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period-dramallama · 3 years

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Spanish Princess Episode 5: many many thoughts

Strap yo selves in

-WHERE WAS THE APOLOGY?? Lina’s just back with Catherine like nothing happened??

-Katherine, I get why you’re upset, but you kind of should be unsurprised?? Your dad was unfaithful to his wife, most kings were. Henry VII and Richard III were the exceptions, and even they had illegitimate sons before their marriages. Many kings also had official mistresses that everyone knew about, so by the standards of the time Henry and Bessie are actually being pretty tactful in at least trying to keep their affair out of sight. (Sexy dancing aside).

-Honestly it would have been so much more moving if KoA was like “I know kings take mistresses...but I thought...I was so sure... he would be different...”

-”they gave me a purse of gold!” It’s expected that you give the monarch lavish presents, lmao Ursula and Stafford would do that even if they hated each other and you

-”everybody loves a masque” the only sensible thing Henry has said so far in this show. Also court probably had way more masques than we see in the show, and it would standard to have a masque every holiday.

-”she is not a boy” hurry up with your character development and learn to love Mary already i am so TIRED of this miserable BS

-seems a rather depopulated masque? If the Chateau Vert pageant is anything to go by putting on a masque was a court activity, with most of the ladies performing.

-Bessie Blount in her cute masque costume... sweet mother i cannot weave Aphrodite has overcome me with GAAAAAAAAAAAAY

-”I never enjoyed carousing...my mother scolded me” look i love the Neville sisters with my whole heart but a) Margaret was 3 at most when her mother died, how does she remember her? She’d have clearer memories of her double-uncle and double-aunt, Richard III and Queen Anne b) Isabel Neville in the White Queen was established as very prim and proper, a well-bred girl who cared about enforcing decorum, she refused to ‘carouse’ and she certainly would never bring a 3 year old to a party c) we saw little Margaret as a girl at the end of the White Queen and she didn’t seem at all shy.

-”she died young, didn’t she” ...yes? most people did?

-”they both did” understatement of the year. Isabel Neville died young because she was ill, George died young (in the universe of The White Queen, at least) BECAUSE HE WAS FORCEFULLY DROWNED IN A VAT OF MALMSEY WINE. THESE TWO THINGS ARE NOT THE SAME! I do at least trust the writers of this show that the understatement was intentional, I’m sure even Emma Frost couldn’t forget a major character getting violently drowned.

-So the court only noticed the plague when one of their own got it so obviously and then died? Yes, plague could move fast, but if there was a whiff of plague the court would flee with the speed of the Looney Tunes road runner. If an acquaintance of an acquaintance of a cook had a cousin who saw someone with the plague, the court would flee to the country. How have these people not died of terminal stupid?! Like Compton was in the same building as the heir to the throne

-To be fair, it makes sense that they’re surprised Compton’s dead. Because the real Compton died of the sweating sickness. In 1528. Also he was involved in Buckingham’s downfall so... you just wrote yourself into a corner.

-Oh wow an actual good reason for More and Pole to be quarantined together i am amaaaaaazed

-”attend the queen” Boleyn, what do you think your daughter’s been doing all season if not attending the queen? Playing tetris?

-Katherine helping Anne into the wagon...I actually like that little moment. Like it does make sense, because the two have no reason to hate each other yet. (And who couldn’t like Anne? She’s such a babby!)

-Thomas More in the Tudor equivalent of casual clothes... much better. Shame about the 1930s lady’s wig.

-”what else should we do?” Maggie, this cannot be the first epidemic you’ve ever lived through. Have you forgotten the sweating sickness of 1485? You’ve probably lived through more epidemics than Oviedo has, you should know the protocol better than him.

-Oviedo continues to be the only man with rights. I wish we could see him crying and missing his wife and babies, but then my lil heart would break so maybe it’s for the best.

-They burn Maggie’s weird blue hood AS THEY SHOULD! IT WAS UGLY AND STUPID! I NEVER HAVE TO LOOK AT IT AGAIN NOW! THANK YOU SO MUCH! yes they also burned her nice dress with the strawberries on it but honestly it’s worth it, bc now i can rest easy, knowing the evil hood has been defeated.

-”you were a plaything” Katherine is so obviously insecure. I’m getting second-hand embarrassment. Like if she really was certain Bessie wasn’t important, she wouldn’t need to say it, would she? Except to rub it in. Which this KOA would absolutely do.

-literally all Bessie said was good morning?? Like Bessie is doing her best?? The masque was Henry’s idea, not hers, she hasn’t shown off about her affair, she hasn’t demanded money or titles, she hasn’t demanded any status to rival Katherine’s, she doesn’t flirt with or even speak to Henry when Katherine’s around, she acts like they’re strangers, she doesn’t even react when Katherine loses her temper...someone please please stick up for Bessie!

-”the rocking of the cart is unsettling to the stomach” is Anne naive, or is she covering for Bessie? I hope it’s the latter, in which case Anne is the one person looking out for Bessie...the babby is Soft, I repeat the babby is Soft!

-the irony of Mary being cold to Bessie when she’s next in the firing line...

-”it is not the rocking” Thank you Lina, where would we be without your gift for stating the obvious?

-”where did Wolsey get his money”...He’s a churchman...at the top of the church hierarchy...how do you fuckin think he got wealthy. Have y’all not been in the sixteenth century for five minutes? Why do you think Luther is so mad at the church?

-”I know of no other man in her bed most nights” Honestly wow I’m surprised KoA wasn’t like “well :/ a girl like that :/ who knows how many men process in and out of her bed :/” KoA gets half a point for being less bitchy than usual. Also Bessie looked so uncomfortable with Henry groping her stomach in front of Katherine. I pray the next man in her life treats her right and that Fraham don’t prematurely kill her off like they did with Compton.

-”the future king” if you’re regent on his behalf, then he’s already king! “Civilised companionship” back at it again with the Scots-are-barbarians.

-Laura Carmichael is utterly stunning this episode, with her hair down. The cinematography was beautiful in general this week.

-”freedom to speak and licence to speak are two different things” hey look at that one of Thomas More’s actual beliefs. I am giving all the credit to the historical advisor for that, I don’t believe for one second Fraham knew that beforehand.

-Maggie I love you but no, God does not sanction adultery. For any reason.

-KOA smirking and gloating about Bessie’s pain...she has never been so punchable. I would understand, if not condone it, if Bessie was manipulative, or greedy, or ambitious, or trying to supplant Katherine. But Bessie’s been betrayed by Henry too, and there’s no concrete evidence she ever gloated about her affair, to anyone let alone Katherine.

-”You think only of your own fate while London is struck down with plague” Earth to Katherine?? What concern have you shown for the Londoners?? Also calling Bessie selfish...Bessie’s not the one who lashed out at Lina, was jealous at Lina for having twin boys, and who wanted to continue a war for personal reasons. And then Bessie proves KoA wrong 5 hot seconds later by sticking up for Mary. Bit rich of KoA to be all “how dare you leave my daughter unattended” when she herself won’t even hold Mary.

-”Louis didn’t last a year” What! Is! The Timeline!

-Meg in that cloak reminds me of the Scottish Widow adverts. Georgie is so greedy- she steals every single scene she is in! Even when she’s raging she has more dignity and more presence than KoA ever has.

-”YOU LYING SOD” i burst out laughing it’s really not the little two-timing shit’s day, is it?

-Mary receiving Charlie B in the most Extra way possible. A++

-Why does Wolsey look like he’s about to cry?

-”thoughts are not actions” Lina I love you but... that is NOT what the New Testament says. Jesus said evil thoughts are very very much sins. I’ll give you a pass because maybe you haven’t been Catholic as long as Katherine has? Idk your backstory.

-Aaand now she’s wishing death on Bessie and her unborn baby and Lina isn’t disgusted? At least Katherine is feeling guilty. AS SHE SHOULD.

-”must it always fall to me to be magnanimous?” Katherine, you think only of yourself, for 23 out of every 24 hours.

-”God wants me to be compassionate to Bessie because of my sins” God wants you to be compassionate because that’s how Christianity is supposed to work. It’s not very selfless of you to decide to be selfless so that you can get what you want.

-oh wow look at that! She’s getting some self-awareness, i never saw that coming.

-”you betrayed Bessie” 5 points to Katherine of Aragon for standing up for Bessie when Henry screwed her over. Finally, some positive character development.

- MINUS 20000 POINTS FOR BABY STEALING

-WHAT THE FUCK

-is henry so dumb he thinks that baby is Katherine’s? Katherine was so obviously not pregnant

-When a baby’s born his skin needs to touch his mother’s skin so they can bond. They should have at least an hour’s cuddle time. Katherine of Aragon is literally traumatising a baby the very minute he is born. For her own selfish, selfish desires.

#the spanish princess

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harritudur · 4 years

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because every ship needs its ‘we accidentaly got married in Vegas’ AU, so here the noabeth version (AO3 link) 1860 words + pg-13 + no beta, we die like men!

Elisabeth wakes up to a headache, her head pounding too heavily to her liking. As she becomes more and more conscious, her eyes slowly crack open. This is… not her room. Then she notices a cheap plastic ring on her left hand (the kind of ridiculous rings you get for 2$ from capsule-toys distributors) and a warm lump curled against her side.

Well fuck.

The memories of the last 24 hours come flooding back:

—the fly to Las Vegas —the international congress about renewable energy sources —the four boring hours of conference she attended to (without sign language interpreter, thank you) —the open-bar on the second floor —the tall blonde man she already run into two weeks ago in Berlin, and couldn’t stop thinking about since then —his fingers as he tried to remember the few words in sign langage his mother taugh him years ago —his face as he explained his presence to attend the conference of Dr… something? about… doctrines? or was it churches? —his eyes dancing on her bare knee when she crossed her legs —his name she couldn’t stop mouthing between glasses of vodka —N-O-A-H —his hand, warm on her low back when they left the bar —his lips pressed to hers in the elevator —Noah —his arms around her waist as they walked out the hotel —alcohol —music —his mouth —the irresistible perfum she breathed in when her nose brushed the soft skin beside his ear —alcohol —the flashing lights —his mouth —more alcohol —a song —his fucking delicious mouth —giggles —a chapel —a kiss —a hotel room…

She stops and checks under the sheet.

THANKS GOD! Her shirt and skirt are still on.

With great care, Elisabeth stretches to observe her partner in crime. Even turned towards the wall as he is, she can tell he is still sleeping by the quiet rise and fall of his bare shoulders. She decides to take a more attentive look at him and the first thing she notices is a plastic ring of the same quality than hers on his left hand. Oh God. Then, the edge of a tattoo catchs her eyes, linen covering most of his back.

Leaves? Maybe flowers?

Her curiosity getting the better of her, Elisabeth pushes the sheet away to reveal the entire tattoo. A tree, with a classic design. Its branches large and full of leaves and fruits (apples), and its roots deep in the soil, each ramification, each bisection leading to a name. Religious names, but from different faiths.

Beautiful.

It’s only when he shudders lightly that she realizes her fingertips were tracing over the ink on his back. By the vibration she feels under them, he is murmuring something and her hand moves away.

After a few yawns, Noah turns over, and a soft smile begins to work its way across his face when his eyes land on Elisabeth.

“That dream again…” he whispers, so faintly she can’t read his lips. But his brief delight disappears when a violent migraine encircles his skull. He blinks, and remembers a few drinks, a few laughs, a few kisses, and… what else? He can’t tell. His incompetent brain makes him groan and Noah covers up his face with his left hand. As he does, something not supposed to be there touches his cheek, and he blinks again before muttering. “What the-”

A silly plastic band around his ring finger. “-fuck??!!”

The memory of his own voice singing loud and off-key Bruno Mars’ Marry You starts to haunt Noah’s ears, and the face of an Elvis Presley in a white rhinestone jumpsuit with a priest’s collar pops right into his mind.

“… oh. Oh.”

Everything is spinning a little around him, but pieces by pieces, the puzzle of the last night starts to reconstitute itself.

“Hm wellllllll… so apprently, we drank a lot,” Noah says as he sits up, cross-legged, and is now facing his wife. “And… we got married.”

The calm in his tone can not be heard, but Elisabeth sees it on his lips, his face, his attitude, his body… This whole situation seems absolutely normal and not upsetting for him, and she just wants to scream.

With great suppleness (which Noah remarks by an eyebrow-raising), Elisabeth reaches for her purse on the ground by the bed, and takes out her loyal notepad and blue pencil to write.

you’re not freaking out?

“Not really, no” he replies, shrugging. “And… It was your idea after all.”

She has to make him repeat the last part, because there is no way that she is at the initiative of this non-sense. Noah repeats the same words, with that astounding calm, and Elisabeth rolls her eyes in a cocky way. She writes down on a new page, in capital:

IMPOSSIBLE

“Yes. Your idea.”

Her head shakes. No. She is a rational woman. A reasonable woman. Sure, this Noah is sexy and hot and funny and smart and courteous and totally her kind of guy and she is definitely attracted to him… but no. No way! She is not the instigator. Or, is she?

Noah smiles at her gently and her chest suddenly tightens. Fuck.

After a tilt of his head to ask for permission, he takes the notepad from her hands and flippes through the previous pages. In doing so, Noah can go back in time, can witness and find passed conversations, and he eventually stops at one page. He smiles again and shows it to Elisabeth.

There, in blue, little hearts all around, a shaky handwriting that she identifies as hers:

<3< 3 marrY ME pleas e <3</i>

“If I remember correctly, you wanted us to get married, and I said no at first -because I thought it had to be a joke. But you almost started to cry. So…” he explains at an Elisabeth deathly pale. “I said yes. And we went to a chapel with an Elvis-priest.”

There is a furrow between Elisabeth’s eyebrows and she just wants the earth to open up and to swallow her. It takes her a long minute to processes the information he just gave and, like a sliver of light through the darkness, she… remembers.

[ she nuzzled into his neck, his arms secure around her waist, and breathed him in. He laughed and Elisabeth felt a warmth rush over her. Alcohol or Noah? She moved away to enjoy the enticing sight and kissed him again. And again. And again. Her hands started to dance in the air, before she could even think about it, and signed: marry me. ]

All the details of the night or their chronology are still nebulous. But she clearly remembers *that* moment, and the way she felt. The feelings. The want. The need to have this man. To claim him as hers. Where did such impetuous desires come from?

She looks up and Noah’s eyes are still on her face, but the calm in them shifts into something different. Trouble? Worry? No. Care, Elisabeth recognizes.

He gets off the bed to look for his shirt and she can’t help but huffes her disappointment when he finds it. Now decent (except for his bed-hair), he stands in the middle of the room, hands on his hips in a superhero pose, the one you use when you need confidence and nerve. His face softens into a tender look that makes Elisabeth’s breath hitch in her throat. Again.

“So, now that we’re all better, and sober,“ he says, walking back towards the bed and stops at its edge, “I guess I’ll go get us a divorce.”

A gasp leaves her lips and she sits up straight on the mattress. Divorce. How Elisabeth hates the word. Her parents divorced when she was still in her early teens and, witnessed the torment and tears, and she became determined, more than anything, not to be like them. To marry just once, for good! And with the man of her life.

She shakes her head. One of Noah’s eyebrows arches.

“No?”

She shakes her head once more and this time, mouthes her answer. No.

Noah gulps. It is not the reaction he expected, but it is not an unpleasant one neither. He glances at the end table next to the bed, observing a piece of paper on top. Their marriage licence.

[ they tumbled onto the bed, a mess of tipsy giggles and limbs. Noah pulled away to place kisses all over the side of Elisabeth’s jaw and neck, but she grabbed his face to press his mouth against hers. When Noah came up for air, a giant grin spread across his flushed face. She looked up at him with a tired but tender smile, and her fingers found the buttons on his shirt, too clumsy to work properly. “Let me…” he whispered against her lips, hovering just above them and Elisabeth took her chance to kiss him quickly before falling back on the mattress with a sigh. With difficulty, he eventually took off his shirt and tossed it on the ground. When he looked down, Elisabeth was snoring, dead to the world, and he laughed. Tiredness was taking over him as well, and Noah curled-up in the bed next to her. He pushed gently a stand of golden hair off her face before falling into sleep without a second thought ]

He nods.

“Okay?”

i don’t want to divorce. we could try. and i think i like you.

Her eyes glare at him with demand and Noah tries to find arguments against it. In vain. And he figures out how they ended up in this situation: he is unable to say ‘no’ to her (adorable) stubbornness. But is her ‘i like you’ enough to build a marriage on?

“Okay, okay… we can try and work it out,” Noah states as he sits by her side on the bed so she can read his lips more easily. “And… if we look at the situation in a practical way, there are benefits. Tax benefits. Insurance benefits. I read as well that marriage help you live longer!”

She laughs and he notices the dimples from her smile. Once more, her pen moves quickly over the paper.

marital confidences privilege too

This time, he is the one to smile, and his knee touches hers through the sheet.

“True! I mean… if I decide one day to kill people, I could tell you every details, and yet, you couldn’t testify against me.”

She tiltes her head, an almost curious expression appearing on her face as she looked at him. Then a grin, and more writing.

i was more talking about civil procedure for neighbourhood disputes but im in to cover up your murders

He laughs and Elisabeth wishes she can hear the sound of it. She easily understands how drunk-her could have wanted this man to be hers. Noah moves closer, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to kiss her, but he doesn’t. And a part of Elisabeth wants him to.

Maybe when the time will be right -and after they both have brushed their teeth.

“I will order a very light brunch for two then.”

Noah eventually leans over to kiss her cheek and Elisabeth doesn’t withdraw. She could get used to that.

#okay BUT THEY BOTH TOTALY WILL KEEP THE PLASTIC RINGS -EVEN AT WORK #she will have very serious meeting with the CEO of the TIEDERMANN company #and he will gives courses in front of hundred of students about religions #WITH THEIR RIDICULOUS PLASTIC RINGS (THAT THEY SECRETLY CHERISH)#noah x elisabeth #elisabeth doppler #hanno tauber #noah dark #noabeth #noahbeth #YES i need all the au

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coltmint6 · 2 years

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Change Address On Your Driving Licence Online

There are seven MOT test centres which can check your application for you. If you have misplaced this form or no longer have it, don’t worry. You can order a replacement on the Government’s website, or obtain a fresh copy by popping into your local Post Office. You are a resident of Great Britain and can provide addresses for the last 3 years. You have a Government Gateway ID. You will get an ID during application if you do not already have an online account. I've also removed the personal information included in your original comment - I would advise you not to share these in comments for your own security. You will need to provide a piece of original documentation confirming your change of name. Suitable documentary evidence include a marriage certificate, decree absolute or a Deed Poll document. I got the form, filled it in and got my new updated license back in 10 days. Please note that the change of address service is available between 7am and 7pm. So don’t delay – if you need to change your address on your V5C, give our safe and speedy new service a go. If you don't, you could be fined up to £1,000, regardless of whether you're a learner driver or not. Failing to update the details on your licence could land you with a fine of £1,000. Applying for a new photo card is licence is simple and motorists are likely to receive their new one within a week of sending off an application. If you have forgotten to update your address you should do so as soon as possible. Once your application has been submitted, your new licence photocard should be with you within a week. It can sometimes take a little longer, but if three weeks go by and you’ve not received anything in the post, you should chase it up with the DVLA. If you are in an accident without changing your address with your insurance company this may invalidate your policy, or affect how much you may need to pay. If you develop a medical condition or disability that may affect your driving, or you already suffer from one and your condition gets worse, you must tell the DVA. If you want to renew your photo, the licence will be also be renewed. Because not changing your address with the DVLA is a criminal offence, you may also be cautioned or charged. You can be fined up to £1,000 for not changing the address. It can take longer if the DVLA needs to check any of the details of your application. This, it said, will reduce wait times from six weeks to five working days. It is easier and faster to change your address using the DVLA’s online service. To apply, you’ll need your driving licence and to be a resident of Great Britain – drivers in Northern Ireland follow a different process. Drivers must renew their photocard licences every 10 years, and will be sent a reminder before their current licence expires. Applying for dvla driving licence driving licence, or renewing an existing one, has become a headache for motorists since the start of the Covid-19 pandemic. You need to notify us of any changes to a premises licence holder or designated premises supervisor name and/or address for premises within our licensing area. And, interestingly, the DVLA is the only company which requires you by law to have your driver’s licence match your new name. It takes roughly three weeks for the new photocard licence to be delivered in the post, according to the RAC. Your driving licence is a legal document and inaccurate information on it could see you hit with a massive £1,000 fine.

#driving license

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killemwithkawaii · 4 years

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I’m here again! (Man, you’re stuck with me now, huh?) Anyways! Yan!Sal finding out their darling wants to be with him, but is in an arranged marriage with someone else. How would this go? Also, if it’s ok to ask, I just want some NSFW head canons for yan!Sal pls :3

Oh nooo, whatever shall i dooo~~~? ;3c

Yan!Sal and his S/Os arranged marriage-

>”It’s never a crime to follow your heart”

>Love-sick Sally would never kidnap his darling against their will

>But kidnapping them in order to elope?

>👌👌👌

>Would make a detailed and fool-proof plan to whisk his darling away in the dead of night and make the both of them vanish from their would-be suitors radar

>Is fully prepared to keep running- as long as he can be with his darling

>If desperate enough, he would be willing to break the law to make sure they’re taken care of- shoplifting food, stealing cars, pickpocketing people that can afford to misplace a few 20s…

>would eventually find a secluded place to settle down, maybe a little cottage down a dirt road in the woods somewhere. It’s not much, but anywhere he and his darling can be together is a place he can call home 💕🏡

Some general NSFW(ish) yan!Sal headcannons-

>He has dozens of notebooks and a few shoe boxes of love notes, poetry and straight-up smut he’s written about his darling (to ‘just get it out’), but would absolutely die on the spot if they ever read any of it. It’s all on cute stationary he thinks they would like and picks it out special, just for writing about them. 📝💌

>Just can’t get enough of how they smell. Their hair, their shirts, their underwear, he’s not picky- just whatever he can get his hands on (or sneak from their room). Knows the brand of their shampoo, deodorant and perfume, notices if they change it up (and may have to buy some for himself so he can get his fix)

>Just about everything about his darling is adorable and arousing- their voice, their mannerisms, the way they carry themselves… he could watch them all day~ (and sometimes he does!) 📸💕

>Keeps notes of he and his darlings interactions so he can remember every detail- especially the things they like and dislike. He knows their birthday, their favorite bands and movies, their work schedule, their licence plate number, their sleep schedule, clothing sizes, what they usually pick up from the grocery store, their allergies and the medication they take… he’s just curious, that’s all uwu

>finds any excuse at all to give them gifts, but his favorite is ‘it just made me think of you’ (because he’s always thinking of them) 🎁

>his closet has been taken over with what one might consider a shrine to his darling. It started as a little keepsake box, but his collection quickly out-grew the container as he started keeping things they left behind (notes, receipts, chapstick, maybe a few used straws, etc.), along with every little gift they’ve given him, all his secret poloroid pictures of them, all the writing he’s done about them, the drawings he’s tried to do of them and clothes he’s stolen from them. It’s accumulated to the point that he can’t really keep anything else in there, and he keeps it under lock and key so nobody can stumble upon it accidentally. 🔐🔞💞

#K.E.W.K. answers #K.E.W.K. is in quarantine #yandere sal fisher #love-sick sally #yandere #romance #K.E.W.K. writes #selfshipping #f/o #sorry steve #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher x s/i #danu-chan

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sob-dylan · 4 years

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4, 21?

4. do you think its ok to separate the artist from the art?

Oh boy. My opinion on this point changes a lot. In an ask I answered a few days ago, I talked about how I think it’s important to view art as a marriage between authorial intent and viewer experience, rather than one dominating the other. But I guess in some regards, it depends on the what kind of art you’re talking about.

I’m an architecture student (I guess you could argue that architecture is merely design, and not art, but whatever), so it’s pretty easy for me to say “yes! In fact, it’s imperative to separate art from the artist!” Architecture is a field that’s suffered from excessive emphasis on the authorship and rhetorical intent. I think that today, most architects would agree that user experience is light years more important that authorial intent. Just a couple months ago, during a review for a studio course, I spent a lot of time during my project presentation talking about all the different ways in which I honored the historical-modern blend of San Francisco’s SoMa district, (where my project was sited), particularly in regards to the facade design. One of the reviewers told me I was much too focused on the rhetoric behind my design, and not focused enough on the tangible, programmatic consequences of my design decisions. He was absolutely right! Looking back through history, this was an especially common problem in early modernist architecture. A famous example would be Philip Johnson's Glass House.

If you measure it’s artistic “success” based solely on Johnson’s intent, it’s a masterpiece! ( At this point, I paused to go have an early dinner. During this time, I had quite a bit to drink, so if there’s any perceived shift of sorts at this point, that’s why! Sorry! ) It showcases both Johnson’s acute awareness of the prevailing aesthetic sensibilities of the time and his deep knowledge of architectural history, (it’s rife with Classical references). But if you choose to completely separate the art from the artist and judge it’s merit solely on the finished product . . . maybe it isn’t so great. Perhaps it still can be regarded as an “aesthetic triumph,” but it’s got it’s problems. It’s a glass house in the middle of fucking Connecticut! What the fuck were you thinking, Philip Johnson! Thank god that now it’s only a museum and not a place that people actually have to live! No amount of “perfect geometry” is going to make this a comfortable place to inhabit. In fact, if I remember correctly, a lot the heavy-duty program for this project is actually underground, where climate control is much more manageable. Architecture may be an extreme example of why user experience could be considered more important than authorial intent— since the user experience of architecture, which has largely to do with bodily comfort, is (seemingly) more easily quantifiable and (perhaps) less subjective than the user experience of, say, a painting— but it’s extremity makes it the most salient.

My understanding is that historically, in more scholarly circles, this question has had a lot to do with the “death of the author,” concerning whether or not an audience should consider authorial intent when consuming art. But it seems like, these days, especially on the internet, this question is usually meant to ask “is it okay to like art created by someone ‘problematic?’” To which my answer is 🤷‍♀️ I mean, I think Roman Polanski’s a horrible person but I also think Rosemary's Baby is a great movie. I wouldn’t call that separating the art from the artist, I would call that recognizing the merits of the film and the hard work of all of the decent people who collaborated on it, while also recognizing it was written and directed by a vile person. It’s important to regard everything and everyone with a critical eye. So while I don’t think you should ever totally disregard who produced a work of art and why, I also don’t think your opinion of an artist should determine whether or not you decide to consume their work, nor should it preclude you from recognizing it’s merits. And vice versa. Just because you love an artist doesn’t mean you should consume their art with a blind eye to all of the art’s/all of the artist’s shortcomings. (That being said, I’m not saying the reputation of the artist doesn’t/shouldn’t affect the user experience. If you know that you won’t be able to sit through a movie knowing it was written and directed by a child rapist, then by all means, don’t watch Rosemary’s Baby). In short, my opinion is: engage with any kind of art your interested in, but always engage with it critically. And if you’re worried about contributing to the wealth of someone you view as loathsome, you can get around that. In this day and age— for better or for worse— it’s pretty easy to consume art while making sure the artist doesn’t see a profit. Don’t want to influence Amazon’s decision to renew their licencing of a Roman Polanski movie, but still interested in what all the hype around Rosemary’s Baby is about? Then stream it illegally online! Mia Farrow’s great in it— I think it’s worth a watch!

21. what’s a conspiracy you believe in?

I genuinely believe that the mafia had a hand in getting JFK elected.

#ask #macross-82 #long post

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doof-doofblog · 3 years

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"Let's Have That Playdate Tomorrow!"

Friday 20th November 2020

Hello again everyone! Hope you all are doing well, this current lockdown is nearly at an end! Hopefully things will start to look a bit better when Christmas comes around! I apologise for me being so behind on the episodes lately, unfortunately I am still working during this current lockdown and of course with things happening in my own personal life, there are times I miss out on watching an episode, let alone even getting the time to review one and type up a blog. I want to thank you all for your on-going support, there have been so many spoilers as to what may be happening over the Christmas period on Albert Square, I'm really looking to watching it all unfold!

Meanwhile, let's carry on from where I was last up to, Friday's episode. The episode begins with Kat, she's slumped on the kitchen table as Stacey makes her way in. Poor Kat looks as if she hasn't been able to have a wink of sleep all night. She reveals to Stacey that she's tried calling everyone she knows trying to find the whereabouts of Kush, she's still trying to call him but his phone remains off. Who knows where he must've gone to after the robbery?! He seems to have just done a disappearing act. But Kat isn't one to just hang around and do nothing, as she grabs her coat, she informs Stacey that she's going off to the police station to give her statement and then she's going to try and find Kush. If the police haven't got him then he must be somewhere?!

Meanwhile, Callum looks absolutely lost. He's seems to be in a world of his own as he tends to his busted lip. As Ben walks in, they begin to discuss how the whole situation has turned into such a mess. Callum informs his boyfriend that he really didn't have a choice but to let Kush go, considering he'd threatened to take down Ben with him if he got caught. Ben then speaks his opinion that Kush should remain missing, he seems to be believe that they would've gotten away with the robbery if Kush hadn't set off the silent alarm - however things seems to take an interesting turn here, Callum then reveals to his boyfriend that there actually wasn't a silent alarm, and the other reason the police turned up was because they received an anonymous 999 call. Ben seems to look deeply concerned, but does he have an idea as to who grassed them up?! Wait till he finds out that it was his brother!!

At the laundrette, Max walks in on Linda drawing up some new ideas for her business idea. She shows Max her rough copies of the new superhero's she's made, and of course - Max is really impressed and suggest that she should post them online. Once again I'm sensing more flirtation between the two, they suggest bringing their children together for a playdate and perhaps modelling some outfits that Linda has designed, but it's just so blatantly obvious that Linda is flirting when she suggests having an adult in on the modelling too to be pose with the children. They share a giggle as Sharon enters the building, oooh Sharon knows she has walked in on something! Both Linda and Max act very coy when she asks if she's interrupting something, Linda reveals to her friend that Max is helping with her business idea for the Lucy Beale Award. Sharon knows that Max is up to no good, the last thing she wants is for Max to break up another marriage! What do you think, are Linda and Max just good friends? Or do you fear that something is going to happen between the two and they'll cross the line?!

In the Cafe, Tiffany is informing her husband that both Rainie and Stuart haven't been in touch with her for a while since she agreed to be their surrogate, however once Keegan notices that she's had her phone on "Airplane Mode", loads of messages seem to come through once she's taken it off. I mean, of course Stuart and Rainie are going to be in touch with her as much as they can, it's the excitement of being one step closer to becoming parents. Suddenly they make their way into the Cafe and insist on buying Tiffany breakfast, however in stead of buying a lovely full English Breakfast, Rainie brings up a plate of salad to her - I mean, I get she wants her to be healthy so she'll be able to look after their baby okay, but something tells me it would start being a bit of an insult if she starts telling her what to eat and what not to eat. Tiffany and Keegan can both see this is going to be a really long journey for them.

Out on the Square, Ian appears to be dressed in his finest as he gives an interview for the Walford Gazette newspaper. I'm unsure what that interview is for, possibly for his public image? Or wanting to get the word out that the Vic is now under new management. He's one again gloating to this news crew that if it wasn't for him, the Queen Vic would've hit rock bottom with sales, business, etc. However, unfortunate for Ian, Tina is stood behind him listening to every word he's saying. It's interesting how many people he's really beginning to annoy and how many people are/will have it in for him. As Tina walks away after hearing him insult her family, Suki approaches and acknowledges how happy she is that someone as up-standing as Ian is getting the recognition he deserves, of course she's only saying that because they've come to an agreement of some kind. I do have a feeling that things aren't going to continue going well for Mr. Beale.

Returning to the Mitchell household, Kat pays them a visit an informs Callum that she's been down the statement having to give a false statement. She informs the young police officer that he didn't drop him in it but she knows full well that he let Ben off, she demands to know where Kush is, if anyone would know, he would, right?! Callum informs Kat that he has no idea of the whereabouts of Kush, its then he also drops the bombshell that he did find Kush during the robbery, but Kush ended up punching him and fleeing the scene. Kat can't believe that Kush would punch Callum, but he informs her that it's probably best if Kush stays hidden for the time being, as he not also took part in a robbery, he also assaulted a police officer, so maybe he is just lying low.

At the Atkins household, Phil is questioning Gray whether they'll be any issues in changing the licence plates on the cars. But Shirley reassures her boss that the paper work needs to be absolutely spot on, which is why Gray is doing the paperwork and Phil isn't! Interesting, there seems to be a lot of people who are in-the-know about this robbery. It's amazing how none of them have grassed any of them up, well of course except for Ian. But there's Kat, Stacey, Phil, Shirley, Ben, Callum, Kush, Gray, Sharon ... (Well maybe she doesn't know about the burglary but she's felt comfortable about giving Phil a false alibi?!) As Phil leaves the property, Tina arrives back and it's clear to see that she is seething over Ian's insults to her family and his attitude towards them and the Vic. Tina pleads to her sister that they attempt to get the pub back in their name, but Shirley reminds Tina that Linda is still an alcoholic, that was the reason they sold up in the first place. But Tina seems to believe that Linda is doing a lot better recently, she explains that since they sold the pub, Mick hasn't been the same, he seems to be so unhappy and lost. Could there be a way for the Carter's to win back the pub?! Is the pub really in Ian's name or Sharon's name? As Ian has always said that he bought the pub for Sharon, but who's name is really on the lease of the building?!

Returning to the Vic, Linda is informing her best friend about application for the Lucy Beale Award. It's nice to see Linda looking more positive and happy about her future prospects, but it's clear to see that Sharon is worried for her friend about getting too close to Max. As Linda is glowing with the excitement of a whole new beginning, Sharon voices her concerns about Max, but in a loving, friendly way that everything seems okay now between them, but if things go on it won't be long before Max will have his tongue down her throat. (However little does she know that they have already shared a kiss!) Linda reassures her friend that she wouldn't cheat on Mick and that she literally just sees Max as a mate. But Sharon has a good point, whilst Mick is away staying with Lee, it's understandable she's enjoying the attention but I'd hate to think she'd cheat on her husband whilst he was away, especially considering what he's been dealing with in recent weeks.

Meanwhile at the restaurant, Iqra is sat doing paperwork. Ian is stood behind the bar as Suki walks in, subtly she hands him over an envelope with half of the amount she promised him inside. Ian doesn't seem impressed and pulls Suki into the back for a private word, leaving the money on the bar counter. As he pulls Suki to one side he asks Iqra to watch the bar whilst they're in the back. Iqra is quite reluctant but once both Ian and Suki are out the back, Iqra starts to clean behind the bar, until she eventually comes across the envelope with the money inside it - instantly she's looking a little confused as to where this money has come from, but suddenly she begins to hear voices. Ian and Suki are both discussing their plan, Suki tells Ian that he won't receive the other half of the money until he has held up his end of the bargain and put things into paperwork and he has signed some kind of formal documents she needs, planning approval etc. Iqra is really shocked to have heard what she has, but what will she do with this information? Will she tell Ash what her Mother is really up to?! Or maybe will she help Tina in getting the Vic back in the Carter's name, knowing full well that Ian is up to some dodgy deals with Suki! Who knows?!

Back out on the Square, Whitney is seen leaving the Minute Mart as car sirens can be heard, slowly Ruby approaches from behind and they both watch in amazement as from across the Square, the police pull up the Slater household and barge their way in as they look for Kush. Stacey's voice can be heard objecting to them entering the house. Ruby voices her opinion that it doesn't surprise her that the police have come knocking at their door, however Whitney's response is more sympathetic, she questions that maybe the police have got the wrong house? But Ruby just laughs at Whitney's response and says that it wouldn't surprise her if they found something at the Slater household. Hmm, does Whitney know more than she's letting on?! Why would she be so quick to defend the Slater's?!

At the Carter's household, Max once again is helping Linda with her costumes (Wow! Can I just say how big baby Abi has grown?! I know it sounds silly, but I still picture her as a little baby, not the toddler that she's become. Didn't realise it was that long ago that Abi Branning passed away! Only feels like a year or two ago - which may possibly be how old young Abi it?!) As Linda is eager to get the children in their superhero outfits, Max picks out one for Ollie to year, however Linda recalls that the one he picked was the one Mick made for him when Ollie was first diagnosed with Autism. You can see a slight look of sadness as she mentions how Mick didn't want their son to feel different from everyone, so instead of different they made him feel special. When Max puts the superhero outfit away, Linda admits to him that it was actually Mick's idea to make their son a Superhero outfit. Is there a sense of guilt between them now that Mick hasn't been brought into the idea of superhero clothes for children?! Or the fact that they're feeling guilty for spending a lot of time together and have quite visibly been flirting with one another? Who knows?!

Meanwhile, Iqra has found her way to the Prince Albert, unfortunately she doesn't seem to be listening fully to Tina as her head is replaying what she's overheard from Ian and Suki. Tina is voicing how much she's going to miss living with her and Ash, but she understands that her moving out would help Iqra and Ash spend some time together. However, Iqra feels trapped in a corner as she admits to Tina that she can't stand Ash's family. I have to say I really do like the friendship between Tina and Iqra, I did kind of wish that they were a couple instead of Iqra and Ash. Anyway Iqra finds it in herself to confide in Tina and reveals everything that she witnessed, Suki giving Ian some money in return for some approval on a planning application. Tina tells Iqra that she's got to tell someone, she knows full well how dodgy Ian is being at the moment. Iqra pleads to her not to tell anyone, especially considering the fact the Iqra can't tell her own girlfriend that her Mum is up to something. But what will Tina do with this information? Will she find a way of getting her own back on Ian herself?!

Back at the Carter household, Max and Linda are enjoying taking pictures of their children in Linda's new children's superhero outfits. Only things take a slight U-turn when Max comments that they both make a good team. I think Linda maybe feels a little uncomfortable with his comment, he thanks Max for all his help but expressions her opinion that once they're done he should leave. Only when Linda begins to take photo's of Ollie with the flash on her phone, it frightens the poor boy and he attempts to hide underneath the kitchen table with his hands over his eyes. Linda apologises to her son and tries to coax him out but to no avail, Max then decides to take it upon himself to try and gain the little boy's trust. He gets down to his level and squeezes underneath the table, softly he speaks to the little boy and after suggesting that they build a den after taking their photographs, the little boy removes his hands from his face, much to Linda's surprise. Eventually Max persuades little Ollie to get up and join in with taking photographs, to which Linda is incredibly thankful.

Back on the Square, Tiffany and Keegan are approaching the chippy (Yum! Everyone loves a chippy, right?!) As Keegan orders himself some food, Tiffany feels a bit gutted that she's having to stay healthy. As she's voicing her frustration, Stuart appears from behind and informs her that he's managed to go to the chemist and pick up some vitamins for her. He pulls out about 3 or 4 different tube bottles full of pills and Tiffany is looking pretty overwhelmed with this new information that she's having to take pills as well as eat healthily. However it looks as if enough is enough when Stuart asks her to start taking them that day, she understands that they want the baby to be healthy but she assures Stuart that she wouldn't let anything happen to their child once its in her womb. Stuart seems to understand, he apologises for coming on so heavy, its nice that they have come to acknowledge each other's understanding, Tiffany tells him politely that she's more than happy to carry their child for them, but it does not mean that they can start telling her what she can and can't do, and in all fairness - Stuart completely agrees and announces that they'll do it Tiffany's way, to which she then responds with happily ordering something from the chippy.

Once again, returning to the Carter household, Ollie and Abi are both playing happily together as they wind down after their photoshoot. Linda is sat with Max as they look over the photographs they've taken. This scene did get me a little worried as I sensed something, once again, was going to happen between the two. Max brings up the fact that he's trying to be supportive to Linda considering he was with her the last time she had a drink, he doesn't want her to feel that she's got no one to talk to, but regardless of them spending time together, he admits that he knows that she and Mick are solid. It's then Linda seems to look upset and reveals to Max that things haven't exactly been brilliant between them recently, she explains that each time she tries she feels she's just pushing him further and further away. Perhaps this is why she's been enjoying Max's company so much, it's made her feel something again - I mean when was the last time, Mick and Linda actually had a laugh with each other and showed each other some affection? It's been a long time, hasn't it?! Max seems to understand but he makes the big confession that the only reason he kissed her a while back is because he wanted to, and more interestingly, he stills wants to! Things are looking as if they are going to pounce on each other, however Ollie breaks the silence as he asks for his Mummy. As Linda goes to see her to son, Max suggests that they make another play date for their children, to which Linda coldly responds by saying she'll text him.

Back at the Slater household, Kat answers her mobile which is ringing on the kitchen table, it appears to be Stacey on the other end. She informs her cousin that she's been desperately trying to search for her boyfriend but can't find him anywhere. Suddenly, there's a knock on the backdoor and Kat is surprised to see Whitney stood there. It's then Whitney announces that there's something she needs to show her, pretty urgently and they both leave the house together. Meanwhile in the Vic, Ian is feeling positive about his interview with the newspaper, even though he is looking incredibly happy with himself, the fella from the newspaper seems less than impressed as he downs his bottle of beer. Across the bar, both Callum and Ben are trying to talk about something other than the robbery. Oh but just by coincidence, as soon as Ben questions whether Callum can trace who dialled the 999 call, Ian is stood behind the bar ear-wigging on their conversation. However Callum is unsure whether the call will be able to be traced, but then again the only thing they'll find out is that it was made from a telephone box. Maybe Ian did a clever thing for once and made sure he dialled from a phone box and not a mobile phone, that way it would be harder for them to trace?! Suddenly Tina enters the Vic and makes her way toward the bloke from the newspaper. Ooooh I'm liking the look of this!!! She questions whether he's writing an article about Ian Beale, but the bloke doesn't seem interested if she's going to comment on how much of a aspect to the community he is, but then his attention in instantly grabbed as Tina admits that that is not what's doing, she mentions that if he really wants a story then she has one for him. Ooooh - I'm loving this! Yes! GO TINA!!! Is she going to spill what Iqra has informed her about and portray Ian in a terrible light?! In all seriousness, it's more than what he deserves! Only the downside is, will it fall back onto Iqra and will she get the blame?!

Eventually Kat makes it to what looks like Whitney's attic, she's questioning why Whitney has brought her up there, only as she turns around, Kush is seen sat in the very far corner, almost looking scared and very sheepish. Kat is absolutely elated to find her boyfriend is safe and sound, she announces how worried she's been about him, but Kush is nothing but deeply apologetic for making such a mess of things. He's tries to explain how he thought he would be able to start the car and how things just turned so messy. Kat is just happy to see that Kush is safe, she promises him that they will sort everything out together.

At Ruby's club, Linda is sat alone with a drink, Ruby enters the room carrying a huge box of wine. It looks as if Linda is feeling sorry for herself, she seems very agitated when Ruby politely asks if she's okay. Whether she's waiting for someone or something else. Linda then voices that everyone around her sees her not as Linda anymore, but Linda The Alcoholic! Ruby tries to persuade her that that isn't the case at all, she tries to explain that she has lots of friends and family around her who are just trying to look out for her. She questions whether she should all Mick, but Linda snaps back that he isn't her carer, he's her husband. She also makes sure to point out to Ruby that the drink she's got in her hand is only orange juice, nothing else! But Ruby is quick to throw in one last dig, she knows that she's drinking a soft drink, as she explains that all her staff have a list of who not to serve alcohol to, and it turns out that Linda's name is right at the very top of that list! Honestly, that's a bit of a big insult, I think that would hurt anyone really wouldn't it?! As Ruby leaves the room, Linda takes it upon herself to approach the box of wine which she's left at the bar and swipes a bottle before leaving. Once she's home, she's sat alone with the bottle and a glass already poured, to me it looks like that she really can't take Mick's behaviour anymore, she's feeling lonely, unwanted and maybe also missing her husband as well as missing their happiness and intimacy. She attempts to call him but to no avail as it the dial tone rings dead, I did fear at this point that she was going to take a big gulp of wine. She brings the glass up to her face and she gently smells the wine, she then plonks the glass back down and dials another number - Max! She agrees to go along with the playdate for the children for the following day, but something else is telling me, is she doing it for the company. If Mick isn't around then why not have Max's attention. I do thing as things go on, something will happen between the two, what do you think? Feeling a little more relieved she gets up and throws the glass of wine and the bottle down the sink!

A very interesting episode I have to say, some very interesting things taking place, I mean I do feel a lot of it will come to some form of explosion within the next few days. I do feel that all this that's happening right now will be the drama that's all going to explode coming towards Christmas! Christmas is only a month away and it's not going to be long now until huge secrets are revelled and big bombshells are going to be dropped. EastEnders is always explosive at Christmas, right?! I, for one, am incredibly excited to see it all unfold! Thank you all for reading, I'll be back again tomorrow with another blog. Enjoy the rest of your evening folks! Love you all xXx

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luna-minerva · 4 years

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This is very random, but for some reason my brain just reminded me of this pet peeve of mine and I need to say something.

Despite my OTP being canon (Romione FTW!), I am by no means a big fan of the HP epilogue: it was way too predictable and safe, the time jump was too big, the actual writing feels weird and a bit out of place, it implies a couple of things I really don’t care for (e.g. Ron tells Harry about the driver licence exam in a way that implies they are not in contact almost daily and THAT’S BS), Albus Severus is a terrible name, and I could go on and on.

(It was worse early on, then with time I learned how to tolerate it.)

I say this because I get it when people complain about the epilogue, even though they might be doing it for different reasons (they were rooting for other pairings, etc.).

There is one particular argument that drives me mad though: still to this day I see people complaining about the epilogue saying that “everybody got married to their high school sweetheart” and that irks me sooo much - you guys do realize that there’s only one (1) magic school in the whole of the UK and Ireland, right?? No fucking shit wizards and witches tend to get married to people they were in school with! We know that marriages with muggles happen relatively infrequently, and I assume only a fraction of the people end up abroad (which is what basically happens irl). And there are actually more than a few exceptions in the Golden Trio generation (Cho marrying a muggle, Bill marrying Fleur, also maybe Luna with Rolf?).

I have absolutely no idea why I just felt the need to go on this mini-rant when HP hasn’t really been on my mind recently (thanks JKR!!! Great work at alienating your fanbase!!!), but I’m glad I got it off my chest lol.

#harry potter #rant post #this is pointless tbh #romione #hp epilogue

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davidmann95 · 4 years

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All-Star Superman #2

A scant year to the day since part 1!

All evidence to the contrary I actually have always wanted to go back to this, especially since I keep getting asked if I’ll do so and it stirs my omnipresent sense of guilt over my lack of productivity, and also the last year has not resulted in a mass turnaround of people realizing it’s a for-real good book and not just comfort food so this remains necessary. This isn’t going to be quite as in-depth as the first go-around - both that as the introductory issue and that as the introductory recap had a lot of groundwork to lay - but still plenty to cover, as this issue sets up Lois and Superman’s arcs for the series, which is rooted (amazingly, especially right off the bat, given the book’s reputation of being about how amazing Superman is) in how badly Superman’s let his fears and shortsightedness poison the most important relationship in his life.

If the first issue is the big classic Superman material - Superman saving the day from the monster! Lois and Clark and the rest of the Daily Planet crew! Lex Luthor’s sinister schemes! A ticking clock to doom! - this scales all the way down to the uncomfortably, stiflingly intimate. Classic archetypal Superman stuff gives way to the most Silver Age issue: casual huge ideas, relationship drama, misunderstandings, last-minute reveals that recontextualize the entire issue, and baaaarely latent psychodrama bubbling up at the edges. In service of that the visual framing here is not unlike a stage play, a limited set of physically connected locales as a pair of figures bounce off one another. Quitely and Grant’s work is therefore comparatively subdued next to issue #1, keeping to traditional panel layouts and wide or medium shots with a background color palate of mostly blacks and whites and grays with a handful of other colors popping out...until Lois starts to lose her shit at the end of the issue and we get close-ups and full black and white panels and eerie glowing and dutch angles and that unsettling abstract image of her clenched teeth, as the story starts to squeeze us like Lois’s gut.

She’s right to be unsettled for that matter; she’s alone on Superman’s turf (the one issue where that’s the case other than #6, and that one’s about how Smallville stopped being his home), the weird antiseptic alien lair of the ultimate super-hobbyist, and all the baggage of their relationship is spilling out into the open as she has less and less reason to think the best of this odd man who’s been lying to her for years. Unlike the Silver Age tales this is referencing, she’s absolutely on the money with her complaints about him: he’s been dicking around with her forever and thinks it can all be okay now (His little “What?” on the second page when she bursts his bubble says it all), and he’s awkwardly overcompensating trying to fix it.

While the Fortress tour serves to peacefully acclimate us to how utterly bizarre Superman’s world really gets past the traditional rescues (the little cubic starfield we don’t know the meaning of yet, trophies are floating rather than physically suspended, the glowing flowers in Lois’s room, “The Phantom Zone map room’s pretty dull unless you can see radio-negative anti-waves”), Superman himself is...humblebragging isn’t the right way of putting it, but it feels like he’s working way, way harder than he ever will again in this book to be cool and impressive and assuring. He’s a dope in love, but he can tell something’s up and that super-brain of his isn’t putting the obvious pieces together, or noticing that this is just putting her off further and further until, like Bluebeard’s wife before her, she stumbles through the threshold of the door she was never meant to, even of course in the end he’s still Superman and there’s a perfectly good reason. Not a good enough reason, however, for her accusations at dinner to not hit home - his mind may be expanding, but he’s still way up his own ass here in a genuinely unpleasant way that’ll be elaborated on momentarily. For now he’s left stammering that she should trust him and it’s limp and phony, especially compared to his big entreaty for someone to trust him in #10 (which’ll be right after he finally comes clean with her); while Superman may not be considered a savior figure by his friends in here the way he often is in the mainline comics Lois seems to be the only one who doesn’t look up to him at least a little bit, but that clarity means she’ll call him out where no one else will.

Across the next two pages it’s all laid out, and we get to the roots of where things have gone wrong between the two of them. Lois is paranoid, certainly, the panels are literally squeezing in on her, but with Superman seeming so out-there and alien like never before she would have every right to be even sans alien chemicals. But notably there remains throughout a part of her assuming the best of him wondering if maybe this is just another big misunderstanding or that he’s simply been mutated by the solar overexposure. And in her heart of hearts, she admits that maybe she wants this to be another big damn trick with a completely sensible justification, because the alternative is that this is the new normal and she has to accept that he’s a flawed mortal man. It’s ugly and it’s mean - especially since she likes Clark - and it’s human as hell in the worst, most understandable way. It’s not going to be until said mortality is staring her in the face that she’ll be able to accept it.

Superman, meanwhile...someone could write a thesis on these panels as an articulation of the Superman/Clark dynamic. The Mirror of Truth is actually preexisting, centerpiece of a Jerry Siegel/Curt Swan joint in Action Comics #269 that was later adapted into the Superman newspaper strip where Lois uses it to figure out Superman is Clark Kent until he tricks her into believing the mirror can lie, after which he tosses it in a volcano; here it’s survived, and curiously shows him as Superman rather than Clark, when in the original tale it displayed Kent even though that was fully the era of Clark as a disguise. In here too it’s Superman who’s the ‘true’ identity of the two and which this time is reflected in the mirror, yet as in #1 it’s Clark who says what he’s truly feeling. In that light, the final panel of the abandoned glasses reads like nothing so much as Superman using the mirror as affirmation that the truth of the solemn, steadfast Superman identity gives him licence to deny the uncomfortable emotions his squishy human farmboy side is dredging up, ‘lying’ to him in a way he had to fake in the source material. Those emotions however knock right on the door of what he can’t grasp here: Clark’s so wrapped up in his own head trying to do the ‘right’ thing that he’s overlooking how his attempts at self-sacrificing selflessness are hurting the people around him. Throughout the series he’ll come to rely on others, first at his lowest points with Jimmy and the Bizarros, until at last he comes to invest true trust in Lois, and the Kandorians, and Leo Quintum, and even Lex.

For now though Lois is deep in a hole, a brief but memorable meeting with the Unknown Superman of 4500AD - everything Superman seems to be becoming to her even before she wonders if it’s literally him, cryptic and masked and with a big ‘ol question mark right on his chest instead of the familiar comforting logo, even his gutbuster of a question reinforcing his distance from a recognizable human experience - leading her all the way to reimagining her Silver Age ideal happy ending of marriage and family with Superman as a Cronenbergian horror. It’s still a Superman story, it turns out he had the very best reason possible for wanting to keep her in the dark, but right through to the end he remains just a little condescending in his reassurance, and his gift of essentially bringing her up to his ‘level’ isn’t going to solve the problem. While the next issue lets us see the two of them properly in love, it won’t be until the elephant in the room comes out that they can come to terms.

Additional notes

* God Quitely is so good. Look at the way the seatbelt curves in the first panel! Lois’s bemused little disbelieving smirk!

* Pages 2-3: Aurora Borealis?!

* Lois is the only character other than Superman who gets to have actual narration (in both cases as looks at their in-text writing), the only one whose viewpoint is thus privileged in the same way as his.

* The key is the realization of this series’ aesthetic in a nutshell: the old-school idea in a sleek, shiny, clever new way that doesn’t take away from the fantastical toyeticness of it all. For that matter, the key is the centerpiece of a later bit with Superman that could be fairly described as the long-term goal of the book book as Morrison’s hoped-for perennial: “One day some future man or woman will open that door, with that key. When they do, I want them to know how it felt to live at the dawn of the age of superheroes.”

* This is A. The first note of a larger DC universe existing offscreen, something that I’ll go into more when discussing #8, B. A brilliant, concise, fun little summation of his place in Superman’s world, and C. Absolutely hilarious given Morrison suggested in his exit interview that this could be seen as much later on in the same universe as All-Star Batman & Robin The Boy Wonder, which entirely rewrites the tone of that moment.

* Already discussed the key but the muscles in Superman’s hand tensing a bit at picking it up is another great detail.

* The glimpse of the Fortress here is excellent: the statues of his friends and enemies instead of pictures because he does things bigger with the yellow electric something crackling at the end of it, the off-model but curious-looking robot appearing to glance at Kandor (are it and the bigger robot with the seats on top of it trophies, or Superman Robots with different designs tasked for specific purposes?), the classic Bad Penny Good For One Crime, the Legion time bubble that establishes his time-traveling credentials for later, the Titanic where he and Lois will dine when their relationship hits a proverbial iceberg, and most strikingly the space shuttle Columbia, his apparent rescue of which I have to imagine is a reference to Astro City’s Superman analogue Samaritan debuting by averting the Challenger disaster.

* It’s next issue that has my actual favorite Superman/Lois moment of all time, but “When we’re married fifteen years, when I’m sagging and he looks just the same, will he still meet me and say things like...” “These are for you. I picked them on Alpha Centauri 4.” is right up there.

* The technological aesthetic of the Fortress is so different than P.R.O.J.E.C.T., sleek and solid and cleanly-lit and antiseptic, beautiful and advanced but a little cold in its own way. As stuffed with wonder as this place may be, there’s something hauntingly empty about it, suiting both the tone of the issue and as a physical embodiment of Superman’s emotional state. The one part that goes against it is the forbidden room, it even has beakers and test tubes to sell the mad scientist vibe...though if you were to stretch it, it much more close resembles the human technology seen at P.R.O.J.E.C.T., and this is meant as a gift for one.

* The cosmic anvil made it along with the key into the CWverse, Lois used it in Elseworlds! I may not be expecting All-Star quality from the upcoming Superman and Lois, but it’s good to know the powers that be are using it as a reference point (beyond how it inspired Supergirl’s take on Cat Grant, a connection I discussed in a post that seems to have vanished into thin air). The whole page is perfect, Superman at his most joyfully benign and beautiful and godlike; it’s the one bit where Lois’s skepticism cracks a touch watching him feed his adorable little Lovecraftian abomination from beyond the stars.

* While he never appears physically aside from a statue Brainiac hovers over this series from beginning to end in name and deed, the ominous ultimate enemy of Superman’s past, the great trial overcome even as the scars forever remain. Morrison mentioned in the exit interview that he didn’t appear in here because he and Quitely already used him as the villain of JLA: Earth 2, but that if he had it would have borrowed Superman: The Animated Series’ take on him as a Kryptonian AI gone rogue. Personally I like his place in here as-is, a little totem parallel to the Justice League references indicating the breadth of Superman’s history between putting on the cape and Luthor’s final scheme.

* A pair of minor notes: Lois points at Superman with the pointy fork when asking him pointed questions, and while it’s not immediately clear on first read she does in fact ask the Unknown Superman exactly 3 questions (“Kal Kent?” “Will Superman and I ever marry and have children?” “What do you mean?”) before he replies with his own, as promised.

* “Oww.” and “Tickles.” literally could not be more perfect Superman moments.

* Worth taking a moment to marvel at just how many future plot elements are seeded here. There’s the obvious bit of Superman thinking about having a partner setting up the next issue, but we also for issue #6 have our first look at Kal Kent and Lois wondering “What if (the Unknown Superman) was really (Superman)?” when Clark will indeed pose as him, for #10 we get our first look at Qwewq, and for #11 not only is the Sun-Eater introduced but so is Robot 7′s malfunction as a result of Luthor’s tampering.

* The structure of the series according to Morrison is a solar cycle, beginning and ending at midday with nightfall in the center. If last issue was the sun at its brightest we begin the descent here, with Superman remaining larger-than-life and ultimately trustworthy but with his classic persona and habits held to an additional, unflattering degree of scrutiny.

#All Star Superman #Superman #Lois Lane #Grant Morrison #Frank Quitely #Jamie Grant #Phil Balsman #Art #Silver Age #Clark Kent #Batman #All Star Batman & Robin the Boy Wonder #Fortress of Solitude #Astro City #DCTV #Brainiac #Opinion #Analysis

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babyatm1 · 4 years

Text

What Makes A Will Legal?

Residential Property You Should Not Include In Your Will

Content

If You Don'T Wish To Use A Lawyer

Indication Your Will In Front Of Witnesses.

To Determine Who Will Care For Your Minor Children

Secret Files To Have Together With Your Last Will As Well As Testament.

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Making Older Individuals'S Voices Heard.

Total An Inheritance Tax Type.

Using A Lawyer To Compose Your Will

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If You Don'T Intend To Utilize A Lawyer

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Since Buddhists also turn down agenthood, the standard compatibilist methods are closed to them also. Rather, the Buddhist thoughtful approach is to take a look at the metaphysics of origin. Old India had several warmed arguments concerning the nature of causality with Jains, Nyayists, Samkhyists, Cārvākans, and Buddhists all taking somewhat various lines. In numerous ways, the Buddhist placement is more detailed to a concept of "conditionality" than a theory of "origin", particularly as it is stated by Nagarjuna in the Mūlamadhyamakakārikā.

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Check in to get going By checking in, I am signing up for get Canstar's Rate Checker e-mails as well as Home Loans e-newsletter. Specify-- for example, do not simply leave everything to 'my spouse'-- utilize your better half's complete name. The basic message is-- just utilize a Do It Yourself will if your desires are really straightforward and also your financial circumstance isn't complicated. If you live with your partner, yet are neither married nor in a civil collaboration, you might wish to take into consideration creating a common-law marriage agreement in addition to writing a will. While a will establishes what takes place to your possessions as well as items when you pass away, a common-law marriage agreement define what happens if your partnership breaks down-- so a bit like a will for the living.

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If this intuitive photo became incorrect, after that presumably that we can not legitimately be held ethically in charge of our actions. Besides, if I do not have free will in a feeling that involves alternate possibilities, after that I have to pick what I really pick. And also if I have to choose what I perform in reality select, then probably I am compelled so to select, and can not rather be considered morally responsible for my selection. It is extremely possible, after that, to accept something like the "Concept of Different Possibilities", according to which a representative is morally responsible for an action only if he could have done otherwise. If is true, then moral duty needs free choice; and if causal determinism dismiss such different opportunities, it would therefore dismiss ethical obligation.

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In Buddhism it is shown that the concept of absolute liberty of option is ill-advised, since it denies the reality of one's physical needs as well as situations. Just as wrong is the concept that people have no option in life or that their lives are pre-determined. To reject flexibility would be to reject the initiatives of Buddhists to make moral progress. Pubbekatahetuvada, the idea that all happiness as well as experiencing emerge from previous activities, is thought about an incorrect sight according to Buddhist teachings.

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Trick Files To Have Alongside Your Last Will And Testimony.

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signed by the proprietor of the will and be seen by 2 individuals. " If you utilize an online will package, get it examined by a lawyer or Public Trustee," economic regulatory authority ASIC's Moneysmart.com.au web site states, which adds that a solicitor or Public Trustee are most likely to bill you for doing so.

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Nonetheless, the hope is that many will see this as a chance to aid their preferred cause. The advocate of PAP believes that the lack of the flexibility to choose or else does not by itself explain the lack of moral duty. see this page is because he thinks that when this absence acquires, its getting is itself discussed by, and can only be described by, the event of causal determinism in the actual series of events. The Concept of Alternate Possibilities and also the Frankfurt-type Instances. As I recommended above, we normally think that the future is a garden of forking courses-- that we a minimum of at some essential points in our lives have more than one path branching into the future.

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As soon as this impression is revealed, one's initial conviction that the absence of an alternate choice is sufficient for the lack of ethical duty is vindicated. There can be two various ways in which some variable makes a representative unable to select or do or else. In one way, the factor does not play a role in the actual sequence; it does not flow with the real program of occasions. In one more means, the element does move through the actual series.

#Making a will #Will writing services #How to make a will #Fixed Fee Will Writing #Online Will Writing #Will Aid #Will Writing Specialist #will template #how to write a simple will #will writing services near me #legal will #online will #family will #simple will #how to end a will

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onthesandsofdreams · 4 years

Note

Fictober 30 - Steve x Diana

Prompt number: 30. “I’m with you, you know that.”Fandom: Wonder Woman (Post- Movie)Pairing: Steve x DianaRating: GWarnings/Tags: Mentions of War & Temporary Character Death

In Dreams. Read @ AO3

Diana feels a bit lost after defeating Ares. She’s done the job she had set herself out to do, but navigating the fallout is far more difficult than what she had imagined. Even with the help of Etta, Charlie, Sameer and Napi, she misses Steve keenly.

Diana remains in London after the war. It’s Etta who offers a room in her house, and it’s also Etta who comes up with a solution for Diana’s lack of papers. Etta produces both a birth certificate and a marriage licence.

“I’m not sure about this,” Diana says, clearly uncomfortable with the lies. ��It’s not that I’m not grateful, but it feels wrong.”

“I know honey,” Etta pats Diana’s hand in a comforting manner. “But you will need identification now, and well, now you’ll have it and it will help with your life here now.”

“Thank you Etta.”

And that had been that. Etta had also helped Diana get a job alongside her, with Diana’s gift of languages, she had been welcomed with open arms. And life proceeded quite nicely along.

*****

Then it happened one night. Diana bid Etta good night and goes to bed, sleep comes easier than normal, and she dreams. She dreams of a forest, completely surrounded by mist. Diana can barely distinguish the trees and there’s not much visibility, then she hears some footsteps.

“Diana,” A voice she knows and has missed calls out to her.

“Steve?” Her own voice is shaky, tentatively hopeful. “Is that you?”

Then Diana watches as Steve Trevor emerges from the mist. As young and as handsome as she saw him last. There’s no wounds on him, no scarring that would hint at the manner of his death.

Steve gives her a wide grin, “Hey Diana. It’s me.”

“Oh Steve!” Diana rushes to him and wraps her arms around him. Steve’s presence is solid in her arms as she feels him wrap his arms around her. “I miss you so.”

“So do I,” Steve says and then kisses the top of Diana’s head. “But I am here now, even if it’s only in your dreams.”

“How? How is it possible?”

“Your uncle, apparently.” Steve says in an amused tone of voice. “You know, Hades. He’s letting me come and visit you in your dreams. But I had to wait a bit.”

Diana’s eyes widen in surprise and her jaw open falls a little. “Hades?!”

“Yup,” Steve is still smiling at her. “Apparently a thank you for Ares.”

“Praise Hades, then. I am grateful that I can have you here, even if it’s only in my dreams. I am glad that he didn’t take you away from me, at least not entirely!”

“No, and I’m going to be here for you. As much as I can.”

Diana kisses him with all the love she has for him and he kisses her back. They don’t let go of each other and spend the rest of the time they have together talking. They talk until Diana’s vision begins to blur.

“You must be waking up,” Steve informs her.

“I don’t want to go just yet.” Diana says.

“Love, I won’t be going anywhere. I’ll see you again, quite soon in fact. So go, live your life and then tell me about it.”

With that, Diana’s vision goes black and she wakes with tears on her face. But she still smiles, knowing she can talk to Steve and that he is not completely lost to her. She lives.

*****

“I was thinking of changing my line of work,” Diana says during one meeting with Steve. “A museum, I’d like to do that.”

“It would suit you,” Steve agrees. “And there’s no more wars to worry about.”

“Indeed. And spy work is not something I want to do.”

“Understandable.”

With Steve’s encouragement and Etta’s blessing, Diana gets a job in the Victoria & Albert Museum. She relishes the change, even if it’s only to file archives, she has to start somewhere and honest work is good work.

*****

“How’s Etta doing?”

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you about it. She’s dating this really lovely woman, quietly of course - I still don’t understand why they can’t love publically - and she’s very happy.”

Steve gives her a sad smile, “They should be able to, they’re not doing anyone any harm. But I’m glad to hear she’s happy.”

“Yes, I hope the day comes when people can love who they love without shame or repercussions. The suffragettes are still fighting for the vote, and I have marched with them on occasion.”

“Good on you Diana, keep fighting the good fight.”

“Thank you Steve.”

*****

“Napi has gone back to the States, said that he had work to do there.”

“Must miss it,” Steve smiled sadly. “I would’ve thought he’d remain in Europe. But home calls, I guess.”

“Charlie’s back in Scotland, he still doesn’t know what he’s going to do, but he also wanted out of the army.”

“Good for him,” Steve agreed. “He should take care of himself.”

“Sameer is traveling, he’s not sure what he’s going to do. So he’s traveling to see what to do.”

“Well, I hope he finds something. I know how it can be, to be a bit lost without direction.”

*****

And so time passed, Steve and Diana met each other in dreams. They spoke about life - or in Steve’s case - his previous life. And then.

“There’s another war brewing,” Diana spoke with a heavy heart. “Germany is being led by a horrid man, I’ve been hearing lots of talk of a war. People are trying to prevent it, but… I feel like it’s useless.”

Steve had been silent. “I am sorry Diana, I wish there was anything I could do to help you.”

“I killed Ares and now I feel like it was for nothing. But if war starts, I will fight again, I won’t abandon this world. I just wish I understood the need for it.”

“Because men make choices,” Steve said smiling sadly. “And some of those choices are terrible for many, good for few. Humanity is too complicated.”

“I know that now,” Diana responded. “I just wish war would not come at all.”

*****

“The things they were doing,” Diana sobs as Steve held her in his arms. “They were people! It was absolutely vile. The horrors they suffered, entire families gone and now… I have so much rage inside of me.”

“I know sweetheart,” Steve rocks her gently. “Your heart is far too kind and noble for you to turn away from helping others.”

“Thank you,” Diana gave him a watery smile. “For just holding me.”

“I love you. I don’t want you to feel alone. Because you never are.”

*****

“I’m moving to Paris.” Diana says after the war is over. “I’m thinking of trying for a job there.”

“Paris sounds nice,” Steve agrees, head on her lap. The sun shines in the meadow they found themselves in. “Great food.”

“Of course you’d mention the food,” Diana says with a laugh.

“Well, in my defense, I do miss it.”

Diana smiles down at Steve. “How come we always meet in places like these?”

Steve shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know. But as long as I can see you, I won’t complain.”

“Me either, I just found it curious.”

*****

The dreams keep coming and the years keep passing. Diana is happy to still have Steve in her life, in any way she can. So, she doesn’t question it, she enjoys the little grace Hades has given her.

And then she mourns. Charlie passes one day, she attends his funeral in Scotland, prays that Hades has mercy on him. She visits Etta and her friend is older and grey, and Diana’s heart clenches, because she now knows that sooner, rather than later, she will lose her and Sameer. Napi writes on occasion, but she doesn’t know about whether he’d live or pass on.

“Charlie’s gone,” Diana tells Steve.

“I’m sorry Diana.”

“And Etta and Sameer won’t be far behind.” There is sadness in her voice.

“That’s the life of a common man, Diana. We live, we grow old and pass on.”

“Time flew by and I barely noticed.”

Steve says nothing, just holds her close.

*****

In the blink of an eye, it’s 1958.

One night that Diana meets with Steve, he looks tired and sad. “What troubles you,” she asks him.

“Nothing much,” Steve says with care, voice calm and composed. “Only… something is happening Diana and I - I won’t be able to see you for a while.”

Diana’s head snaps up and looks at Steve with wide worried eyes. “What do you mean Steve?”

Steve fidgets and looks away. “Part of the deal with your uncle, is that I can’t tell you. But… I will be gone for a while. I’m sorry.” Steve holds her face in his hands. “I want you to know this: I’m with you, you know that.” Then he removes one of his hands and places it gently above her heart. “No matter what Diana, I am in your heart, be strong until we meet again.”

The next morning, Diana wakes up weeping.

*****

A month passes and then another and there’s no sign of Steve at all. Diana doesn’t dream about him, she weeps and begs to the Gods, but no answer ever comes. And Diana mourns Steve Trevor for a second time.

Time crawls slowly this time and Diana doesn’t know what to do. She has few friends from work, so she dedicates to work and to save people. Throws herself into both things with all her being.

Diana keeps living. She’s not sure how, but she does. When she least expects it, her laughs come easier, she rests better, she feels lighter. Life is better.

*****

It’s 1984 and there’s trouble in DC.

Diana sees the news of a woman calling herself Cheetah, she’s been wreaking havoc in DC and no one has been able to catch her.

So Diana takes leave of her job and books a flight to Washington. Once there, Diana begins making patrols at night, always careful, always on the lookout. Stops a couple of robberies, helps the people she can while she’s there.

But so far, no success in spotting Cheetah.

One morning, the phone in her room rings. “Hello?” She answers.

“Miss Prince,” The receptionist voice comes clear. “There’s someone in the lobby for you. Says his name is Steve Trevor.”

Diana freezes, it can’t be. Steve is dead and gone. “I’m going down,” she says and hopes the receptionist doesn’t notice her voice shaking.

“As you wish miss Prince, have a good day.”

Diana puts down the receiver with shaking hands. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. In the end, she just shook her head and walks out of her room. Time to face whomever was calling themselves Steve Trevor.

The elevator ride seems to go much too slow for her tastes. The doors open in several floors and Diana resists the urge to simply jump down from the stairs. And then they reach the lobby. She exits the elevator with her head held high. And there, standing tall and chatting with the receptionist, is a figure she knows too well.

It’s Steve. Her Steve.

“Steve?” Her own voice sounds strange in her ears.

The man turns and yes, without a shadow of a doubt, Steve Trevor is smiling at her. Bright blue eyes sparkle, the same smile she has missed, same blond hair. “Diana!”

Diana rushes towards him and Steve meets her in the middle. She holds onto him and feels a sob wreck through her. “You’re back,” her voice is shaking and tears are now falling freely. “Gods have mercy, you are back.”

“Yeah,” Steve’s voice is shaky also. “I’m here now love. Sorry to make you wait.”

Diana takes a step back and grabs Steve’s face. He’s crying too. “It doesn’t matter,” she says. “You’re here now, oh I missed you so.”

“I love you,” Steve says through his tears. “I love you so much and now, here we are. And now we have time.”

Diana chokes a laugh. “I love you too. And I’m glad you’re back. You’re not going to go away are you.”

“No,” Steve says gently. “I’m alive. I was reincarnated, I won’t leave your side anymore. Until I die again - hopefully of old age.”

“That is good to hear,” Diana smiles. “That is very good indeed.”

“So,” Steve winks at her. “How about a date?”

Diana beams at him. “Of course.”

Steve bows and offers his arm and Diana takes it. “Then, let us go and have some fun. And then you can tell me of everything that I missed.”

“And you must tell me everything. Counting my uncle is letting you, that is.”

Steve grins, “Oh, I can tell you now. I just couldn’t tell you before I came back and I had some restrictions, but now, we can be together. C'mon on, I hear there’s a good French bistro nearby and quite frankly, I miss French food.”

Diana laughs and follows Steve to the door of the hotel. Outside, the sun is shining and Diana thinks it has never been brighter.

#fictober19 #wondertrev #diana x steve #steve trevor #diana prince #wonder woman fic #post canon fic

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downtonabbeyrevisited · 5 years

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Series One - Episode Six

Episode Six of Seven is upon us but things don’t look like they are wrapping up any time soon. Many plot points are still dangling and becoming more intricate and it’s difficult to see how this will all be resolved within roughly 110 minutes. But now is not the time for thinking too carefully or rationally about things or else you’d never get through a whole episode of Downton without having a nervous breakdown.

Never knowingly under-cliched, Downton opens with a rabble of unruly northern commoners showing little capacity for nuanced political thought. In the middle of it all is a fascinated Sybil and frankly alarmed Branson. For a fan of Marx, Branson seems a little yellow at the realities of the political coal face whilst Sybil is ready to canvass the whole of the Yorkshire Dales if need be much to the horror of Lord Grantham. Despite the fact that Sybil makes it fairly clear that she wanted to be at the count, Robert heaps blame onto Branson for his daughter’s actions in a move that displays the very misogyny that Sybil is presumably keen to eradicate. Despite the “brouhaha”, Sybil bluffs her way into the count thereby dragging the “Irish radical” back into Robert’s ire.

King Julian has clearly been watching too much North and South and has decided to pursue the trope of ‘woman obtains laughably small head wound and collapses prompting romantic enlightenment in one or more other characters’. Upon Sybil’s return Robert predictably hits the roof despite Sybil and Mary’s protestations. Branson is left looking forlorn by the car, declaring that he is “a socialist but not a lunatic” and the rest of us wonder, why is it always so dark in Ripon?

Trouble is also brewing downstairs as Carson’s mystery letter almost makes him late for dinner. Lord Flincher’s contacts have been in touch regarding Mary’s entanglement with Turkish cultural attache Kamal. Cora maintains that “sometimes to deny these things is to throw paraffin onto the flames”: she has clearly been watching Tati Westbrook and has taken notes. Violet takes all this in surprisingly well and manages the social cover up and wistfully thinks about knocking off the Turkish ambassador, presumably using a different modus operandi than Mary used for the cultural attache but this is Downton Abbey, born of King Julian’s kaleidoscopic imagination so nothing is ever really ruled out as too bizarre a plot point.

William’s mother is introduced and at this late hour in the series, she will surely be dead before we can ever hope to form some kind of emotional connection with her and she can even obtain a face. William states that “there are no lies in our family” which of course means that the Mason family is an absolute hotbed of deception. None of Julian’s delicate foreshadowing techniques are not lost on me. With scant regard for medical ethics, Violet, Cora and Mary disagree about whether to inform William of his mother’s declining health. Mary eventually caves and hints that William should take a couple of days off showing a hitherto unseen streak of empathy.

The only character appearing to have anything near a nice time is Edith who bags herself Sir Anthony “any port in a storm” Strallan. Strallan drifts up the drive in his open Rolls Royce to a decidedly disinterested Mary but a very available Edith. One thing leads to another and before you can blink, Strallan is taking Edith for a spin, turning the steering wheel far too much as he does and making quips about burgeoning geopolitical tensions in Europe. The prospect of a concert in York can only mean that marriage for Edith is moments away. Just a shame for Edith that she’s in an ITV period drama and that clearly is not going to happen.

Winegate rumbles on with Bates slinging the first shot this episode, making a thinly veiled reference to Thomas’ political leanings and their potential correlation to the knicking of the odd bottle of red. Bates insists he doesn’t want anyone to lose their job which seems an odd thought to hold considering that all of this behaviour up to this point has hinted that he wants Thomas to have his comeuppance. In response to Bate’s apparent false threat, Thomas and O’Brein double down on their plotting this time drawing Daisy into their meddling. Carson looks unconvinced by the suggestion that Bates has been “handling the cellar key”. After the world’s shortest interrogation, Carson goes full Poirot (although the suggestion that he is even a little bit Belgian would probably send old Charlie into a spin) and brings in O’Brein, Daisy and Thomas to send Bates up the river. Fortunately for Bates, Daisy is clearly not cut out for a life on the dark side and later caves exonerating him.

But because John Bates is John Bates, his innocence doesn’t last long and he somewhat unnecessarily confesses that he was imprisoned as a thief. For whatever reason, Bates is in self-destruct mode. He is determined to paint himself in the worst light and refuse the love that is offered him, sort of like an Edwardian Remus Lupin. Later in Thomas’ usual smoking spot, we learn that two years have apparently passed since Bates arrival as Anna and Bates almost kiss to the accompaniment of suitably mournful strings. Nuance is not really Downton’s strong suit.

Romantic declaration of the moment

It turns out that all that Matthew had to do to win Mary’s favour was punch another man in the face. Suitably awkward dialogue precedes THE KISS as a nation rolls its eyes whilst Matthew and Mary crack on. Matthew makes swift work of things and proposes to Mary. Say what you like about Cousin Matthew, he is efficient.

Expressive eyebrow of the week

Only one contender for me this week and its Robert and his (over)reaction to Sybil’s trip to Ripon. If lasers had been invented, they would have been beaming out of his eyes at this point.

Wait, what?

��My problem is you!” I have lots of time for Dan Stevens but this was an appalling go at a tough guy. Sorry. Either that or it was brilliant acting, showing just how wet Matthew actually is even when he is defending the honour of a fair maiden. Bravo.

“I don’t know if I would have had the strength mentally or physically to carry a corpse the length of this house” Watching Violet do this would be worth the cost of the licence fee alone.

“I hope you go into politics, it’s a fine ambition”: Sybil seems determined to assign all of her father’s staff other jobs.

“We can’t have him assassinated, I suppose” Oh again, another potentially brilliant spin off lives and dies in a moment.

“Anna, you’re here to watch, not participate” Why? Why would you bring another member to staff to watch the dressing down of another? Some of the workplace practices in Downton leave much to be desired.

“Everyone goes down the aisle with half the story hidden” Turns out that some home truths are still as applicable in the twenty first century as they were in the twentieth.

“Why are all your causes so steeped in gloom?” You just know that Sybil would be Vegan if she were a millennial.

In other news, the dog finally lifted its head off the library floor. Hurrah!

#Downton #downton abbey #downton rewatch #Downton movie #downton abbey movie #anna bates #john bates #Matthew Crawley #sybil branson #thomas barrow #thomas branson #Mary Crawley #lady mary #william mason #sarah o'brien #Charles Carson #dan stevens #daisy mason

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evanpeaters · 5 years

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the nuptials ☽ pt 2.

TIME FRAME: 20th, September ‘19. LOCATIONS: Las Vegas, Nevada. DESCRIPTION: As a late birthday gift, Evan takes Billie to her favorite place for a day full of spontaneity...and drastic consequences.

Mentions: @goodlourd @emberts @sophiet-x @hqlawrence @hqgemma @joekcery

Evan: Evan couldn't remember the last time he'd had a night like this. Whole day, even. He'd spent the past year working himself to the bone until home seemed like the only feasible option afterward. He'd shut himself out from the world, and had become pretty closed off. What was worse, was how alone he had felt throughout - it was an awful time to get your ass dumped, but honestly, he couldn't blame Emma for being attracted to the light that someone else was offering her, and he needed to focus on himself before focusing on any sort of relationship. This vacation had been well needed. Not only was it Billie's birthday gift, but in a way, it felt like a gift to himself. Now he was well ready to head back to the hotel and pass the fuck out. "You want a piggy back, back to Caesars?" Evan offered, his own feet aching, so he dread to think about how hers were faring.

Billie: Billie thought for a moment, although she wasn’t really thinking at all, before agreeing with a quick nod and slipping off her shoes to put them into her bag so that they wouldn’t fall off in the process. She was pretty sure that any outsider looking in would think of them as a couple, and part of her didn’t mind the fact. It was fun to play pretend for one night before reality came knocking at the door and slammed them back into their own existential crises – the realities of breakups and loneliness and whatever the fuck else awaited them in LA. Hopping onto Evan’s back carefully, she wrapped her legs around him for security and just for a moment pressed her head against his, a silent little thank you for the piggy back and every thing else. This wasn’t the sort of thing she could make good with a thank you card, after all, it was so much more. “Onward! Mush!”

Evan: Her wordless appreciation was received, and if Evan wasn't...well, himself, he would've gone into some whole spiel about how he had wanted to treat her to something like this for a long time. For being unapologetically herself, despite everything, and one of the only people in his life he could truly depend on to get him out of any funk. She deserved it all, and maybe one day, he'd let her know he felt that way. Still riding on a glorious alcohol induced wave, Evan half jogged/half trotted his way down the street, arms wound tightly around her legs so she wouldn't slip. His eyes were still taking in all of the sights as they went, and it wasn't until at least ten minutes later he realized he must've taken a wrong turn somewhere - they were no longer on the main strip, and he didn't recognize any of his surroundings. "Excuse me, GPS" he gave her a little shake, "are you asleep or just defective?"

Billie: She was pretty much half asleep and hadn’t noticed that Evan had wandered off the main street of Vegas, eyes slamming open to look around and figure out where they were. It was certainly not the classiest part of the area, with multiple strip clubs and low priced hotels for backpackers and then a littering of Little White Chapel-type establishments. In fact, there was a Little White Chapel right there, and a couple leaving it in hand and hand donning a cheap suit and a probably cheaper white dress – not that Billie was the type to judge. She smiled at them all the same from her position propped up on Evan’s back, called out a “congratulations!” that may have been a little bit slurred. Whatever, it was Las Vegas, chances are the couple themselves were absolutely wasted. Maybe they were the modern Ross and Rachel.

Evan: Deciding to take a moments rest to gather their surroundings, Evan set Billie back down on the floor, but not before the newlyweds had time to make assumptions and were yelling "we'll come watch yours!" back at them from across the street. Was that what they looked like they were doing here? Shooting Billie a highly amused face, Evan laughed it off, unable to shake his head anymore if he tried. "Dude no, we're not here for that. We're just lost. Congratulations, though. Enjoy your...consummating and stuff..." he trailed off, figuring he was fighting a losing battle with how progressively awkward he was getting. He'd forgotten all about this part of Vegas. A draw almost as big as the gambling, lay still so unexplored, and his curiosity had peaked. "Shit, we should definitely come check out some weddings tomorrow. I wanna throw rice at people and see if Elvis impersonators really play as big of a role in the ceremonies as movies have had me believe".

Billie: “You can’t throw rice at weddings,” Billie said, and it was with an authority of a twenty-something who had been to more weddings than she cared to admit to. “Birds eat it and their stomachs explode.” She looked at the neon signs advertising TIE THE KNOT NOW and WEDDINGS HERE and then spotted one that said 24/7. Because of course. Because Vegas. Because… why not now? She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, looking around at the incredibly tacky lobby. A receptionist gave them a once-over, smacking her gum. “Next session’s in fifteen minutes. Regular. If you want Elvis, it’ll be thirty. And,” she pulled down her glasses, looking them up and down properly this time. God, the things she must have seen in her years as a receptionist at a shitty wedding chapel in the seedier parts of Las Vegas. “It cost fifty extra.”

Evan: Narrowing his eyes at the unloading of information, Evan tried hard to work out the validity of her statement - was that true? Well, if there was anyone he'd trust about animal welfare facts, it would be Billie, so consider him told. Then, his hand was being tugged, and his legs carried himself into the chapel with far too much ease and not enough protest. Curiosity and excitement steamrolled into one left no room for any apprehension, and with how forthcoming the receptionist and her services were, there was no time to think. He wanted to see inside. Wanted to be able to laugh with his friend about what the fuck they were doing, so without another thought, he was announcing "of course we want Elvis!" while sliding over the cash, "and no rice!"

Billie: It all happened too quickly for Billie to even understand exactly what was happening, but then the woman was shoving a pile of papers and a pamphlet of rings they could choose from across the desk and gesturing to the seats just to the side of them. Her heart was hammering in her chest and maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was, you know, the fact her arguable best friend had just agreed to marry her in Vegas. She’d learned from Friends pretty well that as ridiculous as these ceremonies were, they were legally binding. And not all that easy to annul. Jesus, they were meant to be Chandler and Phoebe - singing each other Endless Love - not Ross and Rachel. And yet, somehow, she didn’t care, grabbing a pen and starting on the papers as they sat down before she noticed the ring catalogue. It was no Tiffany and Co. “Are we insane, Ev?”

Evan: Taking a seat as nonchalantly as he would've in a dentists waiting room, it wasn't until the papers were in his lap that Evan began to realize what they had just paid for. His hand admittedly trembled a little as he scrawled out the relevant information, but he focused on getting it done, preferring to take one thing at a time than to think about what would happen when they walked out of the chapel. Billie's voice drew him from his thoughts while he was copying the info from his drivers licence, and a smile answered her question. "We already knew that, didn't we?" Going back to writing for the briefest of moments before realizing her question might have been a call for reassurance, Evan turned his head to face her, tone more serious now. "Honestly, I've tried this wedding shit twice before already with a girl who didn't even know herself what the hell it was she wanted from me. I know what I'm getting with you, we know what we're getting with each other. Marrying one of my best friends instead of chasing some illusion is probably the most sane thing I'll ever do".

Billie: He raised a good point. They were both completely, possibly clinically, crazy, it seemed pretty in character for them to get married in Vegas with Elvis at the helm. As a matter of fact, it seemed like something her mother would have done which turned Billie’s stomach for just a second as she thought about it. She set the pen down when Evan started talking, a faint but genuine smile crossing her features. They were both absolutely wasted and who the hell knew what they’d make of this in the sobriety of the morning, but she was pretty happy with his reasoning. “I never thought I’d get married,” she said, leaning across to kiss his cheek and realizing that despite their pending nuptials and occasional flirtations, they’d never done more than that. “I thought... I think I might be cursed. But maybe we can be cursed together.”

Evan: The alcohol proved to be little help with curing his bitterness over the whole failed engagements situation, and now that he thought about it, he wanted to go through with the wedding even more. Not like he'd ever admit it, but he was desperate to have that whole idea of marriage - having someone to come home to, and a ring on your finger that served as a reminder of the stability you'd have if you had someone in your life with whom you'd taken vows with. It seemed she had her own underlying reasoning for wanting to go through with it, and as she kissed his cheek, he slung his arm around Billie's shoulder, holding her close to him. "To hell with curses, we're writing our own destiny." Unsure of when exactly he'd started sounding like a fortune cookie, Evan continued to chat excitedly about what a good idea this was as they settled the details with the receptionist, completely sold on it now, himself, until the doors to the main part of the chapel swung open and filled the room with cheap recorded organ music as two more newlyweds marched out, wound up in each other. The smiles on their faces mirrored his own, and Evan leapt up from where he was sitting, turning to offer a hand for Billie to join him. "Let's get ourselves hitched, future Mrs Peters".

Billie: Billie kind of liked the idea of writing her own destiny, of being more than the sum of her parents’ fuck ups, and she relaxed into his embrace as they chose their rings and ultimately settled on one that he already owned. For her, it was a minimalistic white gold band but one that seemed practical for every day use unlike the ridiculously bling-y jewelry that she wore for most events. Time flew by as they speculated on whether their Elvis would have a beer gut and whether he’d actually be able to sing, and then they were being called into the chapel for their turn. Taking Evan’s hand again, Billie got to her feet and thought to herself that if she were even the tiniest bit sober it would probably scare the hell out of her to be called Mrs anything. And yet. “Really, I think you should be Mr Lourd,” she mused before they headed into a slew of bad Elvis references, trying to keep straight faces.

Evan: Since receiving the mood ring from Billie, Evan admittedly hadn't taken it off. He wasn't much of a ring wearer himself, but he'd always liked how they looked when they were a part of Tate's costume, so getting that back was a welcome change to his wardrobe. Now, it would signify a whole lot more. Once they were inside, their 'Elvis' approached the pair, ready to take Billie off Evan's hands, and the elderly gentleman at the head of the altar beckoned Evan over. He went willingly, not needing to be told where to stand or what to do. He'd imagined this moment many times over in his head, and got so far with the planning, only now when he turned around it was going to be someone who he'd never have expected joining him at his side. They were both prepped a little, and somehow, that short time apart managed to build up enough tension to feel as if it had been a whole night spent apart, ready for some big ceremony at the end of it. Judging by his heart rate, this was just as substantial as any 'big' celebration. It was just the four of them in the room, and Evan had had absolutely no time at all to sweat over the reality of any of it, yet he still managed to jump out of his skin as the organ music started back up in the traditional bridal chorus. It was absolutely terrifying. If he were playing it cool before, that facade had quickly diminished into a lump in his throat, and he couldn't bring himself to look anywhere but directly at a single button on the priests shirt, every chord seeming louder and louder as Billie and Elvis ascended on him.

Billie: Pulled aside by Elvis, a sentence Billie never thought she’d find herself pondering, she was asked a series of questions such as whether or not she wanted to use the pun infused vows that the chapel supplied or her own. Instinctively, she said her own and wondered if Evan would do the same. She wouldn’t judge him either way. Despite the utterly inebriated state she found herself in, the sound of the bridal music playing as she reentered the room was enough to make her stomach drop, just a little, and she could see Evan at the end of the aisle feeling the same way. By the time she reached him, all she knew to do was take his hands in hers once more and offer what she hoped was a reassuring smile as the officiant and the Elvis took turns with their spiels before they reached the vows. She squeezed his hands and inhaled. “So this is… kind of ridiculous, let’s be honest,” Billie said with a breath of a laugh, looking between the three men before she focused on Evan’s eyes. She was pretty sure that this sort of wedding was meant to be light on the vows and heavy on the terrible Elvis references, but she didn’t really give a damn. This might be the only time she ever got the opportunity to do this, and she wanted to speak her mind, if only for a moment. “But it also feels kind of right? The past few years have been… a terrible blur, but you’ve always been someone that I can see with perfect clarity. Even with the jokes and the insults and the endless taunting of your rating on WikiFeet, you’ve been one of my best friends, my confidant, and someone I know… gets it… even when nobody can possibly possibly get it. I don’t know what comes next, or what any of this even really fucking means, but I’m… really glad that you’ll be a part of it, Ev, whatever it is. You’ll always have a part of me and I love you, I really do.”

Evan: As soon as Billie reached his side and took his hands, Evan felt a fraction of relief. She smiled that smile that somehow always managed to go higher in one corner, he was sure without her realizing it, and he couldn't help but smile back in all the familiarity of her. Then, it all seemed to get easier until she got to her vows, and as much as he would've like to tease her endlessly over them, she started saying things that couldn't possibly fill him with anything but adoration. His emotions were all over the place, considering how much alcohol he'd consumed, and how sweet her tone was as she opened up, especially considering he'd never thought he'd be standing at an altar with anyone anymore, he'd given up on that dream, yet here they were, and he had to beg himself not to tear up. ( She would never let him live that down ).Once she'd finished, the priest opened his mouth to deliver what Evan assumed was going to be the puns that he'd chosen, because...hello, they were getting married in Vegas. Elvis puns would've been hilarious. But he'd had a change of heart, and the actor filled the void with his own words instead. "Honestly, Billie. Something as ridiculous as this seems right on key for us. The fact that we even find ourselves here, in this situation, from an honest birthday gift, is exactly the reason why being married to you sounds like a great idea. Among other things, you're one of the only people I can truly be myself around. I knew that from the moment I met you. We didn't talk much directly this night, you were actually...there with your boyfriend at the time" was it bad form to bring exes into your wedding vows? Whatever. He hadn't had time to read the chapel rule book. ""It was that night at Universal Studios, the horror night, and I came along with your cast. You wanted to look the part and wear those little devil horns, so you scoped out a stand selling them and came back with enough for pretty much all of us, though not everyone chose to wear them. I still have mine. Then, all I can remember from that whole evening is...laughing, so much, at some of the shit you were pulling. And when I look back on all my times with you, that's the main ingredient in all of them. I've always said marriage should be full of laughter...and love. And I do, I love you too, Billie. We may not be together and mean that in any conventional way, but what does it matter? You've ticked the most important boxes for me, and I have absolutely no idea either, what this means for us or where we go from here. But I promise I will always try and be that light for you. I’ll even, fucking…you’ve weathered enough fucking storms for one lifetime already, but if you ever find yourself in another one, keep looking forward, and I vow to be there up in some cool-ass lighthouse, guiding you through it”. His attempt at getting deep and using some wedding appropriate metaphor managed to get a sheepish laugh out of himself, especially considering how many curse words were used, and he suddenly remembered this was supposed to be a lighthearted thing. Some fun between two friends. So quickly, he added. “Also, I feel like we should have sex later. Amen”.

Billie: Billie remembered that night, because of course she did – even if she’d probably been drunken too – and her face lit up even brighter for the fact that it was etched in his memory, too. Sometimes she wondered if she was at all memorable beyond the moment, if she really left impressions on people, and Evan’s words made her quietly confident that she did. And that very fact made her heart surge, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she begged herself to not be emotional, to remember this was meant to be good, drunken fun (with ramifications that could last forever, but whatever – this was a night of whatevers.) The officiant started to say it was time to exchange the rings (poor Elvis’ involvement had been seriously set aside) but before Billie could stop herself, before she could wait two fucking minutes, she was dropping her hands out of Evan’s and lifting them to rest at either side of his face so that she could pull him into a deep kiss, a silent but very sincere thank you for his words, for being her lighthouse amidst the terror of the storms that were sure to come, and what happened to somehow after all these years still be their very first kiss – random and unconventional and so very them.

Evan: No matter how many weird, impromptu weddings these staff members had possibly seen, they'd probably not often had to deal with two people as headstrong as Billie and Evan, who would keep straying from the way things were done and taking matters into their own hands - like the first kiss. Up until now, Evan had completely forgot that was something that would 'need' to be done, so he was twice as shocked to find that Billie didn't need to wait to be asked. His eyes remained open, widened a little in surprise as she pressed her lips against his. His hands must've been frozen awkwardly outward, unmoving from the position they had been holding them in. But thankfully, Billie was holding the kiss long enough for him to get his shit together. As he felt her begin to pull away, he made up for his slow motor skills by leaning back into it, hands going to her hips, head dipping down to reach lips that he'd never imagined he'd be kissing. But, as weird and terrifying and slightly awkward as it felt, he was enjoying it.

Billie: It was reassuring when Evan’s hands landed on her hips, inching her a little closer to him as they continued the kiss, but before long there was the intrusive sound of the two people who were meant to be marrying them clearing their throats, and the not-so-gentle reminder that they were paying per fifteen minutes. Not that either Billie or Evan actually fucking cared, they were collective millionaires, but it was a less than subtle sign that they needed to move on. Again, whatever. The night of the whatevers. Billie pulled back but kept one hand in Evan’s as she slid the ring onto his finger, a ring he’d been wearing all the time but never on his ring finger, only shaking slightly as she did. She couldn’t even remember what she was saying to him as she was saying it, something about the shape of the ring being a symbol of their eternal devotion to one another, something about… it didn't matter, it was a mood ring, for fuck’s sake, she bit her lip not to laugh and then held out her hand for Evan’s turn.

Evan: It was something about knowing that he'd probably never kiss her again that had Evan all the more reluctant to break it off, though they weren't given much of a choice, and as he straightened up he honestly found it hard to look at Billie, afraid that she'd be doing that thing where she psychoanalysed his facial expressions. He was soon able to go back to their regularly scheduled programming though as the mood ring was placed appropriately. The idea of it suddenly turning another color had him nervously laughing, despite not believing in their actual purpose. Then, Elvis was presenting him with Billie's chosen one, and he slid it onto her finger, the action really feeling like it had finalized things. Wasn't it now that the kissing was supposed to commence? He could tell the priest was wondering or not whether to go back down that road again considering it might add another fifteen minutes onto his shift, but instead, he announced "I now pronounce you, husband and wife" and Evan pulled his friend into a tight embrace.

Billie: The hug felt right. They could be kissing, of course, and there had been the mention of sex later (with a really, really blasphemous “amen”) but when it came down it to it, at the end of the day, at the end of all of this, they were best friends and that counted for everything. Whether this relationship would last – did any relationship last in 2019? – was to be foreseen, but the friendship would surely last no matter how they felt come the morning. And so Billie got on her tip toes to hug him close, fingers threading through his hair as some music she couldn’t put a name to played and they were soon being ushered out after a handful of pictures were taken, promised to be developed by morning.

Evan: Once all was said and done, Evan had requested their photos get sent to their room at Caesars in the morning, coughing up a little extra to get that arranged, and then they were back on the street. Married. Husband and wife. They should head out celebrating, but hadn't they already done enough of that beforehand? Wasn't that to thank for getting them in this situation in the first place? Plus, there was only one place that he wanted to go right now, and that was back to the hotel room. He led the charge back there - the strip seeming a lot emptier now that they were way into the early hours of the morning. It was true, the city never slept, and there would always be stragglers still having a go at it, but Evan was happy to call it a night there and then, the aircon of the hotel and comfort of their room welcoming them back with open arms. What a fucking day.

Billie: The ring on her finger kept glistening in the mixture of the lamp and the moonlight, and there were a few times that Billie got caught fixated on it before finding her senses again as Evan dragged her along. They were married. Legally. Husband and wife. If some insane accident happened, he would be the first person they called. And god, she’d have to tell her dad. But she couldn’t find the strength to care about any of that right now, just letting herself be led up to their room which it felt like they’d been days since they stepped foot into. She shucked off her purse and cardigan and flopped down on the bed, sliding off her sandals and looking up at the ceiling. The feelings surging through her were tough to put into words: happiness, confusion, a wondering whether she’d just done the exact thing her fucked up mom would do, but mostly just drunkenness and a whole lot of it. She reached out for Evan to pull him to lay beside her, curling against his side and subconsciously playing with the hem of his shirt. “You have a wife,” she teased sleepily.

Evan: It only occurred to Evan that his priorities needed a little organizing as he'd tapped out a few messages on his phone - not to his parents, or siblings, or the people that he probably should've told. But to Joe, to Sophie, to Jen and Gemma. The people he assumed would lap up his nuptials as much as his drunken ass did. But, his messages would have to cut off abruptly as there were more important matters at hand, like the one tugging at him to get him to lay down with her. He went willingly, kicking off his Converse and relaxing into the mattress. "I have a fucking wife" He repeated back to her in disbelief, eyes surveying the pattern on the ceiling and how it was swirling around in his head slightly until his head fell towards Billie instead. "And she's not half bad, either. I don't know how I managed it. You've well and truly done it now, Lourd. You're stuck with me".

Billie: Really, there were a dozen texts that Billie ought to send, too, but she figured her ability to type was severely compromised and right now the bed was so warm and soft and inviting and her phone was… well, it was about three feet away, but it was far enough away that she couldn’t be bothered. She let out a breathy little laugh at Evan’s comments, biting back a comment on how he could do so much better because, at the end of the day, he was with her and she had a ring on her finger and that counted for more than any of his previous relationships. Or… the very significant previous relationship that she wasn’t going to dare think about until there wasn’t half as much tequila coursing through her veins. “I’ve done it, huh? Like this wasn’t your plan all along, Ev,” she teased, then, hand sliding just a little up his shirt, along the flat of his abdomen. The fact of the matter was that she wouldn’t have married someone who she thought had this in mind right along, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t wind him up a little, even as they winded down.

Evan: "You caught me," Evan attempted to continue on with their conversation, despite the fact he was hyper aware that Billie's hand was...well, in territory it hadn't been before. It really wasn't a big deal. It had probably just fallen there. But that didn't mean that he wasn't tuned in to any small move her thumb might make, even if by accident. "It was a pretty long winded plan, even down to the detail of getting lost on that street, and yet...you fell for it. So I think I deserve this marriage anyway". Once he'd ran out of things to say, there was no pushing the thoughts out of his mind. He could joke about it endlessly, but that didn't mean the thought of actually...trying to do anything with Billie didn't terrify him. Was the hand on his abdomen a sign from her or was he thinking way too into it? As far as he knew, there was only really one way to find out for certain, and so after a moment, he broke the silence. "Can I kiss you again?"

Billie: It wasn’t like Billie was being intentionally seductive, it was just that she was calm and comfortable and with Evan it was always so easy. Sometimes she found herself wondering why they hadn’t had sex yet, hadn’t even kissed yet, but they always seemed to land in the friend zone and/or found themselves with other people whenever any opportunity for anything would arise. Right now, though, they were alone and married and if she could have continued that kiss in the chapel forever she would have. So she nodded at his question, smile tugging at her mouth for the fact that he even thought to ask given that most men didn’t do her such a favor, and lifted her head for the sake of access.

Evan: The nod of her head was all he needed to squash his curiosity, and he seized his chance, lifting off the mattress so he could twist his body and hover over Billie slightly, his free hand going into her hair as his lips descended back down on hers. This time, he didn't need to keep it PG for the sake of anyone else in the room. And it wasn't under the pretence of something you do at a wedding ceremony. It was more of a conscious decision, and his brain was on overdrive as he got more and more into it, barely breaking contact as a drunken confession fell from his lips. "I think I've wanted to do this for a long time".

Billie: Kissing was Billie’s main focus for a few long moments until Evan spoke and her heart seemed to beat even a little faster than it had for the entire night. She could never really put her thoughts for him into one easy, sensical place, instead spending most of her time joking about seducing him but never going further than that because, well, there was always someone else and maybe she didn’t think that she fit into whatever it was that he wanted in that else. But he was kissing her, now, her hands lifting up to rest on his shoulders just for a moment as he spoke and she responded in earnest: “Me too,” punctuated with another kiss before maybe ruining it with a joke: “Just had to make it official first like the good, chaste woman I am.”

Evan: He wished he were one of those people who could mask their emotions a little easier under the influence, but that remained the only time Evan couldn't quite master it, and that much was obvious as he smiled down at her, the air feeling a little clearer now they'd both had somewhat of a confession. "Let's see just how chaste you feel in a couple of hours time". Hands reaching blindly for Billie's legs Evan hooked one of them over himself and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him suddenly as he did so. The image of her towering above him was one he'd never thought he'd see unless Ryan decided to give them romantically involved roles, but this was better than anything he could've got on set anyway. This...she was hopefully into just as much as him, and he decided to find out by letting two of his fingers work their way up her thigh, delicately brushing them against the outer fabric of her underwear. God, he was so drunk, and yet, he still felt like he wanted to seek confirmation with everything he did. You could never be too careful when you were pushing the boundaries of such a solid friendship. "Do you want me to?"

Billie: Even in the haze of drunkenness and the adrenalin of just having married her best friend, Billie was more than capable of knowing the weight of what they were doing and were about to do and the impact it might have on their relationship. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin what they had, ruin what they’d worked hard for in spite of their own personal demons over the past few years, but as she pressed her head against his forehead and nodded, she didn’t feel like she was ruining anything. Something deep within her told her that whatever the outcome of this trip, whether their marriage lasted a day or a decade, they were meant to be together in one way or another – platonic or otherwise. So she nodded again, soft at first but then more firmly, and shifted herself so that he was closer to touching her. Not for the first time that night, she found herself saying: “I do.”

Evan: There was something about the risk factor being way higher here than during any other ‘hook up’ that had Evan all the more desperate for it. He could feel himself growing harder by the moment, and once she'd given him confirmation, his fingers tentatively pushed aside her underwear, beneath the dress. His eyes never left her own as he stroked a finger up her middle, almost immediately capturing her bottom lip between his teeth. She was already wet, hopefully experiencing even half as much desire as he was right now. But he was going to take it slow, make the most of it, so he started off touching her impossibly gently, peppering soft kisses to her neck and jawline.

Billie: “Oh, fuck.” It wasn’t as if it had been an age since Billie got laid, but there was something about Evan’s touch that threw her entirely into another realm of desire. Maybe it was because she’d thought about it before more than she cared to admit to, maybe it was because their meaning in one another’s lives had just changed forever and always – no matter what the morning had in store for them. She pushed her hips towards his touch and let her eyes flutter shut as her hands searched for him, to touch him, torn between wanting more of his fingers and just wanting more, period. She had always been an indecisive girl, after all.

Evan: Sliding two of his fingers inside of Billie, Evan watched her expression change with his bottom lip between his teeth, enjoying every moment of getting to see her in this whole new way. Though her eyes were shut, his were fixated on his friend, the sight turning him on to no end. He began to wonder if he could please her as well as he'd usually be able to in a better state, or even if she'd be doing this at all if the two of them were in their right minds. His fingers slowly pumped, as his mind quickly raced, but he was determined not to let his doubts show and ruin it for himself, so he quickly stole another kiss from her parted lips, attempting to shove all of those thoughts to the back of his mind.

Billie: Her eyes flickered open as Evan hit a particularly sensitive spot, and Billie released a breath of a moan that barely expressed the pleasure and emotion she was feeling in the moment as he kissed her. It was strange how this felt inevitable even when just a few hours ago the most they did was kiss each other on the cheek, when even leaning into one another atop the Paris felt like toeing the line too closely to romantic, but it did. Inevitable, she decided, that would be her word for him. For this. And she thought about that as she reached for him through his trousers, feeling for his hardness as her eyes latched onto his gaze. Maybe marriage wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe she wasn't cursed. "Have you wanted this for a long time, too?"

Evan: The sound of her gentle moan lit a fire in Evan that he knew could only be put out one way, and the more he got into it, the more his brain started screaming at the dangerous territory they were entering. He needed that to stop. If he were really going to let himself enjoy it like he wanted to, then he needed to stop thinking. He was touching her, and she was touching him, that line had already been crossed, but he figured in the morning all they would be talking about was the fact that they had got married, not felt each other up. So why not? Why did his hand go to take her own wrist? Pausing any movement that he so badly wanted her to do? "I swear, if I'm being honest with myself, I've thought about this....a lot. And now it's actually happening and I...I just need five minutes, okay? I'm just gonna.." lifting her off him a little, Evan abruptly pulled himself off the bed, wishing she couldn't see just how excited he already was through his trousers. So much for seeming cool and unfazed. "I'll be right back". With that, he dipped into the bathroom, immediately going over to the mirror to take a long hard look at himself. Apart from some reddened lips and mussed up hair, he didn't look any different. He didn't look like a guy who had been chased over Vegas by security and married his best friend in one day. But he was. He was also the guy that had consumed a hell of a lot of alcohol and might have been having a little performance anxiety, knowing that so much rided on this one thing. Maybe if he'd just splash a little water on his face, ground himself, then he could go back out there and give her the experience that he really wanted to.

Billie: His hand on her wrist, pulling her off of him, felt like being stung. It all happened so quickly, though, and all Billie could manage was a quick nod as he jumped off the bed and made for the bathroom, leaving her feeling ridiculously exposed and stupid and... it didn’t matter, they were both off their faces with alcohol and the adrenaline of everything, it seemed like an inevitability that things would spiral into a shatter. Inevitable – there was that word again. But she had to try not to take it personally, pushing her underwear back into place and then sliding her dress over her head before she curled back up on the bed, eyes flickering over to the door as she resisted the urge to call out and see if he was okay, to ask what she’d done wrong. Her eyes travelled then to the ring on her finger and she shifted it so that it was reflecting the light from the city below, and then all she remembered was blackness as sleep overcame her.

Evan: Evan hadn't thought about how his sudden departure could be misconstrued as him not wanting to continue. It was quite the opposite, and after quickly wetting his face and brushing his teeth, the actor made his way back into the bedroom to find Billie asleep. Or, was she just resting her eyes? "Billie?" He called out softly, not wanting to wake her if she really had passed out, but hoping that he'd see her eyes open, and her inviting him back in. She didn't budge. "Fuck." He let out in frustration, wondering if he'd ruined anything. A part of him suspected they would never talk about this again, and he'd just lost his one chance, but there was no way he would disturb her to try again, so he pulled the comforter over her body and undressed to his boxers instead. Slowly climbing in next to his friend, Evan couldn't resist making the most of their one lost night together by cuddling in to her, an arm draped over her body as he too, fell asleep.

Billie: Ultimately, it was the morning sun shining through the impossibly wide windows that woke Billie up, although her pounding head was a close second. It was tempting to just snuggle closer to the arms around her but then... wait, the arms around her? She pulled back suddenly to inspect the sleeping figure next to her, not sure if she was grateful it was a familiar Evan instead of some random she’d met the night before. Because the fact it was Evan, well, that complicated things. And she really didn’t want things to be complicated between them, but she also didn’t want to play pretend and so she shook him awake by his bare shoulder, asking him: “Hey, how much did we drink last night?”

Evan: Once Evan had fallen into an alcohol induced sleep, there was usually no stirring him. He could sleep through a hurricane. And yet, the sound of Billie's voice set off alarm bells, which shot his eyes open, the lids blinking desperately in order to adjust to the harsh sunlight that was streaming through the windows. His arms were still wrapped around her, which he quickly corrected as he shuffled back under the covers, putting more distance between them. "Jesus Lourd," he grumbled, failing to put two and two together while still in an overtired state. "I've barely woken up and you want me to list off how many alcoholic beverages we had last night? Too fucking many, there's your answer". Reaching out for a pillow, the male shoved it over his face, desperate to block out the blinding light without needing to get up to close the curtains. Honestly, he still felt a little drunk, but it was nothing compared to the night prior. He was actually back in his right mind now. Until at least...he remembered...then he'd lose it again.

Billie: Because she was a fucking troll, Billie grabbed the blankets from the end of the bed and stripped them off, piling them up on the floor so that there was nothing for Evan to hide with. Except for his stupid pillow, which she was about to wrestle from his arms when there was a loud knock on the door. “What the hell? Is it check out time already?” She glanced at her phone to see she had a million missed calls and text messages but the knocking on the door got more persistent, and she didn’t even get a chance to see why she was suddenly more popular than when her mother died. She looked at her bra and panties and sighed, grabbing a sheet from the bed to wrap herself in before she crossed the room and answered it. Standing there was a concierge holding a giant box and an overly jubilant for this hour look on his face, handing it over and wishing the happy couple a wonderful day. Ugh, why did people keep assuming that she and Evan were together just because they were sharing a room? She grabbed the box, brought it into the bar area where she ripped it open and screamed.

Evan: Letting out another highly irritated groan as Billie shed him of all that was good in the world, Evan clutched onto the pillow tighter, unwilling to sacrifice it to even attempt to get any of the covers back. He could hear her talking, moving around the room, and even the knocks on the door, but his lazy hungover ass wasn't budging for anything. Or so he thought. That was, until, her scream echoed off the marble flooring straight from the other room, and Evan literally fell straight off the bed in his scramble to get to her. "Billie?!" he called out, though he was pretty much already by her side and could see she wasn't in any immediate danger. Instantly, his gaze followed her own, and he peered into the box where mugs and keychains and calendars stared back at him - all featuring their glassy eyed, overexcitable faces standing proudly at an altar. His stomach dropped immediately, eyes widening as he forcibly tore them away from the prints to look at his...wife. Words, at this point, were inexistent.

Billie: “What the fuck did you do?” Billie demanded, looking at Evan like he’d just sprouted devil horns because of course this had to be his fault. She wouldn’t just… marry a friend, no matter how drunk she got, would she? No, absolutely not. This was an Evan Peters move. This was something entirely out of her hands, this was – oh, she had to sit down. And the floor was as good a place as any, even if she was pretty sure it was the second saddest visual of her in her life. She was wearing nothing but lingerie with her legs folded and her head in her hands, trying to remember how to breathe and then suddenly remembering the messages on her phone. And the missed calls. And… how many people knew about this? “It’s fake,” she declared, suddenly, because that had to be the answer. It was some weird character theater that they’d engaged – no pun intended – in and something had gotten lost in translation and that had to be it. Or it would be it, if she didn’t notice a folder on the bar that she hadn’t seen before and peeled it open, revealing a very real Nevada Marriage Certificate. “I’m gonna pass the fuck out.”

Evan: "What the fuck did I do?! What the fuck did we do?" He corrected, finally finding his voice and perhaps finding it a little too loudly. All he knew how to do in these situations - not like he'd ever found himself in one quite so panic inducing before - was pace. Which was exactly what he started doing. The image of themselves in their underwear slowly beginning to lose the plot was sure to be amusing, if it wasn't an image of themselves. "It's not fake". He immediately concluded himself, just as Billie found the envelope. He remembered being in the chapel. Remembered the musty smell of the carpet - the result of allowing smoking inside for too long. Remembered the sound of the receptionist chewing on her gum. Something about a lighthouse. But...that was about it. Why had his brain decided to provide him with the most useless information it possibly could? Why the hell had they got married? What the fuck should they do about it now? Better yet...who knew about it? Racing back into the bedroom, Evan grabbed for his phone, hoping there would be photos or things to shed some more light on their predicament and after a few moments, sheepish feet carried him back to where Billie sat. "It's as bad as we thought." Lifting his phone to shield himself, Evan pulled a regretful face, preparing for something to get thrown in his direction as he recited the first text notification off his screen. "Never thought you'd find anyone willing to put up with you, man...congratulations...on your...new wife".

Billie: It was admittedly a low blow to blame him for what they’d done, but Billie couldn’t find a single memory in her mind of last night that helped her make sense of all of this, of the messages on her phone, of the certificate, of the really bad photos that she hoped no one would ever see (but if this were happening to anyone else, she’d have found really fucking funny). She watched him pace as she ignored her phone and just looked at the photos over and over, thinking of how she’d picked that dress out and thought it would be cute for Instagram photos, thinking of how they’d spam her stories each and every day of the trip to the point she was sure she’d conjure a cease and desist from the internet at large. She lifted her hand to cover her eyes when he read out the message, thinking it was kind of a dick move to imply that someone wouldn’t put up with him, but then she was distracted by the feeling of silver on skin. No, some other metal, and on an unfamiliar finger. “Oh,” she said, opening her eyes to look at it, before she grabbed his hand where the mood ring lived. “Oh my god, I’m your wife.”

Evan: That was enough text reading for now. That one alone had sent his head into a frenzy, and although there were many more red bubbles indicating unread messages, Evan tossed his phone onto the bar top, moving back to stand face to face with Billie, examining her own ring as she caught sight of the new home of his one. Once she'd given him his hands back, he wiped his sweaty palms against the fabric of his boxers and cleared his throat. "Okay, this is...not good, for either of us, if this gets out. I don't even want to face my phone right now, but as far as we know...it's only our friends that know, right? Just some of them, maybe." The truth was, he didn't know that at all. But he was choosing to believe what he wanted to believe, and so, he raised his hand again, pinky outstretched. "We tell them it was a prank, and try and keep this as quiet as possible, agreed?".

Billie: She could already imagine the call with her agent, and then the inevitable call with her dad. It made her feel sick to her stomach and not just because she’d drank approximately a third of all the available liquor in Vegas overnight and still had most of it coursing through her. He was right, of course, this wasn’t good for them if it got out, and she’d been fighting the superlative of Most Likely To End Up On A Tabloid her entire life. This was definitely tabloid-worthy, and she just had to hope that their friends weren’t dicks and wouldn’t be those awful ‘a source close to the couple’ that she was always reading about in the dentist’s waiting room when it was that or playing Candy Crush. She hooked her finger through his and swallowed hard. “Agreed,” she said, fighting back a million questions about what the hell had gone on that she'd forgotten entirely, fighting back her true feelings on the matter because, as always, it was easier.

#( 016 )#l m a oooooo #what a fucking mess #this part is more important if you hadn't have already guessed #tw really bad decisions #nsfw-ish #at one point

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