how the film can be shaped in he edit, and then how it can be taken even further with the sound design.

(i am so in love with everyone who worked on this xx)

#film project

[xining20]

Here’s a great article from George O’Connor, the author and cartoonist behind the bestselling Olympians graphic novel series. Something I learned from reading it is that “after the famous compromise that allowed Persephone to spend six months a year in the Underworld with her abductor/husband Hades and six months on Olympus with her mom Demeter, there are no more stories featuring Persephone on Olympus.” On the other hand, Persephone appears in many myths as the Queen of the Underworld, including the stories of Heracles, Orpheus, Psyche, Odysseus, and Aeneas. According to O’Connor, this discrepancy cannot be hand-waved as an inordinate number of myths taking place in winter. While doing research for Hades: Lord of the Dead (Book 4 in the series), he came across a very comprehensive article (unfortunately now gone from the Internet) where the author closely examined details in myths like “mentions of specific flowering plants, weather and festivals” and “was able to determine that Persephone pretty much spends all year with Hades in the Underworld.”

I know that statement probably sounds shocking to all of us who were taught that Persephone’s myth is just an explanation for why the seasons change. However, if you do a close reading of the mythos, you will find that her role as a powerful and feared chthonic goddess is far more prominent than her association with flowers and springtime. For example, in the Iliad and the Odyssey, she is only ever depicted as Dread Persephone and the consort of Hades, there is zero mention of an abduction, and no connection is even made between her and Demeter. While the Theogony does say that Persephone is the daughter of Demeter and briefly alludes to Hades abducting her, she is still firmly established as the Dread Queen of the Underworld and Hesiod never says that she divides her time between Hades and Olympus. Virgil goes even further and explicitly says in Book I of the Georgics that “Proserpine reclaimed cares not to follow her mother.” Things get even more interesting when we look into Mycenaean Greece, the Bronze Age precursor to Classical Greece. While Persephone’s name has been found in Linear B (the syllabic script used by the Mycenaeans), Hades’s name never appears in the Linear B inscriptions, which means that we currently have no indication that he even existed in Mycenaean Greece. So, Persephone’s existence and role as an Underworld goddess probably predate Hades. For more deep dives, I would recommend checking out Ann Suter’s book The Narcissus and the Pomegranate and watching Overly Sarcastic Productions’ video Miscellaneous Myths: Hades and Persephone.

P.S. Anyone who loves mythology should read George O’Connor’s Olympians books. The art is gorgeous and he includes extensive research notes and annotations at the end of every book. O’Connor treats every god and goddess with respect and nuance and avoids demonizing or over-valorizing any of them. I actually like his books far more than anything from Rick Riordan.

#George O'Connor #hades and persephone #hades x persephone #greek mythology

[waitimcomingtoo]

Kiwi

Pairing: Peter Parker x film enthusiast!reader

Synopsis: Peter is skeptical of your new guy friend

Masterlist

You were a bit of a film nerd.

You always had something to say about a film. Whether it was random trivia about the actors or the original version of the script, you knew it and you had to share. Every time Peter heard you say, “did you know…”, during a movie, he knew he was in for something great. You seemed to know everything about every movie, and it brought Peter a great deal of amusement. His favorite thing, however, was when you showed him your favorite movies. You’d stay silent during these, always so enchanted by them. But when your favorite scene was coming, you’d let Peter know by giving his hand an anxious squeeze. That’s when he knew he had to stop looking at you and pay attention.

“Okay.” You turned the movie off and looked at Peter. “Be honest. What did you think?”

“I liked it.” Peter lied. He had barely paid attention. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the soft smile that rested on your lips throughout the film.

“That’s all?” You whined. “Did you know it took seven years to animate that dinner scene? Seven years for a three minute sequence. Isn’t that amazing?”

“It is.” Peter chuckled. “I was very impressed.”

“Me too.” You gushed. “It gets better every time.

“I bet. So how was your day today?” Peter asked as you laid your head down on his lap.

“I had a great day, actually.” You smiled up at him.

“Yeah?” Peter grinned as he stroked your hair. “What happened?”

“I was talking about The Babadook in theater today and this guy chimed in and told me it was his favorite horror film. Other than Midsommer, obviously.” You began. “Apparently he loves movies just as much as I do. Can you believe that?”

“Wow.” Peter nodded. “What’s his name?”

“Kevin.” You answered. “We’ve been texting all day. He’s making a list of his favorite movies and I’m making him a list of mine. God, I love when you meet someone and instantly click.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Peter said a little flatly. He didn’t love that you’d been texting this guy all day, especially when Peter didn’t know him. What he loved even less was how much you had in common with this guy.

As the weeks went on, Peter heard at least one mention of Kevin a day. Whether he was sending you a funny Tik tok or asking you for movie recommendations, Peter always saw his name on your phone. He checked out Kevin’s Instagram to see what he was like and saw a picture of the two of you with your arms around each other. Whenever Peter checked Kevin’s story on Snapchat, you were usually in in the background. It bothered Peter more than he liked, but he didn’t want to tell you he was jealous. He didn’t want you to think that he didn’t trust you, but he wasn’t so sure he trusted Kevin.

“Whats so funny?” Peter asked when he heard a giggle escape your lips. You were sitting on Peter’s bed, staring at your phone while he did his homework.

“It’s Kevin.” You chuckled as you typed something back. “I thought everyone in that class was uptight but he’s hilarious. I can’t believe we never spoke before this month. He’s like the funniest guy I know.”

“Wow. Good for you.” He smiled softly. “I’m glad you made a friend.”

“Me too. But enough about him. I want to hear about my lovely boyfriend.” You left your phone on the bed and went to Peter’s desk to sit with him. You sat down on his lap and wrapped your arms around him, bringing him into a long kiss.

“Your lovely boyfriend is very stressed about his annotated bibliography.” Peter sighed when he pulled away.

“Aw.” You cooed. “What’s it on?”

“Residential segregation in urban areas.” Peter told you.

“Hm.” You frowned. “I don’t know too much about that. But I could tell you five films that deal with it.”

“I’d love to hear them.” Peter smiled before leaning in for another kiss. Your kiss was cut short by the sound of your phone ringing.

“Hang on.” You sighed. “Sorry.”

“Who is it?” Peter asked as you went back to your phone.

“Kevin.” You answered before picking up. Peter frowned, feeling insecurity settle in his tummy.

“Hello?” You laughed softly. “I’m good. Yeah. It was Moonrise Kingdom. You’re welcome. Bye.”

“Sorry.” You said as you tossed your phone back on the bed. “He couldn’t remember the title of the movie I told him to watch.”

“Hm.” Peter nodded, not trusting himself to say anything helpful.

“Is everything okay?” You asked as you sat back down on his lap.

“Yeah.” He lied. “Everything is okay.”

A few weeks later, Peter was walking down the hallway when he spotted Kevin by the water fountain. He was too busy talking to some boy to notice Peter. Peter was thankful for this, since he was supposed to meet you between classes and he didn’t want Kevin to interrupt.

“There you are.” You came down the hallway and threw your arms around Peter. “Hi baby.”

“Hey princess.” Peter smiled before pulling you into a long kiss. He opened his eyes and flicked them up to see if Kevin was still there, which he was. He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss out of spite.

“Woah.” You pulled away breathlessly after a minute. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just wanted to show you some love. Since I love you so much.” Peter shrugged before kissing you again.

“I love you too.” You giggled between kisses.

“Do you want to come over after class today? I have a lot more love I want to show you.” Peter mumbled against your lips. He flicked his eyes to the side again and this time, Kevin was watching. He was too far to hear your conversation, but he could clearly see how affectionate Peter was.

“Yes, please.” You bit your bottom lip. “But I can’t come until after four. Kiwi and I-“

“Kiwi?” Peter wondered.

“Sorry, Kevin. Kiwi is my nickname for him.” You explained as Peter’s smile fell. “He and I were gonna get coffee after class.”

“Alone?” Peter pulled away a little with a pour. “Like on a date?”

“No.” You laughed. “Peter, Kevin is-“

“Can we not talk about Kevin?” He cut you off and pulled you back into his arms. “I want to hear about your day. How was class?”

“Good. It’s just so long. I can’t sit through it all without zoning out. That’s usually when I start thinking about you.” You smirked as you rubbed your nose against his.

“Thinking about little old me?” Peter touched a hand to his chest before pulled you into another kiss. He slid his hand down your body and gave your butt a squeeze, making sure he was extra affectionate in front of Kevin.

“Whew.” You pulled away in surprises for laughed. “We are in the hallway, mister. Save that for later.”

“I will.” He smacked your butt for good measure. “I’ll see you after four.”

“See you.” You blew him a kiss as you walked away. Peter smirked and leaned against the wall, pleased with himself for his little public display of affection.

Since Kevin was so very fond of posting you on his social media, Peter made sure to put a picture of you sleeping on his story. He added the caption “when she sleeps in your bed more than her own” just so everyone knew what was going on.

A few weeks later, you went to Peter’s dorm after a long day of classes in need of some cuddles. You opened Peter’s door and found him laying in his bed.

“Hey, princess.” He sat up a little in his bed. “You had a midterm today right?”

“Yeah. I didn’t do too well though.” You sighed. “There was an essay at the end that I didn’t really know how to answer.”

“I’m sorry.” He frowned and opened his arms to you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” You mumbled as you climbed into his arms. “I was kinda bummed but then Kevin and I went to Dunkin so I feel better. It’s just a test.”

Peter quieted down when you mentioned Kevin, feeling that familiar sense of jealousy in his stomach.

“Is something wrong?” You noticed his mood change.

“Why are you and Kevin always together?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “We just like spending time together.”

“Do you hang out in a group or just you and him?” Peter wondered.

“Usually just me and him.” You told him, which is exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Peter pouted and tilted his chin up, not wanting you to see that he was upset.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting up a little to stroke his face.

“He knows everything about movies. He’s the funniest guy you know.” Peter repeated the words you used. “And he takes up all your time. I don’t know, I’m a little worried.”

“About what? Kevin is just a friend.”

“But is that all he wants to be?” Peter asked. “Think about it, princess. You have the same passion as him and you’re drop dead gorgeous. There’s no way he’s not into you.”

“I promise you, he’s not.” You chuckled softly. “And he knows I have a boyfriend. I talk about you all the time.”

“You talk about him all the time too.” Peter said quietly.

“Hey, Petey.” You rolled on top of him and cupped his face. “You have no reason to be worried or jealous. I love you, okay? No one could take your place.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, satisfied with what you said. “I believe you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you told me how you were feeling.” You smiled softly. “I’ll stop talking about him as much if it bothers you.”

You kept your word and stopped bringing Kevin up, which Peter appreciated. What Peter didn’t know was he’d still have you watch you laugh at Kevin’s texts and see the two of you in the hallways.

A few weeks later, Peter surprised you outside of your economics class during his free period.

“Hey, princess.” He came up behind you and pulled you into a hug.

“Peter!” You lit up. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Really?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Yeah. Kevin is about to get out of class. You can finally meet him.” You told him, and his smile fell. Of course your excitement was Kevin related. Before Peter could respond, Kevin walked out of a classroom and went up to you.

“There’s my girl.” He squeezed your hand. “How was economics?”

“Boring but he wore those pants again.” You laughed a little. Kevin seemed to know exactly what you were talking about, but Peter didn't.

“Did you take a picture?” Kevin’s eyes widened in excitement.

“I couldn’t.” You whined. “He was always facing us.”

“Ugh. Next time.” Kevin laughed. Peter looked between the two of you and cleared his throat, signaling that he was there.

“Oh, right.” You giggled. “Kevin, this is Peter.”

“It’s about time.” Kevin reached out to shake Peter’s hand. “Y/n told me all about you, Mr. Biochemistry and engineering major.”

“Nice to meet you.” Peter said stiffly as he draped an arm over your shoulders.

“You too.” Kevin smiled. “I gotta say, you’re the luckiest man in the world to be dating Y/n. I’m ready to marry her and I’ve only known her two months.”

“Yeah, well.” Peter smiled tightly and pulled you closer. “She’s taken.”

“I know.” Kevin sighed wistfully. “She never lets me forget it.”

“Haha.” Peter faked a laugh and hugged you even tighter. “I won’t either.”

“Aw.” Kevin smiled at the two of you. “Well, I wish I could stay but I have class in five minutes. It was great to meet you, Peter. We should all hang out soon.”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “Sure.”

“Bye Kiwi.” You called after him once he w no as walked away. You turned to Peter to see his reaction and noticed the displeased look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Did he seriously just say he wanted to marry you? In front of me?” Peter asked angrily.

“He was kidding.” You assured him. “He would never marry me.”

“He didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time we were talking.” He grumbled.

“Hey.” You put a hand on Peter’s chest to calm him down. “You have nothing to worry about. Kevin is harmless. He likes me as a friend. He would never see me as something more.”

“I don’t know, princess.” Peter sighed and put his hand over yours. “He seems to really like you. I don’t think I’m comfortable with you guys hanging out alone all the time.”

“I understand what you’re saying.” You nodded. “But I promise, I wouldn’t be hanging out with this guy if I had any impression that he liked me.”

“Maybe he’s just good at hiding it around you.” Peter shrugged.

“He and I were gonna watch Eternal Sunshine this Friday. Would it make you feel better if you came too?” You suggested. “I’ve been meaning to show you that movie anyway.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, feeling a little better. His frown didn’t let up, so you pinched his cheek.

“I love you.” You teased him.

“I love you too.” He broke into a smile finally.

Come Friday, you, Peter and Kevin were sitting in your dorm in front of a white sheet. Peter and Kevin sat in awkward silence as you fumbled with the projector.

“Okay, I think I got it.” You said finally, and the image appeared on the white sheet. You went to sit between Kevin and Peter, but Peter had other plans.

“You can sit with me, princess. Right here.” Peter loudly patted his lap. You laughed a little and took a seat between his legs, letting him pull you into his body. He wrapped his arms securely around your waist and pressed loud kisses to your cheek.

“You guys are so cute.” Kevin commented as he grabbed some popcorn.

“Thanks.” Peter said through an evil smile. He kissed your cheek again and snuggled you closer.

As the movie went on, Peter became progressively more affectionate. Usually you wouldn’t mind, but you didn’t want to make Kevin uncomfortable.

“Baby, not now.” You whispered to Peter as he kissed your neck. He had already left a hickey right where Kevin could see it.

“Sorry. I just can’t resist you.” Peter whispered back. Instead of kissing you, he slid his hands up your shirt and cupped your boobs. You craned your neck to raise an eyebrow at him, but he played dumb.

“What?” He asked innocently. “My hands were cold.”

“Sure.” You chuckled and let him keep his hands there the rest of the movie.

The following week, Peter walked through the halls feeling better about the whole Kevin situation. You spent the weekend in Peter’s dorm, only ever leaving for the bathroom or food. Peter made sure he posted pictures of you together throughout the day for Kevin to see. He could tell his jealousy was getting a little out of control, but he couldn’t help it. As long as Kevin was around, he had to keep his guard up.

Peter spotted your backpack in the crowded hallway and began to make his way to you. You usually walked back to the dorms together on Mondays since your classes ended at the same time. Peter stopped walking when he saw Kevin come out of a classroom and go over to you. He kept his back against the wall as he watched you and Kevin talk, feeling insecure once again. You were laughing loudly at whatever Kevin was saying, which made Peter roll his eyes.

“See you tomorrow, okay?” Kevin asked, brushing your cheek lightly with his thumb. You smiled excitedly and put your hand over his to keep it in place. Peter felt a white hot jealousy shot through his body when he saw this, a jealousy that quickly turned or anger. It was made even worse when Kevin pulled you into a hug. Peter had seen enough at that point and walked over to you and Kevin with heavy footsteps.

“Hey.” Peter said, shooting daggers at Kevin as he put a protective hand on your shoulder.

“Hey Petey.” You smiled and leaned into him.

“Hey, Peter.” Kevin waved. “Your girlfriend is a saint, by the way. I would not have made it through this semester without her.”

“Aw.” You gushed. “Stop.”

“I wouldn’t have.” He insisted. “I wish I could stay but I better run. Austin is waiting for me.”

“Ooo la la.” You teased. “See you at rehearsal.”

“See you.” He waved goodbye to the both of you and Peter was finally able to let out the breath he’d been holding in.

“Are you ready to walk home?” You asked as you turned to Peter.

“What the hell was that?” Peter jumped in right away, surprising you with his tone.

“What do you mean?” You blinked in confusion.

“You and Kevin.” He said. “Why was he touching you like that? And why were you touching him back?”

“Kiwi was just-“

“Enough of this Kiwi shit.” Peter cut you off. “How are you going to tell me I have nothing to worry about and then let him touch and you like that?”

“He was only touching me because-“

“Because he likes you? Like I said he did?” Peter didn’t let you finish. “You guys are together all the time, you’re always talking about him, and now you’re openly affectionate right in front of me? If you’re going to cheat on me, you could be a little more subtle.”

“Cheat on you?” Your eyes widened. “I am not cheating on you. I thought we cleared this up.”

“I thought so too. But apparently not.” Peter snapped. “Apparently you and your new boyfriend just can’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Kevin is not my boyfriend. You are.” You said quietly. “But you’re really hurting my feelings, Peter. How could you accuse me of something like that?”

“How could I not? It’s not like you’re trying to hide it.” He scoffed. “If I wasn’t standing right there, he probably would have kissed you.”

“I can promise you he wouldn’t.” You said as you looked at the ground.

“I can’t believe you’re still denying it after what I saw.” Peter said, getting emotional now. “How can you throw away everything we had for a guy you just met?”

“I didn’t throw anything away.” You looked up with tears in your eyes. “You’re the one ruining things with this stupid fight. How many times do I have to tell you that there’s nothing going on between me and Kevin? And how could you accuse me of cheating? Do you really think that little of me?”

“Now that you’ve shown me who you really are, I do.” Peter shot back. You sucked in a sharp breath and took a step back from him.

“You can walk home yourself.” You said through tears. “I don’t want to talk to you ever again.”

“Fine by me.” Peter shrugged, but he was already starting to regret everything. Before he could apologize for making you cry, you walked away. He decided to give you some space instead of running after you right away. Instead, he walked in the opposite direction and began to wander around campus. And sure enough, he ran in to...

“Hey Peter.” Kevin greeted with a smile. “I thought you were walking home with Y/n?”

“She left without me.” Peter grumbled without looking up. Kevin was the very last person he wanted to talk to right now.

“Is everything okay?” Kevin asked when he noticed Peters angry demeanor.

“It’s not really any of your business.” Peter narrowed his eyes at him.

“Okay.” Kevin backed off. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Kevin.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Ugh. I hate the name Kevin.” Kevin tried to lighten the mood.

“Why?” Peter took the bait.

“It’s so masculine.” He grimaced. “It’s like, ‘hey, I’m Kevin. Wanna hear how loud my car engine is?’ Please. It’s so not me.”

“Is that why Y/n calls you Kiwi?” Peter asked, genuinely curious.

“Yeah.” Kevin smiled. “Cause I’m little fruity.”

“Fruity?” Peter wondered.

“Sorry.” Kevin chuckled. “I mean gay.”

“You’re gay?” Peter’s eyes widened. “Like, gay gay?”

“Yes sir.” Kevin replied. “But I haven’t come out to everyone yet. Only Y/n and my boyfriend Austin know. I asked them not to tell anyone. I don’t need anything else for people to target me for, you know?”

Peter stared at him for a moment, feeling a panic run down his spine. He had just accused you of cheating on him with your gay best friend.

“I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend.” Peter mumbled, feeling himself begin to sweat. You endured all of Peter’s accusations to keep Kevin’s secret, and now Peter felt awful.

“Damn.” Kevin said. “Does Y/n not talk about me? I tell Austin all about her.”

“She tries. I never let her.” Peter said sadly, angry with himself now.

“Why not?”

“Because I was stupid and super jealous.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face. “I was jealous even when she told me not to be.”

“Jealous of me?” Kevin laughed. “I don’t even like girls.”

“I didn’t know that. All I knew was you could talk to her about films and movies and I couldn’t.” Peter shrugged sadly. “I kept thinking you could make her happier than I could, so I got jealous. I’m such an idiot. You know I yelled at her today because of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you touching her face in the hallway and nearly lost my mind. I completely took it out on her.” Peter stressfully tugged at his hair.

“Oh, that.” Kevin laughed. “I’m the male lead in Y/n’s film project. My character is straight and I was having trouble portraying an accurate straight guy. She was teaching me some mannerisms that you do so I could use them on my scene partner. That thing in the hallway was just me joking around and showing her that I had been practicing. I never would’ve gotten through this theater class without her.”

“Oh my God.” Peter covered his mouth with his hand. “I made her cry over that? I thought you guys were sleeping together or something. I didn’t know she was helping you.”

“Yikes.” Kevin grimaced. “That’s not really fair. It’s not like she was the one touching me. Why would you yell at her over that?”

“Because I’m an idiot.” Peter said lamely. “And I don’t listen. She told me so many times that I had nothing to worry about. She said you didn’t like her like that, said you’d never marry her. She told me you weren’t a threat in every possible way without telling me your secret. And I just didn’t listen.”

“Peter, Y/n loves you. She would never cheat on you.” Kevin said like it was obvious. “She deserves a better apology than “I’m an idiot.” If my boyfriend tried to apologize to me like that, I’d tell him he was right and dump him.”

“Do you think she’s gonna break up with me?” Peter worried.

“Well how did you end things with her?”

“She told me to never speak to her again and walked away crying.” Peter recanted.

“Oh.” Kevin said quietly.

“What?” Petwr panicked.

“The good news is she’s not gonna break up with you.” Kevin began. “The bad news is she already did.”

“What?” Peter worried. “That was her breaking up with me?”

Before Kevin could answer, his phone buzzed with a text from you. He looked at it and cringed before looking at Peter.

“Oh no.” Peter gulped. “What did she say?”

“She said she just broke up with you and needs a coffee pick me up.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded.

“She also says she hates you and you broke her heart.” Kevin continued.

“Fuck.” Peter sighed. “I really messed up.”

“Yes. You did.” Kevin nodded. “And I’m sorry, but have no sympathy for you. She told you I wasn’t a threat and she was right. We both know Y/n, and you know her even better than I do. So we both know she’s not a cheater or a liar. She’s just a film nerd who likes to talk about her passions.”

“I know. I really fucked up.” Peter mumbled. “You’re her best friend. How can I win her back?”

“Why would you ask a gay man how to win a girl back?” Kevin asked. “Fuck if I know.”

“Right. Sorry.” Peter stammered. “Did she say anything else?”

“She said she’s meeting me at Dunkin in five minutes. And then she wants to watch Pride and Prejudice. Jesus, Peter. Pride and Prejudice? How bad did you hurt her?”

“Really bad.” He feared.

“Well now I have to go clean up your mess.” Kevin sighed. “And just so you know, I will be telling her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else. It’s always been my dream to say that.”

“Please don’t do that.” Peter begged. “Don’t tell her to sleep with anyone else.”

“If you’re under him, you ain’t getting over him.” Kevin shrugged as he sent you a text.

“What?” Peter asked. “What does that mean?”

“I’m sorry, Peter. But I’m on Y/n’s side with this. I can’t help you anymore. So don’t show up, don’t come out, and definitely don’t start caring about her now.”

“Are you speaking in riddles?” Peter whispered.

“Walk away.” Kevin nodded. “You know how.”

With that, Kevin walked away and left Peter all alone.

Peter trudged back to his dorm alone and sent you a long apology. You texted him back a day later and told him you needed some space, which he understood. He let two weeks go by before knocking on your door.

“What are you doing here?” You asked when you opened the door for Peter. He could tell you had been crying and could hear a movie playing in the background.

“Apologizing to my beautiful girlfriend who’s feelings I hurt.” He said sheepishly as he held out the ice coffee he had brought you.

“I’m not your girlfriend.” You stated, eyes flicking to the ice coffee. Peter held it out further and you took it from him, grabbing a reusable straw off your dresser.

“Yes.” Peter agreed. “But for the small price of letting me in the door, you could be again.”

“Fuck off.” You scoffed and tried to close the door.

“Here me out.”Peter pleaded and stuck his foot in the door. “What if I fuck in so we can talk? Please? I really miss you.”

“I don’t miss you.” You said without missing a beat.

“You posted the lyrics to All Too Well three times this week. You have to miss me a little.” Peter reasoned.

“What are you doing here?” You sighed, knowing he was right. “I thought I told you not to talk to me.”

Peter frowned and looked around for anyone who might be listening.

“I didn’t know Kevin was gay.” He said quietly.

“He isn’t out yet.”

“I know.” Peter nodded. “He told me.”

“You talked to him?” You raised an eyebrow at him as you sipped your drink.

“Yeah. He’s a cool guy.” Peter smiled shyly. “I see why you hang out with him.”

“Yeah. He is a cool guy. He trusts me when I ask him to and doesn’t misplace his anger.” You said through a tight smile as you walked into your room. Peter followed and shut the door behind him. He saw that you were playing Little Women on your projector and had tissues strewn all around the room.

“I fucked up.” He told you. “I never should have accused you of cheating. And I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“How many times did I tell you Kevin wasn’t a threat?” You set down your drink and folded your arms. “You said he made you uncomfortable so I stopped talking about him. You said you didn’t want us to be alone all the time so I invited you to hang out with us. I did everything I could to make you feel more comfortable without outing my friend and it still wasn’t enough for you. You just don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you.” He promised. “But I was insecure and jealous, even when you told me I didn’t need to be. I couldn’t help but feel like he could be a better boyfriend to you. He can talk to you about your passions in ways I can’t. That’s why I got so mad. I felt like I couldn’t measure up.”

“No one asked you to.” You shrugged. “I never expected you to know random shit about movies. It’s just something I like. I was happy with you just the way you were.”

“And I was too blinded by my jealousy to see that.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. You told me to trust you and I didn’t. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“I don’t care.” You told him. “I just want you to leave.”

“I’m scared that if I walk out, we won’t fix things.” Peter said softly.

“Good.” You said flatly. “So get out.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but realized he had nothing productive to add. His eyes shifted to your projector, where Little Women was still playing.

“Did you know the costume designer made the same article of clothing for Saoirse and Timothee so it could look like Jo and Laurie shared clothing?” Peter asked quietly.

“Yeah, I did know that.” You nodded. “How did you?”

“I’ve been doing research on films you like to impress you.” Peter admitted. “Did you know they used Angelina Jolie’s real daughter in Maleficent because all the other children were scared?”

“I knew that too.” You cracked the faintest hint of a smile.

“Well did you know that Psycho-“

“Was the first film to feature a toilet flushing.” You finished his sentence for him. “Yeah, I know. You googling top ten crazy movie facts isn’t gonna fix this.”

“I know.” Peter agreed. “But I hope it shows you how badly I want to try.”

You stared at Peter for a long time, unsure of what to do. You chewed your bottom lip as you mulled over your options. You knew he was sorry, but you didn’t know if you were ready to forgive him.

“You asked me to leave. I’ll listen this time. I’m sorry about everything.” Peter gave you a soft smile before turning to leave.

“Peter, wait.” You said, and he internally rejoiced.

“Yes?” He asked innocently as he turned back around.

“I made more popcorn than I can eat.” You said timidly. “You should stay and finish the movie with me so I don’t waste it.”

“Okay.” Peter smiled in relief and took a seat on your floor. You sat down next to him and handed him the bowl of popcorn.

“But just so the popcorn doesn’t go to waste.” You reminded him and he took a handful.

“No, of course.” Peter nodded, not wanting to push his luck. You stared at him for a minute as he fought back a smile, losing his battle in no time. You rolled your eyes at him before resting your head on his shoulder.

“I’m only doing this for neck support.” You told him.

“I believe you.” He answered as he wrapped an arm around you. “I love you, princess.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You smiled a little as you put some popcorn in your mouth. “Whatever.”

Tag list 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort @foreverxholland @lavender-writer @michaela072796 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258 @maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @theincredibledeadlyviper  @thestylestour  @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours @satanswitchings @okkulta @parkerlovebot @jungkxxkk @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @whatthefuckimbisexual @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy @sunshine-spencie @f-hollands @ilovefrogs1000 @itstaskeen @itmatteredatthetime @wrendermeuseless @amazinggracy @slutforsebstan @iprobablyshipit91 @magicalxdaydream @whereismytelephone @theonly1outof-a-billion @leilanixx @namoreno @bi-lmg @dracoswhore007 @tomhollandloml @avengers-hamiltrash @sunshinepeterparkr @gh0stgurl @so-very-asleep @veryholland @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @white-wolf1940 @spideycheles @w0nderzwndaya @fanficaddict13125 @pinklxmonade @thebestqueenoftheworld @nowayhomeparker @willowestelle @imobsessedzs @spideyspeaches @bookfrog242 @mathletemadison​ @hihiweezing​

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker angst #peter parker jealous #Peter Parker x artsy!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #spiderman

[oh-for-fic-sake]

What will daddy Henry do if his little is sad because someone took something valuable from her?

So i wanst sure what to base this on entirely, so I'm going to go with something I went through over the last few weeks. I had a little bit of anon hate, which I deleted but the words stuck with me making me second guess everything i was working on and the confidence i had in my writing was taken away. so this is like a shameful self indulgent fantasy that im going to read to myself when ever im down.

Warnings: Pretty Personal For Me, Angsty, Fluffy, Self Doubt, Happy Ending, DDLG, Long!!

Tagging: @viking-raider @isitmine @tinabean37 @loserrlauraa  @msblkfire84 @henrythickcavill @plainbrunettelbl @dummiesshort @cynic-spirit @pandaxnienke  @two-unbeatable-beaters @libbymouse @wolfieash @eldarwen333 @princesssterek @mom2000aggie @blackestpinkworld 

(not sure who to tag in headcannons? these are the ones on my everything taglist)

Henry watched quietly with a frown as you sat down in the living room, eyes cast down at the tablet in front of you shoulders slumped.

"poppet what's wrong love?"

"n-nothing da-addy" you said with a small stutter

Henry shifted on his feet looking at you critically before coming over to you.

"nothing? So your sitting here almost in tears over nothing" he stated sceptically rounding the sofa sitting next to you.

"I'm not cryin" you sniffled trying to bite your lower lip to stop it from wobbling.

"not yet, but close enough poppet, hand it over" he said holding out his hand waiting for the tablet.

You whined not wanting to hand it to him at first but after a mini battle of wills you placed the colourful tablet in his hand.

Your head was cast down and you rubbed your eyes trying to catch the tears before they were noticeable.

"okay then, so this is your new story?" he asked scrolling through the page not reading it all but scanning the words, it was well written like always.

At the beginning of the pandemic he suggested you started a blog, and you had. A writing blog all full of fanfictions of... Him.

He didn't mind he actually love you doing something constructive, it kept you happy and busy which helped him because there wasn't many free days even in lockdown. He was working out, reading scripts or rearranging covid tests and travel.

Plus knew these smut blogs existed, even lurked on a few.

"y-yeah" you mumbled leaning on him hugging his arm scanning the page as he scrolled, you knew he wasn't reading everything maybe every few lines

"sooo what's the problem?" he said not finding an issue with the writing.

"i... I cant post it" you muttered looking down avoiding his gaze

"why?" he asked frowning not liking the defeated tone you had.

"j-just because..."

"ah I see, you have lost your confidence" he said quickly figuring out the problem, the downside to writing was everything was personal preference so tiny comments could knock your confidence.

In a way it was like his work, you put your heart and soul into it and then people don't like it? It was always a bummer. But he was used to it, you were not.

You nodded to him it was true you'd lost your confidence, you hadn't wrote for a while.

You couldn't seem to find the words to fit together anymore.

You felt silly, they were just a few mean comments, words from a nasty troll who didn't have anything better to do but it hurt, you poured your heart into every chapter and then for people to rip it to shreds? It stung.

"y-yes I... They didn't like it" you hummed fiddling with your fingers, drawing deep breaths trying not to cry

"and so what?" he said shrugging making you snap your gaze to him.

"wha?"

"it doesn't matter love, so a few people didn't like it, lots of people do, I love your stories"

"you have to your my daddy"

Henry huffed and shook his head at you ruffling your hair pressing a kiss to your head amused that you thought that's the only reason he liked your writing.

"don't stop writing just because of a few mean people nugget, it takes a lot of skill to write and a lot of bravery to share it. Your a brave talented little baby and I'm very proud of you"

He said cooing as that seemed to be the final push sending you over the edge making you burst out into tears.

He hugged you moving the tablet out of the way before pulling you to his lap, unbuttoning his shirt half way and squished you into his bare chest knowing you needed to feel him, not a shirt.

"shh its okay babygirl, your stories are wonderful, and you have fun writing them don't you baby?"

You nodded crying harder trying to get the words out but you just couldn't instead whining incoherently into him.

"and you enjoy making the little banners? And collect all your photos and gifs?"

"y-yeah but they di-dn't like it last time!"

"they don't have to like everything you do sweety"

"but I don't wana upset them!"

"did you do the warnings?" he asked knowing all about the do's and don'ts of posting your erotica.

You nodded whining you always did warnings on stuff to be safe.

"and make the little cut thingy you were telling me about?" again you nodded at him

"so your telling me they read the warnings, clicked to see it and then were mean?" you sniffled biting your lip trying to calm down but nodded to him humming quietly.

"well then it sounds to me like they were going out of their way, looking for someone to pick on" he said slowly rocking you slightly.

You fell quiet resting your head on his chest as he rubbed your back and patted your bottom soothing you.

"but what if they wasn't? What if my stories are bad- and encourage bad stuff!" you cried tucking yourself into him tighter.

"no-no you repeat after me, fiction is fiction" he said pulling you back wiping your tears waiting for you to say it out loud.

"fic-tion is f-fiction" you repeated

"I did everything I could to warn people"

"I-I did everyth-ing I could to w-warn people" he smiled at you as you drew a huge breath calming yourself down.

"and they are jealous because I'm an adorable, smart, funny kind and caring babygirl who has the cutest little peach butt in the world~" he said smirking at you from above holding you tightly to him pressing a kiss to your head.

"and they- daddy! Noo! I can't say that~" you gasped flushing as you realised what he had said

"oh yes you can because its the truth now come here let daddy bite that peach~" he growled playfully snapping his jaws at you.

"ah-no!" you screeched giggleing as he began tickling you all over wrestling you playfully trying to lean over and bite your but through your shorts.

He landed two solid bite's on your bottom before pulling back. Even though he had cheered you up he could see you were still doubting yourself.

Henry cast a glance to the tablet and smirked forming a plan that might just get you back on track. He was not going to let anyone steal your sparkle.

"come on you you've spent enough time writing go play in the garden with Kal"

Once you left henry got to work swiping up the tablet and going on your one drive seeing the meticulously organized notebooks, recognising a few by name.

A few weeks later Henry came in to the living room with a medium size box and plopped it on the sofa next to you.

"here we go nugget!" he said placing the gift next to you, they couldn't have come quickly enough, he had noticed you hadn't been writing at all, which upset him because he knew how much you loved it.

"what's that daddy?" you asked peering over the box not expecting any gifts.

"why don't you open it and find out?" he said sitting the other side of the box handing you a pair of scissors to slice the tape.

You moved slowly cutting it open and pulled the box open then froze.

"d-daddy? What thats my..." you trailed off pulling out the hard back books your banner on the front cover.

"your stories? Yes poppet, I realised that you were putting so much work into these things but could loose them, they are soo good that daddy wanted to read them over and over and now we can!" he said pleased with himself as you sat there shocked looking at the small collection of a5 books.

"but their- i dont..." you said happy but completely shocked, flicking through the pages, there were even a few comments in the margins from henry pointing out the pits he liked making your heart swell with pride.

Henry moved to stand behind you pressing a kiss to your hair.

"They are brilliant! So good I'm so proud of every thing you have achieved and I want them on our book shelf, in the living room" he said making you tear up.

"Really? You... You think their that good?" you whined eyes blurring with tears as you hugged the first book to your chest.

"absolutely poppet now go on, you do the honours~" he said pressing your shoulder urging you to go to the cube bookshelf.

You tiptoed over to it and slowly pulled out each little custom book with your banner on the front.

You sat down placing each one delicately on the shelf the five books each lining up with one another half filling the empty cube shelf.

"oh no baby look? The shelf isn't full is it? You know what that means" he said standing looking

"I-I've gotta write?" you asked sniffling weeping softly but this time because you were happy.

"exactly! You need to fill the whole shelf, so you keep up the good work and tell daddy when you finish your next story and we can keep adding to it!" he said cheerfully walking over handing you the tablet.

You smiled to yourself and looked to the books, your books- actual real life books on a shelf!

You grinned throwing yourself at him latching onto him feeling your confidence come back just from seeing how much you had done.

Suddenly the hate didn't matter, your daddy like them enough to make them into real life books! And even annotated them himself?

And if your writing was good enough for your daddy then it was good enough for you.

"daddy, can I have my screen time now, I want to write!!" you said jumping up and down on the spot excited to start your next chapter.

Henry grinned nodding deciding you can have as much screen time today as you wanted as long as it meant you wasn't giving up your new hobby.

#oh-for-fic-sake ask #oh for fic sake ask #oh for fic sake headcannon #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x little!reader

[pseudofaux]

Howdy gorgeous 🥺

I was wondering if you could do a thigh riding or c*ck warming with Lucien? Totally fine if you can't, I understand <3

Hey, pretty! 🥰😚 OHOHOHOHOOOO, YES!

I went with warming because he just! needs some warmth!!!

(Requests are open until May 1, dear reader, if you’d like to make one!)

It had been a very long day, so long it was hard to believe the clock which insisted it was midafternoon and no later. He had endured the worst kind of morning: meetings with useless faculty and undertrained assistants, followed by a lunch so unappetizing that when he entered the hall for his midday lecture his stomach audibly rumbled. He kept further betrayals of his condition at bay by pure force of will and sips of water, and planned to eat a protein bar when he was back in his office.

But there had been no more bars in his desk drawer. Damnation. It was only her unscheduled arrival with a boxed sandwich and a little container of fruit that saved him (and his assistants, from his temper). “I was just thinking of you, and wanted to make sure you were eating,” she said. And she sat herself down at the other side of his desk and primly ate a snack of her own while she looked over a file folder, then her tablet. He marveled at her the whole time.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly when he is done eating. “You are an angel.”

“You look like you’ve had a rough day,” she says, gentle as she always is when she must say something unpleasant. It is adorable, and the sandwich is already restoring him. Just being near her sets an undeniable buzz into the lowest layer of his skin.

“Not my best,” he confesses. “But your coming here has improved it considerably.” He enjoys the way she tucks her head down, pleased and shy about it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Oh, what a question. She’s looking at him with those brave, clear eyes now, so wide and trusting, and he is not sure he has it in him to resist. It’s been a difficult day. He’s already locked his office door, unwilling to have his time with her interrupted by anything he can’t ignore so easily as a knock. The only person he wants to let in is already here.

He makes a show of glancing at her eyes, then back down, as though he is ashamed of what he wants to say. She takes the bait with all her usual kindness. “What, what is it? What can I do?”

“Would you... no, we don’t have time. When do you need to get back to your office? Thank you very much for coming,” he says, standing. She is already standing, too, her fine little eyebrows drawn down. She is the picture of consternation and it is very hard not to laugh. So very, very dear to him, she is.

She steps so quickly around his desk he is not sure her feet touch the carpet. “Don’t be like that,” she demands. “Tell me! I love you.”

He’ll never understand but forever appreciate her free use of that phrase. It softens him and the way he melts for her is real. Planned, but real.

“I was thinking,” he is careful to confess and make it sound like a confession, “That it would be nice to do the rest of my work with you sitting in my lap.” He holds out his hands to say There, that’s it, that’s all.

She looks a bit surprised but she smiles and takes another step closer. “I can do that,” she tells him. “I brought my tablet to work on. I just need to make notes on some scripts. So long as I won’t be in your way...” She looks both ways as though someone is going to overhear and he has to bite his tongue, safely hidden by the placidity of his smile, to keep his joy at her stupid, adorable nature from being found out, “I can stay until it’s time to go home,” she finishes.

“And what do you want to do at home?” he asks, pleasantly enough but looking at her so directly she goes still, then squirms.

“Just the usual stuff,” she says softly. He loves to make her droop but can’t stand to watch it for long, so perhaps it’s only a second or two that he lets her stand there before he takes his own step toward her and pulls her into his arms.

“The usual stuff is very nice,” he assures her. His voice is a purr, and she squirms for a different reason, and his body is already responding. He could have made her a script of how this would go, but he doesn’t mind. He wonders if she would make any notes on it. Camera should face south to avoid window glare. Make sure he doesn’t say that like a bastard.

He walks backwards to his chair and pulls her with him, but sits down by himself and holds out a hand. She puts her hand in it and he can’t quite hold back his laugh, but he tries to smother it kissing the back of her hand. “Panties, please,” he says when knows he can talk without laughing.

“Oh! Umm. That kind of sitting in your lap. Yes!” She yanks her hand back and gracefully bends forward, so close he can feel the heat of her face on his knee. It feels like kingship. He catches her you should have just said under her breath and has to bite his tongue again, this time behind a less placid smile.

The fabric she hands him is palest lilac with white eyelet lace. He takes a deep, appreciative sniff and uses them to muffle his groan before he tucks the little piece into his shirt pocket and then unbuckles, then unzips. He doesn’t press her to watch as he extricates himself because he knows she is watching, knows the exact expression of interest on her face. She loves to watch, she’s a curious being. He likes that about her.

It’s quick work for him to be hard enough for what he wants. He takes her hand this time, to apologize for being a little mean earlier, and gently guides her to turn around. “Hold your skirt, my dear,” he tells her kindly, and when she does he tries to be just as kind when he picks her up by the waist and brings her to his lap.

He has excellent spatial awareness. He knows just where to put her, and he worked himself until there was a generous bead of precum on his tip. He did not plan for her to be so wet but is not shocked, only delighted. “You could have just said,” he whispers thickly as he pulls her down onto him. The glide is exquisite, her snug warmth unparalleled. She is perfect.

Her tiny squeak is perfect, too. He likes to imagine he pushed air out of her hidden spaces and it escaped through her mouth. That’s not how bodies work, but she’s very, very special.

He flexes himself inside her as she settles her skirt, then rolls the chair back to his desk and savors her breathing as he leans forward to retrieve her tablet and stylus so he can hand them to her. “Here you are,” he says, full of warmth even though she is the one who is full.

Her hands shake but she takes the tools, and works. He does, too, his desk is still littered with files and research documents he needs to annotate. Her fit around him is so warm it is comforting even as it is arousing, and he stays hard in her for the few hours they work in his office without even needing to move in her or tease her. He actually has a very productive afternoon, and from his glimpses at her work he is proud to see she is working, too.

(The devil is in him, though, so he gives her a fifteen minute warning when he is nearly done with his papers and when the clock strikes five he presses her onto his desk, goes to his feet without letting her off his lap, and then fucks into her magnificent warmth until she shudders, careful to be silent all along.)

#mlqc fanfiction #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc lucien #mr love xu mo #love and producer #pseu slings #dummys-fics

[izzyspussy]

I wonder --- what would be like if all of the losers had to write some sort of creative writing? Prose/poetry?? Not just Mr. Handsome.

I think Ben would be absolute garbage at prose lol. Poetry only! He can communicate via one-to-one word of mouth or pudding-thick metaphor and that's it.

Mike and Stan would both make great journos, with a particular talent for persuasive OpEds. Stan is one of those people who, as a student, was marked poorly on papers not for being technically wrong but because his content pissed the teacher off. They could never find any legitimate reason to mark off, so they always just claimed he didn't follow directions. He grew very quickly into the biggest pro at malicious compliance, and in college he absolutely took his papers to department heads with annotated rubric in hand to get his grade corrected lmfaooo. Mike actually has a few articles and a short story in local Derry publications. His style is friendly and intimate and he's very well-liked by readers, despite his lack of proliferation.

Bill, as we know, is... a great writer by some definitions. I think (like King) he has, uh, strengths and weaknesses. But he (unlike King imo) has a wonderful editor (or perhaps King just doesn't listen to his...?), and so his only real problem in a finished product is the endings, which can be argued as a matter of taste. He still writes tragedy after 2.0, but it's just not so much of, like, just a fucking bummer ykwim. He cannot write nonfiction or poetry to save his fucking life. He also tended to piss teachers off, but in his case he really didn't follow the directions (and usually was given a very lenient grade besides).

Bev would also tend very strongly toward poetry like Ben if given the option, mainly because she doesn't actually want to use words, so the more obfuscated she can make her meaning the better. She much prefers other mediums to writing. She makes an attempt once, feeling like she hasn't really wooed Ben in the way he wooed her, and leaves him a short poem about How He Makes Her Feel inside one of his work folders, handwritten on the back of a rebate receipt. it's-equality.gif

We can claim we also know Richie to be a good enough writer (he had to at least start out with his own stuff, and get noticed enough to end up with writers in the first place). I think he's not particularly gifted, but he's above mediocre. Typical successful white guy fare. However, he is incredibly versatile. His quality of writing is just-above-average across all types and genres. Stand-up, script, prose, poetry, lyrics; comedy, tragedy, romance, horror, nonfiction. He can do it all at the same general level (give or take some skill from practice or lack thereof). He also pissed teachers off, but because he maintained a perfect B average despite not paying attention or sometimes even showing up at all. He was a favorite of some though because his papers were always, at least to some degree, enjoyable to read and usually made at least one unique point.

Eddie has a gift with words, just not when he's trying to write lmao. If he wants or needs to have something written, he has to record himself talking it through first, and then transcribe it, and then laboriously edit it into whatever format it's supposed to be. He particularly struggles with making his words "professional" (he struggles with professionalism in general; his personality is simply way too big for All That Shit). He's never tried to write poetry, but he loves to read a limerick. He likes the snappiness.

#jack facts #i literally have to go thru and count them any time i write something that's meant to be about All the losers #seven is so many... #jack chats #kels #it #hc

[swaps55]

Eulogia

With MELE imminent, sharing a scene I wrote a long time ago, in which Kaidan Alenko mourns Ashley Williams after Virmire, and discovers he isn’t mourning alone. 

From here. 

~

The cargo bay was quiet when the elevator doors opened. Most of the crew had dispersed to the Citadel, leaving Kaidan mercifully alone in the cavernous space. Slowly he made his way towards the lockers, the scar tissue and healing sinews in his abdomen like a knot that someone had doused with gasoline and set on fire.

But still healing.  

(This is it. This is how I’m going to die.)

Kaidan exhaled.

If he closed his eyes he could still see the numbers in his HUD, always hovering right above zero, a perpetuating terminus never quite reached, never quite avoided.

When he reached the lockers he stopped, hand halfway to the one marked, Williams, A.

If he went by the book this should be Gladstone’s job. There was no reason it shouldn’t be Gladstone’s job.

(You know it’s the right choice.)

But it wasn’t Gladstone’s job.

The click of the locker door echoed loud enough that he flinched before drawing in a deep breath and pulling it all the way open. She hadn’t lied about her uniforms. Every shirt hung crisp and straight on its hanger, in sharp contrast to the chaotic pile of belongings tossed heedlessly on the ground below it. The pile was so impressive he was actually afraid to take anything out, for fear it would cause an outright avalanche. In spite of himself he shook his head and smiled a little.

“Somehow this is exactly what I expected from you,” he said under his breath. He heard a creak behind him and whipped his head around, heart rate thudding as though he expected to find her peering over his shoulder, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. A flush crept up the back of his neck.

Of course there was nothing. Ashley was dead.

His gripped the locker door until his knuckles whitened, leaned his forehead briefly against it. The metal felt cool and hard against his skin. He swallowed once. Twice.  

Eventually he straightened with a sigh, tugging at his uniform and rolling his shoulder, as though he could somehow shake Ashley off like working out a crick in his neck.  By the time his fingers brushed the cloth of her fatigues their subtle quiver had been swallowed up by the hard-earned discipline he’d practiced so diligently ever since Jump Zero.

(Kaidan Alenko. Always looking for the sure thing. Everything needs to be perfectly defined and spelled out for you, doesn’t it? Sometimes the unknown can be a little exciting, too.)

A static spark stung his finger as he emptied the hangers. He jerked his hand back, muttering, used to the burn, never the timing. Slowly he reached back in, painstakingly folding each shirt with precision he hadn’t employed since Basic.

(You find a wrinkle in my uniform and I’ll clean your pistol for a month.)

He made each crease razor sharp. Not a wrinkle to be found.

Once the clothing had been stored, he began taking apart the pile she had accumulated in her locker. Datapads with poetry. She liked Cummings and Yeats, Plath and Elizabeth Bishop. He remembered Joker saying something about Heinlein. Kaidan hadn’t intended to look through them, but shortly he found himself cross-legged on the floor, skimming through lines and verses. It was easy to tell her favorites – she’d annotated them heavily. Underlined phrases, personal reflections. In some cases she’d made notes that he didn’t understand, such as the one beside a line from a poem by Elizabeth Browning that simply read, Josh, and in parenthesis (the little shit).

She also had a copy of the Bible, which gave him pause. It wasn’t a datapad either but an actual book, pages dog-eared, corners bent and turned down, small makeshift bookmarks such as scraps of paper, paper clips, even a hair tie, sticking out at all angles. Like the datapads it was covered in notes, but all of these handwritten, in scripts of multiple hands. Some tiny and neat, others broad and flowing. Though he didn’t think he’d ever seen a sample of Ashley’s handwriting he immediately found one he thought had to be hers – small but hurried, with the occasional loopy flourish. It tended to start out neat, but quickly deteriorated when her hand couldn’t keep up with her thoughts, until it was nearly illegible.

The inside cover contained four handwritten paragraphs, each in a different script that he recognized from the subsequent pages. Each a note from parent to child, passing the heirloom on with messages of faith and love. Four generations of Williams, right there on one page.

Kaidan ran his fingers across the script, tracing the shallow grooves the pen made against the paper. General David Williams, of Shanxi infamy, bequeathing it to his son Matthew Williams, with a note.

Our faith is our legacy. We keep to it and carry on, no matter the cost. And when that task is difficult, remember those who’ve walked a harder road with lesser reward. We are blessed. I am blessed. Because I have you.

Serviceman Williams then wrote to his daughter, There’s a great wide universe out there waiting for you. I hope you explore it to the fullest. If you ever get lost, look here and see if you can’t find your way. Remember, kiddo. Ad aspera per astra.

Kaidan’s hands loosened, allowing the book’s spine to droop. A few pages whispered past his thumb. The hair tie bookmark fell out, ghosting to the floor without fanfare.

He snatched it up with a hot flash of guilt and held it aloft. What page did it come from? What place had he lost? How important had it been?

He didn’t know.

There was so much he didn’t know. So much he’d never learn.

He stared at the hair tie. Nothing more than a simple strip of dark blue elastic, still twined with a few strands of long, dark brown hair. She probably had a few dozen just like it. She’d worn two in her hair, at all times. One to pull it back into a ponytail, one to wrap around the thick twist of her bun and secure it in place. Usually she kept a third around her wrist, just for emergencies.

But they were never enough to hold back those few stubborn, errant strands that inevitably pulled free to waft about her face.

Moisture burned the corner of his eyes. His fingers curled around the small token, and he put his newly formed fist to his mouth to stifle the sound brewing in his throat. One choked sob got through before he swallowed the rest back, chest aching from the effort. He wicked a thumb across his eyes, hastily tucked the hair tie back between the pages and set the book aside.

This wasn’t his. The grief and memories trapped within the Bible’s covers were for her family, not for him.

But it shouldn’t be for anyone. It should be his things exposed to the harsh light of the cargo bay, meticulously sorted and stored, itemized on a manifest and marked for shipping back to Vancouver, care of Marc and Lora Alenko.

His throat tightened, hitching breath loud against the silent backdrop of the cargo bay. Not even the sound of the engines to provide some white noise.

Nothing like this would be found among his own belongings. He spoke to his folks a couple of times a year. Hadn’t been back to Vancouver in almost three. When he did it tended to be strained small talk and careful avoidance of anything to do with the mutated eezo nodes lurking under his skin. He’d actually thought running off to the Alliance might help. Follow in his father’s footstep. Give them something in common. That, of course, and he’d had nowhere else to go.

Would his own family have mourned him the way Ashley Williams’ would mourn her?

Would she?

Stop.

He raked a hand through his hair, fingers eventually coming to rest against his forehead. His head felt heavy. Too heavy to hold up, like a lead weight.

(They’re more important. We’re as good as dead up here anyway.)

He wondered who would inherit the Bible now that Ashley was gone. One of her sisters, maybe. Sisters who probably had yet to learn about what had happened down on Virmire.

(Kaidan, what the hell are you doing?)

(This bomb is going off! No matter what.)

No matter what. 0.00. He’d been ready for it. Ready for anything. Except Shepard’s hand, grabbing him by the arm.

Further down in the pile he found smaller items. Toiletries. A stuffed hanar, of all things. A bottle of liquor she must have picked up on Noveria.

(Just for the record, I’d look damn good in a dress.)

He swallowed against a lump in his throat, chest constricting. He could see her so clearly, standing at the railing in Port Hanshan, alternating between slouching and gripping the rail with her hands and leaning back on her heels.

(I’m not most people.)

No. She hadn’t been.

He found some packing material for the liquor. It was scotch, an asari brand, maybe purchased to share with Liara. Why it hadn’t been drunk he couldn’t say. Maybe she just ran out of time.  

Next was a holo album containing a few photos. People he didn’t recognize. A woman that looked too much like her not to be her mother. A young girl with a grin he recognized from those brief moments in the comm room. Before…

Stop!

Kaidan put the holo aside, then rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. Took a deep breath in. Let it out slow. Clamped his eyes shut. For a moment, everything shook. His hands. The air in his lungs. His skin felt hot, but prickled with gooseflesh.  

Breathe in. Breathe out.  

Eventually he opened his eyes. Went back to the pile. Finish it, marine. Don’t leave her hanging.

In all her possessions were scant, just what she’d been able to obtain or accumulate since they’d picked her up on Eden Prime. In fact, how the Bible and holo album had even managed to catch up with her struck him as a bit of a mystery.

But when he got to the bottom of the pile his hand froze, mouth dry as a shock of white hot cold strummed the length of his spine, numbness dulling his fingers until they felt thick and clumsy.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. After all, she’d died in her combat gear. Not her fatigues. Of course they would be here.

This time no amount of discipline could overcome his shaking hands as he picked one up and turned it over in his palms.

A neon green boot with matching laces, so bright they nearly glowed in the dim light of the cargo bay.

His gut clenched, chest so tight he couldn’t breathe, the edges of his vision blurring until something hot and wet spilled over onto his cheeks.

(Come on.)

(Whoa, where are we going? Anderson said to wait here.)

(Come on, LT. Think we’ll ever get to poke around here again? Live a little.)

Only he hadn’t. She’d been right there. Right there. And he hadn’t.  

(Tell me you haven’t thought about this.)

(Thinking’s not the same as doing. Maybe, once all this is behind us…)

He dropped the boot, back slamming against the lockers as he buried his head in his hands, the grief that he’d stored down deep in his chest ever since that timer reached zero breaching the damn in a flood of hot tears. He wept himself hollow, hot, swollen and aching, exhaustion creeping in until he felt it laying heavily over his skin, behind his eyes, in the pit of his stomach. Then he just sat silent, eyes red and heavy, arms resting on his knees.

A hulking shape appeared above him. Had he not felt so drained he might have cared more about discovering he hadn’t been alone after all. But when Wrex’s red, horny crest came into view he met the krogan’s fierce stare without shame. Whatever the krogan had to say, he was beyond giving a damn.

“She was a warrior worth mourning,” Wrex said.

Kaidan straightened his posture with mild surprise, but said nothing.

“Shepard chose his companions well. Even those I at first didn’t give him credit for.” He offered a scaly hand, which Kaidan accepted warily. Wrex hauled him effortlessly to his feet, and gave him a brusque nod.

“You are krantt.”

Kaidan wasn’t sure how to respond, but Wrex saved him the trouble by ambling away without further comment. The krogan had been nearly invisible since their return from Virmire. After finding him here Kaidan wasn’t even sure if he’d even left the ship.

He hadn’t considered the possibility that a krogan might mourn a human soldier. But Ashley…had that effect on people.

With a wipe of his eyes Kaidan began piling Ashley’s things into a crate. Once the locker was empty he sealed it, then closed the crate up as well and entered it into the ship’s inventory for the requisitions offer to offload and send to her family. By the time he finished, his grief had been replaced by grim, dogged resolve.

We’re coming for you, Saren. May God help you, you bastard.  

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #ashley williams #ashley x kaidan #not quite willenko #but almost #my fic #me legendary countdown #i'm so used to writing in present tense #that reading my own stuff in past tense is WEIRD

[felassan]

Dragon Age Library Edition Volume 1 annotations & additional pages/art compilation

Dragon Age Library Edition Volume 1 is a hardcover collection of some pre-existing Dragon Age comics that was released in 2014. It comprises of all issues of The Silent Grove, Those Who Speak and Until We Sleep. In places, it includes additional annotations/commentaries by the illustrators and authors, as well as a few additional pages with additional art. iirc these additional annotations and pages/art aren’t featured or available anywhere else (in the franchise I mean; other people have probably put them online at some point I’m sure).

From what I can see at least, Library Edition Volume 1 is no longer in print, and as such listings for it on resale sites etc are.. price-inflated & prohibitively expensive (~£100+, which I’m sure we can all agree is just not reasonable or accessible to most people). Due to this, I’ve compiled the additional annotations and pages here in this post. Thank you and credit to @artevalentinapaz, who kindly shared the material with me. This post has been made with their permission. The rest of this post is under a cut due to length.

These commentaries are in the context of The Silent Grove, Those Who Speak and Until We Sleep. If you notice any errors or annotations missing, or need anything clarified, just let me know. I think the annotations are in chronological order. In places I elaborated in square brackets to help explain which part of the comics an annotation is referring to. A note before you proceed further: some of the topics referenced in the annotations/additional pages are heavy or uncomfortable. The quotes here are word-for-word transcriptions of dev/creator commentaries, not my personal opinions or phrasings.

(Also, I do recommend always supporting comic creators by purchasing their comics legitimately. I own each issue of these comics having bought other editions of them all legitimately. The reason I put this post together is because this specific Library Edition volume has been discontinued and the consequently-inflated cost is so high, rendering the additional material inaccessible to most.)

-----

The Silent Grove annotations

Illustrator Chad Hardin: “I used to be an environmental artist for video games, so I built a 3-D model of Antiva City using the program Silo. Many of the buildings are simple cubes, but a few are more detailed. Overall, I spent the better part of a day building it, but I used it again and again throughout The Silent Grove to maintain continuity in the backgrounds.”

Script Writer Alexander Freed: “Even working with David Gaider, it took me several drafts to find Alistair’s voice. His narrative had to convey his humor and self-doubt from Dragon Age: Origins while suggesting a newfound weariness earned during his years on the throne. For readers familiar with the character, he needed to seem like a changed Alistair - but Alistair nonetheless.”

Chad Hardin: “If you read a lot of comics, you might wonder why the majority of the heroes wear skin-tight suits. Well, I can tell you: they are easy and quick to draw. In video games, you build the model once and then animate it, so details don’t slow you down. In comics, everything has to be rendered by hand. Varric and Alistair’s outfits were quite detailed. It took me a long time to get used to them, and even longer to memorize the designs until drawing them was second nature - Varric’s knee armor in particular! Oy vey!”

David Gaider: “One of my favorite scenes in the entire series [when Varric and Isabela are disarming traps and picking locks together while Alistair looks on]. Isabela and Varric, doing what rogues do. I had a suggestion for how to put it together, but Alex managed to make it fit and did a great job with it.”

Chad Hardin: “I never used to keep any of the artwork I created for comics. I would just hand the pages over to my agent to sell. This page [when Alistair, Varric and Isabela are in a tavern together, with hookah in the foreground] I kept for myself. I love the hookah-smoking elves in the second panel and Isabela’s face in the last panel. I rendered the first four chapters of The Silent Grove in grayscale using ink washes, gouache and Copie markers.”

David Gaider: “For a little while, Varric [in these comic stories] was supposed to be Zevran from Dragon Age: Origins, which would have made sense, Zevran being Antivan and all. I know that some fans would have loved to see him, but the dynamics of the group just didn’t work as well. Then a planned cameo later had to be cut for space. Ah well, Zev, another time.”

Alexander Freed: “Isabela at her most dangerous [climbing up the side of the cliff]. This scene - featuring a scantily clad, dripping-wet woman who tends to flaunt her sexuality - could easily have come across as exploitative, but Chad did a lovely drop portraying Isabela as purely focused and deadly.”

Chad Hardin: “Isabela rising out of the water and scaling the cliff with the knife in her mouth is one of my favorite parts of The Silent Grove. It is one of those moments where the writing really inspired the art. Hats off to Alex and David. This is another page I kept for myself.”

Colorist Michael Atiyeh: “This is one of my favorite Dragon Age pages. Chad is such an amazing artist; I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to work with him.”

Chad Hardin: “I love that this page [when a guard spots Varric and shouts ‘Intruder!’] made it in uncensored. So many times in comics, I draw something and some stuffy lawyers come out of the woodwork and tell me to tone it down. Dark Horse and BioWare always let me have fun, and this turned out to be one of my favorite pages with Varric and Bianca. Any guesses to which word he is mouthing in the second panel?”

Alexander Freed: “Note the simple decency of Alistair as he gives his cloak, without comment, to Isabela. For all his flaws, he’s genuinely kind at heart - a rare enough trait in Isabela’s world that I think it’s much of what she values in him.”

Chad Hardin: “I love the opening panel to this chapter [the opening panels to Chapter 3, when the team are on a ship at sea]. It’s the image I use on the homepage of my website. This page was a gift to my cousin Wendy, who loves pirates. Seascapes with sailing ships might be clichéd in fine art, but for me it was a first.”

David Gaider: “I wanted to have this story center on the group travelling to a Witch of the Wilds other than Flemeth, and originally I had set it somewhere else - until I remembered a Codex entry from Dragon: Age Origins that offhandedly mentioned a witch in the Tellari Swamps. Brilliant! It’d look like I planned it all along. I didn’t.”

Michael Atiyeh: “I love opportunities where I can show a change in the time of day as you move from panel to panel [when the ship heads towards and the team arrive in the Tellari Swamps]. I feel the palette of each panel is very distinct and beautiful.”

Alexander Freed: “Why did Alistair choose two people he barely knows to be his companions on this quest? We never make this explicit, but of course Varric is on the right track. Alistair wants to surround himself with people who don’t know him and won’t judge him, yet it’s Alistair’s idealism that Isabela and Varric work to preserve.”

Chad Hardin: “Another page where the writing inspired the art [when the group suddenly encounter a dragon]. I love the dragon bursting onto the scene and Isabela’s stare. Some writers will try to cram six or seven panels on a page like this and the pacing just doesn’t allow the artist to give each moment the right punch. Can you imagine if the first panel was crammed into a single square inch?”

Chad Hardin: “Yavana was one of the only characters that we did no preliminary sketches for. I don’t know how that happened, but thankfully it worked out.”

David Gaider: “I love how Yavana looks like a cross between Flemeth and Morrigan. Flemmigan? She’s totally Chad’s design, and it’s great. Typical for these witches, she never says things straight. In my mind, this Alistair is the one who did the Dark Ritual in Dragon Age: Origins - and I was half-tempted to have him lose his cool in this first scene [opening panels of Chapter 4] with her. Too early, though.”

Alexander Freed: “Through this whole sequence [the page when Varric aims Bianca at Yavana], Yavana is dropping cryptic hints and Alistair is refusing to play along. He’s met Flemeth and Morrigan - he knows Yavana won’t give him a straight answer, and he won’t give her the satisfaction of asking needlessly.”

Michael Atiyeh: “Sometimes it’s the little things on a page that spark my interest. Here [when the team navigate vines and mud to get to the temple], the sunset panel came out great and the mud looks really thick and gooey. It’s fun to focus on these details and make them stand out.”

Chad Hardin: “I hated drawing this scene [when Isabela gets kicked] where Isabela gets the boot to the face. Call me old fashioned, but I was raised to believe that only a coward would ever hit a woman (even a battle-hardened pirate adventurer). I draw at home, and my girls often watch me work in my studio. This was a page I didn’t want them watching me draw. I do like, though, that Isabela gets up, yanks the arrow out, and then soldiers on (and later extracts brutal revenge).”

Michael Atiyeh: “Poor Isabela. It seems I gave her more bruises and black eyes than any of the other characters. [when Isabela is yanking the arrow out]”

Chad Hardin: “It’s always interesting to go back and look at artwork because it reminds me of what was going on in my life at the time. I inked this page [opening panels of Chapter 5] at a ‘draw night’ session at an anime convention in St. George, Utah. I was one of the special guests, but I missed the first day because I was at my grandfather’s funeral in Las Vegas, Nevada. Seeing this page brought back those memories.”

David Gaider: “‘Bianca says hello.’ [quoting the panels being referenced] I adore Varric. I was tempted to have him narrate the entire series [in reference to these three comics], but then again I liked the idea of having each series center on one of the trio’s viewpoints. This book belongs to Alistair, but that doesn’t stop Varric from getting all the best lines.”

Alexander Freed: “Claudio, of course, is not a terribly sympathetic figure. But I wanted to emphasize that he takes this fight as personally as Isabela - he sincerely loved Luis and blames Isabela for the man’s death. I think it’s important to give every character, even the most loathsome, some dignity. [when Isabela and Claudio are fighting]”

Chad Hardin: “Payback! Here is where Isabela extracts her revenge on Claudio [when Isabela stabs Claudio]. I never enjoyed killing off a character so much. I particularly enjoyed putting the look of shock in his eyes. He had it coming. There is something satisfying about killing a ‘made man’.”

Chad Hardin: “Every now and then when drawing comics, I wish I could animate some panels and watch them as a cartoon. It would be great to see this sequence [when Yavana catches Claudio’s soul] in full motion as Yavana snatches Claudio’s soul, makes it reenter his corpse and then extracts information from him until he bursts into flame. It was a very Hellboy-ish moment. I enjoyed the movie that played in my mind while drawing this scene. Hope everyone liked the result.”

Chad Hardin: “As I mentioned on page 17, I rendered the first four chapters in grayscale, which made the black-and-white art look great, but had a neutralizing effect when it came to colors. By the time I drew chapter 4, I had seen the effect it was having and decided to stop using the grayscale so the colors would pop. When I saw this page [when Alistair says to Yavana ‘And we helped you find it’] in print, it confirmed to me that I made the right decision. I honestly feel this art was the best of The Silent Grove.”

Chad Hardin: “I practically painted these pages [when Yavana says ‘It is permitted. Tonight and only tonight’] in thumbnails hoping it would help me choose how to render them in ink. It is so hard trying to figure out how to get a full range of value out of just black and white. There are some artists and inkers that make this look easy. Mark Schultz comes to mind. Michael saved my bacon. Colorists really do so much work when it comes to rendering; this page came out awesome because of him.”

David Gaider: “Here we reveal the existence of Great Dragons (as opposed to High Dragons), and also that Yavana was the source of the return of dragons to Thedas after their departure for so many centuries. But why? There’s the rub, and not even Alistair can trust that she’s telling him the truth.”

David Gaider: “Here’s the controversial scene [Alistair killing Yavana]. I think some fans don’t like that Alistair did this, and have said they consider it out of character. I don’t. From his perspective, Flemeth and her daughters have been toying with the world for reasons that can’t be trusted. They dragged Maric away from his family, from him. One might think his judgement foolish, but considering what Alistair was capable of deciding even back in Dragon Age: Origins, it’s certainly not out of character.”

Chad Hardin: “[same scene as above] This was a controversial page, and there were a lot of people who thought it was out of character for Alistair to kill Yavana (I didn’t see it coming - I mean, you just don’t kill a Witch of the Wild), but here is the thing: this page is Alistair acting as a king. Yavana has been manipulating him, trying to play him like a pawn, and he just can’t allow that. There’s too much at stake, for himself and for his subjects.”

Alexander Freed: “The end? An end, at least [the trio walking off into the distance]. The series needed a note of closure while leading into Those Who Speak (which wouldn’t arrive until many months later). David tweaked the ending in the outline several times, and I did my best to balance resolving Alistair’s emotional journey without resolving the quest. It’s not as clean as I’d have liked, but fortunately, now it’s all in one volume...”

Those Who Speak annotations

Alexander Freed: “Capturing Isabela’s narrative voice was much easier for me than capturing Alistair’s - partly because I’d already written The Silent Grove, and partly because of my own writing proclivities. Rereading now, I wonder if I laid on the (mild) profanity a bit too thick. I’ll leave you to judge.”

David Gaider: “I like the additional detail Alex and Chad put in, letting us see more of Qarinus and more of Isabela’s crew. Alex wanted to give her crew more of a presence, and let her first mate have some face time, so they weren’t just parts of the scenery. Good call on his part.”

David Gaider: “I’m really fond of the formal getups Chad made for the party. Isabela’s actually comes from a concept we didn’t use from the cancelled Dragon Age 2 expansion, if I remember right. And Maevaris came from me asking for ‘someone who looks like Mae West’ - with the wonderful outfit all Chad’s doing.

Chad Hardin: “Maevaris. I love Mae. When David and Dragon Age art director Matthew Goldman spoke to me about designing Mae, they wanted her to be fully female with the exception of her biology. They told me to think ‘Mae West’. Well, when I think of Mae West, I think of her... womanly shape. So, drawing Maevaris was always walking a fine line between portraying Mae’s identity and her biology. The process endeared her to me.”

Michael Atiyeh: “Just like in The Silent Grove, we are introduced to another gentleman from Isabela’s past [when the team meet Lord Devon and Isabela threatens him]. As was the case with Claudio, he will meet his fate at her hands.”

Chad Hardin: “When I was drawing Titus, my kids asked me why I was drawing ‘angry Jesus’ or ‘evil Jesus’. I can’t remember which term they used exactly, but it made me chuckle. I was going for a mix of Rapustin and Joe Stalin, but ‘evil Jesus’ would do.”

David Gaider: “I’m not sure it’s apparent here [when Alistair says ‘I’d really rather not’], but Alistair was supposed to be using one of his Templar powers on Titus (that’s why Titus recognizes what he is on the next page) and disrupting his magic.”

Alexander Freed: “Isabela is witty and charming enough that it can be easy to forget that she’s not, in fact, a nice person. Even after finishing the outline, David was concerned about making her too unsympathetic - but I loved his approach in this series. The dark deeds Isabela commits - this murder included [Isabela killing Lord Devon] - are what make her guilt tangible and no easy matter to overcome.”

Alexander Freed: “I thought the notions of Isabela’s pride in her captaincy and dedication to her crew were some of the most interesting aspects of her character in David’s story. In scenes here [when Isabela is on her ship saying ‘Keep them focused and keep them sober’] and elsewhere, I did my best to emphasize their place at the core of Isabela’s world.”

Chad Hardin: “Most of the time I draw from imagination, but because of the complexity of this page [Qunari trying to board Isabela’s ship] I decided it would work better if I had photo reference. On this page are my nephews Jared (Varric) and Adam, my niece Melissa, my kids Erica, Tasey Michaela (Isabela) and Chad (Alistair), my friend’s daughter Amy, my wife Joy, and the neighborhood kids as Isabela’s pirate crew. (The crew member mooning the Qunari is out of my ol’ noodle.) I paid their modelling fee in pizza and root beer. Also, I had originally drawn cannons on Isabela’s ship, so if there are parts of it that look slightly wonky, chances are there was a cannon there.”

David Gaider: “Ever since the BioWare artists finally did a concept for female Qunari, I’ve been itching to include one in the game. It’s always slipped through my fingers, so I was going to be damned if I’d have a Qunari plot in a comic - without the same technical limitations - and not have one present.

Chad Hardin: “I had no idea this was the first time anyone outside of BioWare had seen a female Qunari.”

Michael Atiyeh: “I really like the lighting in this sequence [Isabela in her cell thinking ‘I haven’t eaten in days’], especially the strong white light and the characters in shadow.”

David Gaider: “The entire sequence of Rasaan interrogating Isabela was something I plotted out in detail when this series began. Here they discuss names - something treated in a manner peculiar to the Qunari, considering how much importance they apply to what things are called (and not called), because it forms the core of their identity. Isabela brushes it off, but as we find out later it’s also at the core of her identity. I liked that parallel.”

Alexander Freed: “To balance out the relatively static talking pages elsewhere in the issue, I hoped to make the interrogation and flashback sequences beautiful and full of information. I proposed an approach to Chad, and he wisely reshaped it into what you see here [the page with the scene where Isabela says ‘I’ve made a lot of stupid mistakes’]. Anything that succeeds on these pages should be credited to him; anything that fails is my fault.”

Chad Hardin: “Probably the most challenging spread I have ever done. My friend Stacie Pitt was the model for Isabela on this page, and my wife Joy was Rasaan. I saved these pages [around the scene when Rasaan says ‘Mistakes can be corrected’] for myself.”

David Gaider: “Sten from Dragon Age: Origins becoming the new Arishok of the Qunari was something we'd planned even during Dragon Age 2. This was a great opportunity to show that, and also to show that Sten didn’t acquire horns even despite the makeover the Qunari received in DA2. Hornless Qunari are considered special, and Sten is no exception.”

Michael Atiyeh: “I think that David, Alex and Chad handled Isabela’s flashback [to when she was sold by her mother] in an interesting way, and it created a nice flow to the story.”

David Gaider: “This was a controversial scene [what happened to the slaves Isabela was transporting], the end result of a lot of discussions between me and Isabela’s original writer on the team, and it went through a lot of revisions over that time. It needed to fit with the story Isabela told the player in DA2, but fill in the blanks of what she didn’t tell. We didn’t want Isabela to be someone who became who she is because she was ‘broken’ but instead as a result of her own actions - yet also not be completely beyond redemption.”

Chad Hardin: “These were hard pages [as above] to draw. It was difficult knowing that events such as this are part of human history, such as the Zong massacre in 1781, where the British courts ordered the insurers to reimburse the crew of the Zong for financial losses caused by throwing slaves overboard when faced with a lack of water. Horrifying beyond words.”

Michael Atiyeh: “Here, Isabela visits here crew, and I wanted to play up that she was in the light and they were in a dark cell. The light streaming through the bars gave me the opportunity to highlight Brand, who also had dialogue in the scene.”

Alexander Freed: “I struggled to find a way for Varric to contribute to victory without distracting from Alistair and Sten’s big fight. I’m happy with the solution: a brazen lie seemed appropriate to the character without taking away from the main show.”

David Gaider: “I believe my original plan had Isabela’s and Alistair’s fight scenes happening separately, but I like how Alex intertwined them in the script and I especially like how this ends up highlighting the differences between their characters when their fights are resolved. Isabela is defiant, revealing her name not because Rasaan demands it but because it’s her choice. In both cases, mercy is strength.”

Michael Atiyeh: “The brush I created for the clouds really gave them a nice watercolor effect here [on the deck of the ship, Sten calling Alistair ‘kadan’]. That brush has become a staple in my toolbox.”

Alexander Freed: “With the strong theme of names running through these issues, I liked the notion that Isabela had outgrown being, well, ‘Isabela’. When her name comes up in Until We Sleep, it’s largely played with ambiguity.”

Until We Sleep annotations

Alexander Freed: “The story of ‘Arthur’ is one of my favorite minor sequences [Varric infiltrating and fighting his way into the fortress]. It tells us something about Varric and it delivers plot information - and it’s also a reminder that our heroes kill an awful lot of people during these series and cope with it in their own ways. In general, writing Varric let me skirt the edge of metacommentary, which I greatly enjoyed.”

David Gaider: “Varric, as always, is my ‘voice of the narrator’. Here he’s expressing some of my own amusement at Alistair’s growing list of peculiarities [‘Your majesty is quite the special snowflake’]. To think, back at the beginning of Dragon Age: Origins he was just the player’s goofy sidekick who grew up in a barn.”

Michael Atiyeh: “By the third series, Until We Sleep, I really started to have a complete feel for what I wanted the final art to look like. As an artist, it’s important to continue to evolve and grow. The close-up of Sten’s face [same page as above] is a perfect example of how I wanted the rendering on the characters to look.”

Alexander Freed: “David’s outline called for a short, somber reveal of the Calenhad story by Sten. Fueled by my desire to avoid ‘talking heads’ sequences, I scripted it as a full-on storytelling flashback. David made sure the history worked (at least from the Qunari point of view), and Chad did a beautiful job handling it in a mere two pages.”

David Gaider: “Blood is important in Dragon Age, as a theme. Here we tie in the dragon blood that was mentioned all the way back in The Silent Grove and explain what it means at last. I was a bit hesitant to tarnish the legend of Calenhad the Great in this way, but I comfort myself with the knowledge this tale is but a viewpoint and not necessarily the entire truth.”

Michael Atiyeh: “Titus melting the attacker is a great example of classic comicbook storytelling and exactly what made me fall in love with the medium.”

David Gaider: “I was really happy with how Chad handled the reveal of Mae as transgender [the scene with Mae in the cell]. My worry was that Varric finding her disrobed might be potentially titillating, but I think he handled it nicely. I only wish there was more time to have Mae properly respond to being exposed in this manner, even to a friend.”

Chad Hardin: “I originally drew Mae as female [same scene as above], then changed her anatomy, so the psychological violation and humiliation she felt would be the focus. Hope that came across.”

Chad Hardin: “When in doubt, have Bianca shoot it [Varric shooting the artifact].”

David Gaider: “This scene [Varric and Bianca the dwarf] with Varric was one I wanted to do for a very long time. We’ve hinted that Varric’s crossbow was named after a real person, someone he never wants to talk about. Now I finally had the chance to show why.”

Chad Hardin: “Of all my Dragon Age pages, this scene was hands down my favorite, because Varric is my favorite. It was awesome to get to draw Bianca in her dwarven form. These scenes give you a glimpse of the love Varric and Bianca shared. It doesn’t tell you the whole story, but you can assume plenty from what is shown. You get to see Varric mostly naked (you’re welcome), but most of all you witness Varric’s heartbreak. I felt privileged to draw it. I got so obsessed with drawing this page I did an entire watercolor painting based on the last panel [Varric gets up to leave, ‘This isn’t right’ - ? or perhaps the scene where he opens the door to leave].”

Alexander Freed: “Unreliable narrators are always tricky - done wrong, they can just confuse the reader. But I’m fairly happy with Varric’s lies throughout this series, most of which are used to downplay the emotional cost of events rather than whitewash the events themselves.”

Michael Atiyeh: “This palette worked perfectly [Varric standing in front of the doorway/portal in the Fade proper], but I can’t take all the credit because BioWare provided reference for the Fade. I added the hot orange energy for the doorway, which looks great with the sickly green sky.”

David Gaider: “This scene [Isabela’s Fade nightmare] was actually inspired by a fan named Allegra who did a cosplay as a Qunari version of Isabela. I knew I wanted something like this for Isabela’s Fade section of the comic, but it didn’t really solidify until I saw the cosplay.”

Chad Hardin: “Isabela is more affected by her encounter with Rasaan than we were led to believe. A portent of things to come?”

Michael Atiyeh: “I love this shot of Mae in the fourth panel [on the page where Isabela is affected by vines]. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention what a great character she is in the series, and Chad captures her beautifully in this shot.”

Alexander Freed: “I saw this issue as a sort of downbeat victory lap. Over the course of the previous series, our protagonists largely came to terms with the inner demons the Fade confronts them with here. The fact they’ve come so far lets them win this last battle... but they still have scars that will never completely disappear.”

David Gaider: “Maric was in the first two novels I wrote for Dragon Age. Seeing Chad’s rendering of him as a regal, grown-up version of Alistair made me incredibly nostalgic. Some characters you just never let go of.”

Alexander Freed: “I feel Varric’s lines (‘tell yourself the stories you need to tell’ but ‘never live your own lies’) are the natural endpoint of all the exchanges he’s had with Alistair, starting from the end of Chapter 1 of The Silent Grove. And of course it plays off the story of ‘Arthur’, as well.’’

Chad Hardin: “I’m happy with the way Titus came off in these pages [Titus attacking and saying ‘The last magisters of Tevinter were so close’]. He looks threatening and powerful when fighting Alistair, Isabela and Varric, but genuinely confused by his inability to defeat Maric. Bye-bye, evil Jesus.”

Alexander Freed: “I can’t help but feel for Titus. He was unthinkably corrupt, but I see him as genuinely motivated by Tevinter’s glory. (The fact Alistair reads zealous ideology as a lust for power says a lot about both characters.)”

Michael Atiyeh: “I love the seamless transition of color from Titus’ magic to the dragon breath and then back into the orange remnants of his magic in the smoke. This was a really fun panel to color [Titus saying ‘Die by what wrought you’].”

David Gaider: “‘You are not the dreamer here. I am.’ I always have a scene or a line that’s in my head when I begin a tale, and this line of Maric’s was one I wanted all the way back when I started working on The Silent Grove.”

Chad Hardin: “I love this page [Maric and Alistair clasping hands]; Mike’s colors are spot on. We get to see all our heroes in an ideal state for the last time. This is the last Dragon Age page I saved for myself.”

David Gaider: “This scene kills me [Alistair destroying the Magrallen]. I knew it needed to happen; I knew I wanted it to happen even back when I began the story. Alistair lets Maric remain in the Fade rather than dragging him back to a world which has moved on. Alistair’s ready to move on, but forcing him to give up that hope... it makes me feel like a bad person.”

Chad Hardin: “Heartbreak for Alistair as he realizes that once again, as a king, he must kill: this time, his own father (granted, the Magrallen did most of the work). I really like how Maric crumbles away in the end. This was my last page, and the emotions on the page and in my studio were very final. Altogether, this was a year of my life in the making. On my last page, I wrote a thank you to everyone involved, the crew at Dark Horse and the crew at BioWare. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank them again. It was a thrill. Finally, a huge thank-you to the Dragon Age fan community, whose support was overwhelmingly awesome.”

Michael Atiyeh: “As the story came to an end, I knew I was going to miss these characters. Writing these annotations reinforces the fact that I hope to work with this great creative team again one day. Many thanks to Dark Horse and BioWare for the opportunity to work on Dragon Age.”

Alexander Freed: “The tension between the art and the narration on this page [the one with Alistair sitting on his throne while nobles argue] is something you can only pull off in comics. Neither tells the full, bittersweet story alone. Similarly, these issues wouldn’t have been possible without everyone on the team; thanks to David, Chad, Michael, and everyone I lack space to list!”

Additional pages / art

Library Edition Volume 1 also came with some additional pages, with additional art and commentary. These are as follows (I’m including them for the sake of completion, click the links to see):

1. Alistair and dragon concepts

2. Rasaan and Maevaris concepts

3. Sten, Titus and Yavana concepts

4. A series of cover pages 1

5. A series of cover pages 2

In case anyone has trouble reading the notes that accompany these images, I’ve transcribed them below:

1. Dragon Age Sketch Book

Alistair Concept 

Dragon Age / Dark Horse

Chad Hardin: “The headshot of Alistair is from a finished sketch with a rejected armor design. In order to save time, the redrawing was completed on the computer, where tweaks and changes are quick and easy, if somewhat less glorious.”

[Dragon] Head #1 / Head #2

Chad Hardin: “Everyone liked this dragon sketch so much that Dark Horse printed it for signings at conventions. You can see I did multiple proposals for the dragon’s head. It was more effective than drawing the body over and over.”

-

2. [arrow pointing to Mae’s sleeve] concealed [I think that’s what it says anyway] daggers / shurikens?

Chad Hardin: “When designing Rasaan and Maevaris, I wasn’t exactly sure how their roles would play out in the series. Maevaris’ outfit was inspired by brothel madams of the Wild West. I thought it would be cool to have some weapons concealed in the formal wear. These never came into play in the series, but they were there in my mind.”

-

3. Chad Hardin: “Although we only see Titus in his battle garb in one issue, I really liked the design of his armor. The sketch of Yavana was done on the fly and served as both a rough preliminary sketch and as a panel layout. You have to work hard and smart in comics to keep up with the deadlines.”

-

4. Cover Artist Anthony Palumbo: “This was my first assignment for Dark Horse, and I was both excited and nervous. I drew pencil sketches of the main characters, scanned them and played with different arrangements, poses and color schemes in Photoshop.”

-

5. Anthony Palumbo: “Fellow illustrator Winona Nelson helped me by sitting for photo reference. I created the mock-jewelry with gold-painted Sculpey. That’s a quick photo of my own gaping maw, to help with the image of Varric.”

#dragon age #bioware #video games #artevalentinapaz #alistair theirin #fav warden #morrigan #queen of my heart #long post #longpost

[awanderingdeal]

Simply having a wonderful Christmas Time [Part 1]

Merry Christmas to all those folks who celebrate today! This one is dedicated to those of you of who are perhaps not spending Christmas in the way that you would like this year. I hope this brings you a little bit of Joy. Please note that this fic is filled with happy Christmas people so if that is going to make you feel worse then please avoid. I’m hoping to have a Coops instalment up for those who celebrate on the 25th and O’Knutzy on 26th for all those who have boxing day and second Christmas.

CW: CHRISTMAS AND FOOD TALK

Rating: T, there are some sexual implications but I’m pretty happy leaving this at a T. Let me know if you think that needs to change. 

And finally, to @lumosinlove. Thank you for creating the sweater weather universe and in particular the fabulous OC’s that feature in this fic. They really have been a light in the darkness of this year. 

Anyway, let’s get on with this show.

P.S. Yes, we are just ignoring the fact that hockey players most definitely do not get two weeks off at Christmas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex had bitched for days about spending his Christmas in the heat of Mauritius - he wasn’t supposed to be opening presents in shorts, dammit - but he’d been willing to concede that he may have been wrong from the very moment that he had stepped through the door of their beach front villa.

He was tired and groggy from the day of travel. The recycled air of the plane had made his throat scratchy; he needed a long, hot shower, and he was generally miserable. 

“Almost there now, sweetcheeks,” Natalie reassured him as the taxi rounded a corner. “You’re going to love it, I promise.” 

The villa was one that Natalie and Kasey had stayed in a few times before, boasting of it’s view and proximity to perfect waves. Right now, Alex didn’t really care about those things. As long as the villa had a comfortable bed and a large shower, he’d be satisfied. 

Natalie was right, and soon the three of them were piling out of the car, hauling bags of luggage behind them. They were only there for two weeks but somehow had five large suitcases between them. 

“I swear, I’m going to sleep for two days,” Alex grumbled as Kasey keyed in the number to obtain the keys. 

“Try and stay awake for a few more hours,” Kasey said. “You’ll feel way better tomorrow for it.”

“Yeah, yeah, jetlag, blah, try to acclimatise to local time, blah -” Alex’s rant was cut short as he stepped through the door. “Wow,” he gasped. 

The villa was gorgeous. He’d expected the large expanse of open plan luxury; a haven of polished metal and glass windows that showed panoramic views of white sand meeting a crystal clear sea. What he hadn’t expected was the giant Christmas tree, at least a few feet taller than himself, and the rest of the expertly placed decorations. 

“Do you like it?” Kasey asked. Alex saw the glance that he and Natalie shared. They were probably worried, he’d been frozen in place for the last 30 seconds. 

Alex nodded, taking a moment to find his words, “It’s incredible. Just like home. Better.”

Everywhere he looked there was something new. A wreath on the wall. Faux furs draped over the seating. A garland that snaked all the way up the spiral staircase. 

“Are those?” Alex stepped towards the stockings that hung on the wall. Each one had a name sewn into it. Natalie. Alex. Kasey.

“Yeah,” Natalie nodded. “One for each of us. Lils made those.”

Alex let himself be pulled into Kasey’s arms, feeling a bit overwhelmed. 

“We know that Christmas with your family is very important to you and we just want you to know that we are incredibly grateful that you decided to spend it with us this year,” Kasey said softly. 

“Finn already bailed anyway,” Alex gave a small laugh. He felt Natalie join them and her arms were also there, enclosing Alex between his two favourite people. 

“We told them to leave the tree. Thought we could decorate it together?” Natalie told him.

“God, I love you two.” Alex breathed. 

That had been ten days ago. Now, a cheesy Christmas movie played on the TV but Alex wasn’t paying it much attention; enjoying the memory and being curled into Kasey’s chest. His fingers played idly with Natalie’s blonde waves as she snored softly in his lap.  

It was the perfect end to a perfect day, a delicately balanced mixture of tradition and newness. Alex saw how hard his partners had worked to give him a Christmas day that rivalved those of his memories with his family and Alex couldn’t wait to thank them properly for it tomorrow. For now though, he was content to just bask in the moment.

“Al,” Kasey whispered. “Do you want to head to bed? I’m not really watching this.”

Alex looked up at Kasey, a gentle smile resting on his lips, “Yeah, bed sounds good to me.”

“Shotgun, not waking Natalie up” Kasey laughed.

“No need to wake her up. I’ll carry her,” Alex said. "Besides, she’s not that bad.”

Kasey frowned, “She bit me once.” 

“Yeah, and did you clap in her ear like you did to me that time?” Alex replied. “Because if so, then you deserved it.” 

“Not my fault you both sleep like the dead.” Kasey mumbled under his breath, switching off the TV and taking their dirty glasses to the sink. 

Natalie gave a small grumble as she was picked up, wriggling in Alex’s arms before settling herself into the crook. 

“God, she’s so cute.” Alex spoke quietly. 

“You both are.” Kasey said with a grin, pressing a kiss first to Natalie’s cheek and then Alex’s. He led them the short distance to the bedroom, pulling the thin sheets on the bed back so that Alex could lie Natalie down. 

“I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” Alex started to walk towards the en-suite but suddenly his phone was vibrating against the bedside table. The noise seemed extraordinarily loud in the quiet room. “Fuck, that’ll be Finn. Get that please, Kase?”

Kasey grabbed the phone and Alex heard a snort as he read the contact name, Fillet O’Fish. 

“Hi!” Finn’s voice boomed a few seconds before his face appeared. 

“Sssh.” Kasey hissed, rapidly hitting the down volume key. 

“Oh, hi, Blizz,” Finn said. “Don’t know why I wasn’t expecting you. You’re naked. Why are you naked? Am I interrupting something? Is Alex naked too? I don’t want to see that.” 

Alex plucked the phone from Kasey’s hand with a laugh. “He’s not naked, we’re just getting reading for bed,” Alex replied, panning the camera down and showing Kasey’s plaid pyjama pants to prove his point. 

Alex pecked Kasey on the lips, “I’m going to take this to the other room.” 

“Alright,” Kasey returned the kiss. “Merry Christmas Finn,” he added, giving the camera a wave. 

“Merry Christmas, Kase!” a chorus of replies was heard. 

Alex wandered from the bedroom, settling himself into a seat that gave a stunning view of the beach that their villa was sat on. 

“Wait, isn’t it only 9 pm there?” Finn asked. “Why are you going to bed already?” 

Before Alex could answer, Logan appeared in the frame, leaning over the back of the sofa to wrap his arms around Finn’s neck, “So nosy, Fish. Maybe they tired each other out, eh?” 

Finn’s nose wrinkled with a look of disgust, “eww.”

“Nothing like that,” Alex laughed. “Not this evening anyway,” he continued, a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“Get it, Alex,” Leo teased, flopping himself onto the sofa next to Finn. 

“Look at this view,” Alex said, turning the camera so they could see the idyllic scenery in an attempt to change the subject. It only served to trigger a memory from earlier that day, one that he probably shouldn't have been thinking about whilst on the phone with his brother. 

Alex sighed happily to himself as he looked down at the watch on his wrist. It looked out of place against his bright blue and pink flamingo shorts, but Alex had received it from Kasey earlier that morning and he refused to take it off. 

It was barely 11 am. However, it was Christmas day, so Alex didn't feel even the slightest bit guilty about the cosmopolitan balanced between his fingers, as he waited for Natalie and Kasey to come back from their surf. Alex wasn’t the biggest fan of the water, preferring to stay in the shade of the giant umbrella they had set up despite Natalie’s playful chirping. 

Alex had pointed the watch out on his and Kasey’s first date without Natalie. They'd been heading to the aquarium when Alex had spotted it in the window of the jewellers. He'd made the briefest passing comment about how beautiful it was and it made Alex's heart sing that Kasey had remembered. 

As if they knew that he was thinking about them, Alex saw the sun bronzed figures of his partners making their way towards him. They looked good; fitted wetsuits showing off their toned bodies and their faces brightened by laughter. Alex loved Kasey’s laugh, people thought it was rare but he just saved it for those that he thought truly deserved it. Apparently, Alex was one of those people now. 

“Close your mouth, O’Hara.” Natalie teased, grabbing a towel and piling her hair into it. 

“Hmm,” Finn nodded, pulling Alex from the memory too soon. “That is beautiful. I think mine has been better though.” His brother's eyes glanced back towards Logan with a smirk and Alex had a sneaking suspicion that Logan's torso wasn't the only thing that was bare. 

"Yeah, you can keep that one for yourself," Alex retorted. 

“Hey Haz! Did Kase like his present?” Leo asked. 

Alex had enjoyed getting to know his brother’s second boyfriend. He offered a stabilizing presence to Finn and Logan’s chaos and to paraphrase shrek, “he was like an onion, he had layers.” Leo had been Kasey’s secret santa and Alex hated to admit it, but he had done a great job. 

“Unfortunately yes,” Alex pretended to glare. “I suppose I have Finn to thank for helping you with that?”

Leo shook his head, “Your mom actually. She was more than willing to send many photos of baby Alex.” 

Alex barked out a laugh, “Of course she was.” He couldn’t really be mad. The three of them had spent an age flipping through the scrapbook of his childhood photos, laughing at the annotations that Leo had added in his delicate script. 

The alarm on Leo’s phone blared. “Sorry, that’s the timer for the potatoes,” the blond apologised. “I better go and check on them.”

“I can come and help.” Finn said.

Alex saw Leo visibly wince before he replied, "No thank you sweetheart. Y’all stay and talk with your brother.” 

Alex raised an eyebrow, “Do I even want to know what disasters you are causing?”

“You cannot talk, Alexander,” Logan defended. “You nearly burnt your kitchen down making toast.”

Alex didn’t have an argument to that, it was true. He hadn’t been much help with Christmas dinner either. 

“Are you sure that you don’t want me to do anything?”  Alex asked for the thousandth time. Besides setting the table, he really hadn’t done much to help with the meal and he didn’t feel great about it. 

“Yes,” Natalie insisted. “We really do not need a trip to the ER today. Just sit down and look pretty.” 

He protested a little but did as he was told. He watched Natalie and Kasey work, moving seamlessly around one another. And then Alex was standing again. He went back inside, ignoring his partner's queries. He was only going to be a moment anyway. Alex reappeared with his camera. He may not be able to cook, but he was excellent at photography. He remembered how they had found so much joy in looking at the photos of himself earlier and wanted to document their first Christmas together. Hopefully, in years to come it would bring them similar joy. 

He took photo after photo of the meal coming together. Kasey flipping the steaks on the BBQ. Natalie glazing the prawns in sauce. The private glances they shared. 

The camera was taken out of his hands and he heard the shutter snap as Natalie fed him pieces of peach. 

He beckoned the two of them over and took a few shots of the three of them together, Santa hats perched on their heads, until Natalie was cursing about something burning.

He’d go through the photos later but he doubted there would be many that he wanted to delete. 

“Earth to Alex!” Finn shouted and Alex blushed as he realised that they had been trying to get his attention for a little while.

Logan rolled his eyes, “You and Finn make the same stupid faces.”

“Oi!” Alex and Finn exclaimed together. 

“C’est Vrai,” Logan chimed.

“I’ll admit to being a hopeless romantic.” Alex shrugged. “It’s part of my charm.”

Finn snorted at that, “It’s not my fault that you and Le are so cute.”

“Agreed.” Alex nodded. “Nat and Kase should be less perfect. It’s all their fault really.”

“You’re both disgusting,” Logan groaned, but he was pressing his lips to the bare flesh on the back of Finn's neck, and Alex had known those two long enough to know exactly where that was going. 

“On that note, I am going to bed. Have a fantastic Christmas, boys.”

#O'Darwin #Coops #O'Knutzy #Lumosinlove #Sweater Weather #Coast to Coast #Winter holidays #Christmas #Food #ALL FLUFF

[ayuuria]

Yashahime Translation: Animage April 2021 Issue (Part 1)

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

This month’s Animage article has more content than usual and mainly covers the music of Hanyō no Yashahime. That being said, I have decided to split the translation into three parts

Part 1: Interview with Kaoru Wada, Satō Teruo, and Nagura Yasushi

Part 2: Interview with NEWS

Part 3: Interview with Ryokuoushoku Shakai

Wrapped in the Warm Demonic Air of Spring!?

The Yashahimes, who reside in the feudal era, are in the midst of fully enjoying the spring event that is so familiar in the modern era. Surrounding those girls isn’t the nice warm air but rather the presence of a dangerous demon… …?

Spring is here! Towa, Setsuna, Moroha, and Takechiyo are blessing Easter under the bright warm weather. On this day, the three girls who carry the blood of the Dog General have turned into easter bunnies Y Setsuna, Moroha, and Takechiyo who grew up in the feudal era are overflowing with curiosity at the vibrant easter eggs Towa paints.

Well, in the illustration the Yashahimes have a warm air about them but in the main story, the girls are truly in the middle of an upheaval. In episode 21, the relationship between Riku and Kirinmaru which was wrapped in mystery up until now has been revealed. Riku himself states that he was abandoned by Kirinmaru.

In addition, in episode 22, Kirinmaru’s older sister, Zero, appears before the three of them, controls Towa’s body, forcefully breaks the seal placed upon Setsuna, and disappears after doing whatever she pleases. Zero is the creator of the cause that separated child Towa and Setsuna. Also, it seems she has a connection to Rin’s slumber. It appears Riku fondly calls Zero “Elder sister” but to Towa and the others, she is a person they need to keep an eye on.

The three girls continue to be exposed to a harsh fate. When will the girls be able to reunite with their families and live out a peaceful life known as “the flower (prime) of youth”?

Character Bios

Takechiyo A cheeky tanuki (racoon dog) demon child who works at the corpse shop. He gets snacks from the modern era when he cooperates with Towa, which pleases him. He is also aiming for the easter eggs!?

Higurashi Towa In order to save Setsuna who had her dreams and sleep stolen, she searches for the Dream Butterfly. Her explosive power when Setsuna is in a crisis is enough to leave a scar on Kirinmaru.

Setsuna She is always cool and calm but in episode 22, Zero released the seal placed on her demonic blood and Setsuna went out of control. It was resealed by Hisui’s older sister, Kin’u.

Moroha She works hard as a bounty hunter to repay her debt to Shikabaneya Jyuubee. In episode 21, she obtained the head of Tōtetsu of the Four Perils and received her first monetary reward in a while.

Spring Has Arrived in Towa’s Heart!?

In episode 21, Towa an Riku approach each other for the first time in a while. While saying there is no meaning in protecting her, Riku defended Towa from Tōtetsu’s attack and Towa told him “I like you!!” and gave him the silver rainbow pearl. Although it is not to the point of love, there certainly seems to be a special feeling budding between the two.

The Rainbow Pearls Are Zero’s Tears

The true nature of the rainbow pearls that Riku and many other demons seek out: they are the transformed tears Zero spilled onto the Shikon Jewel when she grieved the Dog General’s death. Currently, Riku possesses five of the rainbow pearls: green, purple, blue, orange, and silver. Setsuna and Moroha have the other two remaining pearls. When all seven are gathered, what exactly will happen?

The Grim Comet and Kirin-Sensei

The Grim Comet is a comet that nears the earth once every 500 years, bringing calamity with it. Working together to get rid of the comet were the Dog General and Kirinmaru during the Heian era and Sesshōmaru and Inuyasha during the feudal era. And now the modern era. Watching the Grim Comet approach once again was Towa’s middle school English teacher, Kirin Osamu-sensei. What exactly is his true identity?

Coloring the World with Sound

Director: Satō Teruo Music: Wada Kaoru Sound Director: Nagura Yasushi

To commemorate the release of the soundtrack CD, we circled around composer Wada Kaoru for a round-table discussion. We had him talk about the charm of the background music for “Hanyō no Yashahime”.

The Main Theme is the Yashahime’s “Hereafter”

— How did you create the musical composition for “Hanyō no Yashahime”?

Nagura: First, we gathered information from the finished scenarios and I created an at-a-glance music menu. After having director Satō review it, I handed it to Wada-sensei and we got together for meetings. We had Wada-sensei compose in accordance with that music menu but…

Wada: At that stage, we only had a rough direction of the story and the only finished scenarios that had final manuscripts were episodes 7 and 8. Not only did a lot of characters appear but just from reading the script, it was a constant state of “???” from the beginning like “Why are they separated even though they’re twin sisters?” “Where are the parents?” “Why is Moroha alone?”. It was then that (series composition) Sumisawa (Katsuyuki)-san and I had quite a few secret meetings where we cross-examined the information regarding the characters and story. I used that as a base for composing. While talking with Sumisawa-san, we had thoughts like “Even though it isn’t in the music menu, we probably need a song for this character” and as a result, the number songs increased unintentionally (laughs).

Satō: At first, we placed an order for 45 songs which I think is a lot for a 2 cour work. However, from there you created 1 to 5 times as many songs which I truly thank you for. I’d like to use all of them within the story.

— Wada-san, how do you normally go about composing music?

Wada: I don’t really use a piano and I just worry endlessly and have wild ideas. There are times when I think of ideas while walking. I’ve also come up with many ideas during my daily life like sitting at my desk in the office, taking a bath, or going shopping. If there are times where I can only come up with the motif, then there are also times where I can come up with an entire song in an instant. There are a variety of cases. Fundamentally, the melody I think of doesn’t get left in that spot. I consider anything I forget as something not good.

First, I need a starting point like “Let’s make something in this direction” so until I reach that point, I will rethink things over repeatedly. This time too, I had a hard time settling on the main theme that is “Hanyō no Yashahime”. The main theme expresses the world setting of a work, so I wonder how much to depict. This is why my meeting with Sumisawa-san regarding “Where exactly is this story going?” was necessary (laughs). It’s not like the music is the story’s answer checker but the main theme for “Inuyasha”, “Half-Demon Inuyasha”, is an action-adventure kind of music so to speak. Compared to that, it was a little different this time. What will happen to the three Yashahimes from here on was a major key to the motif, so in that sense, without knowing the story, I couldn’t write anything.

By the way, back then I rewrote “Half-Demon Inuyasha” three times before completing it. It was a completely different song at first and after writing and performing the piece as well as rereading the original comic again, I thought "This doesn’t fit”. Every time I’m creating a song, it’s a repetition of going in one direction or another.

Songs From the “Inuyasha” Era Have Been Reborn as A Next Generation Version

— Please tells us the characteristics of the music for “Hanyō no Yashahime”

Wada: For “Inuyasha”, it was work where the feudal era was the setting so the objective at the beginning was to heavily use traditional Japanese instruments like the biwa, shakuhachi, and flute. Rather than making traditional music like in Noh (play) or kabuki, my aim was to add the traditional Japanese instruments into the orchestra without feeling out of place. It went well in “Inuyasha”, so I continued that with “Hanyō no Yashahime”. As a work, “Hanyō no Yashahime” isn’t necessarily a “sequel to “Inuyasha”” but the music is.

Satō: This is something I also ordered. Afterall, I absolutely wanted the “Inuyasha” atmosphere. Nevertheless, this is a new story, so I wanted it to evolve as well.

Nagura: This time, we are using several musical compositions from the time of “Inuyasha”, but we’ve done new recordings of them. This is because roughly 20 years have passed since the songs for “Inuyasha” were first created. We worried that the “Inuyasha” music as it was back then and the newly recorded music for “Hanyō no Yashahime” wouldn’t take on the same color when mixed together. Thus, we had them newly recorded as a “Hanyō no Yashahime” version.

— In terms of “Hanyō no Yashahime” for example, how is the “Inuyasha” version from back then different from the “Hanyō no Yashahime” version?

Wada: The biggest difference is the tempo. I have recorded “Half-demon Inuyasha” several times after its completion but the slowest one was the first version. The tempo then was a quarter note = 120 (beats per minute) (annotation: roughly fast paced (allegro). The second hand of the clock is a quarter note = 60 bpm). At first, I looked at the comics and thought “Is this how it should go?” but when watching the anime, I began wanting to match the tempo of the animation and steadily (the music) changed into something action like. At the end, we had risen the bpm to nearly 140. This time, we can’t really use (the music) if it’s too fast so I generally keep it around 130 bpm.

— Director Satō, Sound Director Nagura, please tell us a scene within the main story where you especially felt the charm of Wada-san’s music.

Nagura: In episode 1 and 7, there’s a scene where Setsuna and Moroha rush to Towa who’s being held captive within Ougigayatsu-Hiiragi mansion, but you see, in episode 1, we didn’t use the main theme, “Hanyō no Yashahime”. This is because episode 1 was imaged as building the bridge between "Inuyasha and Kagome’s era” and “the Yashahime’s era”. During that time, based on the circumstances, we had battle type music set in but with the story having progressed in episode 7, we put in “Hanyō no Yashahime” as “Towa and the others’ music”. We were able to set it in a good way where it truly felt “Yashahimes Gather!”

Satō: We would love for people to pay close attention to that scene. “Hanyō no Yashahime” is my absolute favorite song. When I heard this song, I felt “With this, the world setting of “Hanyō no Yashahime” has been expressed” and I once again realized how amazing Wada-sensei was. For the scene in episode 7 where Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha gather, we not only redid the music but also the acting and recording for the three princesses. At a glance, it’s the same scene as episode 1 but I think it would be fun to view and compare them.

The Cheering Party During Composing

“When I was composing these (songs), there was the broadcasting of ““Inuyasha” Best Episode” on Youtube and events like “Inuyasha Café” and the “Inuyasha Anime Tracing Exhibition” were topics of discussion. That kind of hype up for Inuyasha was a like cheering party that encouraged me. I was truly grateful for it.” (Wada)

The Main Instruments of the Three Princesses

“With the various character themes, I employed an instrument that imaged each character. Towa is the flute type instruments (Japanese woodwinds), Setsuna is a koto, and Moroha is the percussion and flute. Also, Moroha’s theme has the inheritance of her mother’s blood in mind, so it’s a transformed version of the song “Overcoming Time Kagome” back from “Inuyasha””. (Wada)

#yashahime #hanyou no yashahime #yashahime: princess half demon #translation

[dreamofmysoul-tsc]

I'll Stay Here With You Until This Dream Is Gone

A story about Matthew Fairchild and James Herondale

Title from “Burning House” by Cam

I’ve never written fanfiction before, nor am I really a writer, but this idea has been poking at my mind for awhile now so I figured I’d write it down. I probably won't write more fanfic btw, my brain just wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this 😅

Little nods to The Haunting of Hill House and Bly Manor if you squint

This story follows the theory that Matthew becomes a Downworlder; in this story he is a vampire, although it isn't that important. Also, lots of angst. Suffer with me y'all. Enjoy!

CW for talks of death and the afterlife

January, 1963

Watery, gray light filters through the thick, velvet curtains despite their best efforts to keep the sun at bay. The house sits quiet, empty save for its owner and a single butler. A man sits at an antique writing desk, blonde head bent over thick sheets of paper, each embossed with a golden MF. He writes slowly, thoughtful of each word he inks onto the pages. A glass of water sits precariously on the edge of the writing desk, half empty.

A series of swift knocks resounds throughout the home. The man doesn't raise his head, expecting his butler, Mr. Wingrave, to answer it. As expected, he hears the door creak open, followed by a quick, muffled exchange. Whoever decided to darken his doorstep leaves as fast as they came, the door closing shut with a resounding thunk. His butler begins to ascend the stairs, but the man continues to write his letter, a half smile beginning to turn up the corner of his mouth.

His bedroom door swings open. "Mr. Fairchild?" Wingrave stands on the threshold, a folded note held in his hand. It is without an envelope, as though whoever wrote it sent it off in a hurry.

"Yes?" Fairchild says distractedly, mind still occupied by his letter.

"A note for you, sent by a Mr. Owen Herondale, sir."

This causes Fairchild to pause. Why did his godson, whom he had visited just last week, send him a letter so early in the morning? Despite his best efforts, he feels a mix of curiosity and mild concern begin to build.

"From Owen? Whatever for?" Not expecting a response, he accepts the note from Wingrave. He unfolds the thin paper and feels his stomach drop.

Father is dying. Please get to the townhouse as soon as you can. He needs you.

-OH

James. His Jamie. He reads the succinct words over and over, unable to fully understand, or perhaps fully accept, their meaning. Of course he knew James was getting on in years, he isn't that in denial, but he had never fully sat back to think about how he would go on or what he would even do when James was gone. Now reality is crashing down on him, harsh and cold, as he lurches out of his seat and grabs for his coat. He barely gives himself time to put his shoes on before he's running out the door, only to be reminded harshly of his vampirism when the winter sun scalds his face. He can't find it in himself to care, ducking his head and sticking to the shaded walls of buildings as he sprints flat out toward Curzon Street.

Thanks to his vampire speed, he manages to limit his sun exposure and make it to Curzon Street in record time. He bangs on the townhouse door, red tears already welling up in his eyes, unnoticed until they begin to fall, cold, down his cheeks.

Owen opens the door immediately, black eyes wretched and lips pressed into a thin line, clearly trying to prevent himself from falling apart. He looks so like James, who always hated to cry too, that Matthew almost lets out the sob building up in his chest, yet he holds it in for Owen's sake. Matthew wraps him in a fierce hug, tucking his godson's face against his neck like Owen used to do when he was a boy. Owen holds onto his godfather's coat, trembling but still trying his best to keep it together.

Owen pulls back, sniffling and red eyed, voice hoarse as he says "Dad is upstairs in the bedroom. He's been asking for you all morning. I'm sorry I summoned you so early, but I just don't know how much time he has left." His voice cracks as he says it, tears finally falling. Matthew holds his face in his hands and wipes them away, pushing his hair from his forehead. Despite being in his 40s, Matthew will always see him as the chubby faced little boy Owen was so many years ago.

Taking a deep breath, Matthew ascends the stairs up to Jamie's bedroom. Cordelia, having passed a year prior, would've reprimanded him for getting dirt and slush on her lovely rugs. He almost chuckles at the memory.

James' door is already ajar as Matthew gently pushes it open. It takes Matthew yet another valiant effort to hold in a sob. James lays back on the bed, hands folded over each other, white hair fanned out behind his head like a halo. He holds a gold necklace in one hand, a miniature globe attached to the end of it, and a photograph in the other.

Matthew takes a seat in the cushioned chair by the bed and rests his hands on the duvet in an attempt to stop their shaking. "Jamie," he whispers, voice hoarse.

James' eyes crack open, still the same champagne gold as when he was a young man, and miraculously, he smiles. Matthew finally lets out the cries he's been holding in upon seeing that smile, warm and earnest, a smile that can only be described as so perfectly James.

James sets the objects in his hands aside and reaches out a surprisingly steady hand as Matthew meets him in the middle. He holds onto James' hand like it's a life raft, pressing his knuckles to his forehead and doing nothing to quiet his crying.

"If I had known it'd be this soon-" he chokes out, red tears staining James' calloused hands.

James cuts him off gently. "None of that, Matthew. What was I supposed to do, wait around until death came for me? My body is giving up on me, Math. I knew that my time was coming and that's exactly why I need you here. Because despite everything, I'm afraid. And although you no longer have the rune, we are still parabatai. I'm afraid of what comes after, Math, and I...please, just sit with me."

Matthew looks up, bloody tears dripping steadily onto James' poor bedsheets. He squeezes his parabatai's hand and he nods. "Of course I'll stay with you, Jamie bach. Whither thou goest, I shall go, remember? Even if I can't feel you, I won't let you go into the dark alone."

James lets out a soft chuckle as tears form in his eyes and squeezes Matthew's hand in return. "Thank you, Math."

As the day progresses into night, Matthew finds himself laying next to his parabatai, pushing his white hair back from his forehead and listening to his slow, wheezing breath. James sleeps and Matthew watches, afraid that if he so much as looks away from him, his friend won't have a hand to guide him into his afterlife.

Owen visits periodically to check on his father, occasionally clutching onto his hand and looking on with heartbroken eyes. He's even so kind as to offer his godfather blood, blood that they kept refrigerated for his visits, but the thought of stomaching anything causes bile to rise in the back of Matthew's throat.

Earlier, while arranging himself on James's bed, he finally caught a glimpse of the photograph James had held in his hand. It was a photo of them in their teenage years, Matthew's arm draped over James' shoulders, dressed in fashions well out of style, bright smiles on their faces. Matthew remembered that day well. It was a hot day in June and they'd gone to Regent's Park to enjoy the summer weather and catch up on reading. What had started as a peaceful summer day had ended with Matthew dramatically-and loudly- reciting passages from Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest while passersby looked on in faint amusement or unmasked annoyance. James had been mortified, repeatedly begging Matthew to stop through fits of laughter, ending with the boys play wrestling in the grass as James attempted to grab the play's script from Matthew's hands. They had ended up with grass stains all over their shirts, leaves sticking up in their hair, and Matthew was fairly certain he'd almost upended their picnic basket into the pond. It had been one of the best days of Matthew's life.

Matthew laughed through his tears as he gazed down at the photo, holding onto James' hand even tighter and continuing to watch him. He had once called James his heart and now he realizes how true he had been. James was always steady and strong, a presence he could rely on when he oftentimes couldn't even rely on himself. He kept Matthew tethered to the earth while Matthew in turn kept James from getting lost in his head. Matthew the kite, James the line. And without the line, Matthew wasn't sure what he was going to do.

Logically, he knew this would happen. James would die and Matthew would live on, unchanging. And one day he would realize he had lived more days without James than with him. The sense of panic he felt at the thought of forgetting his laugh, his dry wit, the specific way he annotated his books, even the way he made his tea, was so strong it almost knocked the breath out of him.

But as he takes in the face of his parabatai, his best friend, that panic winks out as quick as it came. Matthew's death was uncertain, but it wouldn't evade him forever. And although Matthew never considered himself a spiritual man, he believed that he would see James again. He had to believe that, otherwise he knew that his grief would threaten to eat him alive. Matthew knew that James' grief had threatened to eat him alive, too, after Cordelia's passing. If Matthew can gift his friend a peaceful end, he hopes with everything he has that Cordelia will be there to guide James home.

James dies not in the thick of battle or at the vicious claws of a demon, but in his bed, left hand held in the iron grip of his parabatai. He dies gently, quietly, breath suddenly stopping, hands going limp at his sides. Matthew hears his heart stop beating before James even exhales for that final time, pressing his forehead to his friend's and letting himself cry, guttural and grief stricken, unashamedly weeping into his parabatai's neck. Distantly, he hears his godson enter the room despite the late hour. Distantly, he sees Owen fall to his knees next to his father's bedside and clutch at his arm, joining Matthew in his lamentation.

And so, he holds onto James' hand and he cries. And he hopes with everything he has that he will see him again. He keeps that hope in his chest, a lighthouse on a distant, stormy shore, as he closes his parabatai's eyes and whispers, "Ave atque vale, Jamie bach. Hail and farewell."

#my first fanfic #i made myself sad #tsc #tlh #matthew fairchild #james herondale #i love them so much but they hurt me #tw talk of death and the afterlife #full of angst #sorry y'all #owen herondale #the dates of james and cordelia's deaths are from the v inaccurate family tree btw so take em with a grain of salt besties

[queerchoicesblog]

Epilogue: Underwater (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series)

As promised, here the epilogue of the Zetta x Adele Series, folks. 

This is the very end of a project that meant me quite a lot to me and got me through the last terrible year. Thanks to all those who supported it: hope you enjoyed it and will enjoy this ending.

In case you were wondering, this song inspired the whole series, particularly the last chapters:

I will skip the tag list for once since it’s pointless anyway. 

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15 , Ch. 16, Ch. 17

_________________________

Almost a century after the sinking of the RMS Titanic and to celebrate Canada becoming the first country outside Europe to legalise same-sex marriage, the Canadian Film Institute decided to work side by side with several LGBTQ+ organisations across the world to put together an exhibition focused on the early queer cinema and the many queer stars who were forced to hide their true selves in the Golden Age of cinematography, spanning from 1890s till the aftermath of Second World War. "A testament to the role the LGBTQ+ community played in the history of cinema and that we have always been here, even if people hardly saw us" as a journalist wrote on a queer magazine. After the recent discovery of some private documents, the curators were overjoyed to include an icon of the 1900s - 1910s cinema like Zetta Serda into the retrospective and cast a new light on her extraordinary career sadly soon forgotten after the advent of the sound era. Yet, the silent picture star was mentioned as a model and 'endless source of inspiration" by many queer movie stars like Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, Greta Garbo all part of the retrospective. Rumor has it that as soon as she landed in America, Marlene Dietrich demanded his agent a meeting with Mrs King.

A curator drove all the way to Montreal to meet the last known heir, a certain Mrs. Julia Nowak, who greeted him on the threshold of a cosy downtown apartment. She offered him a coffee and a slice of a Polish sweet bread: the recipe was a family heirloom, she explained, beaming. She was in her late fifties, a therapist, she said. Her hazel eyes gleamed when she added, in a pleasantly soothing voice that betrayed a hint of excitement: "I must confess I am so incredibly happy that you contacted me about the retrospective. I adore the idea and I will make sure to attend it. Also" she nodded to a wedding picture hung to the wall "did you know that my wife is in politics? She campaigned for the legalisation...yes, Madeleine Fournier: see, you know her! We got married right after the law passed. If anything, your call and project made me twice as happy". She took a pause, smiling over her coffee in remembrance. "Anyway, back to the matter of your visit...yes, as far as I know, I am Zetta's last heir. As you probably know, my family wasn't officially related to her but she stated otherwise in her will". She moved to the couch and gestured the curator to follow her as she opened up one of the boxes and chests piled into the living room and picked out an old album, the leather cover worn at the edges. Dust waltzed in the air as she opened it with caution and gentle care. She showed him a slightly discoloured black and white picture of a young couple kissing for the camera in front of a church. Another wedding picture, from a different era. "Nana Hileni and Papa Maciej's wedding picture. I still remember them even if they both died when I was barely a teen...as if one couldn't bear to live without the other. Or so I like to think. She would help me with the homework, mathematics particularly, and he baked this bread for me till he was too weak to do so. He always claimed that he won Nana's heart with his pastries but she always denied it laughing". She passed another picture of the same couple proudly standing in front of the Nowak family bakery in Hoboken. "Frankly, I believe that Papa's broad shoulders and Marlon Brando smile are more likely to blame for this coup de foudre" she laughed. "And he knew how to deal with her no-nonsense attitude and vice versa. They...balanced each other, if you wish". She picked another picture and handed it to him. A woman was looking down in tender adoration and awe to a baby nestled in her arms looking up at her, outstretching a tiny arm in an attempt to touch her face. "There! This is Dad" she pointed at the baby before turning the picture where someone wrote 'Alex meets Auntie Adele'. Turning it again, she pointed at the woman. "This is Adele Carrem. Or Auntie Adele as I've always heard calling her. Nana's sister and Zetta's publicist and companion" Putting it back into the album, she carefully picked a bunch of other old pictures. "You surely know who this one is" she smiled, handing out the one on top. The photo was rather grainy but you could still recognise the same kid, slightly older, around two, sucking his thumb, cuddled up in Zetta's lap. The actress had aged a little but her features were unmistakable and it was endearing to see her sitting by the fireplace to read that kid with the sleepy face a bedtime story. "Sadly, I have never met them. I wish I did, oh you have no idea...but stories of them lived through in our family" Julia continued. "My Dad loved his Aunties - as he called them - dearly and by what I've heard and read, they loved him in manner as if he was their own. He knew little of them or Zetta's career back then...to him they were just the sweet ladies who would buy him ice-cream in Central Park or take him to see his favourite pictures over and over again at the movie theater. He said he will never forget the afternoons he used to spend with them in a Manhattan cafe that no longer exists around Christmas: Nana and Papa worked like crazy as the festive season approached and the glorious cup of hot chocolate with an elegant puff of cream on top with the Aunties became a tradition to him. He kept it alive somehow as he did the same with me". She handed the curator a bunch of other pictures: Zetta cleaning up Alex's face smeared with jam, the both of them laughing; Zetta posing with Maciej and her Dad at a table in the Hoboken bakery. He eventually mirrored her smile seeing a five years old Alex at the beach all engrossed in building a sandcastle with Hileni and Adele, and he standing at the water edge hand in hand with Miss Carrem, looking out into the distance. "These are family pictures. I'll show you the Zetta's private memorabilia we cherished". Julia searched a little, opening an old chest and handling every item inside with tender care. When she found what she was looking for, she showed the curator an elegant set of smaller boxes containing letters, dried flowers and photos. "I have already received an offer to get these published. I'm still pondering it. Before agreeing, I want to consider throughly if this is a thing they would have wanted, even if they're no longer here" The curator nodded as she kept searching. He skimmed a few letters and smiled as his eyes fall on the photos hidden away in those boxes: the two women sitting together and chatting at Hileni's wedding, Zetta's reading a script, lazily sprawled on a chaise long in her apartment. Some had short lines handwritten on the back, like a promotional picture with "Missing you" written by Zetta herself. The curator showed another to Mrs Nowak: a visibly excited Miss Carrem proudly showing to the camera a document announcing her voter registration. On the back, in Zetta's penmanship: "On the way to vote...my sweet Adele won!". "Oh you didn't know? Auntie Adele was a suffragette! I couldn't believe it when I first heard it! Nana told me that she was in and out jail when they lived in London because of protests. You know, like those suffragettes you read about in history books but less famous. Yet she fought for women's rights and kept fighting for them even in America. She was quite disappointed though by some major decisions of some feminist movements and eventually joined a socialist Union 'more rightfully welcoming working class individuals, immigrants and black brothers and sisters'. It's all in those letters but yeah, you couldn't possibly know. So little is known about her outside family". A little smile drew on her face as she put back the photo. "That photo was taken the day of the first election open to women. I checked the date. I suppose Zetta wanted to immortalise the moment...it was sweet of her, huh? Auntie Adele must have been so proud and overjoyed that day! You know, my Dad was born in 1920 when women's right to vote was legalised nationally and Nana once told me that Auntie commented the lucky coincidence saying she was incredibly happy her nephew would get to live in a fairer world. She was a true force of nature...she never talked much of the sinking of the Titanic just like Zetta and Nana actually but when one day Dad asked...he was barely a child and probably found an old article about the tragedy...Auntie Adele minimised but Nana assured him that her sister saved her life that night, risking her own to go down to the belly of the sinking ship to bring her to safety. Auntie simply shrugged, saying that it was what sisters do and that they made it to the lifeboats only thanks to Zetta, who shouted protests to stubborn officers and eventually found them a spot on a boat. I cannot even bring myself to imagine how scary that must have been: I cried so much when Madeleine took me to see Leo and Kate...to think they were there and it was all real!" She picked a few other objects out the box: a Shakespeare Sonnets book in a leather cover with golden engravings, with a little handwritten dedication 'To Adele, my sonnet 116. Happy birthday! With all my love, Zetta'; old scripts with annotations, a framed photograph of Adele and Zetta slow dancing barefoot in the living room of a gorgeous Long Island mansion. "These have a sentimental value" Mrs Nowak noted, her voice betraying the flicker of emotions as she picked it up. She took a deep sigh and continued. "I remember the day I told Dad I was gay as it was yesterday. We had always been quite close so it came natural to tell him first. We were in his car, he had come straight from college to pick me up at ice-skating practice. I..I dropped it in the middle of a conversation, bracing myself for the worst. I heard so many bad stories about coming out to your parents I was terrified of the consequences but I couldn't hide it anymore. I mean, yes, in public: bullies get even nastier if they know and I didn't want people shouting me "dyke" at school. But I needed to get it out of my chest...with someone at least. He kept quiet for a moment and I felt like drowning in shame. But then he spoke". A nostalgic tender smile formed Julia's lips. "He said he had two amazing Aunties that contributed to make his life a wondrous adventure. It was thanks to them that he, the son of a baker, could attend a prestigious college, for instance: they offered to pay for it without asking a penny back. They also helped him write his first romantic letter to his childhood sweetheart and consoled him when the little girl turned him down. But his Aunties had a secret, he added. He said: to my kid eyes they were no less a couple than Mom and Dad and at home we all treated them in manner but one day Mom made me promise to behave differently when we were in public. In public I would refer to her sister as 'Auntie Adele' but call Zetta by her name. He didn't get it and it took some getting used to. He soon noticed that even the Aunties behaved a bit differently out in the sun: they wouldn't hold hands or use endearing words in the street or when other people were around. They simply behaved like good friends did. He understood it later when he, as stubborn as a mule, asked them directly". Julia gently grazed her fingers on the glass of the framed photograph, caressing it. "And they told me everything, he said. That they were in love, just like mom and dad were, but people out there could be uncomfortable and extremely rude to women loving other women and men loving other men. That they kept their companionship a secret in public because those people had no problems with women being friends and they didn't want to have bad words or worse happening to them. I remember asking him what he thought about it. He smiled. 'I cried. Since Auntie Zetta mentioned people claiming that women like them were sick and would burn in hell, I actually started crying. I sobbed desperately in her arms, crying that I didn't want them to burn in hell, I loved my Aunties and I was happy they loved each other. Eventually they explained me it was just a vile lie spread my malignant people. But I got quite a scare and kept staring at them with puffy red eyes and my face wet with tears for a while. It required lots of cuddling to bring a smile back on my face'. He shook his head, laughing of his endearing naivety. Then he pulled over and looked at me. He continued: 'I still don't get why people keep spreading those mean lies but I know for sure that my Aunties weren't sick and didn't end up in hell and so won't you. Don't believe bullshits like that for a split second, okay? And I also want you to remember that it doesn't change a thing for me and mom too. You will always be my little girl, our little girl and we love you'. We shared a long hug before driving back home. On the way back he insisted to buy my favourite chicken and waffles for dinner, saying mom's veggie soup could wait. For my birthday, a month later or so, he asked me to follow him to the attic and showed me this chest. To meet the Aunties that 'would have surely been there for me'". She tipped away a tear. "I told you I married Madeleine right after the legalisation of same-sex marriages. My wedding was also the last public event Mom and Dad attended together before his health worsened irremediably. He passed away last year". For a moment she looked on the verge of tears but she recovered quickly. "Sorry...anyway, that day Dad insisted on walking me down the aisle even if he was getting weak. He beamed with pride when a friend fixed a rainbow ribbon to his jacket. Later at the lunch he read a speech he had written for the day, his hand shaking. He shared the story of his Aunties. He said that despite the hardships their situation forced upon them, they had quite a happy life together, a happiness carefully hidden from the world. He wished us to find something similar to what they shared without needing to hide anymore. He said Adele and Zetta would have been so happy and proud to celebrate with all of us that day" Mrs. Nowak picked the Shakespeare Sonnet book and gave him a fond look. "He brought this to the wedding. And he read for us the sonnet 116, the one Zetta mentioned in her dedication. You know, the one that starts with 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments..." ----------------------- A few months later the exhibition on old Hollywood queer cinema and artists opened. Each artist had a room that soon filled with a crowd of enthusiastic visitors. In the first half, in a room arranged as a turn of the century nickelodeon with velvet chairs, all the memorabilia of Zetta Serda's public life: panels explaining the various stages of her career and the birth of her myth, promotional pictures of her performances, articles about her and a copy of a gazette announcing her wedding with the director Richard King. On the wall, on a screen her entire filmography rolled up in loop, bewitching spectators after a century. In display cases: the gorgeous sapphire necklace she wore on her last night on the Ship of Dreams and at the movie party of Surviving the Titanic, and a replica of her Cleopatra costume. The aging Queen of Egypt with a tragic love and destiny immortalised by Shakespeare was her last role back on the theater stage before retiring from the scenes. Old scripts with her personal annotation were displayed with photographs taken on sets and mundane events. The wall hosting the motion-picture screen cut the room in half. On the other side, the hidden half of her life. Her life with Adele no one suspected back then. A life kept secret that now unveiled in front of the eyes of the visitors. The curators discovered that finding public pictures of Miss Carrem was nearly impossible, true to the nickname she acquired as time went by: The Shadow. She stayed at Zetta's side until and even after she stopped acting, showing rare loyalty and devotion, but ever surrounded by this mystery allure. No one, even the most stubborn reporters managed to know anything about her and she was soon dismissed as a Titanic survivor, possibly a fan, who worked as Zetta's secretary and somehow gained her respect. Little they knew about the depth of their relationship and what stacks of secret letters and family memories revealed of the life of Miss Carrem. A panel finally told her story and her secret achievements: Adele, or better Adal, kept fighting for a fairer world and society her whole life and marched for women's right to vote on the famous parade in 1915. She also passed the teaching of Edith Garrud to her American sisters. The only pictures of her came from the Nowak family, except for one. The only photograph of a public appearance of Miss Carrem as well as the only known public appearance of Zetta and Adele. An old grainy photo accurately framed showed Adele shaking hands with The Unsinkable Molly Brown on a podium. In her free hand a shiny medal and a few steps behind the mayor of New York. According to the panel, the survivors' committee founded by Mrs. Brown decided to award Miss Carrem a medal for bravery and a generous check "to help her and her sister starting a new life in America". With great surprise, Miss Carrem received the medal and the check, thanked the board but refused the honors. Instead, she asked to deliver them both to the family of a certain Charlie Stoke, a stewart that lost his life in the sinking to save her life and those of many passengers. She added that her friend expressed the desire to study naval engineering one day and she wished that the money kindly offered to her would be enough to establish a scholarship for boys like him across the ocean. In another picture, Miss Carrem and her sister chatted with Moll Brown in company of Zetta. Eventually, other philanthropists and wealthy socialites signed checks for her cause so that the Stoke family received a generous contribution too. And today, as another picture confirmed, the faculty of naval engineering of the University of Newcastle hosts a marble engraving of Charlie Stoke: to his memory a scholarship had been instituted one year after on the anniversary of the sinking. Since 1913 it has been helping students of poor background to get an education and improve their life. Zetta herself became a philanthropist during her Renaissance and ever since. The first act of her new phase of her life was joining the Moll Brown survivors committee to provide help to the second and third class passengers families and survivors. Some said that the tragedy she witnessed touched her heart, other claimed that it was to be attributed to the influence of her publicist. Jokingly, she used to say that after all, she had too much money yet all she could have wished for in her life, so why not doing some good with it? A considerable donation under her and Mr King was received by the main hospital during the Spanish flu pandemic; she was particularly active in providing financial help to struggling neighbourhoods and female education institutions. In the middle of the room, a long glass display hosted the Shakespeare Sonnets opened at sonnet 116 and a selection of the private correspondence between Zetta and Adele. My darling, You will receive this letter tomorrow morning when I'll be already off to Chicago. The suitcases are ready and packed, this is a goodnight note scribbled the night before leaving you to remind you how much I love you and care about you. How much I'm going to miss you even if - thank God! - we won't be parted for long... Do not forget you promised me to write every day! Write to me, Adele, write to me whatever thought crosses that gorgeous mind of you: you know I could you rambling for hours without getting tired of the sound of your voice, of your sparkling wisdom. I wanna know everything. So don't be shy: I'll be waiting your letters with tender impatience. Can't wait to be in your arms once more. Adoringly yours, Zetta - Dear, dearest Zetta, I went to Central Park today with Hileni. It was a gorgeous spring day, sunny, a gentle breeze blowing: 'simply too beautiful to be wasted inside' as my sister put it. Did I tell you that she's still exchanging letters with the delivery boy from the hat shop? I thought they were over but apparently he invited her to the nickelodeon next week. Anyway, walking in the park with her I suddenly realised how I wanted to share that spring wonder with you. When are you coming back to New York? Tell me soon, please. And even 'soon' won't be soon enough: you're always on my mind since you left. But yes, tell me soon so I can make you promise we will go for a walk before the weather becomes too hot. Do you think I can wrap my arm with yours? Is it professional enough for a publicist? Even just for a few steps: oh you have no idea how I would love that! Or maybe you have? I hope so: it'd mean you miss me as much as I miss you when we are apart. Oh, I almost forgot: all settled with that magazine you mentioned before your departure! I negotiated a two pages long interview, plus pictures. And a cover mention. Hope I did well: you have already fired me as your secretary, I must prove you I am just what you're looking for in a publicist... Can't wait to see you again! Loving you always, Adele Only one letter was copied on a panel of its own on the main wall side by side with a blow-up of the picture of Adele and Zetta slow-dancing barefoot and free, for a blessed moment immortalised in a discreet shot. Adele pressing a tender kiss on Zetta's forehead, drawing a soft smile on the acrtress' lips. Many visitors commented it was heartwarming to see such a photograph that conveyed the intimacy and the warmth of affection radiating from the dancing couple. Some said that Zetta was even more beautiful like that: free, hair slightly askew and genuinely happy, loved. What stole their hearts away though was the letter attached to it. It was no surprise that the curators decided to name the retrospective Underwater. Dearest Adele, Forgive me for the tone of this letter. I am writing it down in bed while I cannot sleep and my mind runs back to you as if we could meet halfway between the miles separating us, in a world of fantasy of our own. It's ridiculous how much I miss you! I want you near, I need you near all the time. Take tonight: if you were here with me, I would be heavenly sleeping in your loving embrace. Most unfortunately, you are not and I'm lying here, insomniac, thinking of you. And about my life. No, don't frown. I am not getting all sad again. It's...bittersweet. And - I'll spoil you the ending so you will stop worrying, hopefully - it gets better the more you proceed. Have you ever felt trapped underwater? I did, my whole life. Always hiding, always measuring words, gestures, gazes not to let them see, not to let them know...so little time to go up and break the surface. Drop the mask and breathe. In, out. Once, twice. In my lowest moments I repeated to my myself: how are you gonna survive? One day an acquaintance with a remarkable passion for the sea explained me and the other bored commensals that you can keep someone alive by breathing oxygen into their mouth underwater. Pretty much like mouth-to-mouth resuscitation helps an unconscious person to regain consciousness. I found it interesting but doubted his words. Then I met you, Adele. My dearest, wondrous Adele. And I learnt that yes, you can't breathe if you're constantly underwater...but you won't drown if you have the right person swimming by your side in those deep waters. Put your lips on me, Adele. Touch me, hold me in your arms. And I can live underwater. With your love, I can live underwater. We can live underwater. I love you. I want to cover a full page of these three simple words: I love you. I want to cry them out and entrust them to the winds, to the night. But what for? Who cares if the world knows or not? I'll whisper them over your lips when we will be reunited. So you can breathe underwater. Counting down the hours separating us, my love. Eternally yours, Zetta

#titanic storyscape #sc titanic #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series