#— crawford speaking. ( out of character )

[hellpontifex]

[clenching my head] thinking about elliot on her sabbatical away from hell trying to adjust to modern normality, still finding love and eroticism in violence. even the briefest fleeting feeling of affection is accompanied by an unquellable urge to scrape at their bone and take them apart and put them back together again. im actually going insane

#— crawford speaking. ( out of character ) #i need to put down this book im like getting psychically fucking poisoned ro soemthing. Hello

[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 3)

Word Count - 3.7k

Summary - It’s been a couple months since you last had contact with Lt. Simon Ghost Riley. While you are repairing your tarnished reputation, Simon is on the other side working from the shadows and doing everything he can to take back his words. It isn’t until the three-month marker that you finally face him again, this time you’re willing to hear him out. If only because you guys are going to be team members.               

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Maybe a little bit of angst, Mentions of childhood trauma

A/N - as we near the end of this storyline I would like to thank everyone for their love and support and I appreciate every one of you guys 🤍🤍🤍  I am also going to post a brief POV from Ghost later, and one more part, two at tops.   

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2   

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It had been a month since you last spoke with Ghost and since then you learned three things. The first was that he truly was a ghost. He haunted hallways and existed only in rumors and whispers. He made himself seen only when he wanted to be. For the rest of his assignment, he kept his distance. You figured since you have yet to see him it was because he was better at spotting you first and turning in the other direction. Soap would still drop by and fill you in on the latest 141 gossip. It didn’t go over your head that Soap never had any gossip about Ghost. Never once did Soap mention him. Whether Soap figured out that something had gone down on his own or forced it out of Ghost himself was a mystery. You didn’t have the energy or care to ask. 

The second is that whatever he had been previously telling the higher up was either rescinded or someone had put in a good word about you. If it was Ghost or not, you also didn’t know. Nor did it matter if it was him, the damage was done. You put your hand up for every opportunity, followed every rule, and every patient that came to you left you with positive feedback. You were an HR dream.     

The third was that you missed his company. Even a month after you were still fuming, still ready to rip his tongue out should you see him again. Still heartbroken and yet some part of you still missed Ghost. You kept a very tight leash on that part of you and squashed it beneath your boot. How was it fair that his fuck up, and his selfishness resulted in you losing a friend. It wasn’t, and that’s what you were most bitter about. 

After two months, you have decided to let go of the anger and hurt. It wasn’t going to help you now. You kept yourself preoccupied with work and more work. You were still based in the new camp, now dubbed Fort Cardinal, which has since become one of the biggest bases.     

You were just leaving the mess hall after breakfast when you were intercepted in the hallway. 

“L/n?” the private asked.

“Yes?” your brows furrowed. 

“Crawford wants to speak to you. He’s in his office.”

Crawford was the commanding officer, and when he summoned someone to his office it could mean only a few things. Most of them were bad. You pivoted and headed towards HQ. You might have taken the scenic route too. Pausing at the entrance to Crawfords office.  “Sir,” you stood by the doorway waiting for your CO to acknowledge you, “you requested I come to see you.” 

He looked up from the files splayed out on his desk, “Take a seat.”

You pulled out a chair opposite him, your palms began to sweat and you wiped them on your pants. Racking your brain to try and remember if you had done something wrong, or inappropriate, but came up blank. 

“How many years have you been with us?” he questioned, folding his hands over the papers.

“Four, Sir,” you straightened your back and squared your shoulders.    

He stared at you for a second, his face hard, before nodding and looking back to the papers. They were your files. A collection of reports and logs and records, “It’s of my understanding that you’ve voiced your desire for a transfer.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Since your enlistment, your peers and superiors have had nothing but good things to say about you. Your records show that you excelled in both the field and the classroom. Never missed a work day, never late,” he began listing things off from the note in front of him. You couldn’t tell if he was impressed or irritated, and it was psyching you out. He paused as he flipped through, “Have you fully recovered from your injury?” 

“Healed like a dream,” you offered him a tight-lipped smile. It did, after the first couple of weeks you were back at work in full force. 

“Good to hear,” he flipped a page back so it was facing you, “Any idea what this might have been for?” It would have looked the same as any other report aside from the fact that it was entirely redacted. Whatever was written beneath had been obscured by a thick black line. 

You leaned forward, your smile fading into a frown. You shook your head, “I have no idea. No.” This was the first time you saw your files all laid out like this, so you were just as lost as him. Whoever redacted it must have been of higher status than him if even he didn’t know. Then again, you weren’t sure about what happened behind closed doors. You met his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking and when you couldn’t you wanted to melt into your seat. 

“There’s been an opening,” he leaned back in his chair, “Aerospace medicine has requested a combat medic. It’ll be a one year contract. Should you take this position you will be sent out for a three week training program and your first assignment will be right after that. ”

If it weren’t for those four years of service and learning that people like your CO didn’t like a show of emotions you would have hopped around his office. So, you remained silent, waiting for him to continue. 

“The captain of Special Task Forces 141 has requested you himself for their next mission.”

Your heart dropped.  

“Captain Price?” you echoed. Maybe it was a different 141. 

“Correct,” he waved a hand, his patience shortening, “Yes or no?” 

“Yes,” you answered before you could think it over, and he excused you before you could process your answer. This was what you had been asking for, what you were working towards, and now that it had been offered to you you were left uneasy. Working with the 141 was an honour and a nod to your capabilities. It also meant working with Lt. Simon Riley. You couldn’t unscramble your feelings about the implications. 

You determined that professionalism would yield the best outcome.  

You were packed and heading out for your training by lunch.    

When you entered the briefing room, it was as relaxed as you expected from the 141. Which was not at all. The air was thick and sober. You were half an hour early and still the last to arrive.

“Morning,” Price stepped around the table everyone was surrounding. 

“Good morning,”  you replied, making your way to the table. Laswell met up with you during your training to give you a rundown on what to expect. You were going to be their combat medic, yes, but you could fight and shoot just as well as any other soldier. You even had the grounds to brag about your close combat skills. Laswell was visibly pleased when you told her your dad forced you into mixed martial arts when you were ten years old, and could take down a full-grown man like he was a bag of flour. 

You scanned the table and the map splayed out was a replica of the one Laswell had provided. You tried to hide the smile and pointed to the empty medicine vial on the map, “Is that supposed to be me?” 

“Aye,” Soap puffed his chest out, “that was my doing.” 

When you looked up at Soap, you purposefully ignored the large burly man dressed in all black beside him, “Creative,” you noted how Ghost seemed to shrink back into the shadows at your indifference towards him. 

Soap had actually picked everyone's avatar, a sniper bullet, a lighter, a toy skeleton, and an angel wing that looked like it used to be a necklace, and a battery. You couldn’t decide whether to laugh at the figurines or the fact that everyone accepted them. 

Price ran through the plan, the target, and his expectations of everyone. He revealed that the target was going to be “Cameron Rowe” , a former sergeant turned rogue. His headshot was stabbed into the table with a knife. You recognized it as Ghosts, the blade usually fixed to his thigh. 

“Since we have no real idea as to where Rowe will be we’ll be splitting off into teams.”         You had to suck your lips into your mouth to keep from making an argument when Price moved your vial next to the skeleton on the map.  “Soap and Laswell with nest at the top of these two buildings,” he pointed to the two highrises in front and behind Rowe’s apartment building. “Doc and Ghost will take watch at the port,” he dragged his finger to the loading docs, which was usually Rowe’s meeting place. “Gaz and I will be tailing his informers and hopefully, catch them in the act.” 

You had a sneaking suspicion they stuck you with Ghost was to balance out the teams. Ghost was a one man army, you were basically going to keep him company. Or so they thought. You didn’t plan on sharing a single conversation with him, and you knew you could easily hold your own. The 141 had plans of not only taking down Rowe but finding out whoever he was working with. So, they couldn’t just pick him off in his apartment building. 

After the briefing and everyone knew their role people started to filter back out. You stayed behind to speak with Price, having a few questions of your own.

“Captain,” you started and he turned back around, “Why ask for me?” This assignment was only temporary, you weren’t a part of the 141, but Price could have picked anyone in the world to help with this job. 

“I read your file,” he closed the door behind him, coming to meet you by the table again, “You have an impressive background, and it makes me wonder why you chose the medical field.”

You were at the top of your class for both basics and medical school, so it was a genuine curiosity. He also probably had access to your life before enlistment, “It’s what I wanted,” was the only answer you could give him, and it’s the only one you had.

He hummed, his eyes turning to slits, “Then why agree?” 

“I’ve been waiting for something like this since day one. How was I supposed to say no?” You’ve been waiting for an opportunity to show your versatility. This mission might have been overkill but it was what you wanted. Beggars can’t be choosers. 

“You’re a strange one,” Price crossed his arms over his chest, “You’ll fit in great,” he looked like he had something else to say but changed his mind. He tilted his head towards the door, “Better go and get some rest, we leave at 0400 tomorrow.”   

You nodded, parting off with a “Thank you,” before heading to the door.

“Can we talk?” Ghost was waiting outside the door when you left the room. 

You shot him a blank look, “About?” you kept walking down the hall not waiting to hear his answer. 

He followed after you, “I want to apologize.” 

You exited the building and met with a blast of the hot sticky air of summer, the sun was getting low in the sky, “Go ahead, Judas” you turned to him, making eye contact with his chest. You gritted your teeth when you had to look up at him, “I’ll keep it civil for the sake of the mission but I don’t want to be your friend.”

His shoulders loosened as if he had just received the best news, “I understand,” he shifted back on his feet, his tired eyes scanning the area, before returning to you, “I was out of line. I was mixing private affairs with work, I see that now. And I’m sorry. I was being selfish and I wasn’t taking your needs and wants into consideration. So, if you’ll give me some grace and let me show you how good I can be.”  

“Keep your fingers out of my business and I’ll think about it,” you quipped. 

He lifted his hands before him, splaying his fingers out before curling them into a fist, “They’re put away,” he might have broken your trust and crossed you but he was still the friend you lost and missed. He was going to have to work for it either way. This was a start.    

“We can talk more later,” where there were fewer listening ears and watchful eyes. “I’ll come to you when I’m good and ready. For now, just stay away from me,” you’d think after 3 months you’d have figured out what you’d say to him, but you didn’t. And tomorrow you were going to be trapped in a room with him, so you were going to have to cross your t's and dot your i’s tonight to present them to him for tomorrow. 

He physically flinched at the dismissal, but he took a step back, providing you with space, “Of course.”  

Your chest twisted at the sight, you didn’t like treating him like a disease, but you refused to let it blind you of the truth. Still. You sighed, cursing yourself for what you were about to say, “Thank you, for apologizing.” 

His eyes crinkled in the corners and you could have sworn they gave way to a smile. The awe-worthy occurrence was sadly hidden underneath his mask. You rolled your eyes at him before pivoting and walking towards the barracks.      

You sat with Laswell on a stray crate on the tarmac while you waited for the rest of the team to arrive. The two of you just people watched, with her occasionally pointing someone out and telling you a little about them. This guy was grounded a couple of weeks ago because he arrived at work still drunk from the night before. That guy had a crazy, entitled wife. 

The chopper started its engine and was ready for lift-off at exactly 0359.   

“Doc, about our talk yesterday. I also figured you want to take part and get some revenge for yourself,” Price bellowed over the sound of the chopper, and he ducked below the propellers. Realization sprung to life in your chest. Price had asked for you to be on this mission because you had something to gain from it. This Rowe guy, this squealer had been the one to rat out the convoy to the enemy. He was the reason you were injured, and the reason Butters was dead. This wasn’t the sleight of hand of Ghost but Price. It put your nerves at ease and allowed you to be a little less angry with the former.      

“I appreciate it, Sir,” you nodded at Price.  He clapped a hand over your shoulder and hopped into the helicopter after you. Being squished between Price and Soap made you feel a little safer with the fact that there were no doors on the heli. Ghost took his spot on the side of the heli, letting his legs hang out the side, his gun at the ready. Gaz sat opposite him and Laswell adjacent to you. Her pack and gun took up an entire seat. She reached into her front pouch as the heli lifted off the ground, pulling out a chocolate bar. Your mouth watered. Chocolate was hard to come back at base, people traded whole MREs for one bar. Soap handed you a headset for the chopper just as she noticed your drooling expression. 

“If you promise you can get an appointment with the chiro, I’ll give you some,” she waggled the bar in front of her, a trade.

“I know both the chiropractor and the masseuse,” you countered. She made a look of delight, before reaching into her pack and tossing you your own bar. 

Oh, you liked her.    

You stuffed the back into the small day pack at your feet, saving it for later. Acutely aware that if you opened it here at least two people on this aircraft would put their hand out for a piece. You eyed Gaz and Soap. 

The helicopter had been an hour's flight, and they had landed on a field. Without permission, you might add so you had to be quick on the exit. A line of blacked-out SUVs and trucks was waiting for a quick escape. Price ordered everyone to join up with their duo, and head to their discussed position. 

Ghost strode for one of the SUVs, opening the back to place his pack and guns. He stepped to the side to allow you to do the same and closed it after you. He was spinning the keys around his finger when he turned to you, “Who’s driving?” 

You didn’t respond, instead, you opened the passenger door and slid in. From the side mirror, you could see him look up at the sky, take a couple of deep breaths, then clasp his hands together before moving to enter the car. He was silent the rest of the way, his attention on the road. Even through the mask, you could see his jaw tighten and flex. 

He parked the SUVs at the back of the building, between the wall and another vehicle. He lead you into the building, a warehouse or collection center of some sort into the offices on the second floor. He pointed out exit routes and potential areas to hold our position. The gravity of his pointing stuff out like that said a lot about how he thought this mission was going to pan out. The thought should have frightened you but knowing that the Ghost was fighting on the same side as you had the opposite effect. The office he brought you into was already vacant, with nothing but an empty desk and a chair on each side. He locked the door and placed his gun on the desk, and informed Price over the radio that we were in place. You made your way to the window, pulling one of the vanes down to peek outside. The window gave a good view of the entrance of the port and a decent view of the sea cans.       

“How long will he have to camp out here?” you asked, letting go of the blinds. 

“The day. Maybe into tomorrow,” he shrugged, as he started pulling things from his pack, “Depends on Rowe, really. Price and Gaz have the biggest probability of catching him. Laswell is going to be our eyes in the sky, and Soap already has access to the cameras in Rowe’s apartment, and a couple in this harbour.” 

You took a seat in one of the swivel chairs, “And you?” 

He paused, his eyes refusing to meet yours, “I’m more for after we catch him,” he cleared his throat. The question made him awkward, he didn’t want you to know what exactly it was that he did. You had your ideas and presumptions already but his hesitation had you second guessing.   

“You the one who’s going to get the information out of him?” he picked up one of the blades he had laid out on the desk, turning it over in your hand. He watched you, following your movements with predatory grace. 

“Is that why I’m here?” you continued, “To make sure he stays alive long enough to give you that information?” He was the butcher and you were the surgeon. A strange dichotomy. 

He stilled, “I don’t want you to see it.”      

“It”, being what he was going to do. What he was trained to do. What he was good at. You placed the knife back on the table, pushing away with the wheels on the chair. You prepared yourself for the upcoming confession. Playing this out in your head last night was way easier than actually doing it.  

“You know, I think you and I have very similar pasts,” you looked down at your hands, at the lines and curves etched into them.

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, and his shoulders rolled forward. 

“I also think we took very different paths, though,” you saw it in his eyes the moment you met, the wounds that were too deep to see on the surface. It was why you understood him, and why you were going to forgive him, “You don’t have to hide it from me, Riley. I’ve seen the worst in humanity, and I know that you are nothing like them”  

You didn’t think he was breathing, didn’t think he was in his body. When you met his stare, his eyes were wide, and his pupils were pinpricks. You stood up from the chair and walked to his side of the table, “Can I touch you?” 

It was barely noticeable but he nodded. You wrapped your arms underneath his arm and pressed your cheek to his shoulder. He immediately returned the gesture, his arms encircling your shoulders, his one hand reaching up to cradle your head to him. He released a shuddering breath, and if you closed your eyes and focused hard enough you could hear his heart hammering against his chest. 

“There isn’t anything you can do that will make me think you're a monster,” you whispered into his shoulder, “Aside from maybe sabotaging my career,” it was almost a joke. 

“Noted,” you could hear the smile in between his words. Feel the relief thawing his muscles. You pulled back just as Soap and Laswell confirmed their position. Ghost took a step back himself, “We should get set up.”  

He pushed the desk so it was against the same wall as the window, propping his gun onto and looked down the scope to the entrance of the port. 

You settled down and at the end of the desk, it was going to be a long, boring wait. You set to counting the bullets in the magazine Ghost pulled from his pack if only to find something to distract yourself. You were elated when he pulled a deck of cards from his pack and the two of you played a couple of rounds of poker, then switched to go fish. There was also the occasional chatter about what each other did in the three months you were separated. The both of you had become incredibly busy. 

It was nearing dusk by the time anything of importance aired over the radio. 

Price’s eager voice came through, “Ghost, Doc, we’re following the informants to the port. Be at the ready.”    

Part 3.5, Part 4

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A/N - the sniper bullet is Soap, the lighter is Price, the toy skeleton is Ghost, the angel wing is Gaz, and the battery is Laswell. Also, also, Price is definitely playing Cupid.

Tag List - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @marytvirgin​ ❤︎ @stickygumchewer​ ❤︎ @lauraliisa​ ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy​ ❤︎ @lululandd​ ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy​ ❤︎ @naxxsstuff​ ❤︎@sididakra-jo,   @yukisawer​ ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @kat-nee

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #MW2 #cod #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley angst #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #mw2019 #mw2022 #call of duty #MistyGhosties

[e4iphany]

astrology observations 2 . . . ♡

note: thank you guys for all the love on the last post! stay tuned for more astro observations & please let me know if you guys want any specific posts ♡ also a little bit of nsfw in this post!!

⚰️ earth mars men seem to always go for younger girls. i’ve noticed it with so many celebs - mainly capricorn mars and virgo mars.

⚰️ am i the only one who has noticed that it seems like fire/air sign mars women are usually more dominant and fire/air sign men are usually more submissive? most people seem to say “ohhh aries mars men are so dominant in bed” when most of the times they’re the ones most likely to be more submissive

⚰️ people with their ascendants at a higher degrees, meaning most of their 1st house is not the same as their ascendant, may still feel very connected to their ascendant + the other sign in their 1st house. my 1st house starts at 29° leo and ends with 22° virgo. i have a lot of virgo like traits, as well as leo facial features / personality traits.

⚰️ you may also come off as that second sign — i.e a lot of people think i’m a virgo when they first meet me as i’m shy and quiet & other basic traits lol

⚰️ people with their moon opposite their sun/ascendant … are you okay? you always seem to be fighting multiple personalities and can never tell who you really are. your outer emotions don’t reflect your inner emotions & you typically fake who you really are.

⚰️ 10H synastry/placements in composite chart is so sexy because they’re literally a power couple

⚰️ moon in 7H natives… you don’t need to be in a relationship to be healed… FOCUS ON YOURSELF!!!!!!!

⚰️ gemini risings have such beautiful hands. beautiful everything actually

⚰️ speaking of weird obsessions, a chart with a combo of gemini and pisces placements get obsessed with things and can’t overcome them. addictive personalities!

⚰️ it’s pretty easy to guess a sun sign by their looks. pisces and virgos are probably the easiest sign to guess, next to libra. i might do a post going more into detail!

⚰️ don’t know where the idea that pisces mars can be switches in bed came from because every pisces mars i’ve met at first thought they were a switch and turned out to be a bottom lol. we like to act like we aren’t bottoms though 🖤

⚰️ if your synastry chart with someone doesn’t have any squares/oppositions/quincunx … it will be very boring and superficial. every relationship/friendship needs some dynamic and challenges to overcome. it doesn’t mean toxicity, it just means you’ll need to put in effort.

⚰️ pisces .. anything age SOOO beautifully. think jensen ackles, rihanna, cindy crawford, etc. mainly pisces sun & rising i’ve noticed. probably moon as well, but i don’t know too many pisces moons.

⚰️ 7H/4H synastry is like .. romcom / basic romance movies kind of love. 8H/12H synastry is like requiem for a dream / buffalo 66 / the notebook kind of shit lmfao. toxic but die-for-you kind of

⚰️ easiest way to see if someone has pisces in their big 6 is their eyes!!! literally all pisces placements have bigggggg eyes i can’t even describe them. pisces sun, moon & rising is more prevalent with this character trait.

⚰️ if their moon falls in your 4H/1H… good luck getting over them because it’s *not* going to happen

⚰️ north node / south node synastry is so …. 😍🥰😘😍😍😘 perfect. think winona ryder & johnny depp, her south node conjunct his asc & his north node conjunct her vertex.

⚰️ aries moons are such great friends. maybe it’s because i’m a sag moon, but 2 of my closest friends are aries moons & they tell me how it is in, they don’t sugarcoat and they’re real. i 🖤 aries moons

thank you for reading! and you thank you for all the love on the last post . . . ♡

#astrology #synastry #astro notes #zodiac #astro community #astro observations #astrology aspects #astrology notes #astrology placements #astrology tumblr #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #astrology 101 #birth chart #natal chart #moon signs #sun signs #ascendant #synastry chart #synastry notes

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Mansfield Park - Henry Crawford and Fanny Price

I want to lay out how I see these characters and their relationship, because to me they seem to be set up as a deliberate contrast to Pride and Prejudice. At the tine of Henry’s first proposal, they are in a similar place to Elizabeth and Darcy at the time of Darcy’s first proposal, albeit with extremely different personalities than those characters: Fanny refuses him despite his wealth and her economic precarity because she cannot like or even respect him. However, Fanny, who is far shyer than Elizabeth, cannot lay out in direct and specific terms the foundation of her disapprobation of him.

From there, Henry sets out to win her regard in ways that very closely recall some of the events between Elizabeth and Darcy.

1) He does a great favour for a relative of hers. In his case, it is getting his uncle the admiral to have Fanny’s brother William promoted to lieutenant; in Darcy’s, it is saving the Bennets from disgrace by getting Wickham to marry Lydia. Darcy’s favour is far greater, and much more personally unpleasant for him, and he keeps it intentionally secret; he does it out of love of Elizabeth, but not to make her feel obligated. Henry’s takes only a few days of his time, its goal is get to Fanny to like him better, and he leverages it both at first and later to make her feel obliged to him.

2) He changes his manners to suit her. In Darcy’s case this means being polite rather than rude and haughty; in the case of Henry, who has always been charming and gregarious, it involves softening his manners to suit Fanny’s shy and quiet personality and engaging in more serious talk. In Darcy’s case this is a fundamental change in response to Elizabeth’s reproof; in Henry’s, it’s a simple adaptation to one person’s taste rather than another. He’s intelligent and able to engage in serious conversation when he wants to, but that’s not indicative of any fundamental change in his thinking.

3) He is polite to her family (the Prices, in Portsmouth) even when they are embarrassing.

4) He speaks with Fanny about reforms he is making on his estates to make sure his tenants are being treated fairly. These feels like a parallel to Elizabeth’s improved opinion of Darcy upon visiting Pemberley and hearing how well his servants speak of him. The difference is that Darcy has always been like that, whereas we are told early in Mansfield Park that Henry has been little on his estates during his adulthood: “To any thing like a permanence of abode, Henry Crawford had…a great dislike”. Darcy is acting in line with deep-seated principles; Henry is doing it as part of his courtship of Fanny, so he can bring it up to her and look good. He also tries to get her to counsel him to continue in this current vein, to engage her in a desire to fix/improve him, which Fanny shuts down laudably: “I advise! - you know very well what is right,” and when he reples that he always knows what is right when she tells him: “We all have a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person could be.” The weakness of Henry’s motivation is seen in the ending, where he puts off a visit to his estates to set matters right there in order to flirt with the now-married Maria Rushworth.

In short, Darcy is already good in many concrete ways, and sincerely improves in the ways where he is faulty, not in order to get Elizabeth to love him but because he thinks about her criticisms, agrees with them, and wants to be better for its own sake; and he helps her family solely out of love for her and deliberately hides it. Henry changes his manner and talk as part of his courtship, but his deeper values and attitudes do not change, and everything is directed at getting Fanny to fall for him.

The second area of contrast is in what the heroines object to. Elizabeth’s aspersions on Darcy’s character, regarding his interactions with Wickham, are found to be mistaken; her legitimate objections are to his attitude and arrogance, and he amends this. Henry’s manners are impeccable and his company charming; Fanny’s objections are to his character. She sees him deliberately flirt with both her cousins at once to a degree that implies an intent to propose, and play them off against one another; she sees him make some very deliberate and mutually-understood innuendo towards Maria, signifying that she should break off her engagement and be with him instead, all with zero intention of actually proposing if she did do so; she sees him use the theatricals to continue this pursuit of Maria. And this is very usual behaviour for Henry; his sister says he has broken many hearts, and when he starts courting Fanny his goal is to make her fall in love with him and then leave her “feeling she will never be happy again”.

This is what makes me judge Henry much more harshly than his sister Mary. Mary can be selfish, but she is not malicious or cruel, and she can be kind when it doesn’t inconvenience her (and one of her better traits is that even when she is unhappy or disappointed she never takes it out on other people). In contrast, Henry’s principal diversion and entertainment for years has been deliberately making young women miserable, leading them on, getting them to reject other suitors in hopes of him, and then departing without a care, to please his own vanity. He is, in truth, doing not once but habitually, what Willoughby did to Marianne: always implying enough to seem on the edge of an engagement but never following through, and then pretending it was all nothing. It’s a casual cruelty he finds amusing as a proof of his skills. In short, he’s a deceptive playboy. Even after Maria is married, he can’t resist flirting with her, which is what leads to her disgrace and social destruction.

Even though Austen lays out an alternative scenario where Henry might have married Fanny if not for that final flirtation with Maria Rushworth, all of the above does not lead me to believe she find that scenario desirable. She’s painstakingly laid out all the contrasts with her previous novel that make this scenario a very different one from Pride and Prejudice.

In addition to Henry’s serial seductions, one of the biggest red flags is his attempt to make Fanny responsible for his character, with an attitude of ‘you’re such an angel, you can make me do whatever you want’. This gives me Tenant of Wildfell Hall vibes, where Helen’s aunt tries to warn her off thinking that an older man of the world will let himself be guided and led by a younger woman who is in his power. Fanny rejects this idea: Henry knows what is right, can make his own choice to do it, and she will not let herself be appropriated as his conscience. Henry isn’t debauched like Huntington, but if Fanny married him the chances of him feeling bored after some years - when he no longer has the thrill of the pursuit to keep him interested - and pursuing other flirtations and affairs to Fanny’s misery, seems pretty high based on his character; and he’s skilled enough at skirting the line that he could easily brush away any objections from her as “oh, it’s nothing, just being sociable.”

On top of all the faults of character - even if Henry did reform, I have trouble seeing Fanny and Henry being happy together. At the core of his personality is a need for change, for stimulus, for challenge (the latter, rather than sexual desire, is the main thing driving his string of conquests), and for company. Fanny, in contrast, very much prefers quiet and the company of a few people she is close to, and I think this is her genuine personality, not something that needs to be overcome by “bringing her out of her shell”. Henry would be bored to misery living the kind of lifestyle that Fanny is comfortable with, and Fanny would be deeply unhappy living in the social whirl and flurry of activity that Henry prefers. In contrast, Fanny and Edmund are both “me after a quiet day in: time for a quiet night in” people.

So, with all this, why is Henry/Fanny a popular AU? Apart from fannish dislike of Edmund (which I don’t share), I think part of it is that we don’t get an open confrontation between Fanny and Henry, the way we do between Elizabeth and Darcy, where she lays out her objections to him: I saw you flirting with both my cousins at once, I saw you making them both unhappy for your own amusement, I saw you repeatedly tempting Maria to break her engagement with no intention of following through if she did, just because you liked the challenge of winning an engaged woman. And the lack of this naturally raises the question of: how would Henry react if this confrontation happened? Which provides fertile soil for AUs.

#jane austen #mansfield park #fanny price #henry crawford #mary crawford

[jackoshadows]

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” - Pride and Prejudice "Only half a hundred times," Dany teased. "You gave up too easily, my lord. For I must marry, all agree." "A khaleesi must have a khal," said Irri, as she filled the queen's cup once again. "This is known." - Daenerys, ADWD.

I have been listening to Austen on my way to work everyday. Finished P&P and have taken up Mansfield Park. It's, IMO, singularly boring and not as entertaining as the rest of Austen's work. It's incredibly slow, there's pages and pages of events that does not push the plot forward - like the play the Bertrams and Crawfords put on - and Fanny is the least interesting of Austen's female leads.

There have been discussions on how, in terms of Austen heroines, Arya Stark comes closest to Elizabeth Bennet with regards to her questioning of the patriarchal ideals of femininity, her wit and vivacity, as detailed here and here.

However, I did notice some similarities between the characters/dynamics of Mansfield Park, the Starks of ASoIaF and one my asoiaf ships Jonrya!

First, there is 10 year old Fanny feeling the outcast and lonely at Mansfield Park until Edmund steps in and befriends her.

Afraid of everybody, ashamed of herself, and longing for the home she had left, she knew not how to look up, and could scarcely speak to be heard, or without crying. Her feelings were very acute, and too little understood to be properly attended to. Nobody meant to be unkind, but nobody put themselves out of their way to secure her comfort. - Fanny, MP

Reminds me of Arya in King's Landing feeling lonely and missing her home, brothers and especially Jon Snow.

That was when Arya missed her brothers most. She wanted to tease Bran and play with baby Rickon and have Robb smile at her. She wanted Jon to muss up her hair and call her “little sister” and finish her sentences with her. But all of them were gone. She had no one left but Sansa, and Sansa wouldn’t even talk to her unless Father made her. - Arya, AgoT

She went back to the window, Needle in hand, and looked down into the courtyard below. If only she could climb like Bran, she thought; she would go out the window and down the tower, run away from this horrible place, away from Sansa and Septa Mordane and Prince Joffrey, from all of them. Steal some food from the kitchens, take Needle and her good boots and a warm cloak. She could find Nymeria in the wild woods below the Trident, and together they’d return to Winterfell, or run to Jon on the Wall. She found herself wishing that Jon was here with her now. Then maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone. - Arya, AGoT

We have Fanny sad and feeling like no one really understands or cares for her and then being comforted by Edmund.

A week had passed in this way, and no suspicion of it conveyed by her quiet passive manner, when she was found one morning by her cousin Edmund, the youngest of the sons, sitting crying on the attic stairs. “My dear little cousin,” said he, with all the gentleness of an excellent nature, “what can be the matter?” And sitting down by her, he was at great pains to overcome her shame in being so surprised, and persuade her to speak openly.

This mirrors Arya's relationship with Jon, where we know he is whom she goes to for solace and companionship - not her father, mother or other siblings. It's Jon Snow. Like getting bullied over her appearance leading to her thinking she was a bastard and getting comforted by Jon Snow.

"A shade more fun than needlework," Arya gave back at him. Jon grinned, reached over, and messed up her hair. Arya flushed. They had always been close. Jon had their father's face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her. - Arya, AGoT

Edmund and Fanny becoming very close and Edmund helping Fanny get pen and paper to write home and selling his own horse to get a new horse for Fanny so that she can go riding - which she loves to do!

For a long while no answer could be obtained beyond a “no, no—not at all—no, thank you”; but he still persevered; and no sooner had he begun to revert to her own home, than her increased sobs explained to him where the grievance lay. He tried to console her. “If that be all your difficulty, I will furnish you with paper and every other material, and you may write your letter whenever you choose. Would it make you happy to write to William?” - MP

Though Edmund was much more displeased with his aunt than with his mother, as evincing least regard for her niece, he could not help paying more attention to what she said; and at length determined on a method of proceeding which would obviate the risk of his father’s thinking he had done too much, and at the same time procure for Fanny the immediate means of exercise, which he could not bear she should be without. He had three horses of his own, but not one that would carry a woman. Two of them were hunters; the third, a useful road-horse: this third he resolved to exchange for one that his cousin might ride; he knew where such a one was to be met with; and having once made up his mind, the whole business was soon completed. The new mare proved a treasure; with a very little trouble she became exactly calculated for the purpose, and Fanny was then put in almost full possession of her. - MP

Jon secretly gets a sword, light and thin, made especially to fit Arya's hands and gifts it to her because she wants to learn how to use a sword.

“I have something for you to take with you, and it has to be packed very carefully.”  Her face lit up. “A present?”  “You could call it that. Close the door.” Wary but excited, Arya checked the hall. "Nymeria, here. Guard." She left the wolf out there to warn of intruders and closed the door. By then Jon had pulled off the rags he'd wrapped it in. He held it out to her. Arya's eyes went wide. Dark eyes, like his. "A sword," she said in a small, hushed breath. "I can be fast," Arya said. "You'll have to work at it every day." He put the sword in her hands, showed her how to hold it, and stepped back. "How does it feel? Do you like the balance?" "I think so," Arya said. Arya ran to him for a last hug. "Put down the sword first," Jon warned her, laughing. She set it aside almost shyly and showered him with kisses. - Jon, AGoT

Then there are the other supporting characters.

There's Tom Bertram who's like Robb, the eldest son and heir who treats Fanny like a little sister.

Edmund was uniformly kind himself; and she had nothing worse to endure on the part of Tom than that sort of merriment which a young man of seventeen will always think fair with a child of ten. He was just entering into life, full of spirits, and with all the liberal dispositions of an eldest son, who feels born only for expense and enjoyment. His kindness to his little cousin was consistent with his situation and rights: he made her some very pretty presents, and laughed at her. - MP

There's a Mrs. Norris who is very similarly to Septa Mordane in her treatment of Fanny Vs the Bertram daughters, always putting down Fanny to uplift the other girls - similar to how the Septa drags Arya down to uplift Sansa. This has a detrimental effect on the Bertram girls just like it does for Sansa - encouraging them to be mean to Fanny in the same way Sansa/Jeyne mock Arya.

The Bertram sisters mock Fanny for not being good at music or drawing and is told by their aunt Norris that this indeed makes Fanny stupid.

“Yes, I know there is, till I am seventeen. But I must tell you another thing of Fanny, so odd and so stupid. Do you know, she says she does not want to learn either music or drawing.” “To be sure, my dear, that is very stupid indeed, and shows a great want of genius and emulation. But, all things considered, I do not know whether it is not as well that it should be so, for, though you know (owing to me) your papa and mama are so good as to bring her up with you, it is not at all necessary that she should be as accomplished as you are;—on the contrary, it is much more desirable that there should be a difference.”

And as Austen succinctly and rightly puts it, this sort of encouragement and mentorship from their aunt Norris leads to a lack of humility and generosity in the sisters.

Such were the counsels by which Mrs. Norris assisted to form her nieces’ minds; and it is not very wonderful that, with all their promising talents and early information, they should be entirely deficient in the less common acquirements of self-knowledge, generosity and humility. - MP

We see this in AGoT Sansa - the lack of self-awareness, of humility and generosity in the way she treats Arya, Jon, the small folk, Mycah and even Jeyne Poole. Septa Mordane's thoughts and opinions have had a negative effect on ALL her pupils. It's encouraged Arya's low self-esteem and Sansa's vanity and classism.

And while Septa Mordane, Sansa and Catelyn always put Sansa on a higher pedestal than Arya in terms of perfection, intelligence and beauty, it's Jon Snow who considers Arya to be clever and pretty.

"What could you want to see?" Sansa said, annoyed. She had been thrilled by the invitation, and her stupid sister was going to ruin everything, just as she'd feared. "It's all just fields and farms and holdfasts." "Hodor!" Sansa yelled. "You ought to marry Hodor, you're just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!" She wrenched away from her sister's hand, stormed into her bedchamber, and barred the door behind her. - Sansa, AGoT

But what if Arya was not there to be saved? What if Lady Melisandre's flames had told it true? Could his sister truly have escaped such captors? How would she do that? Arya was always quick and clever, but in the end she's just a little girl, and Roose Bolton is not the sort who would be careless with a prize of such great worth. - Jon, ADwD

"Good." She had never cared if she was pretty, even when she was stupid Arya Stark. Only her father had ever called her that. Him, and Jon Snow, sometimes. Her mother used to say she could be pretty if she would just wash and brush her hair and take more care with her dress, the way her sister did. To her sister and sister's friends and all the rest, she had just been Arya Horseface. - Arya, ADwD

And despite aunt Norris and the Bertram girls finding Fanny to be deficient and stupid, Edmund thinks of her as clever and capable.

“To be sure, my dear, that is very stupid indeed, and shows a great want of genius and emulation. - Aunt Norris, MP

Kept back as she was by everybody else, his single support could not bring her forward; but his attentions were otherwise of the highest importance in assisting the improvement of her mind, and extending its pleasures. He knew her to be clever, to have a quick apprehension as well as good sense, and a fondness for reading, which, properly directed, must be an education in itself. - Edmund, MP

Fanny has a lot of love for Edmund, a mixture of gratitude and affection.

In return for such services she loved him better than anybody in the world except William: her heart was divided between the two. She regarded her cousin as an example of everything good and great, as possessing worth which no one but herself could ever appreciate, and as entitled to such gratitude from her as no feelings could be strong enough to pay. Her sentiments towards him were compounded of all that was respectful, grateful, confiding, and tender. - MP

Edmund and Fanny consider themselves brother and sister, love each other that way and there is a strong emotion there between them.

"By eight in the morning Edmund was in the house. The girls heard his entrance from above, and Fanny went down. The idea of immediately seeing him, with the knowledge of what he must be suffering, brought back all her own first feelings. He so near her, and in misery. She was ready to sink as she entered the parlour. He was alone, and met her instantly; and she found herself pressed to his heart with only these words, just articulate, 'My Fanny, my only sister; my only comfort now!' She could say nothing; nor for some minutes could he say more." - MP

“What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? Bring her home, Mance., and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl. - Jon, ADwD

Despite growing up together, Edmund and Fanny do part as Edmund goes to college and Fanny stays at home. They write to each other and keep in touch, which Jon and Arya cannot do. And while going through their harrowing journeys (Arya) and climbing the ladder to Lord Commander (Jon) they miss each other dearly and want to see each other again.

There are of course differences. I find Jon's love and admiration/respect for Arya to be greater than Edmund's for Fanny. Jon thinks Arya is perfect as is while Edmund sees himself as helping Fanny grow as a person. All the girls Jon admires or falls in love with mirror Arya in terms of personality, looks and physicality (Ygritte, Alys, Val). Jon straight up compares Ygritte and Alys to Arya. In contrast Edmund falls for Mary Crawford who is the opposite of Fanny and where Fanny and Mary are compared with each other in the book. Jon is searching for an Arya in every girl he meets, right from ACoK, while Edmund only acknowledges that Fanny is the person for him at the very end. And then there's the difference in Arya and Fanny, where Arya has more in common with an Elizabeth Bennet than with Fanny herself. And Jon is no Edmund.

So yeah. I remember reading somewhere that GRRM has read Jane Austen. So these similarities are fun even if they were not intended or are wholly unrelated.

#Arya Stark #Jon Snow #Jonrya #Austen

[slaygentford]

the jdcu: a comparative analysis in fact and fiction

several months ago I watched the netflix program mindhunter. this was a normal experience until I found out it is based on a memoir -- the work of 77 year old ex FBI agent John Douglas (jd). indeed, he is the man behind every behavioral analyst character youve ever seen, most notably jack crawford of silence of the lambs/Thomas Harris's novels, which consulted him personally.

I could not believe that those jds -- jack crawford and far more, as it turns out -- were based on the same man that jd of the show mindhunter was based on. mindhunter tv's jd is like if m3gan was a gay keebler elf. his girlfriend tells him to use his womanly wiles on murderers to get them to talk! and he does so -- the harlot! I was stunned. 77 year old ex FBI agent John Douglas consented for this little freak to be his eidolon forever on netflix? who even IS John Douglas?

and so I am compelled by intellectual curiosity to ask: by watching all jds ever committed to screen, can we qualify the multitude that is jd? and, after hearing John Douglas speak on John Douglas in his own words, can we decide who among the many is the most accurate fictional depiction? to conduct this study which is a really good use of my time, we begin by sorting the fictional jds into two categories: slaygent and hard boiled detective. after this, we will compare them to jd in his own words -- that is, his memoir and his masterclass.

mindhunter tv: let us begin where the problem first surfaced. much has been said about patient zero holden ford. a youthful thirty, he begins a career of seducing real life serial killers to learn about their behavior and so forth. many times I asked: girl what kind of interview is this? in the interest of time I will simply say that this evil roomba created and defines the slaygent category.

silence of the lambs: the next logical move. here we encounter the original and most famous fictional jd: jack crawford. despite a strong effort to manufacture chemistry with jodie foster, he is sadly still a man. three words I would use to describe this jd are Svelte, Serves in a trenchcoat, and Succinct. he falls in the middle of the slaygent/hard boiled Venn diagram.

manhunter: this jack is adorned with a rare and compelling mustache. in one scene he shouts, AND I'D DO IT AGAIN! I was not paying attention at this point to what he would do again but I did not doubt he would do it. no dignity, all exhaustion. hard boiled.

Hannibal nbc: jack crawford receives a much needed reboot! Laurence fishburne gives a nuanced and honestly moving performance of a man for whom meaning is unraveling one day at a time. this jack is sartorially aware but practical, and remains empathetic despite his painful job. hard boiled

the alienist: dr laszlo is our first sherlock holmes* archetype -- somehow this has not cropped up before now. with his difficulty relating to people, his lovely coat with a fur collar, and his genuinely sharp observations, laszlo alienist emerges as a dark horse slaygent.

*due to its original publication date, Sherlock Holmes and successive properties are not relevant to a John Douglas study.

criminal minds (& related procedurals): cm's david rossi, along with his counterparts across other networks, are unilaterally hard boiled.

though hardboiled jds prevail in quantity, slaygents are not necessarily an anomaly. now the moment of truth: is the real jd a holden ford or a jack crawford?

Mindhunter (book):

while reading this book I began to feel...discomfited. and not just because it's 400 pages of self aggrandizing ghostwritten prose. something was wrong. it wasn't until, in the last five pages of the gauntlet, that it all cohered.

jd and his wife separated because work kept him away, because he barely knew his children, and because when his daughter skinned her knee he couldn't find much empathy for the scrape because of the shit he saw all day. this isnt the unmarried antisocial slaygent ford who began our odyssey. this isn't even the stylish and heterosexual Jack Crawford of silence of the lambs, nor our mustachioed manhunter. a man who lacked empathy for his child? whose marriage crumbled? who thinks shrinks are dumb as hell? whose main recourse in difficult moments is to remind himself that serial killers are nothing but "inadequate losers" -- of no inherent interest to him outside of their contributions to his noble mission to stop serial killing?

whatever answer remains, however unfuckable, is the truth: holden ford -- and indeed any slaygent -- has never been John Douglas at all. even jack crawford is barely a jd himself. we've been overlooking the real jd all along. and he was right under our noses. hiding like the adder, right in plain sight.

the bill tench paradigm shift

a chain-smoking vet whose wife leaves him because he thinks their kid sucks? an unapproachable asshole clinging to his slippery moral high ground?

target locked.

but make no mistake. this is not yet a victory. if bill tench was right before us all along, then how many jds did I overlook with my narrow definition of a jd??? has hubris bested me again? who will we find now that the truth is blown open before us? how will we wrangle this new data into a useful paradigm? what does paradigm actually mean and can I use it in a sentence like that? questions we must answer.

I propose an ontological compromise. if we set slaygent at one end of a spectrum and the true jd at the other, we may examine all jds and potential jds without compromising the integrity of the real/tench jd, AND without ignoring the fact that slaygent ford is BILLED AS jd. indeed, slaygent and jd CAN coexist -- it is only that their differences must be accounted for.

below are MANY, though not every, possible jd.

now to the final frontier: www.masterclass.com, where for the low low price of 100 dollars you can access celebrities just verbatim reading from their memoirs. literally just verbatim reading from them. like I'm not joking like you could just go to fucking barnes and noble.

mindhunter (masterclass by jd): the discovery of this masterclass was a windfall in my work (thank you cj). now, at last, to the knowledge gleaned. jd (real) is man with white hair and a very slight New York accent. he is well fit for his age with minimal male pattern baldness. he confirms everything we have discovered regarding the bill tench paradigm shift; gruff, to-the-point, sardonic. even his controlled mannerisms are tenchian.

and so I must ask: from whence did the slaygent archetype spring? and why did jd consent for the scary keebler elf to be his proxy? despite the depth of my work, I cannot access the mind of this man, nor the circumstances which gave rise to these anomalies in the continuum.

still. in the indefatigable spirit of jd himself, I feel a theory nipping, nibbling at my ear. I mentioned sherlock holmes before, and now some unwanted voice within me calls out that very name. is it Holmes who shapes the slaygents into his image, even from beyond the grave? has all of this been a prelude to the real work -- the work of examining and classifying every Holmes committed to screen?

like vercingetorix, exhausted by the struggle, here I toss down my arms. with or without me, though, the jd quest continues. what doors remain unopened? what slaygent homunculi lay in wait behind them? and what will become of us, if we knock?

#well

[taylor-on-your-dash]

GIRLZ HOLLAND - PUBLISHED ON JANUARY 7, 2011

I'm slowly (very slowly) transcribing Taylor's interviews for my Interviews Timeline, and I came across some interviews in foreign languages on TaylorPictures.net, like this one. This is an experiment, I randomly picked one and I "translated" them with Google Translate (I can translate Italian and German but I can't speak any more languages).

An interesting thing about this interview is Taylor saying that all of her relationship from the previous year had failed. It's crazy to think that All Too Well was in the making. Translation below the cut, and Happy belated Easter!

-The boys lie in rows at your feet. Has it always been that way?

LOVETALK MEETS TAYLOR SWIFT

Taylor Swift (21) is a tough chick who is not afraid to approach nice guys. After relationships with Taylor Lautner and Joe Jonas, she is now often spotted with Jake Gyllenhaal, but Taylor is saying nothing about it for the time being. She does talk a lot about one of her favorite topics: loooove!

-'Not actually, no. I really didn't have much success in love in the past. It was so bad that out of insecurity I paired the boys I liked with my girlfriends. I managed to arrange dates for everyone except myself. The advantage of this was that I became friends with all the boys at school, but on the other hand, that was of course not really fun. Sometimes I fell in love with a boy who mainly saw me as a BFF and then fell in love with someone else. Then I could cry..."

-You must have been very popular at school with all that matching work!

-'No. it was not! The girls at my school were a bit bitchy and they were very jealous because I was so good with the boys. They also bullied me because of my... glasses with thick lenses. I have pretty bad eyesight and was regularly called 'Jampot'. Actually, I didn't really fit in anywhere, because I was very different from all my classmates. I was pretty quiet in class and kept busy writing lyrics. I didn't really care what they thought of me. Somehow I was just sure that I would eventually go further than everyone else.

-Which type of guys do you actually like?

-'I don't have one specific type, but I mainly like guys who have a passion. I find someone who loves his job or is completely absorbed in a certain hobby very attractive. I used to think it was especially cool if a boy had a nice car, wore cool clothes and all that. looked good. Now none of that matters to me anymore. I am especially looking for a boy with a strong character, whom I can trust completely."

-But your famous ex-boyfriends aren't exactly ugly, right?

-'Um… that's true. But I find someone Not really ugly anyway. And of course it's no problem if my future boyfriend is the biggest hunk in town. I just want to point out that the appearance is not the first thing I fall for. On the other hand, Chace Crawford is a guy I won't say no to! In short, like everyone else, appearance is partly decisive for me, but in a bad way I lose character very quickly. And besides, in the end, handsome boys just become old grandpas with dentures."

-Are famous boys an advantage or a turn-off for you?

-That in itself doesn't really matter to me. It usually clicks more quickly with someone who is also in the world. For other boys, my fame is often clearly something puts them off a bit. It makes me very uncomfortable when they find out who I am and then start praising me. Boys who are also in the spotlight will understand that faster. I'd rather be treated like an ordinary girl than a superstar.

-What kind of guys can't stand you?

-'I am very sensitive and I talk a lot. What I really hate are guys who have nothing to say and just say "yes" or "hmm" to everything. Those closed types who don't talk about anything are of no use to you. And what I also find a turn-off are guys who drink a lot and want to go out every weekend. I'm a bit of a homebody and I like it if the other person can be the same every now and then.'

-Do you dare to tell your friends if you don't like their new lover?

-'Absolutely! Isn't that why you're friends? When you are in love, you often look through rose-colored glasses. Then some properties are not noticeable. My friends are everything to me. If done right, they will last longer than any crush."

-As a former queen of couples, do you have any good tips for seducing someone?

-'Just because I'm a good matchmaker doesn't mean I'll make anything of it, right? Last year all my relationships failed. When it comes to love, I have no idea how to go about it. That is different in every situation, so I would actually advise: just go with your feeling. Last time I jumped straight into the deep end. That was great and very exciting, but in the end it also hurt me a lot. The time before I worked carefully and exploratively and it didn't yield anything for me. That also hurts quite a lot, I can tell you.'

-What do you think is the best cure for a broken heart?

-'You just have to do a lot of things that make you very happy. I am also very optimistic. A sad day. being is fine, but inside I know that the sun will shine again. For the rest I write everything down. That's why so many of my songs are about broken loves.'

-Do you regret some things that have happened to you in the area of ​​love?

-'No, I wouldn't have missed all my adventures for anything. These were all important life lessons that I will benefit from in the future. So I don't regret anything.

Which love lesson has been the most important so far?

-"I've learned that nothing is set in stone. That's a terrible conclusion for someone like me, who likes to plan and organize. But love can't be forced. You can want it to last forever, but before you know it, it can It has to come from both sides and both parties have to be fully committed to it.'

-In other words: love is...

-'Like a dice. Love cannot be predicted. Sometimes you roll a six in one go, sometimes only after ten rolls!'

#taylor swift #taylor swift interviews #girlz holland 2011

[macabrecravings]

Fate Takes a Turn

Chapter 1: Abduction

Julie Crawford/Sonny Williams || Maria Flores/Danny Gaines, Ana Flores/Leland McKinney, Connie Taylor/Original Character

A/N: Today @thedrakonian18 and I released the first chapter of Fated Lover's sequel!!! :D This fic takes place within the events of the game, but it will be a diversion. Instead of being killed, Maria gets abducted.

Before Maria could swing at the giant, Sissy snatched the bat out of her hand and held her down. “PLEASE! DONT! DONT! PLEASE LET ME GOOOO!!!!!!” She screamed, tears flowing down her cheeks. Sissy’s grip was firm. For her size, she was surprisingly strong. The giant man with the chainsaw was about to end Maria’s life until the other man in the room stopped him.

“Woah, now! Hold on, boy,” He urged, holding a hand out to ease the taller man. He spoke slowly as if he was speaking to a dog.

“Johnny! What’s the meaning of this?!” Sissy snapped at him, crossing her arms. They were so close to getting dinner!

The man– Johnny, sighed briefly before chuckling. “Well, she’s a real purty one, ain’t she?” He stepped forward, walking over to Sissy and Maria. He cupped his fingers under her chin, forcing Maria to look him in the eye.

Sissy scoffed. “If we let every girl go, just cause you thought she was pretty, we would’ve starved ages ago. You ain’t gone soft now, have you?”

Johnny’s face dropped at the accusation. He let go of Maria’s face, so he could scowl in Sissy’s. “Of course, I ain’t gone fuckin’ soft. Get your head outta your ass. This girl right here? She’s different.” He grabbed a hold of Maria’s arm, hard. “Ain’t no harm in keepin’ her around, is there?”

“You’re joking.” The disbelief was clear in Sissy’s voice. She stared at him like she had no idea who he was. “Of course there’s harm in keepin’ her around. You know Drayton would kill you next if she got out. Don’t be so selfish, stop thinking with your dick and let the boy take her already.” She hissed, pulling Maria closer to her chest. The two of them were practically playing tug-of-war with her as the rope.

Read on AO3

#maria flores #sissy slaughter #johnny slaughter #sissy sawyer #tcm game #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny sawyer #fate takes a turn #original post🍓💌 #my writing📕💌 #others’ writing🍄✨

[phoenixkaptain]

The all-consuming urge to do a character breakdown of Will Graham from Red Dragon…

They changed Will a lot from the books to the show. And don’t get me wrong, I love them both, but book Will Graham is so… silent.

He doesn’t speak to people. When he does, his responses are curt. He’s blunt. He doesn’t give a single fuck about hurting people’s feelings. Other people don’t like working with him. He’s quiet but intent and nothing fazes him. He can be insulted to his face and he just does not respond.

He’s a very nervous person, and rightfully so. But it’s a different nervous than Will in the show. Will in the show is very twitchy, Will in the book is still. Will can tell when psychiatrists (coughChiltoncoughcough) are trying to read him and he is Unimpressed.

When Lecter tries to derail the conversation, Will gets up to leave, and even says goodbye. Lecter says Will can’t appeal to his vanity, but when Will brings up Dr. Bloom being on the case, Lecter insists on looking over the files. He’s intimidated by Lecter, downright afraid and more than a little traumatized by Lecter, yet he still handles Lecter with finesse.

(If Dr. Bloom’s secretaries were better about not giving out people’s addresses to strangers on the phone, Will probably never would’ve been stabbed in the face.)

He isn’t exactly confident, but he knows when he’s right. He’s cold to people. People are scared of him. People don’t understand him.

He calls his wife all the time to get distracted from the case when it gets to be too much, and he genuinely seems to like Molly a lot, but Silence of the Lambs tells us that they don’t stay together.

Will doesn’t kill Dolarhyde. Molly kills Dolarhyde. She shoots him until she runs out of bullets. Will just gets stabbed in the face and runs until he collapses.

Will had a good conversation with a psychiatrist all of once in his entire life, and then that psychiatrist turned out to be a cannibalistic serial killer who obsesses over him. Will had a wife and a son and dogs and he loved them, and they left him. Will thought he was finally, finally done with Crawford and murder and serial killers, then he got stabbed in the face when he put his guard down.

I understand why they changed Will. I’ve heard people say that he’s difficult to relate to. He’s difficult to understand or like. He’s an alcoholic who pisses off a murderer on purpose and he’s so tired.

The biggest change is how much Crawford has to push him.

Will in the book is wheedled into it, but he refuses to do anything unless he has to. He refuses to see Lecter until he feels like he has to. He refuses to speak to anyone until someone else tells him to. He refuses to leave his hotel room unless Crawford drags him. That isn’t to say he doesn’t want to catch Dolarhyde. He definitely does. He just really wishes that he wasn’t the bait.

He’s an interesting character. He understands murder. He says that there’s a reason for the Dragon to bite his victims aside from sex, because there no hickeys. He says that it’s likely their suspect has never been incarcerated before. Lecter gives his opinion and then says that Will already thought of it, and Will had. He knows things. He’s haunted by things. He’s traumatized.

He figured out Lecter was the Ripper. Lecter figured out that Will knew. And Will asked him if he could leave to use the telephone down the hall. Perhaps more absurd, Lecter let him, and only stabbed Will after Will had already outed him. But that’s Lecter, Hannibal Lecter is the absolute most absurd character in all of fiction, I just find the image hilarious, like: “…may I borrow your telephone?” to the person you know painstakingly recreated the Wound Man with a corpse, as well as on paper.

I love book Will Graham. I am obsessed with his nonchalance that masks his terror. I adore that he got a Christmas card from Lecter and burned it. I can’t stop thinking about him, alone in an unfamiliar hotel room and surrounded by gruesome images of the cruelest of mankind’s mind, trying to use alcohol as a lifesaver so he doesn’t sink so deep that he can never resurface. Crawford thinks that as long as the criminal is ultimately found, it’s fine even if Will breaks.

The criminal is found. And Will most certainly breaks.

#the inane ramblings of a madman #red dragon #hannibal #will graham #hannibal lecter #jack crawford #book will fills me with sorrow #his life fell apart when lecter stabbed him three years prior #and now that he’s finally scraped together something that could resemble a place he feels safe #crawford drags him back out #and throws him back in the trenches #will is just a sad man who falls apart #and no one bothers to try and put him back together #and it pains me #life would be so much easier if will just murdered people #but he sticks to his guns #and all he gets for his morals #is debilitating scars #it’s so #well #if there’s one thing i can say about harris #it’s that he really excels at making men who i want to give hugs to #long post

[nik-jr-lit]

Edmund did not settle for Fanny

From her very first days in Mansfield Park, Edmund reaches out to Fanny when nobody else does and offers her kindness and understanding. He consoles her when she misses her family, and even sends money in the mail for William when he hears that she loves him best, and from that moment onward they are friends.

"Without any display of doing more than the rest, or any fear of doing too much, he was always true to her interests, and considerate of her feelings, trying to make her good qualities understood, and to conquer the diffidence which prevented their being more apparent; giving her advice, consolation, and encouragement."

When Fanny no longer has a horse, Edmund allows her to ride his. He is the only one to be concerned with Fanny's health in the family; when she was out on a hot day, walking and cutting roses, it is him alone who is concerned and frustrated at her maltreatment. On a number of occasions he elects to either speak for Fanny when she's being misunderstood or condemned or he chooses silence to give her the space to speak her own truth and be her own person, much to her chagrin. We know those moments are necessary for her growth, though. Before he chooses to take a role in the play, he comes to Fanny for her advice and opinion, and he visits her to rehearse his big scene with Miss Crawford. When Sir Thomas returns home, he is sure to exonerate Fanny from all fault and folly. "You will find Fanny everything you could wish."

While others are exasperated and cannot fathom why Fanny doesn't love Mr. Crawford, Edmund understands in an instant (at least a portion of the truth). His father sends him out to talk to Fanny and ascertain her true feelings, because nobody knows her as well as he does. Even while he's trying to make Fanny see reason and give Mr. Crawford a chance, he expresses his incredibly high regard of her: "He will make you happy, Fanny; I know he will make you happy; but you will make him everything."

Yes, he did fall in love with Miss Crawford. He forgot Fanny when he let Mary borrow the horse and in the forest in Sotherton. It is true that he overlooks Miss Crawford's faults and perceives her through rose tinted glasses. But let's not forget how happy Edmund becomes whenever Miss Crawford praises Fanny or shows her kindness, how incredibly awestruck he becomes when the "two dearest objects [he has] on earth" become friends. "She [Miss Crawford] never appeared more amiable than in her behaviour to you [Fanny] last night. It gave her a very strong claim on my goodwill." He believes that Fanny will have great moral influence on Henry and Mary, and undoubtedly he seeks out her counsel and advice because he regards her so highly.

He is awestruck by Mary's beauty, and attributes her appearance and worldly skills to beauty and purity of mind and disposition. When she expresses opinions that he finds crude, immoral, or worldly, he accredits these demerits to her upbringing rather than her character. He continuously seeks to change her mind about his profession, the value of the country (vs the city), and income/class. In short, he fell in love with her appearance, wit, skills, and talents, and he hoped to refine her untoward ideals during their courtship/marriage.

Contrastingly, Edmund has loved Fanny for her goodness, kindness, sincerity, and strong moral compass from the very beginning. ""I think the man who could often quarrel with Fanny must be beyond the reach of any sermons," said Edmund affectionately." He sees Fanny's good qualities - and how neglected they are by the rest of the family - and seeks to encourage her. He defends her, wishes nothing but the best for her, confides in her, and respects her. He sees Crawford's great exertions to win over her affection and believes that "Fanny was worth it all; he held her to be worth every effort of patience, every exertion of mind." It is only later on that he begins to view Fanny as physically attractive. "You must really begin to harden yourself to the idea of being worth looking at. You must try not to mind growing up into a pretty woman." Though Edmund is never as awestruck by Fanny's beauty or skill as he is Mary's, he recognizes that her good character, judgement, and strong morals are worth cherishing.

There is good reason to believe that, had Mary Crawford upheld morals that coincide with Edmund's, he would have preferred her as a wife. But as it stands, she was stubborn in valuing class, social appearance, and income over what is truly right and just. The Mrs. Rushworth & Mr. Crawford drama was the straw that broke the camel's back, but it could have just as easily been any other circumstance that they disagreed on. Though Mary would be the preferred option, it should not be believed that Edmund simply settled for Fanny. He knew that Fanny was unlike Mary in disposition, and began to realize "whether a very different kind of woman might not do just as well, or a great deal better" as his life companion. It was indeed an adjustment to begin to regard Fanny with affection unlike that for a sister, but as he spent his time with her, confiding in her as he's always done, he learned to prefer her "soft light eyes to sparkling dark ones." We are reminded that "even in the midst of his late infatuation, he had acknowledged Fanny's mental superiority," which we saw time and time again throughout the novel. He sought out Fanny's advice when scruples arose, not Mary's. His marriage to Fanny complements his character's strong desire to do what is right, proper, and kind. Edmund's character is tested during the novel's events, and there are times that he is tempted and fails; his redemption is found in refusing Miss Crawford and instead electing to be with a woman who upholds the values he loves and believes in. Fanny undoubtedly guides him morally, as he did for her in their youth, while Mary would have tested and tempted him continually.

In short, Edmund did not settle for Fanny. I believe he reached upwards for her.

#mansfield park #fanny price #edmund bertram #jane austen #team fanny #miss crawford #classic lit

[anncanta]

Will Graham: ‘I know who I am’

One of the most interesting things about the Hannibal series is that although it is named after Hannibal Lecter, it is actually the story of Will Graham. This whole film is about him, all the events are tied to him and centered around him. Will is both the main point of meaning and the point of the big bang from which the story is born. As the first season progresses and beyond, it becomes clear that it's not just Hannibal who is in love with Will—the writer and directors also are.

And this is no coincidence. Good storytellers (and all readers) know that a story doesn't need a villain or a conflict, although it's good to have both. A story needs a hero, a main character who is interesting to watch.

And Will is interesting to watch. When I tried to watch this series for the first and second time, I made a mistake—I looked at Hannibal. And, of course, I was disappointed. Because there's nothing to see there. Mads Mikkelsen is wonderful, he is good from any angle and in any pose, but the character of Hannibal ceases to amaze after five minutes. I'll say a terrible thing, but by about the third episode he is perceived as furniture. Everyone, absolutely all the characters beat Hannibal one-handed. The entire Jack Crawford team, from Alana Bloom, to the wonderful pair of forensic scientists Zeller and Price (it's hard to resist the assumption that this is a reference to Webber and Rice) and the beautiful and smart Beverly Katz, is amazing. So are the restless and youthfully cynical Abigail, the buffoonishly sassy Dr. Chilton and Freddie Lounds—a red-haired paparazzi with no brains, but with ambitions. What a delight! And in the middle of it all is Will. It is simply impossible to tear yourself away from him.

He is so smart, warm, lively. So different from any mold, cheerful, talented, kind. Perfectly aware of his limitations and aware that others are unlikely to understand that he understands. Irritated not because the people around him are stupider than him, but because he sees the beauty of the world, which cuts him with its sharpness. Everyone is drawn to him, everyone wants to be friends with him, everyone is literally fighting for his affection and attention. They don't even notice how, by his very existence, he does what Hannibal desperately strives for—conquers people.

The first and third seasons are very clearly contrasted. The first is about Will and, so to speak, shown ‘from Will’. This season is light, breathing, open. The third one is extremely decorative, artificial. It is made up of exquisite and ‘expensive’ parts, like puzzles, which in the end do not fit together into anything. The third season is about Hannibal. It is told through the eyes of a psychopath and about a psychopath. In a certain sense, this season is the most boring, because, moving inside the maniac, we discover that there is nothing there—just gilding on a door that leads nowhere. It is the eternal threshold—like the entrance to the palace of the mind. A chapel, but behind it there is no palace. We don't get there not because we're not allowed to, but because there's emptiness there.

Throughout the series, we see Hannibal trying to become the protagonist of the story. It seems to him that if he pulls the strings, then he controls the lives of others, he weaves fate, weaves webs for others. But he simply sews an eye from the dead, because he himself is internally blind. And he understands this.

There is insight where there is another. This is the only way to go beyond oneself. Hannibal is looking for this way out, habitually tightening the noose on one neck of the other. Until he discovers that he pulled it on himself. And only then does he give up.

Do you know what else is needed to get out and be free?

Free will.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc

[hellpontifex]

what's good squad

#— crawford speaking. ( out of character )

[yssa3002]

Old-Time Tradition: Folk Musical: Hello Dolly by Gene Kelly, 1969

Opening Thoughts

Gene Kelly's Hello Dolly (1969) is set in New York City in the 1890s, and follows the charming antics of widowed matchmaker, Dolly Levi (Barbara Streisand). While working as the marriage broker for wealthy business man, Horace Vandegelder (Walter Mathau), Dolly begins meddling in the romantic lives of Vandegelder's niece who is in love with a man he does not approve of, and of his head clerk whom he never gives a night off. All the while, Dolly is scheming to advance her own romantic aspirations. The story takes us from Yonkers to the shining streets of New York City where the characters experience life and love like never before.

What do the musical numbers signify about identity in the course of the film's narrative?

The film opens with a solo sung by Dolly, clearly conveying her charming, meddling, and involved personality. The song, "Just Leave Everything to Me", asserts her as someone who knows people, and whom specializes in arranging people's lives, singing, "I'll arrange for making all arrangements". This opening number sets the tone for the rest of the film as the rest of the characters soon fall into Dolly's respective plans for them. The firmness of her personality is further asserted in a musical number towards the end of the film, "So Long Dearie", where she does not bother to waste her efforts anymore on a man who rejects her. The next song, "It Takes a Woman" sung by Horace and an ensemble of men working at his shop, is a bit ironic as it is about how "it takes a woman, all powdered and pink/ To joyously clean out the drain the sink". This song makes audiences aware of the time period, as it speaks strongly to female identity, and how they were expected to perform all of the home keeping tasks, but with a smile of course. However, the song is quite silly as even though it puts the man in the position of power, it is Dolly who takes charge not only over her life, but of those around her including Horace's.

The film's narrative is one of finding love, and therefore, over the course of the film, the music creates a joyous and light hearted sense of being swept away in the various emotions love brings. Since the cast is primarily white, and follows the stories of white characters, the story is void of social issues that would be present in the lives of the cast were they not white during this time period. It is because of this I think, that the film is able to tell this story of love taking precedence over social and economic status.

What is the purpose of the songs in the character's lives?

Over the course of the film, the musical numbers convey the desires of the main cast, whether they are waiting for love, wanting to experience new things in life, or moving on from mourning. For example, Cornelius (Michael Crawford) and Barnaby (Danny Lockin), two young men who work for Horace, conceal their identity to pose as prominent figures in the New York City social scene in order to woo the girls whom Dolly has set them up with. Without much money to their name, they see it necessary to pretend to be something they're not so that they might get to experience love and luxury even just for a day. Listen below, musical number "Elegance".

Many of the songs also serve as catalysts, connecting one segment of the narrative into the other. Especially with large ensemble numbers with no dialogue, and music coming from outside the diegesis. For example, the number, "Dancing", is a cheery song about overcoming fears surrounding not knowing how to dance--which really represents the Cornelius' fear of being caught in the lie that he is rich. For Cornelius, learning to dance is a way of freeing himself from his reservations as he gains the confidence to pursue his love.

In his essay, "Is Car Wash A Musical?", Richard Dyer argues that a musical number in white musicals "embodies a sense of release from the confinement of everyday space and time, a glorious escape from the restrictions of modem living" (Dyer 95). This is how the numbers incorporate themselves into the character's lives, and how they create meaning in them. This is seen used in the film a lot in numbers like "Dancing", "Put On Your Sunday Clothes", and "Hello, Dolly!". In these scenes, the characters break into large scale, choreographed routines. The ensemble makes use of their space, whether they are in a park, a restaurant, or a platform at a train station.

In what ways are the songs and/or musical performances racialized and/or gendered?

Circling back to the beginning of the film, "It Takes a Woman" is clearly a very gendered number. Not only is the ensemble performing all male, but it talks about the want for a woman who does everything to keep herself pretty and "fragile", yet who is also happily willing to do several miscellaneous chores from "setting the table" to "cleaning the stable". Another example of a gendered musical number is Irene Molloy's (Marianne MacAndrews) "Ribbons Down My Back". This song speaks to her desire to find love, and how she will gladly wear ribbons down her back to be noticed by someone. The song looks to love with hope, and reinforces traditional female gender expectations by portraying Irene as the passive figure, simply waiting to catch a man's eye.

Moving away from the content of the songs, the way in which the songs themselves are performed and inserted into the narrative is a whole different story. The film falls within the characteristics of what it is that makes a white musical. These characteristics include non-diegetic music, reprises, cheery/love songs, and an escape from reality, topics I'll discuss further below.

What elements of the film align with White musicals’ longing to transform the ordinary into utopia?

Dyer speaks to the differences between white and black musicals, informing readers how race dictates how stories are communicated to their audiences. White musicals allow their white protagonists "opportunities for expansion and freedom", not confined to their reality alone as we briefly covered above when talking about how these numbers play into the character's lives (Dyer 95). The musical numbers are meant to remove the characters from the world, and insert them into some sort of utopia where music comes from nowhere and everyone knows the same dance.

A strong element of the white musical utilized in the film is reprise. Dyer says reprise is "generally used either to mark the change that has occurred in the narrative (...) or to signal the closure of the show" (Dyer 95). Reprise, of course, is repetition, but it serves the purpose of expressing growth, resolve, and a happy ending for our characters. the number "Hello, Dolly!" has a reprise at the end of the film, a big number with the whole cast to celebrate the marriage of Dolly and Horace, and effectively welcome her "back into the world" after she was away so long in mourning. In black musicals, repetition in the form of the reprise isn't common, rather repetition remains a more consistent part of the narrative.

Another way the film aligns itself with the longing to transform the ordinary into utopia is how characters burst into song. Unlike in black musicals where the music often comes from within the narrative space, such as a radio or someone playing an instrument. These sudden musical numbers work to create spaces, as Dyer says, "freed from labor" (Dyer 97). Whereas white protagonists are encouraged to experience joy outside of the material world, black musicals often convey black joy as being experienced while working. This reinforces social expectations, and limits the black experience in musicals to a more stationary life devoid of growth. The film, however, makes it very clear that white joy lies outside of work, as Cornelius and Barnaby's whole journey involves abandoning their jobs and eventually quitting as it isn't worth giving up their newfound love for.

How does the film reflect the temporal circularity of Black musicals?

To further on this concept of growth within black and white musicals, Dyer talks about the concept of temporal circularity in black musicals. In black musicals, this circularity encourages stasis, as there is this understanding of "spatial boundedness" and of how "Black people don't get out of their situation, eventually or geographically" (Dyer 102). With this, the possibility for characters in a black musical to change their circumstances for the better is discouraged, as Dyer writes, "The musical numbers do not take the characters out of the moment, "transport" them, resolve their problems; the emotions and experience of the music do not lead to fundamental changes in their situation" (Dyer 104). However, these themes more commonly seen in black musicals are reflected in the film.

Though white musicals are able to provide a vision for a better world, it is often just that. Hello, Dolly! reflects this to an extent. The film ends where it began, Yonkers, New York, but we still see growth despite the circularity. The final scene is of Dolly and Horace's wedding, and the two other couples, (Cornelius and Irene, and Vandegelder's niece, Ermengarde (Joyce Ames) and Ambrose (Tommy Tune)) are also to be married. So despite this circularity, the characters were able to fulfill their desires expressed throughout the film.

Discussion questions

From what you can gather, how do both white musicals and black musicals imagine happiness?

Why is it that black musicals and white musicals focus on "two different constructions of happiness"?

Why do you think white musicals, in all their longing for utopia, still often fall short of that hope for change in the narrative space?

Can you think of any examples of contemporary black musicals that challenge the characteristics of black musicals? How about contemporary white musicals? Have you seen characteristics of either being utilized in any contemporary musicals today?

#@theuncannyprofessoro #oxyfilmmusical #Youtube

[hoochieblues]

for the wip ask meme, please can i have as much as you feel comfortable sharing about 'funk hole' (an inherently funny combo of words, onomatopoetically speaking) or failing that the nanananana HANNIBAL (im assuming hummed to the batman theme tune)!

Thank you! You can have both! :D (oprahwinfreybees.gif )

Ngl, Funk Hole's title choice is like 50% 'oh this would be an attention grabber heh heh' but the phrase was also WW2-era slang, capitalising on the anger/fear that people were using country hotels or resort towns to hide out away from the bombardment and fighting ('funk hole' having originally been military slang for a dugout). The press really went after certain areas for this, including Torquay, where I lived for... like six months at one point, and distracted myself by reading a lot of local history. (side note: the majority of my family's from Kent/London, and when you listen to people's memories, or just look a map of V2 bomb sites, you can extra see why the idea that wealthier folks were just paying to avoid the reality of war generated so much rage.)

So, it's a queer romantic drama set in 1940s south Devon, in a (mostly) fictional quaint little country hotel run by an eccentric old lady, with help from her quiet, bookish nephew, a socialist conscientious objector saddled with the first name Raleigh. Poor bastard. Cue the cast of weirdoes living in the hotel - a mix of neurotic oddballs, well-heeled assholes, self-styled bohemians and Artsy(tm) types - until a new guest arrives: a recently disabled ex-pilot recovering from his injuries, his stay paid for by a wealthy relative.

You know where this is going. But I promise it's going to be an interesting or at least enjoyable journey. Probably. idk, this one's still largely notes on a proverbial napkin, but it's got all that good potential: the dissolving myth of 'England' in the post-Edwardian mess of the early-mid 20th century; the rapidly changing roles and boundaries of class, gender, and identity; hurt/comfort with graphic skin graft recovery (I read multiple books about Harold Gillies and now everyone else must suffer); characters forced to come to terms with lives and worlds irreparably changed by things beyond their control... and so forth. With luck, I might actually get to writing up the first draft later this year.

Aaaand then there's the Batman Hannibal AU, a concept which is largely @emungere's fault and that is the story I'm sticking to. It is entirely skates dangerously close to crackfic and is not to be taken at all seriously.

More beneath the cut if you dare.

Essentially, Hannibal is Alfred. Mischa is Batman, Chiyoh is Robin (kinda), and Commissioner Crawford has a perpetual headache. And Will Graham is... Dog...Man...?

The Lecter siblings coped with the death of their parents in different ways. Hannibal largely withdrew from society while Mischa secretly became The Bat, a vigilante who fights crime but does not kill, despite the fact that assholes are constantly breaking into Lecter Manor to rob/murder the city's wealthiest siblings. Fortunately, Hannibal's there to keep things neat and tidy... and cater spectacular menus for his beloved little sister's charity galas.

Things get complicated when Chiyoh lays a little too much smackdown on one of The Bat's enemies, and they bring him back to the estate to recover. This one's still in super early stages, but I cannot resist sharing the visual that would never ever leave my head. I'm sorry. Not very sorry, though.

________________________________

Shreds of moonlight glanced off the brickwork and made ghosts of the gasoline rainbows in the puddles underfoot. The alarm still blared in the distance, shrill and ignored. Wherever the figure had gone, they were trapped in the alleys now. No way out. Mischa stole forward, boots silent on the greasy asphalt.

Chiyoh sniffed. “Smells like wet dog.”

Mischa shot her a frown. Rain beaded the tight slick of Chiyoh's hair, as dark and smooth as her high-necked black suit. Behind the mask, her gaze stayed firm. Mischa felt her lips twitch.

“What d’you expect?” she murmured. “It’s rough out there.”

Chiyoh sighed and looked away. Movement deeper in the alley drew their attention, and they crept forward. Mischa drew breath to call out to the thief, but something shifted in the dark.

A dog ran out of the shadows, a scruffy white-and-brown little thing, barking and showing his teeth. He stopped a few feet from them, stubby legs planted determinedly square, and let out the squeaky small dog version of a baying howl, back end quivering with over-excitement.

“Buster!” A voice called from the depths of the alley. “Leave!”

The sound of scrabbling paws and footsteps filled up the dark, and a dog pack of varying shapes and sizes burst from the alley. If Mischa hadn’t known better, she’d have said the scruffy little dog looked almost smug. Beside her, Chiyoh reached for a blade, but her hand stopped at her utility belt as three of the larger dogs pushed forward, growling.

“I wouldn’t do that. They’re… protective.”

A figure all in black—black jeans, black sweater, black hat pulled low over unruly dark curls—melted from the shadows behind the dogs. A small blue backpack dangled from his fingers. The kind people who hiked a lot zipped their pets into so that Fido could carry his own snacks and water bottle. Each of the dogs had one, but something trailed from the unzipped backpack in the man’s hand. Even in the dim light of the alley, the strings of diamonds glittered.

“You’re kidding, right?” Chiyoh said, her tone flat. “The Westerley robbery. And you… put….”

She let out a long, weary breath. Mischa lifted her chin. The subway vent behind her hissed. Steam rose, turning white against the cold. It snaked around her ankles, climbing the sleek black of her cape. If he knew who she was, he didn’t seem to care, and that irked her. All of Gotham knew The Bat.

“Who the hell are you, anyway?” She glanced at the pack surrounding him, each with their own little harness stuffed with ill-gotten gains. Seven sets of jaws panted, each furnished with awfully white teeth. “Dog… Man…?”

He stepped forward and clipped the backpack onto Buster, who lifted each paw obediently in turn, never looking away from Mischa. When the guy straightened up, he didn’t meet her eyes, but he wore a hard, crumpled kind of smile.

“Funny. No. You can call me The Packmaster.”

“I don’t think so,” Chiyoh said.

Her hand moved in a blur. The blade flew, silver against the dark. Mischa caught her breath, and it was easy to fall into the rhythm of their training, to read Chiyoh’s body language as easily as her own heartbeat, and to know she was just as readily understood.

Together, no one would stand against them.

#my fic tag #why yes i did spill mischa x chiyoh all over my batman au. oh no the stain is permanent. so sad. #writing tag

[anghraine]

With regard to the post about fandom classifying any character with basically the slightest flaws or complexity as "morally grey" and therefore either superior/problematic—

While I didn't write that one, it did remind me of something I've been thinking about, which is not only a fandom problem, though common among us. I think it's interesting that whenever a character's motives are in any way impure or flawed or complicated, their motivation is often reduced to the complication as if it completely negated the purer or more sympathetic motive that is also at work.

That description is general and vague enough that it might not be 100% clear what I'm talking about, so here's an example from Austen's Mansfield Park:

Edmund was too angry to speak; but Miss Crawford, looking for a moment with astonished eyes at Mrs Norris, and then at Fanny, whose tears were beginning to shew themselves, immediately said, with some keenness, “I do not like my situation: this place is too hot for me,” and moved away her chair to the opposite side of the table, close to Fanny, saying to her, in a kind, low whisper, as she placed herself, “Never mind, my dear Miss Price, this is a cross evening: everybody is cross and teasing, but do not let us mind them”; and with pointed attention continued to talk to her and endeavour to raise her spirits, in spite of being out of spirits herself. By a look at her brother she prevented any farther entreaty from the theatrical board, and the really good feelings by which she was almost purely governed were rapidly restoring her to all the little she had lost in Edmund’s favour.

Mary Crawford's motives here are not "pure", but it's common to represent the "almost" here as ironically undercutting the ostensible selfless benevolence of her motives to the point that they're not really benevolent at all. Although Mary's outwards behavior here is kind and compassionate in a moment when Fanny was being publicly humiliated, she benefits from that kindness in Edmund's eyes and the almost suggests she's aware of that and the whole thing is calculated.

I may be biased as a Mary Crawford fan, but to me, that seems at best an extremely uncharitable reading of the passage above. Mary's motives being less than purely selfless does complicate them and her character. She's a complex, deeply flawed person! But I don't think reading "not quite selfless" as "completely calculating and self-interested" is really justified by the text in this specific section, her overall relationship with Fanny, or that it's a remotely compelling read of her character when there are more nuanced alternatives possible that fit the text better anyway.

I think this is really common with readings of Austen in particular, because she does use irony heavily and often likes to complicate her characters' motives. But the point is complication and not simply overwriting the "good" motive with a different, bad one.

In any case, I see that approach used to interpret many different works and characters, and I wish it were more common to see "[X]'s motives are not wholly pure, they've got more going on" interpreted as a sign of complexity and not just of being Actually Bad.

#anghraine babbles #anghraine rants #general fanwank #austen fanwank #jane austen #mansfield park #mary crawford #long post

[over-active-imagination]

Family Matters (Fredrick Chilton x reader)

Synopsis: Will and Jack get to see a side of Doctor Chilton no one was aware existed.

A/n: I have not watched Hannibal in a hot minute but my thirst for Raul is strong. We are also just going to pretend our little baby is perfectly fine and NOT in danger.

Warnings: Family stuff, mentions of crimes, tooth-rotting fluff, my bad writing

Y/n sat outside by the pool watching her three-year-old and four-year-old children play around in the water splashing around happily with each other as she rubbed her swelling baby bump. Jasper and Aspen were completely content to battle it out in the shallow end of the pool. It was a nice summer day in Baltimore and Y/n was hoping these activities would wear the children out before their father came home. Sadly it didn't seem to be the case when she hears the family dog Sigmund start barking happily alerting Y/n that someone had just come home.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder she smiles seeing her husband patting the pup affectionately before the children are drawn to his presents.

"Daddy!" Aspen giggles and toddles out of the water as fast as her chubby legs could carry her rushing towards her father's waiting arms even in his full suit from work. Something that caught his company off guard.

"Hello, my darling girl" Fred smiles lifting her into his arms not paying much mind to how dripping wet she was, or the fact his wife had called after Aspen to get a towel.

"Wait...Aspy I want a hug from daddy too" Jasper the four-year-old cried also rushing out to his father who had moved to the pool deck.

"Now now Jasper of course you can have a hug too, no wining" Fredrick teases and sets his daughter down kissing her head before hugging his son. Aspen instantly peered around and noticed her father's two coworkers awkwardly watching the out-of-character display.

"Who are they? Your friend's daddy?" Aspen asks looking up at him with her bright green eyes. "Hi daddy's friends" She says not waiting for an answer causing Y/n to giggle at her daughter shifting to rise from her chair.

"Yes Aspen..now daddy and mommy need to talk can you go swim with Jasper and show him all the cool tricks you learned at lessons?" Fred hums catching her attention and she nods taking her older brother's hand and toddling off to the pool once more.

Now with the children, busy Frederick came to properly say hello to his wife. Seven months pregnant and still trying to come to him.

"Ahahah Mama, you stay right there " He hums moving to her side settling his wife back down and brushing back her hair "I need to speak with Agent Graham and Crawford about some case stuff in my office. I couldn't finish it at work I'm sorry my love"

"Thats alright handsome...oh no Aspen got your suit all wet" Y/n sighs taking in the damage of his expensive suit for work "leave it on the bed and I'll handle it okay" She fusses and he chuckles

"My love they are just clothes and its just water, it will dry on its own" He attempts to sooth her and she lets out a huff

"I know I know, but you are always so proud of your clothes baby. Ill make sure it doesn't winkle" Y/n hums and he relents nodding and leaning down to press a kiss onto her swollen stomach. “Are they staying for dinner” she adds smoothing his hair.

“I’m not sure…will gets a bit antsy when someone else prepares food” Fred hums and y/n nods gently

“Well you better invite them just in case. I won’t have them thinking we’re rude” she says sternly and Fred let’s out a small chuckle.

“Well they-“ Chilton is stopped by a finger to his lips

“Let me change the phrase..I won’t have them thinking I am rude. Now go, I have to get the little goblins bathed and wound down before dinner” she hums and he nods kissing her once more before departing to his office.

While her husband was busy, Y/n let the children play a bit longer before ushering them inside to wash off the chlorine and put on pjs. Turning on a child friendly movie Y/n sits on the couch with Aspen between her knees gently braiding the dark brown locks she inherited from her father while Jasper snuggled siggy on the love seat.

Once finished with her daughter Mrs chilton rose and headed to the kitchen to finish with dinner. She took into account of what her husband said and decided to go for a less meat heavy dish. Opting to make the children there chicken casadillas and a nice creamy Alfredo for the adults. She was just in the middle of cutting up the salad when three pairs of footsteps had her eyes rising to the hall. Fredrick was still speaking to Agent Crawford as they walk down the hall being tailed by a tall man with a mop of unruly curls and black circles under his eyes. She didn’t like how anxious the poor man seemed and bit her lip about to say something when Aspen bounces into the room.

“Daddy daddy look I drew a picture” His little girl giggles lifting the page with scribbles on it. A wide grin broke over his face as he turned his attention to her.

“That is beautiful my love. Look at this boys” he turns and shows his companions. Jack who had children of his own knew how to play along cooing over how magnificent it is while Will looked a bit lost.

“What do you think mister daddy’s friend” aspen urges in a way only she could causing will go clear his throat.

“That’s…definitely a picture” he decided on saying causing Aspy to look a bit exasperated her little nose scrunching up hands falling to her hips in a manner that reminded Y/n to much of Fred.

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if you like it” she says in a stern little voice tapping her foot causing Jack to chuckle and will to tilt his head with a small sigh.

“It could be better” Will says and the room fall silent just as Fred was about to rip him a new one Aspen cuts in.

“You’re probably right. It needs more shading on mommy’s hair” and with that she takes the paper and rushes back to the living room.

“You got lucky there…I was expecting her to start crying or Chilton to rip your head off” Jack muses coming over to Y/n and leaning on the counter.

“Oh not little Aspen. She’s too much like her father to cry infront of a stranger” She hums moving to pull three beers out of the fridge for the men. “Dinner is almost ready if you two would like to stay. I didn’t cook any meat or anything it’s all relatively vegetarian aside from the children’s meal”

Will watching as mrs Chilton rings her hands a bit anxiously. He notices that she wants to make sure he is comfortable which is something most people don’t do. Jack was about to deny the invitation when Graham beats him to it.

“I would like that very much.” He says curtly and takes a swig of beer ignoring how Fredrick and Jack look at him confused.

“Great you boys go sit at the table I’ll wrangle the children” Y/n smiles gently rubbing her hand down her husbands arm and Will watches him instantly relax. It was odd seeing Chilton in such a…domestic state, far from the domineering, obnoxious and annoying doctor he was professionally.

Slowly they make there way to the table, Fred sitting at one end Jack on the other. Just as he was about to sit the two children come skipping to the room and much to Wills dismay sit opposite each other. So either way he would have to be near a kid. It’s not that he didn’t like children…Will always wanted some of his own…it was more that he didn’t know how to talk to a child. Never having much practise and this little Aspen creature was very chatty. So doing some quick deducing he was going to sit next to the boy but a little hand stopped him.

“Mister if you sit here with me Siggy will come sit under your feet. He loooooves this side of the table and I saw you like him” she says cheerfully and Will was shocked at how much she paid attention to his behaviour

“Well I-“

“The only reason he likes that side Aspen is because you drop food on the floor for him” Jasper pipes up and Will watches the girls head twist to glower at her brother

“That is not true. And you can’t prove that it is” Aspen retorts sticking out her tongue. Causing Fredrick to stifle his laughter after a glare from his wife.

“Children. Stop it, you are being rude to our guests. Please will sit wherever you like” Y/n says gently patting his arm “I can move Aspen if you’d like to sit next to Freddie”

“No no..it’s okay” Will says and sits down slowly next to the small girl who was happily swinging her feet looking up at her father. Will caught Fredrick make a silly face causing his little girl to erupt into laughter.

Soon after that dinner was on the table and Y/N finally sat down rubbing her belly gently. Jack and will suddenly felt bad for not offering assistance and Jack went as far as to say it but she waved him off with a cheery smile.

“All I do is sit around while this baby plays soccer in my stomach. I don’t mind standing up and moving” Y/n reassures and they both nod.

They all tuck into there food Fred asking about her day. Playing little tricks on the children as they eat and Aspen talking a mile a minute without any chance of slowing down, where as Jasper sat quietly only speaking to contradict his sister or ask for more juice. Will had a strange sense of calm wash over him as he sat in the Chiltons dinning room, something he hadn’t felt for a long time and suddenly he was jealous of Frederick for being able to come home to this. While he was spinning inside his own head looking at his plate Will was suddenly drawn out of his reprieve by Aspen shrieking.

“Mommy mommy little baby is doing the weird alien thing” she shouts feigning disgust causing Wills attention to be drawn to Mrs Chilton baby bump. Where he saw the perfect outline of a little hand pressing against her dress.

“Yes it appears they are” Y/n sighs seeming less freaked out then Will, Jasper and Aspen as she simply places her own hand over it pushing the little one back. “I’m sorry sometimes I just don’t notice, this little one likes to make sure everyone knows they are there” she laughs.

“Aspen you scream but you used to do that to your mama too” Chilton teases his daughter who makes a face

“Icky. I never want a baby if they do that” Aspen huffs and Will chuckles looking at her.

“Me either” he says softly and she giggles up at him

“But your a boy. Do can’t carry babies like mamas do” she says and Will pauses for a moment then looks down at her again.

“I suppose you’re right. But still, I wouldn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and just see a little baby hand poking out of my partners belly” he teases a bit making a little hand gesture.

Frederick watched the display and chuckles a bit. He had never seen Will warm up to anyone as fast as he was with his family. Perhaps he would talk to his wife about inviting him around more. It may help with the social anxiety he tended to fall into. Shaking his head he hears Jasper let out a little yawn and look up at him.

“Daddy can I go to bed” he asks softly and Fredrick ruffles his hair “of course bud. Take your dishes to the sink and say goodbye to Mr Crawford and Mr Graham”

Jasper nods taking the dish and coming back to say goodnight getting a hug from his mother and waving awkwardly at his fathers friends before heading upstairs to his room. Fred smiles and looks over at his wife who was looking back at him. He gently stands and takes the dishes with the help of Jack leaving Aspen, Will and Y/n at the table.

“Aspen I believe it’s also your bedtime” the Mother hums to her child and Aspen pouts.

“But I don’t want to go to bed. I want to stay awake” she argues and Y/n smiles shaking her head.

“I’m sorry little one but you and I both know you will be cranky in about ten minutes now. Say goodnight to Mr Graham and head up to bed. Daddy or I will be up shortly to tuck you in” The older woman hums and Aspen let’s out a whine before rising to her little feet.

Will expected the girl to be like her brother and wave goodbye before hugging her parents but she surprises him. The little girl moves to him first wrapping her arms around his neck and placing a small kiss on his cheek. Y/N watched Will look confused and suppress a little giggle as Aspen makes her rounds and toddles off to her bedroom.

After a polite cup of coffee and desert Will and Jack both rise saying goodnight and moving to the door. Y/n stands next too Freddie his hand around her hip as they see the agents off. But not before mentioning to Will that he is more than welcome to stop by and see the kids and the dog at home.

As soon as they are gone Frederick sighs slouching a bit. He looked completely worn out which caused his wife to chuckle a bit.

“Fred why don’t you go get ready for bed. I’ll turn the dishwasher on and be up on a moment”

Frederick let’s put a small sigh nodding and disappearing up stairs while he wife finished cleaning up. Slowly she made her way up the stairs smiling when she hears her husbands voice floating through aspens bedroom door. The younger woman pauses leaning on the doorframe listening to him lull the youngest child to sleep with the tale of Cinderella, a story he often said was ridiculous and promoted women to rely on men to rescue them but…he couldn’t say no to his little princess.

If anyone had told Y/n six years ago that she would be standing listening to the arrogant, rude and often cruel hospital administrator reading a bedtime story she would have laughed in their face. Yet, here she was, heart filled with love an admiration for her husband who was squished into a bright pink canopy bed cuddling a little version of himself.

The woman smiled and left the pair to daddy daughter bonding time to check in on Jasper who was out like a light. Snuggled deep into his bright green sheets his mouth hanging open much like his fathers did. Y/n giggled and kisses his head before turning out the light and heading to her own room. Smiling when she found that for once Fred had followed her orders.

Carefully she picked up the expensive designer suit, moving it to lay out on one of the chairs until she could tend to it in the morning. Then heading off to complete her own night time routine. Coming back out of the en suite bathroom Y/n see her husband laying out on his back only in his boxers, his eyes closed hands folded against his chest. A small giggle leaves her lips as she moves closer to him prompting the man to open his eyes sleepily and smile brightly up at his wife.

"Come here my love" He says softly reaching out for her making little grabbing gestures.

"Alright alright Mi Amour I'm coming" She giggles and slowly climbs into the spot next to him resting her head on his chest.

"Sometimes I wonder how I got so Lucky" He mumbles as his wife traces her hand over the pale scar on his stomach. letting out a little giggle looking up at him.

"Mm maybe I am just mentally unstable" Y/n teases and he pinches her hip with a playful chuckle.

"Hey watch it" He teases "thank you for today"

"It was nothing, to be honest it was nice to have someone other then two toddlers to talk to" She giggles "now lets get some sleep"

The pair snuggle deeper into the covers and relax, Frederick falling into a deep sleep feeling happy and safe with the love of his life.

#raul esparza #Fredrick chilton #fanfic #fluff #lil smut #family shananigans #Au #hannibal #nbc hannibal #Fanfiction #frederick chilton #soft fluffy story #I lied there was no smut im sorry #cute #raul #esparza #will graham #Hannibal lecter #jack crawford #Frederick x reader #chilton x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n insert