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ayyy-pee · 8 months

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Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 1 - Inheritance

A/N: There's some Danish in fic that I hope I'm using correctly! (If not let me know) Nanami calls his mother "Mor" in this fic, which is Danish for Mom (according to Google lmao)

“Are you okay with this arrangement?” a stocky, bald man ahead asks. In the harsh fluorescent lighting of the office, the beads of sweat forming on his head are apparent. He reaches up and swipes his hand across where his hairline probably resided at some point in time, but is now long gone. He clears his throat, repeating the question.

“Um-” he glances around at the other men at the table, dressed in bland, ugly suits. A bunch of blank faces that’ll be forgotten once this is over. The man behind taps his shoulder.

“Mr. Nanami?” He speaks.

Nanami’s brows raise as he’s brought back to the present and he looks around to find the men surrounding the table staring at him. He looks back to the bald man next to him. “I’m sorry. What was that?”

The bald man wipes his forehead again and Nanami hopes whatever paperwork and pen he is about to offer him is passed with his other hand. He resists shuddering in disgust.

“I was saying your mother has left her bakery to you in her will and testament with the wish that you continue to keep it open.”

Right. Nanami remembers now. His mother is dead - the only family he can remember having now leaving him alone in this world. He figured this would happen eventually. She was elderly and in declining health. He was truly surprised she lived as long as she did. To top it off, she wants him to keep the piece of shit bakery that’s been passed down generations in business.

Nanami didn’t get to see his mother often. He worked as a corporate executive so he didn’t have much time to allocate to visiting her and being forced into the kitchen with her. Instead, he opted to call her often and visited when he had the time.

The sensation of his bottom lip trembling pulls Nanami from his thoughts.

“I don’t want it.” He confirms, voice as even as he can manage.

The bald man glances around nervously before looking back at Nanami. “Mr. Nanami, I understand this must be a lot to take in and quite difficult for you. However, this bakery has been in your family for generations. Your grandfather left it to your mother when he passed and now your mother to you. Are you sure you don’t want to–”

“It’s a sinking ship”, Nanami cuts him off. “I’ve seen the books a few times. I know it’s bleeding money and has been for some time. What do you suppose I do with that?”

The man shrugs, not that Nanami truly expected him to have an answer. Nanami pinches the bring of his nose, his brows stitching together in irritation. He really doesn’t want to deal with this. It’s annoying and an inconvenience. He wants to coast by in his cushy corporate executive job until retirement, making loads of money and not worrying about the crippling debt brought on by selling baked dough in some sad, rundown family owned establishment.

His mind drifts back to the very last time he was at the bakery, remembering his mother kneading the dough between her shaky, liver spotted fingers. When the aches became too much for her, she asked Nanami to give her a hand. He always complied if only to keep himself busy for the moment.

“When will you settle down? Work won’t be there forever”, she would ask as she took a seat on her stool next to the confectionery ovens. The massive machines loomed over her thin frame and Nanami wondered how she did this everyday. He wished she would close up shop and live the rest of her days resting. He had offered many times to support her, each time being met with a hard “no”.

“I don’t have time to date anyone. Besides, they’d just end up leaving me anyway. I’m too busy to make time for anyone else.”

His mother hummed in acknowledgement. “Yes, but you have to make time for them, Kento. A relationship is about compromise after all.”

“I don’t want to have to compromise. That’s the point of me not dating anyone right now”. His mother was always pushing for him to find someone. Asking for him to bring someone home to meet her before she met her demise - her words. She was always so dramatic, often prompting Nanami to roll his eyes in amusement.

Nanami molded the dough into an oval shape, grabbing the bread lame from the side of the table and quickly slicing leaf cut patterns into the dough - both his and his mother’s favorite. Carefully, he placed the dough onto a baking pan before gently shooing away his mother from her stool to slide the pan into the oven and turn it on.

“Kento, money comes and goes. You won’t have forever to live your life the way you see fit. And I want to see you get married before I’m dead and gone!” His mother sighed dramatically as she took Nanami’s large hard in both her smaller ones. “In all seriousness, sweet boy. I want to see you happy, living your life to the fullest.”

Nanami smiled softly down at his mother. He gently folded her up in an embrace. “My life is full as long as you’re here, Mor .”

His mother smacked him playfully in the chest. “Don’t try to butter me up with speaking Danish”, she scolded, though her voice held no anger. “Kento, take a break. Life will pass you by before you know it and you don’t want to look back at your life to realize you wasted it sitting in an office rotting under those awful lights.” She squinted her eyes to drive her point home. Nanami rolled his eyes playfully, looking down at his watch.

“I have to go back to work. I’ll call you later this week.” He bent low to place a kiss to his mother’s cheek before heading out through the front of the store.

The quiver in his lip returned and he let out a shaky breath to steady himself as the bald, sweaty man next to him slid over what looked to be a contract.

“If you’re sure, Mr. Nanami, we will have the bank take possession of the property. I’ll just need your signature here.” He extended his hand to give Nanami a pen and he fought the curl of disgust threatening to form on his lip when he noticed he held it with the same sweat-slathered hand he’d been using to wipe his head this entire meeting.

Nanami’s eyes roamed across the room. The faces of men he’d likely never see again surrounded him, just like every other day in this godforsaken boardroom. All dressed in some variation of the same ordinary suit and tie, talking amongst themselves about who knows what. And the lights, the fucking fluorescent lights threatening to trigger the same migraine Nanami found himself having everyday.

Life will pass you by before you know it and you don’t want to look back at your life to realize you wasted it sitting in an office rotting under those awful lights.

Nanami squinted just as his mother did that day, a wry chuckle escaping him. Fuck it. What did he have to lose?

“Actually–” he begins.

- - - - - - - -

Nanami is standing in the front of the bakery he now owns. It’s been about two weeks since he inherited this gaping wound bleeding out money every second it’s standing. He’s quit his corporate job, his peers whispering that his loss must have triggered a mental breakdown. They were almost right. The moment he signed the legal documents to take over the bakery, he felt free - as though the weight of the corporate world had been lifted from his shoulders. Now, as he entered the bakery and flipped on the lights, watching as a piece of ceiling tile tumbled to the lobby floor he felt his impending breakdown sneaking closer.

This place was a mess. He couldn’t blame his mother. She wasn’t able to handle the upkeep on her own and honestly, Nanami should have come around more to help out. Now, he was literally paying the price. It was no wonder the place was struggling when it was open. The furniture was worn, the decor was outdated and not in a trendy way. He understood wanting to keep the family memory alive, but the bakery was feeling more like a moldy old hole in the wall and not as welcoming as his mother believed it to be.

Repairs would be needed as soon as possible if he wanted to have a reopening for this place next month. He also needed to renovate the space and hire a baker who knew how the hell to run this place because he had no intention of doing it himself. No way. He fully intended on staffing this place up and collecting money from behind the scenes - the perfect retirement plan.

Nanami spent the day scheduling repairmen and interviews for the Head Baker position all within the next week. If he could find someone knowledgeable and adept, he could breathe easy knowing he would never have to be here unless absolutely necessary.

After scheduling the last interview, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face. This sucked. He was putting in way too much effort already and it did not seem worth it. Only time would tell.

- - - - - - - -

The first interview was easy enough. A young girl who seemed exhausted but eager. She had prior bakery experience, but the way the bags hung under her eyes made Nanami uncomfortable. It was as though she had something clinging to her and if he were totally honest, it gave him the creeps. At the end of the interview, he wished her well, advised her to try to get some rest and maybe see a medium about whatever strange aura was following her.

The second interview was an odd man with tattoos all over his body that looked something akin to stitches. He was young and lively, but it was apparent the moment he entered the bakery that he lacked basic hygiene skills. His long, gray (how old was this kid?) hair hung messily around his shoulders and the stench…Nanami could not describe the stench. If he absolutely had to describe it - like gun to the head, forced to recall the smell - he'd compare it to something along the lines of a sewer rat dipped in rotten eggs and left in the sun to bake. There was also the awful vibe Nanami got from him. He had a feeling if he hired this guy, Nanami would come in one day to find the entire bakery empty, the only thing left behind being hand soap since this man definitely didn’t wash his hands after using the bathroom, or shower, or brush his teeth or–

The third interview was annoying, but by far the best. Nanami sat at a table in the lobby as his eyes skimmed over the resume in his hands. A previous position as a Head Baker already, excellent. This resume even included custom recipes and pictures of their creations which he could not deny looked delicious. Nanami had to admit he was already impressed.

The door to the bakery opened and Nanami stood. Your eyes roamed around the lobby until you spotted him. You offered him a wide, friendly smile, holding your hand out to him as you approached. He asked your name, to which you confirmed and he shook your hand. Professional already. He liked it.

You both took a seat across from each other as Nanami went over the interview questions he had prepared. The usual - tell me about yourself? Tell me a time when…How would you handle…

Your answers were professional with enough of your personality shining through to let Nanami know you were a likable enough person. Nanami especially enjoyed the way your eyes lit up when you went over how you came to write your recipes. Clearly you were passionate about baking, something his mother would have appreciated. As you explained to him how you once created a cake made of broccoli for a child’s birthday party that had not a single crumb left by the end of the night, Nanami couldn’t help but think how much his mother really would have liked you. He shook the thought away as he watched you take in the bakery again. He suddenly felt ashamed of its condition.

“I apologize. This place is an absolute dump, but I’ll be renovating soon enough and will be sure you have top of the line equipment should you get the position.” He muttered, rubbing his temple to ease the migraine that had been slowly creeping up on him since his last interview.

You shot him a look of confusion, tilting your head to the side. “What do you mean a dump? This place is gorgeous !” You beamed. “I mean, look around. There’s so much character in this building. You can tell whoever ran the place loved it. It looks like it really met its purpose.” You ran your hand across the worn wood of the table and sighed wistfully.

Nanami scoffed. “It appears outside of baking, you have questionable taste.”

“How can you look at this place and see a dump?” You questioned, genuinely curious.

“Because I grew up in this bakery and it didn’t used to be a dump and now it very obviously is.” Nanami said easily.

Your grin faded into a scowl. “Mr. Nanami, with all due respect, you seem to be looking only for flaws here.”

You stood from the table and pointed behind the front counter to the kitchen in the back. “Do you mind?” Nanami shook his head, sighing as he stood with you and followed you to the back.

Your head whipped around as you entered the kitchen, taking in the worn down appliances, pans, tools and other materials. You didn’t touch anything, only a small smile gracing your features as you observed everything.

“I love bakeries like this personally. I love to be in a space that feels like lots of love and care was put into the end product. Anyone can throw flour into a pot with some eggs and sugar, but what makes one bakery different or better than the next?”

You watched Nanami intensely, not speaking. Oh. Was he the one being interviewed now?

“How much money they make.” He answered confidently. You snorted.

“Loud and wrong”, you stated. “It’s love , Mr. Nanami.”

He rolled his eyes and you burst into laughter. Nanami was now slowly becoming convinced you were a crazy person.

“I’m joking…to an extent. But if you put in the time, the effort and the care into your baking you’ll gain so much more than you ever thought possible. The fancy furniture and stupid bright lights won’t make a difference if you just slap whatever dry, shitty bread onto a plate and sell it.”

Nanami stared blankly.

“What’s your favorite memory here, Mr. Nanami?” you asked suddenly.

“Irrelevant to this interview”, he replied instead. You scowled.

“Come onnnnn, indulge me”, you pleaded.

“No.”

You folded your arms across your chest stubbornly. “Will you always be this difficult if we work together?”

Nanami’s brows shot up in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Will you always be this difficult if we work together?” You repeat, a little more slowly this time.

“I am not difficult”, he lied. He knew he was being difficult at this moment, probably sounding like a child arguing back. He could have just answered your damn prying questions but…he didn’t want to. Okay, yes he was being childish. Regardless, he continued.

“Why should I give you this job?”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on it absentmindedly while you thought about your answer. “Because I love baking. I love baking more than I love breathing and I could work a boring office job like anyone else, but I know I’d hate myself for it. This place needs a little help and I want to be here to make it into whatever you need it to be.”

Hating yourself for working an office job, huh? Nanami could relate. He was in this position mere weeks ago. You were sort of annoying always trying to see the bright side - rainbows and butterflies and shit - but maybe he could look past that. He did need a baker after all and his only other interviews were not exactly what he was looking for. But, he needed to establish some ground rules first.

“If you accept this position, I will be your boss and you will respect me. Please don’t misinterpret this relationship. I am not interested in establishing a friendship. I simply need you to run this kitchen and make sure your desserts are up to par.”

You stood up straight, your demeanor shifting to strictly business. “Noted.”

Nanami sighed, feeling relieved that he was able to establish who the boss was around here before things got out of control. He squared his shoulders, looking at you from across the kitchen.

“Now, I am formally offering you the position of Head Baker. Do you accept it?”

“Absolutely”, you said with no hesitation before continuing. “But if you’re standing in my kitchen, I demand respect too”, you spoke up. “My desserts will never not be up to par, Mr. Nanami but please don’t misinterpret this relationship either. When you step into my kitchen, I am in charge here.”

You moved across the kitchen and held your hand out to Nanami, who shook it quietly as he assessed you. You were passionate, spoke your mind, demanded respect but you were also annoyingly way too positive. It would be an adjustment for Nanami to work with someone like you. He was used to the drab routine of office work and the bland personalities that came along with it. This entire process was going to be an adjustment for him.

Nanami walked you out of the bakery, giving you a start date of next Monday to go over recipes for a soft reopening. He watched you go, a small skip in your step and for the first time since losing his mother, his lips curled up into a tiny smile.

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2-dsimp · 1 year

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Hi, it's NightFlurry again with some more ideas about bad endings or background stories for yandere genshin characters. I'm free for anyone to add to my thoughts or comment if it's friendly and appropriate!

The country they rule is called Teyvat(obviously), and each is separated by different kingdoms depending on the element and belief they possess. Ex. Zhongli's dynasty Liyue worships the element Geo known for its contracts that last as old as the kingdom itself. Ei's empire Inazuma worships Electro, a domain rumored to have lasted for eternity hence why the people look so young and lively. Venti's kingdom Mondstadt worships anemo, for the kingdom should be as free as the winds itself. The ever-mysterious fallen kingdom Khaneriah, a thriving kingdom built with wits and determination that one day fell due to a great calamity. This continues more and more.

Their majesty's/highness (reader), kingdom Seizon-sha, doesn't worship any element instead, they worship the sun, stars, and moon, for they are the guardians of fate, time, and evolution. A kingdom large enough to rival Liyue's dynasty. However, is crippled by a lack of successors and dies from the hands of debt after spending it on foolish lavishes. This is why the King and Queen are desperate to marry their sons and daughters to wealthy kingdoms.

Some characters are Albedo, the royal high mage nicknamed the ice wizard because he lived in the ice-cold mountains of Dragonspine, but for his ever-ice-cold expression. Nobody knows his story, only knowing that he hailed from the hills of Mondstadt and then suddenly arrived at their kingdom's doorstep to work as their kingdom's mage. This surprised many people because, for a mage of his caliber, many would've expected he'd pick a more prosperous domain like Liyue or perhaps seek out the more profound mysteries of magic in Sumeru. The Mage was a bigger mystery, always locking himself inside his room for ungodly hours only to come out for refreshments or stock up on supplies. Only interact with the servants or knights when he's out and about, only talking if it's business or something important. The mage didn't even seem interested in the royal family, barely sending them a glance when they passed by, always giving quick, emotionless answers, not even sparing a hello when nobles came by. The only person the mage was willing to talk to was their Highness. The mage suddenly started conversing with them one day, and their friendship began! Or so he wants their majesty to think The image was a strange one since he never asked any of the maids to clean his room, not even when the room was so unattended when a maid, who was sent there to give him his afternoon tea, was met with a storm of dust as soon as the mage opened the door. The mage gave a quick 'thank you' before shutting the door. Nobody knew that if the maid looked a bit longer, she would've seen the erratic piles of portraits depicting their majesty in different poses strewn across the floor. Nobody knew that the mage secretly teleported their Highness into his room during their break to work as his assistant with his experiments. How can their majesty look so innocent when they sleep, not knowing a certain mage was sitting by their bedside frantically drawing in his notepad every night. Using his new invisibility magic to sneak past the guards so the reader and him. Oh, their Highness looked so cute when the new book they wanted suddenly appeared on their doorstep one day; perhaps a maid heard it! Or perhaps their stalker? When one day, a spell became wrong, transforming the mage into a lowly toad. Thankfully their Highness was there to help them, oh? You don't need to get someone else. A kiss would do, and I'm afraid Sucrose is away, so you'll have to do it. If you look closely, the crumbled page on how to properly reverse the spell sat within the ashes of the fireplace, and is it strange that the ever-prefect mage suddenly got the spell wrong just when the majesty was there?

"Your Highness, I conducted a new potion using the ingredients you generously gifted me a while ago. I'd like to call it 'Forever Yours,' a love potion growing among young nobles, so I created a potion to see if it holds any value. I also added my own twist to enhance the effects of the person that'll drink it to be utterly in love with the first person they see. You should try it since you are here. Unfortunately, I can't use myself to test it since if I get it wrong, I won't be conscious enough to create a cure. Don't worry, your highness. I'll be by your side in case something happens. So, please...Drink...Every...Last...Drop...."

Another character is Xiao, the stoic bodyguard of their highness, known among his fellow knights. as "the Vigilante Yakasha, the Conqueror of Demons" because of his demon-like power as he effortlessly sweeps through with the flurry of the wind. Seen training from the sweet crack of dawn to the quiet evening of night, not even the never-ending rain has stopped the knight from training. A mystery even to the king since he never shares anything about himself unless it's business and never goes outside the castle's walls unless accompanied by their majesty. The knight was found years ago during a royal family outing. The royal family was enjoying their time basking under the warm rays of sunlight as they greeted their people; the peace diminished when one of the guards noticed that the young heir was missing. Panicked ensued as the knights began searching for the missing heir, who they found wrapping a bandage over a beat-up orphan deep within the dangerous parts of the kingdom. The child was apparently an escaped slave from an abusive family who escaped with the skin of his teeth from the relentless dogs and soldiers that chased him. The child could flee to their kingdom before surviving on thrown-out food and living inside old buildings before being beaten by a shopkeeper for stealing bread. The heir later found him in his sorry state because the heir noticed the child's whimpers of pain while wandering. With enough pleading, the heir convinced the king and queen to let the orphan, which the Highness later named Xiao, stay at the castle as a stable boy, allowing him the opportunity to rise among the social ranks if he so wished. So for years, Xiao remained in the kingdom due to the royal family's kindness. He felt indebted to the heir since they were the angel that saved him from hell. Nobody deserves his goddess; if anybody disagrees, they'll find their tongues ripped out. What nobody knew was that during the years, the heir would constantly make visits to the cold man to talk and leave little gifts for him. Throughout the following years, he rose through the ranks and landed himself a spot as a knight due to his remarkable skills with a spear. He trained for months in unbearable training and fighting against many enemies, from armies built of thousands of men to monsters that could shake the world. He was revered for his accomplishments in winning even the most hopeless battles and his stoic-no-nonsense expression as he tore down his foes. So, why would a man with so many achievements step down to become a measly bodyguard of their Highness? He always states his reports to the king with the same blank look, casting a side glance at his fellow knights before returning to training, ignoring the blushing maids as they stare at the young knight. The only expression the servants could wring out from the cold guard was dangerous narrow eyes and a threatening grip on his sword as a servant almost burnt them with hot tea after tripping on a loose tile. Doesn't that fool realize he could've seriously injured his goddess's precious hands?!? This fool deserves to rot in hell. Somebody as worthless as him shouldn't even dare to be in the same room as them. Poor children, if only they saw the signs of unhealthy obsession. If their highness looked closely on their balcony at night, placed inside the branches of a nearby tree, lay a certain knight watching from the shadows over the sleeping form of their highness. What if somebody decides to kill them in their sleep? As their guard, I must protect them from anybody. Oh, my poor goddess, so vulnerable...so beautiful....so unsusceptible of the cruel world.... Or perhaps if they noticed that every time a noble so much as sneers at their highness, their body was soon found in a nearby alley practically mauled by a powerful demon. The demon is closer than you think, your highness. could be perhaps standing next to you, watching your back... and making sure to protect you...even if it means killing everyone in their path...

"Your Highness, please refrain from jumping out the window again I won't catch you the next time you call me. …What, but don't dare call anybody else to name besides my own. Those incompetent knights can barely protect themselves, how would they fare to protecting you? I swore that the day I became your knight, I would protect you from the evils and unworthy of this world. Besides, why are you sneaking out again? You wanted to explore the town square? …fine...but I'm coming with you. I swear, I won't rat you out to the king that you snuck out again, but you must promise me one thing...That I'm allowed to annihilate any foes that dare cross our path, and if they dare lay a filthy finger upon you..... they'll find their entire arm missing."

Ahhhh, my fingers hurt like heck after writing all this....x _ x Well, I hope you enjoyed my first writing about the idea of the Fantasy Au. I just wrote these characters because they were the first person I could think of, if you want a certain character please ask. Please comment or ask me more about it.

o(^▽^)o

This is good food right here!!!

I’m really loving how your brain works especially since I can practically picture what it’ll look like In game form. There’s something about royal high mage albedo that makes my mind go brrrr and turn into rot. Since he tried to give the reader a love potion for “demonstration” purposes XD.

I’ll definitely let you know if I have any more comments or questions about your wonderful idea. As always thanks for stopping by and if you have anymore to share fill free to dump it all in my inbox! o(≧v≦)o

#good food #albedo imagines #xiao imagines #royal au #albedo scenarios #xiao scenarios #anon submission #dear anon <3 #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin impact #night flurry anon #nightflurry🌌#NightFlurry 🌌 fantasy au

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boxboxlewis · 2 years

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“i’m meeting your family for the first time and tried to learn your first language to impress them but i really suck at languages. stop laughing at me. i think i called your mother a donkey when i was trying to compliment her cooking. fuck.” with max and daniel — or just like a “meeting the parents AU”

It's not that Daniel keeps a mental ledger of who's putting in more effort to the relationship, but. If he were tracking it, which he's not, Max has definitely been carrying things lately. Daniel is of course having a legendarily shitty season, and after every race Max is there: holding his face, telling him too-sincerely that it will be ok, that McLaren are fucking idiots, that Daniel is a champion. Noticing, unforgivably, that being called a "champion" makes Daniel wince, and switching to "winner" instead. Insisting he doesn't want to have sex, when Daniel's not up for it; insisting that lying in bed being held by Daniel is the only thing he needs. Rubbing himself off against Daniel's thigh, sometimes, and acting like that's enough.

Max is so lovely and so caring and it's suffocating Daniel, each piece of kindness another feather in his throat.

And so: Daniel decides to learn Dutch. That's a huge gesture, right; that's worth at least a year of careful one-sided consideration. That's a fair payment.

His Dutch-learning starts badly. He downloads Duolingo and doesn't get along with it: the owl is a cunt. There are proper classes you can take, of course, and Daniel thinks probably he'll do one next year, but if he signed up for one now it'd just be chucking money away; there's no chance he'll be able to focus.

And so: Martijn. He texts him, Hey mate, trying to learn some Dutch for the missus. Can I hit you up for some key phrases?

Martijn is in. He suggests starting with sexy talk, which is frankly an inspired idea. It makes the whole thing seem more fun, somehow, and less desperate.

They agree on some phrases, and Daniel gets to practicing. The pronunciation is the hardest part—he's not actually convinced his throat has enough, like, phlegm to make all the sounds it apparently needs for Dutch words—but he diligently records voice notes for Martijn on Whats App and sends them across for critique, and Martijn is a fucking legend, patiently sending back corrections and adjustments and encouragement. This does mean that Daniel is in friendship debt now, but that's a much easier fix than the cosmic imbalance with Max—some expensive small-batch whiskey at Christmas and they'll be golden.

Daniel keeps practicing, writes his phrases on his forearm and studies them during the strategy sessions he's stopped paying attention to. Lando notices, annoyingly; reads what Daniel's written carefully on his skin and says, "Oh my god, is this for Max? You are a genuine weirdo, mate. Have you like, heard of Duolingo?" That's fine; Lando is a child.

Finally, Daniel feels ready to unleash some of his Dutch knowledge. He's been saving it for Zandvoort, which Max will probably win: but maybe Daniel will be up in the points, at least.

Max wins and Daniel gets P17. It's fine. He's going to drop his Dutch bomb anyway. He feels ok, actually, after the race; the knowledge that he's doing something nice for Max seems to be staving off the crippling feelings of self-loathing that usually swamp him after a bad result. Which is a little bit annoying, to be honest; it makes him feel like a character in a children's book, learning an important lesson about selfishness or whatever. He decides not to overthink this.

He waits until they're at home in Max's apartment after the race. Max is high on victory and clearly wants to fuck; equally clearly he doesn't want to initiate anything: he's pacing around the apartment, staring at Daniel's mouth and tearing his eyes away, palming himself through his joggers, looking at Daniel's crotch and flushing when Daniel catches his eye. It's a little bit funny.

Daniel leans back against the couch and spreads his legs suggestively and says, "Max."

"Yes?" Max looks hopeful, cheeks going pink. He's so fucking easy, always, wants Daniel's dick whenever he can get it. Daniel should tell him: you can't want anything that much, it's not safe.

Daniel clears his throat. He says, enunciating carefully, "Ik hou van je, lieverd." I love you, sweetheart.

The way Max looks when his face goes alive with delight—Daniel could fucking live in that moment, in the lift of Max's cheeks and the scrunching up of his eyes. He rushes over to sit on Daniel's lap, and he's rubbing his face against Daniel's face like a cat and speaking Dutch in a fast torrent. Daniel doesn't catch any of it. He rubs Max's back and says, "Spreek alsjeblieft langzaam," which is maybe a little misleading because Max could speak like a fucking glacier and Daniel wouldn't understand. Still, it's the thought that counts.

Max laughs and says, very slowly, looking at Daniel as if it's really important that Daniel believe him, "Ik hou ook van jou." And yeah, even Daniel gets that one. I love you too.

They kiss for a while, one of Daniel's hands on Max's ass and the other in his hair, Max's mouth sweet and filthy, his little gasps and moans going right to Daniel's dick: as if it's the old days, as if none of 2022 ever happened. It's such a fucking relief, his body doing what he wants it to, he nearly groans with it.

Well. Time to deploy the next phrase. He practices it in his head, going over the rhythm of the syllables: Mijn kip is is zo uitdagend voor jou. My cock is so hard for you. Yeah it is, baby. He pulls back and nips Max's lip and whispers it sexily, rocking up against Max as he speaks.

Max's reaction isn't quite what Daniel was going far: he starts laughing so hard he actually falls off Daniel's lap. He's choking with it, gasping, rolling from side to side on the floor, clutching at his abs.

Daniel is going to fucking murder Martijn.

"Uh, Max?" he says. "Can you—no rush, here—but when you're back with us, can you tell me what I said?"

Max visibly tries to pull himself together. "Daniel," he says, "Daniel, I love you so much. You of course used Google Translate?"

"Yes," Daniel lies. He'll explain about Martijn later.

"Well, that is why." Max starts laughing again. He's so beautiful, sprawled on the floor of his apartment with his cheeks flushed and his hair all mussed. "You said—ah, sorry, sorry—ok—you said, 'My chicken is is so challenging for you.'"

Daniel, after he takes a beat, can admit that that's fairly funny. He grins and reaches down to give Max a hand back onto the sofa. "Ah."

"Yes—so you can see—but Daniel, it is so good, just that you tried." Max sounds very earnest, now. "It is spectacular, it means so much to me."

Daniel kisses him again. Maybe Max is right. Maybe it's enough. But for now, they have a couple of chickens to attend to.

inspired by this post! thank you very much anon for the prompt and apologies for the, uh, distinct lack of parent-meeting.

the dutch is this fic is all straight from google translate so u know. don't try and use it to seduce your dutch-speaking significant other. or do, and report back!

#daniel ricciardo: right about the duolingo owl. right for america #asks #my fic #maxiel

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madfantasy · 11 months

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Been crying alot lately not knowing why, nd now I can verbalise it, I need to type it down for the sake of my sanity.. I think its lots of trauma dumping, I'm sorry

I've seen a post ask about if you're an ace would u be in romantic relationships, and I have just thought about how I'm always revolted by these concepts since I was 6 years old.

Having been always groomed to be wed to one of my cousins or a rich somebody to be my highest achievements as it solely focuses on my private parts as my worth and my ability to contribute to the family's "Good reputation" and reap back benefits to.

But I knew, all along, if I was forced to be with someone, that will end me being on this earth or them if they tried going near me. And growing up, I always tried to accept that fact, accept that u need to be pure and clean and be good for wedding and basically enslaved to it, cuz that's all our still impoverished family can aspire to. And on top of the dark thing that happened to me, making me truly believe I have no worth in this world and have prayed to be taken to heaven before I hit puberty, and have tried pitiful attempts to leave it, untill i got faint access to Internet and stole the keys to the locked books, they themselves should have been reading, around 17 years old, found an only opening and escape to reality.

I remember, my refusal was all the firmer the more anyone tries to tell me all about the glamor of being an intimate house maid and the domestic abuse they gloss over that I personally have witnessed time and time again with every couple that visited or we went to. I always respond that i am already one to my guardian's with the same abuse minus the gross intimate part.

I didn't even understand why I hated it so much while everyone is doing it, and as young as 16.

I avoided alot of marriage offers thanks to my guardians being, in one good way, over protective. And me losing my mind every time they brought it up. Literal uncharacteristic melt downs and now they fear the subject after they finally snapped me after saying no for years wasn't enough of a respond.

I'm 30 and the latest offer was from a rich cripple who was willing to pay all my guardians debts and give them a farm. My guardians dream. They turned it down without consulting me.

I've always hated the concept of pairs joined by s*x and the s*x itself. And marriage as a whole never made sense to me, considering the developing world and its problems. But I understand it as a bond if its first and foremost was not for love, it was for safety— mental, financial and otherwise.

And where I come from, independence is supported by the family, you can not survive, work, do anything if you do not have a family, and specially if you assigned a certain gender. So basically, I lived in isolation for the majority of my life, in poverty, marriage seen as the only -allowed- way out.

And it's all stims from a so called religious teachings.. Alot in common in this world, who take it as a personality trait and use it to justify injustice. Even though most of the time they know nothing about it beside what they are told by their authority figures and operat in this world as superior to all others because they were told they r the true religion. I saw on TT a so called mus-girl complaining about her children being exposed to 'rainbow ppl' in school education and having the nerve to complain about it living as a foreigner welcomed to practice her religion in a western country and claims not to be hateful. And yes, Arab ppl call the community 'rainbow' which reeks of the phobia and condescension. Like their religion teaches them to be at peace with all and treat ppl how they like to be treated, yet they fail to apply that when they don't like or lack the emotional intelligence to understand others who are merely different, just different and existing, exactly like them. And they do believe God made everything, so he did make those people, so what their excuse to that? And they exsisted since tbe dawn of humanity. And funny thing is their religion tells them that God made humans different, and urges them to read, to wonder the earth and consider facts and if they don't know to ask who are knowledgeable, and their intentions matters more and if they did unjustly by anyone, who ever they are, they r not a true mus--. It obviously translate to just ask a man who knows nothing about science, empathy or common sense or notice the accumulating facts and only repeat a select few he is told at a religious house. Thinking seems to be a burden these people happily relinquish to others. Which irkes me to no end

I was told all the shit I endured is because it from gods teachings, and it should make me happy. I never stopped questioning if this is a bless then why I was never happy? And why I can't do as I am told

They beat me up when I drew, when I was rowdy and when what now i know is stimming, shaming it as an act of another religion, and it was the running joke in the whole family. Mental health was an immense shame and hush hush, and anyone who seemed to need it was judged to be just a lesser mus-- so they deserve all the pain and suffering they get

I was glad that lady was getting chewed by ppl who was responding to her, but one person said something that just made me burst into tears and I couldn't stopp crying lately..

She said she was a teacher that goes from school to school and stuff so she experienced alot of communities and she noticed the vast differences between children who's family love and support is unconditional and those who don't, they obviously tend to later thrive.

And thats the word..

Thrive

Besides our financial situation never changing to the better, everything else was in decline, my guardians health themselves relying on me even more, and my mental anguish exasperated to a point i barely see a point in life, daily.. I can barely draw now, something I did 24/7

Everything that I am I had to do deep research for just to know that there's nothing wrong with me or im not deserving punishments for. I am ace, I am a gentle Them, I am on the spectrum, and I am Mani..

I did everything I do now in secret and complete agony. I learned English to gave privacy, continued to draw cuz it was my only alive part, and posted online when I was forbidden completely to protect my art from being lost, had to swear that I was nit interacting with others. I lied and one of the few times I was found, I was beaten while a school friend was on the other line in a voice chat. I was more humiliated that my friend witnessed it than being caught.

I still have the deep fear and distrust, I can't deal with social things, having to keep guessing which social cues they are using and not to become a living status, leaving the house the mere thought if it alone is panic inducing, I can never feel safe and cant risk something that might bring any harm to me and my sibs, every few days I struggle not to just delete my whole exsistance online. I can't look at faces even in pictures and if I did or need to I have to mentally prepare myself for so long. I literally had to convince my guardians that I can have a credit card so I can "learn" to do stock shi then used it to have PP and one day i got commissioned, and only when that happened I was able not to keep it a secret. And in its place now I feel the pressure when I can't provide or won't

The rest I still have no luck, I bearly managed to tell them recently that I suspect that I am on the spectrum, reading alot about it lately and it explains even things I couldn't. The nearest I managed to tell them that I am ace and what it is is that I started by saying I find who we are suppose to be wed to disgusting and I already living that glamorous stay at home shi nd co-raising 5 siblings they know very little about. They said fine but don't go saying that out loud cuz God says that marriage is the greatest bless but I won't force u ever.

I just feel my life force almost over, while I experienced nothing of life beyond isolation and constant need, so i cant thrive in anything.. Everything I wanted to do I begged to try was denied cuz either of my privates or cuz we were poor. I wanted to be athletic and do sports but there was no such thing as a second gender sports around. I wanted to be and still wish I could be, a wrestler. Unsurprisingly WWE was my inspiration and practiced as serious as a kid could, having what I believed a super pain tolerance cuz I never cried as I was beaten. I was cut from even watching it because it was "shameful " all of a sudden. Later I understood it was because everyone was shirtless and it was s*xulised by them. Everything became the same later, everything I drew or expressed feared to be s*xual and or homo nd I was punished over, I literally drew dying ppl and bromance alot at first. And they just projected their assumptions on me. I understood later and still can't bear the thought that ppl can project s*x into anything, and it never clicked in my mind because of what I am. And that was their biggest fear. I drew things cuz I saw them beautiful, and they only saw it as vulger, because they can't help but hyper s*xualize everything or assume it being so even with clear indications. Something that happened online too, tumblr nd tt, so it triggers me horribly

Something ace i also realised there's a word for (forgotten ittt ugh)— even though s*x and its mention is completely revolting to my person and I can have no relation to it. I can still enjoy it as a fictional concept, as entertainment, if u will, specially in a muse of two characters I enjoy. So drawing it is fun and exciting and enrichs my naughty side. Until I finish it and I never want to see it again cuz I'm not super good at it yet heh

In my mind, I can love and treasure who ever platonicly, and our bonds does not have to direct our paths in life. My romance is bromance, and meaning I will do everything to make my bestie happy, and my biggest wish is to live like tintin, in a mansion and everyone can be free to go on adventurous escapades, like getting coffee. ( i never done that, so

And this is something I wish to do with my siblings, if the stars were ever to align..

At least have Sherir with me.. puppets make me happy

#text #personal #vent

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icebluecyanide · 2 months

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Alex Rider S03E05 Reaction

Once again posting my unspoilered reactions to the episode as I continue to go 😻 at Yassen being Alex's tutor.

Liveblog

They’re going to agree?? I guess in this case they don’t have to rely on the Americans to agree

“We do not negotiate with terrorists” ashdfhsldh Scorpia is very funny for that but also what is their plan?? I can only assume that they do actually want to cripple the UK or just get at the Department because I don’t believe Scorpia gives a damn about the debt

“He’s out there being a teenager because of us” lmao yes Alex doing normal teen stuff joining a criminal organisation to take down the government Department that blackmailed him

They just figure out it’s inhalation?? Well that’s easy lol

Why is Alex the one bringing him in ahsldfhs. What is the point of involving Alex in the meet and greet lmao

Max Grendel calling Julia Rothman out on it being personal 👀👀 I mean, yeah, definitely, but also what’s with his changing motives lol

They just find the tubes?? Lol I guess they will not need Alex for any of it

I wonder if Syl will be the one sent to kill Alex at the end, if the shooting happens like in the book

How did they send the package??

Love Yassen implicitly calling Alex’s handwriting illegible lol

Why does Alex think they will tell him what he’s stealing ahsflhd get with the program Alex, this is not a safe space for questions

“I don’t want you to fail. I don’t want you to die” 😭🥺 Also I assume Yassen is gonna kill Grendel lol

“You wouldn’t have a clue” gosh the horror with Alex not knowing he could die at any moment

Lmao that smoke was some bad CGI, but I do love Yassen and Alex working together

Yassen being there to kill was very unsurprising but still a nice plot twist, he’s so polite offering to let Grendel finish his drink 🥰 Alex is so shocked lol

I was cruelly torn away from the ep right as Alex told Tom to leave and Yassen walked out, this tension is unbearable 😭

And then nothing happens lol I need an AU where Yassen catches them

Alex yelling at Mrs Rothman about getting him involved in murder… Alex bb I love you but you joined the murder organisation, you cannot be surprised when they commit murder in front of you like they did several times before

Though in fairness to Alex it’s probably more that he feels culpable and that he thought Max was on their side that bothers him

Ohh so we are blaming Mrs Jones!! Excited to get the assassination attempt, but really no idea how Scorpia thinks Alex is going to take the shot in this universe

Overall

Lots of Yassen and Alex scenes which was great! Loved the mission and Yassen shooting Grendel as he did. I’m a bit sad that Alex is no longer the key to dismantling Invisible Sword like in the book because they seem to have been able to work out the weapon pretty easily. Very excited to see the assassination attempt and more Yassen and Alex.

Thoughts/predictions

Noticed the students all sleeping together in bunk beds, and gosh it’s such a difference from the luxury in the book, where Scorpia is all money and the good life and even the killing is there, but it’s talked about like it’s very understandable that Alex is having trouble, he’s young, he just needs to see that it’s not so scary. While here they are a lot harsher on him, and I do miss the contrast with Alex’s experiences with the Department. Although I suppose Yassen is providing the ‘nice’ side of Scorpia here, along with Julia Rothman’s manipulation.

So we get confirmation that Julia is doing this for revenge against the UK and the Department, like Mrs Jones brings up, they don’t care about the aid. And like no offence but why did it take them that long to work that out ahsdlfhs. We also get told as a viewer that Alex already has the particles inside him (and no mention of it passing out of his system here), but Alex himself doesn’t know yet, which is a shame because I loved that in the book Alex is the only one who knows and he doesn’t tell them.

Gosh Alex telling Tom that he messed up was good, and I love his desperation in telling them to get out. I’d love an AU where Yassen does catch them and things go horribly wrong and tense.

I’m guessing Alex can get home pretty easily in this and that’s when we get the scene at the grave that was in the trailer and him telling Jack he knows who killed his father.

Questions

Once again, what does Yassen know?? He wants Alex to live so he’s clearly not on board with Mrs Rothman’s scheme, or at least it seems highly unlikely. But why assign him to Alex when Alex seems to be someone he cares about if they plan to kill him?

What’s the transmitter going to look like? Will there be a Church of Forgotten Saints? Given that we got Mrs Rothman walking around that miniature of a church in the first episode, I’m assuming there might be something like in canon, but perhaps not with the air balloon.

Is Kyra going to think that Alex was more involved with the murder than he was? She definitely saw they went in there to kill someone, so that could lead to interesting angst.

#alex rider tv #alex rider spoilers #alex rider tv spoilers #alex rider s3 #cyan watches alex rider s3 #alex rider #alex x yassen

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khutsydoh · 2 years

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I Wonder what people think about holder Tom badgerlock. He raised hap gladheart, the famous minstrel, became the manservant of lord golden and rumoured lover before said lord disappeared from the face of the earth with crippling debts, went to jail for triple murder and then was released and applauded as a loyal servant instead, then married molly Chandler, wife of chivalry's former right hand man and mother of skillmistress nettle. Oh, and he also wrote a book about the wit that bee was reading. People must think he sure had a crazy life

#fitz and the fool trilogy #rote spoilers #fitzchivalry farseer #robin hobb #realm of the elderlings #lord golden #Tom badgerlock

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digenerate-trash · 1 year

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HIM! Okay! He's got issues, but it's okay, we all do in this town-

I would LOVE his opinions on every LI if you don't mind going into details! I love learning about PCs! Go into as much detail as you want!

Robin - Robin and Clove are close of course they are they live in the same orphanage and go to school together. they're friends and even though Clove has no issue with Robin having a crush on him he's not interested in her romanticly at all. which is a little sad but their friendship remains strong though out that. Robin is the only orphan to share their electronics and games so Clove has not only taken on their debt but spends a lot of their time making sure Robin never gets into danger on his watch.

Whitney - Clove is head over heels for this bastard. constantly trying to impress him by being at his beck and call. a strong believer in the phrase "boys are only mean to you because they like you" which has led to some very strange issues with not only Whitney but his friends as well. would probably do everything shy of murder if he asked

Kylar - really wants to be /just/ friends with Kylar they're interesting sensitive smart and an artist so of course Clove would get along with them the issue is when Kylar is around Clove cant spend time with his other friends (and Whitney) because of the jealousy issue and because of the violent streak yet. usually, he'll put aside a day or two to spend with Kylar so they don't go totally off the rails.

Sydney - Sydney and Clove are study buddies mostly but it's obvious to everyone but them that theirs a mutual crush going on. Sydney is always willing to help with math which is the only subject Clove really has some major issues with. In return, Clove helps Sydney and Sirris set up their shop and helps out regularly around the library. will always take the blame for stolen books or anything else that Whitney steals.

Alex - Clove and Alex never really meet sadly. but that's only because Clove has a crippling fear of leaving the relative safety of the town. better to face the beast you know than something completely unknown. though Alex is exactly the kind of person that Clove could grow close to. with a real work ethic and a strong moral sense and Clove not being afraid of hard work. Alex and Clove would get along and probably end up forming a lasting relationship.

Eden- the crippling fear of the unknown keeps Clove firmly inside the town. but if CLove was to be carted off to Eden Id imagine there be a lot of strain on the relationship since everything that Eden does from the collar to the insatiable sex drive would remind them of Whitney they'd probably be miserable as Eden tries to cart them into being the perfect housewife even though Clove would rather physically die then have children or house keep for the rest of their life since they're in their twenties and their wild streak has just barely begun.

Avery - Avery has a strange appeal to Clove but there's an issue, Avery is too clean he's too polite he's too much for Clove. Clove can barely stand this attitude that everything needs to be perfect when they're together. this pisses off Avery because imagine getting rejected by a snot-nosed orphan boy who crossdresses! like Avery is probably the best thing to happen to this bastard and they keep skipping out on dates to hang out with a disheveled blonde. Clove only agrees to dates if they're desperate for the cash. and he thinks he or Robin could be in danger. and on those dates, he's the most well-behaved.

Hope this little insight into Clove is good!! if anyone has any more questions I'm so happy to answer stuff about my Pc!!

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anniekoh · 27 days

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The Hurricane Book: A Lyric History

By Claudia Acevedo-Quiñones (2023)

In this powerful debut, Claudia Acevedo-Quiñones pieces together the story of her family and Puerto Rico using a captivating combination of historical facts, poems, maps, overheard conversations, and flash essays. Organized around six hurricanes that passed through the island with varying degrees of intensity between 1928 and 2017, The Hurricane Book documents the myriad ways in which colonialism—particularly the relationship between the United States and the island—has seeped into the lives of Puerto Ricans, affecting how they and their land recover from catastrophe, as well as how families and citizens are bound to one another. Through accounts of relatives, folklore, and necessary escape, Acevedo-Quiñones illuminates both the tenderness and heartbreak of bonds with family and homeland. Moving seamlessly from the personal to the political to the environmental, she takes the reader through her own experience of family dynamics, mental illness, and substance abuse—and their long-reaching echoes—all against the backdrop of Puerto Rico’s struggles and beauty. An attempt at a colony’s etymology in a time when it is perpetually embattled by natural disasters, crippling debt, and the mass exodus of its people, The Hurricane Book is also an invitation to see the realities that many don’t want to see—a refusal to stay in the dark about ourselves or our collective history.

The Last Fire Season: A Personal and Pyronatural History

By Manjula Martin (2024)

Told in luminous, perceptive prose, The Last Fire Season is a deeply incisive inquiry into what it really means—now—to live in relationship to the elements of the natural world. When Manjula Martin moved from the city to the woods of Northern California, she wanted to be closer to the wilderness that she had loved as a child. She was also seeking refuge from a health crisis that left her with chronic pain, and found a sense of healing through tending her garden beneath the redwoods of Sonoma County. But the landscape that Martin treasured was an ecosystem already in crisis. Wildfires fueled by climate change were growing bigger and more frequent: each autumn, her garden filled with smoke and ash, and the local firehouse siren wailed deep into the night. In 2020, when a dry lightning storm ignited hundreds of simultaneous wildfires across the West and kicked off the worst fire season on record, Martin, along with thousands of other Californians, evacuated her home in the midst of a pandemic. Both a love letter to the forests of the West and an interrogation of the colonialist practices that led to their current dilemma, The Last Fire Season, follows her from the oaky hills of Sonoma County to the redwood forests of coastal Santa Cruz, to the pines and peaks of the Sierra Nevada, as she seeks shelter, bears witness to the devastation, and tries to better understand fire’s role in the ecology of the West. As Martin seeks a way to navigate the daily experience of living in a damaged body on a damaged planet, she comes to question her own assumptions about nature and the complicated connections between people and the land on which we live.

Other recommendations from Heatmap News.

#to read #climate change #hurricane #puerto rico #california #wildfire

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foundtherightwords · 1 year

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The Road Forgotten - Chapter 2

Pairing: Arthur Havisham (Dickensian) x OFC

A/N: I made Arthur bisexual and paired him with a female character in this. I know some writers have gotten flack for pairing Arthur with a female character (or reader), so if it's not your cup of tea, please walk away.

Mostly based on the events of "Dickensian", but I've also incorporated some elements and characters from "Great Expectations". Most notably, Satis House is in Kent (as in the book) instead of in London.

Summary: A few years after his plan to swindle his sister ended in tragedy, Arthur Havisham is a shadow of a man, living in guilt and fear. When Elsie Bradford, a young woman also wronged by Compeyson, enlists Arthur's help to hunt down his former partner-in-crime, Arthur must face his demons and other strange, new feelings, to redeem himself.

Warnings: slow burn, angst, revenge, guilt, psychological trauma, mention of prostitution, mention of suicide/suicide ideation, some violence, a bit of smut

Chapter word count: 3.1k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

What a rotten way to start the morning, Arthur thought as he was all but bundled unceremoniously into a coach. To be fair, though, his morning didn't exactly start as much as simply continuing from the night before. It had been all a blur after he finished the bottle of brandy. It had been so long since he'd had a drink to keep the ghosts at bay, and it hadn't lasted him a single night. He didn't even remember if the man Miss Bradford had caught in his room was an invited guest or if he had merely followed Arthur back to his lodgings in the hope of having a share of the brandy.

Miss Bradford. He couldn't figure her out. When she'd first approached him, he'd thought she was having him on. But he doubted it. What more could anyone have to do with him? He had nothing left.

He hadn't even gotten a good look at her. The other night, frightened out of his wits by Sikes's attack and later, in the gloom of the Three Cripples, he had only had a brief glimpse. Now he watched her as she settled into the seat next to him, clutching a bouquet of hyacinths she had bought from one of the flower sellers on the street. Her features were fine enough, he supposed, though her coloring was unfashionably dark, and there was something severe, even intimidating in the set of her mouth, the wings of black hair over her forehead, and her figure, all straight lines and sharp angles. Only her bright green eyes have a degree of softness in them, but as her default expression was a scowl, any gentle look from her was lost. The men's clothing from the other night had given her a certain mysterious allure. Now, out of them and confined in a plain dress, she looked almost spinsterish.

He realized he was being uncharitable. After all, she had paid off his debt, and she might prove to be a gentler creditor than that old crook Fagin. And she had seemed quite offended when he suggested that she was planning on blackmailing him. He had seen her slip the flower girl an extra coin as well. Yet she could also send Bill Sikes running off like a whipped dog, and talk about killing Compeyson without batting an eye. Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned... He had witnessed that himself. The memory made him shudder.

Around noon, the coach dropped them off at a small village nestled at the foot of the Surrey Hills. Spring had left her marks more clearly here, with soft green leaves on the trees, primroses and buttercups blooming in hedgerows, and orchards frothy with pink and white blossoms. Miss Bradford started to walk with long, easy strides, and Arthur scrambled to keep up.

"Who are we going to see?" he panted.

"My sister," she replied.

He was startled but tried to keep a calm countenance. "What... happened to her?" he asked.

"You'll see," was all she said.

He felt a chill in the bottom of his stomach. It had been five years since Compeyson went out of his life like a curse, leaving behind pain and destruction. The truth of what had truly transpired was not known to a lot of people. Sikes had helped with intimidating Compeyson into confessing, but the ruffian never asked where he was being paid for, as long as he was paid, and he hadn't been present at Satis House, where the majority of the drama had played out. Honoria Barbary, the would-be bridesmaid, was now Lady Dedlock, living on a great countryside estate in Lincolnshire. Jaggers was unlikely to talk. As time went by, the story had gotten lost. If anyone knew of it at all, they would only have a vague idea that some fool in London had been swindled out of his inheritance and a lady in Kent had been jilted at the altar, without even connecting the two victims. Arthur wondered how much of it had reached Miss Bradford, but he was afraid to ask.

They arrived at a park or estate of some sort, surrounded by tall stone walls. Miss Bradford went to talk to the man at the lodge, and he opened the heavy iron gates to let them through. They followed a path winding between thick lines of trees, toward a manor in the distance. The lawn was dotted with daisies, and there was a shaded dell behind the manor, where some bluebells had made an early appearance. At first, Arthur thought they were quite alone, but he glimpsed a few figures, mostly women, strolling or wandering slowly around the grounds, leaning on the arms of others. The whole place had the tranquil, slightly soporific atmosphere of a convalescent home. As they neared the house, however, the tranquility was broken by incoherent screams, rants, and whimpers, punctuated with shouts and frantic running.

Inside, the house was laid out as a manor, with an entrance hall that branched off into different corridors and rooms. The furnishings were a lot plainer than any manor Arthur had ever known, and he had never seen a house where the sharp corners of tables and cupboards had to be padded up either. The screams were louder than ever, but he didn't see the screamers. The only people around were sober, capable-looking women, dressed in black or gray, hurrying back and forth with sheets, trays, buckets, and all sorts of frightful-looking instruments. His suspicion was confirmed - this was no ordinary convalescent home, but a madhouse, an asylum. The realization did little to alleviate his fears. What had Compeyson done to Miss Bradford's sister that she had to be in such a place?

Miss Bradford seemed to know her way around. Ignoring the distressing noises, she went straight into a room just off to the right of the hall, which appeared to be a reception room. A kindly elderly lady in a black gown, whom Arthur took to be the matron, stood up and greeted Miss Bradford by name. "Mrs. Gordon," Miss Bradford said, "how is Marianne?"

"She's doing much better," the matron said, smiling.

"May I... may I see her?"

"Now, Miss Bradford, you know what the doctors said..."

Miss Bradford's face fell. "Please. I've come from such a long way." Seeing the matron eyeing Arthur suspiciously, she quickly said, "He's with me. He's a... friend. Marianne doesn't know him. Please, Mrs. Gordon."

The matron seemed to take pity on her. "Oh, all right, maybe just for a few minutes. But if she gets agitated, I must ask you to leave. You do understand that, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, yes," Miss Bradford said, nodding eagerly. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Gordon."

Throughout this entire exchange, Arthur hung back by the door, not knowing what to do or what was expected of him. He felt out of place, not quite threatened but uneasily conscious of his maleness in this world of women, troubled, hysterical women at that. But now Miss Bradford beckoned him to follow Mrs. Gordon to the back garden, where a few benches were set out amongst the rose bushes. Mrs. Gordon disappeared back into the house. Miss Bradford sat down on one of the benches, then stood up again, then sat back down, squeezing the hyacinths, until Arthur was sure they were quite bruised.

At last, Mrs. Gordon emerged from the house, bringing with her a girl about six or seven years younger than Miss Bradford, wearing a simple white dress. She had the same coloring, though her skin was much paler, and there was a vacant, childish look in her blue-green eyes. When Mrs. Gordon led her to the bench where Miss Bradford and Arthur were waiting, the girl didn't see them right away. She noticed the hyacinths left on the bench and fell upon them.

"Hyacinths!" she exclaimed in the same melodious voice as Miss Bradford's, but slightly higher, with a strangely reedy quality to it. "I didn't know they were in bloom already!"

"That's right, Marianne," Mrs. Gordon said. "And see who brought them for you." She directed the girl's attention toward Miss Bradford.

Miss Bradford took a step forward. Marianne tilted her head, gazing at her with an uncertain smile. With a trembling hand, Miss Bradford took off her bonnet. "Marianne, it's me. It's Elsie." She reached out with her other hand but couldn't find the courage to cross that final distance and touch the girl.

"Elsie?" Marianne repeated.

"Yes. Your sister," Miss Bradford said.

At that, a remarkable change came upon the girl. Her eyes widened, threatening to pop out of the face that had gone, if possible, even paler, and her whole body shook terribly. She threw away the hyacinths and covered her face with her hands. "No!" she screamed. "Elsie is not home! She's gone to the shops! She's going to bring me back a blue ribbon for my hair! Elsie is not home! Papa! Papa! Help! There's so much blood... Someone help me! Blood! Blood! Papa! Elsie is not home! Help!!!"

Several heads turned toward them. Miss Bradford shrank back, as if Marianne's words were scalding her. Mrs. Gordon took the trembling girl into her arms, trying to soothe her.

"I'm sorry," Miss Bradford sobbed. "I'm so sorry..."

"That's all right, I suppose it was my fault for agreeing to it as well," Mrs. Gordon said. "I thought she was past this." Marianne was still thrashing in her arms and screaming incoherence. A few stoutly-built women, dressed as orderlies, quickly ran over and helped Mrs. Gordon take Marianne back into the house, while her screams for help echoed through the garden and mingled with the screams from the house.

Arthur stumbled to the bench and sat down heavily on it. Those screams were horribly familiar to him, not in their words, but in their notes of hysterical anguish. He had heard similar screams five years ago, and had been hearing them every night since. Now he understood the reediness in Marianne's voice - the girl must have screamed herself hoarse so many times. Even her white dress had reminded him all too vividly of another young woman in white, driven mad with grief. He wondered how she would react upon seeing him again. Possibly in a very similar manner to how Marianne had reacted to Miss Bradford, perhaps even worse. His hands shook and his throat was parched. He wished he had pestered Miss Bradford into buying him a drink before they came here.

Miss Bradford picked up the hyacinths and tried in vain to rearrange them, but they were beyond help. This seemed to break something in her. She slumped down next to him, her body wracked with sobs. Arthur thought vaguely about patting her hand or offering her a handkerchief. They often did that to women in distress, didn't they? But he was too dazed to do anything except to listen to her cries, made all the more distressing because she was trying to choke them back. He didn't know how long they sat there, each lost in their own personal hell, until Miss Bradford finally gathered herself together with a sniff and stood up. Without a word, Arthur followed her.

Neither of them said anything all the way back to the village and during the return trip to London. It wasn't until they had repaired to the familiar smoky room of the Three Cripples, been reinvigorated by several pints of ale and Mrs. Cratchit's excellent pies, that Miss Bradford told Arthur her story.

"Our mother died giving birth to Marianne. I practically raised her. Our father had a small business in Hampshire, a silk mill. Ten years ago, he met Compeyson, who quickly gained his confidence and convinced him to invest in a coal mine, which turned out to be empty. He lost his entire fortune. He killed himself. And... Marianne found him." Miss Bradford's voice caught. She swallowed, composed herself, and continued, "Her mind was broken ever since. Everything from her old life, including me, reminds her of that horrible moment."

Yes, Arthur knew how the past could hurt, knew it all too well. But at least he still retained a fragment of his mind, a modicum of his self, no matter how pathetic it was.

"With no means to support ourselves, I left Marianne with a distant cousin and went to London to find work," Miss Bradford went on. "The only work I could find was at a hotel in Covent Garden, run by a Mrs. Hill. Well, they call it a hotel." A sad smile appeared on her lips, and she glanced down, as if embarrassed. Arthur felt his cheeks heating up. He himself had often visited those hotels, the conventional ones as well as the ones that catered to more specific tastes. "I was just a maid of all work at first. It was backbreaking work, and I couldn't earn enough to live, let alone for Marianne's keep. Without my money, the cousin stopped caring for Marianne and would leave her locked up for hours, even days..." Her voice choked again. Arthur didn't know where to look. Here he was, a moment ago, congratulating himself for not losing his mind, while it was nothing compared to what Miss Bradford and her sister had gone through. He thought again of frail, vacant Marianne as a little girl, locked up in the dark for hours with nothing but her horrible memories for company, and his heart pinched with an unfamiliar twinge of sympathy.

"So when Mrs. Hill asked how I should like to earn more money by doing something a lot easier, of course I said yes. And honestly, the work... wasn't bad, once you got used to it. Mrs. Hill never put me with the rowdy lot." Miss Bradford's voice remained even, but Arthur couldn't help noticing her hands never stayed still. She kept fiddling with a loose thread on her glove, or gripping and twisting the buttons on her sleeves. "But what I didn't know was that, while I remained a maid, I owned myself, but as soon as I became one of her 'girls', Mrs. Hill owned me. I owed her for everything, for the clothes I wore, the food I ate, the room I slept in, and the debt just kept piling up. I knew she would never let me pay it off, as long as I could still make her money. So I had to get out."

"How did you manage?" Arthur asked.

"I suppose you could say I got lucky," Miss Bradford said, still keeping her eyes on her restless hands. "A kindly gentleman would often come to Mrs. Hill's to see me, for the company more than pleasure, for he was a lonely old man. So when he passed, he left me enough money to pay off my debt and set Marianne up in an asylum."

Ah, so that explains it, Arthur thought, then felt ashamed for judging her. Would he have acted any differently, had he been in her shoes?

She finally lifted her head to look at him. "I'm not telling you this to evoke pity or sympathy, Mr. Havisham. I only wish to explain why I want to kill Compeyson. He not only took my fortune, but he took my family as well. If he had done that to your sister, wouldn't you feel the same?"

Arthur flinched, and Miss Bradford mistook his expression of despair for anger. "I don't mean to compare our misfortunes," she said in a gentler voice. "I know he swindled you as well." She was looking at him with sympathy. Nobody had looked upon him with kindness in so long that he almost didn't recognize it. He wanted to turn away, to tell her he didn't deserve her sympathy, that he was the maker of his own tragedy as well as another's. But he couldn't bring himself to confess. Instead, he only took a long draught of his ale and asked, "How did you hear about me and Compeyson?"

"I have the address of his lodgings in London. It was over ten years old, so I didn't have much hope, but the landlord remembers his name and knows he was often in your company. From there it was just a matter of asking around."

So she didn't know. He preferred it that way.

"But why do you need my help?" he said. "I've told you, I haven't seen him in five years. Your guess of his whereabouts is as good as mine."

"I must admit, I'm not merely seeking information from you. I'm hoping you would accompany me in my search."

"Why? You were doing quite well for yourself." He was a coward, and she didn't look like she was in need of a knight in shining armor.

Again, a compulsive twist of her palm. "Well, my knife is more for intimidation," she admitted. "I've never stabbed anyone. And my disguise may work well on a dark night in Saffron Hill, but you yourself know that Compeyson doesn't move in these circles. He seeks to ingratiate himself with wealth. And wealthy people may be disinclined to speak to a strange woman, but they may talk to you."

Arthur almost let out a bitter laugh. Even when the name Havisham still meant something around these parts, nobody had had a very high opinion of Arthur Havisham, let alone now, when he had been reduced to a miserable wretch. But this woman didn't know it. And she was looking at him with—if not hope and trust, then at least expectation and confidence, everything he was unaccustomed to, and he couldn't help feeling a bit pleased. Someone wanted him. Someone needed him. This would give him a purpose. Plus, he couldn't deny that a small part of him, a part that didn't cower in fear at the mere mention of Compeyson's name, a part that still retained some of the Havisham's pride and strength of will, actually wished he could do what this woman was trying to do - to punish the foul fiend. It was true that she wanted a version of him that never was, but perhaps he could find it in himself to be that person.

When he didn't say anything for a while, Miss Bradford let out a resigned sigh. "I thought we could help each other, since we have an enemy in common. But if you prefer to not get involved, I understand." She brushed the pie crumbs from her lap and stood up. "Consider the debt I paid for you a gift, from one victim to another. I shall not bother you again."

She turned to leave. Before his newfound resolve had a chance to fade away, Arthur put out a hand to stop her.

"Wait, Miss Bradford," he said. "I'll help you."

Chapter 3

#arthur havisham #dickensian #arthur havisham fic #arthur havisham x ofc #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn

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mostlysignssomeportents · 10 months

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This day in history

#15yrsago Controlling copies isn’t necessarily part of an artist’s livelihood, but getting them accurately attributed is https://www.oblomovka.com/wp/2008/08/07/copyright-fraud-and-window-taxes-no-not-that-windows/

#15yrsago Stealing things according to the “If value, then right” theory https://www.hyperorg.com/blogger/2008/08/03/20-things-ive-stolen/

#15yrsago Deadmalls as new urbanist playgrounds https://web.archive.org/web/20080810100736/https://www.worldchanging.com/local/seattle/archives/008250.html

#10yrsago EB White on why he wrote Charlotte’s Web: “A book is a sneeze” https://web.archive.org/web/20130806171658/http://www.lettersofnote.com/2013/08/a-book-is-sneeze.html

#10yrsago Revealed: the questing, flexible, ramified business-end of a mosquito https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLIYuXlUS3k

#10yrsago Atherton, CA’s police blotter: 175 out of 182 reported police stops had drivers with Hispanic surnames https://web.archive.org/web/20140326100901/https://kentbrew.com/profiling-atherton/

#10yrsago Firefox nukes the blink tag https://www.mozilla.org/en-US/firefox/23.0/releasenotes/

#5yrsago Talking copyright, internet freedom, artistic business models, and antitrust with Steal This Show https://torrentfreak.com/steal-show-s04e03-printing-new-reality-cory-doctorow/

#5yrsago New York City makes all prisoner calls free https://www.nytimes.com/2018/08/06/nyregion/phone-calls-free-nyc-jails.html

#5yrsago Former Obama trade official teams up with Trump to create highly profitable TB epidemics in poor countries https://theintercept.com/2018/08/07/tuberculosis-declaration-trump-phrma/

#5yrsago Anonymous declares war on Qanon https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vFHzrmk5Md0

#5yrsago Cornered FCC admits that its website was never hacked https://techcrunch.com/2018/08/06/fcc-admits-it-was-never-actually-hacked/

#5yrsago UK regulators ban lies in ISP ads, advertised speeds drop by 41% https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2018/08/isps-listed-speeds-drop-up-to-41-after-uk-requires-accurate-advertising/

#5yrsago Economic indicators: consumer debt continues to grow, delinquency rises, students face “crippling debt” https://wallstreetonparade.com/2018/08/financial-health-of-u-s-consumer-will-determine-severity-of-the-next-recession/

#5yrsago A gorgeous history of the mid-century modernism by Disney’s finest illustrators of the 1950s https://memex.craphound.com/2018/08/07/a-gorgeous-history-of-the-mid-century-modernism-by-disneys-finest-illustrators-of-the-1950s/

#5yrsago What’s at stake in the fight over printing files for guns https://memex.craphound.com/2018/08/07/whats-at-stake-in-the-fight-over-printing-files-for-guns/

#1yrago Epson boobytrapped its printers https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/inky-wretches/#epson-salty

I’m kickstarting the audiobook for “The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation,” a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and bring back the old, good internet. It’s a DRM-free book, which means Audible won’t carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

#pluralistic

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colonelshepparrrrd · 8 days

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Getting to Know You Meme

Thanks for the tag @spurious !! ��

01) Are you currently in a serious relationship? Hahaha Lol... no

02) What was your dream growing up? I have no idea, ADHD hyperfixations so they changed all the time.

03) What talent do you wish you had? Normal Executive Function

04) If someone bought you a drink what would it be? Double vodka cran or a marg

05) Favorite vegetable? What's taters precious?

06) What was the last book you read? Uhhhhhhh... I think I read two pages out of Theories of International Politics and Zombies before I got distracted

07) What zodiac sign are you? Scorpio

08) Any Tattoos and/or Piercings? 3 tattoos, half sleeve on my left arm, back piece, one across my hips

09) Worst Habit? Scratching at the dry skin or pimples on my face.

10) What is your favorite sport? Snow and skateboarding

11) Do you have a Pessimistic or Optimistic attitude? Whatever plan for the worst hope for the best falls under.

12) Tell me one weird fact about you. If I can, I will always want to permanently destroy things I've created (art or writing) or possessions if I don't want to exist anymore. Either by fire, or if it's online, try and delete every trace of it. And it's bothers the fuck out of me when I can't, but I've learned to live with it.

13) Do you have any pets? Two cattos

14) Do you think clowns are cute or scary? Neither, I think they're fucking annoying and have no sense of personal space.

15) If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be? Not needing to wear glasses/contacts anymore.

16) What color eyes do you have? Green

17) Ever been arrested? No

18) Bottle or can soda? Can I guess, I don't drink soda though.

19) If you won $10,000 today, what would you do with it? Pay off a bunch of debt, buy a bed.

20) What's your favorite place to hang out at? Outside on my patio in the sun or at night (stargazing)

21) Do you believe in ghosts? I want to believe.

22) Favorite thing to do in your spare time? I'd like to draw more in my spare time, but what I really do is doom scroll the same 5 apps

23) Do you swear a lot? Fuck yes

24) Biggest pet peeve? People with extremely annoying unmovable confirmation bias about things they want to see/believe, and cherry pick information to suit said bias.

25) In one word, how would you describe yourself? Socially-awkward

26) Do you believe/appreciate romance? I guess?

27) Favourite and least favourite food? Fav: Anything I can eat with hot sauce and/or cookies or ice cream. Least fav: anything that's really salty, dark meat/meat with a lot of fatty pieces (seriously fuck marbling in steak, sorry not sorry)

28) Do you believe in God? No.

29) What makes you happy: A thing I did last Thursday, my cats, and my internet friends (love you guys!)

30) Currently listening/the last thing you listened to: The ambient noises of my apartment (dehumidifier, laptop fans)

31) Favourite place to spend time: By my lake on a warm pitch black night stargazing

32) Favourite lyric: (One of them)

"Self doubt breaks down my resolve It cripples a part of my soul And masterfully I'll hide my pain (smell the decay) Dead eyes and a hollow smile Pitch black, my vision is gone And masterfully I'll hide my pain"

33) Recommend a film: Ferocious Planet

34) Recommend a book: Metro 2033

35) Recommend a band, a song, or album: Atreyu - The Beautiful Dark of Life - (i)

36) Recommend a TV show: Stargate Atlantis

37) Where are you from, and do you still live there? Where have you lived? British Coloumbia, no. A bunch of places in Ontario

38) Do you have any pets or animals in your life? How did you find/get them? Two cats, one was adopted from the humane society, the other was a rescue.

39) What's the most unusual thing you've ever eaten? Shark when I was a kid (I hate that I ate it though)

40) How did you 'find' fandom? In the most awkward and painstaking way you can imagine.

41) Make a list of 5 things that you see without getting up. Laptop, bigger monitor, two John Sheppard action figures (one is in a control chair), Puddle Jumper model.

42) How do you style your hair? I have a death hawk hairstyle, sides are usually around a 3 or 4, the long part of my hair goes to the middle of my back, I have side bangs that stick out sometimes (cowlick), if I wear it in a ponytail or bun it goes lopsided (another cowlick). Natural colour (medium - dark brown, some grey).

If you see this and want to do it consider yourself no pressure tagged! 💜💜💜🤙

#tag games

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lemonyinks · 16 days

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sometimes i am tempted to try and find science (specifically astrophysics) forums to talk on because I have such a genuinely love for it but just. Don't have the money to go to college for it and don't know if I'm willing to go into insane student debt for it. But then I get hit with the crippling fear that I won't be welcomed in those spaces because I don't actually know a lot since theres only so much I can learn through online articles and basic books from libraries.

I don't want to make a fool of myself and be any more discouraged from learning about things I love than I already am, but it can be so lonely being the only person I know that likes these kinds of things and I just want to talk about them. I want to have someone else info dump to me about them. I wanna have conversations.

#i don't know a lot but i WANT to learn #but i hate when people make me feel bad about wanting to learn #and i'm scared that's what is going to happen if i tried to join a forum of some kind #and i don't even know if such forums exist #but i wish they did #sorry guys just feeling a little sad and lonely over here don't mind me #my gf has 0 interest in this kind of stuff and i think my brother is actively afraid of space and i'm too shy to info dump to #most of my friends #so i'm just #sigh #vent #< adding that just in case #i'm just whinning a bunch its not that deep but idk maybe someone doesn't want to see it

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incarnateirony · 10 months

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See, here's what fans also don't understand, realistically.

Right now, the strikes have been going on for long enough that the streamer pipeline is already running dry. Studios are pushing back volumes of movie releases, whether silver screen or straight to streamer; some are even already done but still being moved back due to lack of advertising method and the general PR on it, and they know they can't just stunt on Barbenheimer logic forever. Especially not as the public gets more and more woke.

They snowballed investors with apparent cash flow last round but it's all from inability to order product. Without product, there is no profit. Now, studios dumped a fuckton back into other takes that are just systemically crippling themselves as they move forward.

But thing is, they've shot themselves in the foot, analysts are mentioning how foolish the studios feel internally having thought their old tactics would work, in this new digital age. It isn't working.

Even if they came to the table TOMORROW, and gave the guilds everything they want, they have utterly fucked themselves for the next Year, Easily.

Like, you gotta keep in mind how much double booking there will be. Some big releases will end up delayed up to two years now. Sets, crews, actors, etc are all gonna be busy as hell once this opens up. Investors are starting to realize this too. Studios have been trying to position to hold up their Q3s enough to look like they have it in control, but various press slips and reaction of guilds and the public have just made it highlight worse, and CEOs of companies like WB simply aren't structured to take this. Not because they can't afford the union raises--they absolutely can if the suits take reasonable cuts to their salaries--but because WBD for example has 50B debt, trashed ESG scores, inability to pull classic loans, and are risking giving majority shares to investors waiting to essentially buy them out a piece at a time, there are investor vultures hovering the sickly bodies of WBD while Zaslav yells to the sky that it's fine and he has it under control. Knowing if people started writing new shit TOMORROW it wouldnt even hit production till christmas and release till spring, these studios have essentially assfucked themselves into a year without content. All from stubborn pig headed corporate greed which is going to do several of them in.

WBD is already cracking. They've watched active [point and click] fallout of their stocks or investors off of simple conversations, or have other investors going, wtf are you doing, you're not even just hurting our investment with you, you're fucking up the entire economy and my entire stock portfolio. No, you're not gonna blame the fucking workers.

That's why they're whispering about coming to the table again. Their attempt to spin this on the strikers has utterly failed and now cities are sending them comptroller letters and legal omens about damages. That's why the ~boycott was never ~officially announced. WGA/SAG doesn't need to be on the receiving end of those letters. The studios do. The ~boycott will happen naturally as their shows melt away and people unsubscribe to not keep paying inhumane streamers. That is literally the entire point of stopping content lines, and fandom is heehaw making donkey noises pretending they can't hear it so they can keep watching shows and enabling studio comfort But the end result is the same. If fandom refuses to listen to the guy running for leadership to replace the president This September, Very Conveniently, like. That's fine but please try not to embarrass yourselves later pretending it Just Now Magically is what the guild wanted.

Stop enabling each other, and stop enabling studios. You are on the wrong side of history here yall.

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gmmcast · 1 year

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What is GMMCast, Anyway?

So if you're new to our podcast, you may have some questions. What kind of podcast is it? What's it about? Who's involved? Is it affiliated with Good Mythical Morning and therefore Rhett and Link? ...To tackle the last question first: no, we are not affiliated with them, our acronyms just overlap. Onto the rest! Green Mountain Mysteries is an actual play podcast, hosted by The Pocket Podcast Network! We play a roleplaying game together, edit it down, and then release it as a serialized narrative. Our game master and editor, Michael Freitag, even writes an entirely original score for the show!

We play The Dresden Files Roleplaying Game by Evil Hat Games, based on the series of urban fantasy novels by Jim Butcher. For those unfamiliar; the books are about Harry Dresden, the only 'Professional Wizard' in Chicago's phonebook and the various mysteries he's hired or pressganged into solving.

Our show takes place in that same world, with all the Fae politics, magical conflicts, and monstrous entities that come with it. However, our story takes place in Burlington, Vermont and begins on January 1st, 2020.

Mere hours into the new year, a ghost ship rises from the depths of Lake Champlain and dredges up a small army of undead with it. This proves to be but the beginning of a cascade of magical events and crises that engulf the city.

Cue the theme music and the poster!

Standing in the way of these magical cataclysms is four individuals. A psychic, a doctor, a thief, and a hunter.

First is Desdemona Brown (Played by Christine Tardif): Desdemona is a medium psychic with everything that entails, communing with the spirits of the dead for a reasonable fee.

What most people don't know is that she's the genuine article.

What even fewer people know is that she's haunted by a strange entity that only calls itself 'Mister Jack', a mysterious devil on her shoulder that grants her power, but continues to add it to an unspecified 'debt' she will one day be forced to pay. Second is Doctor Sylvester Coopersmith (Played by Darius Southland): Once a promising athlete headed for the professional soccer leagues, Sly Coopersmith suffered a strange, supernatural attack that nearly crippled him and derailed his big league ambitions.

In the wake of this, he's relocated from New York City to Burlington. Here, he's become an MD, a proctologist, a college professor, and a bitterly sarcastic prick. Despite his attempts at the contrary, his life is once again drawn into the magical and supernatural, neither of which he has the time or patience for.

If magical bullshit is going to come to him, he's going to kick it in the goddamn teeth.

Third is Rosetta 'Ro' Kamen (Played by Gwen Vetter): The prodigal, estranged daughter of a Rhode Island mob boss, Ro Kamen is a professional criminal, a thief-for-hire. She can break into anywhere; get in quick, out quietly, and make a tidy profit doing so.

She also is half-fae, the daughter of a Sidhe. A Changeling. A fact she didn't discover until this past year.

Her hunt for her missing fiancé, Valencia, has brought her to Burlington, Vermont. It's here where she finds herself drawn deeper into the supernatural world she's always been a part of and never known, learning more about what she is... and what she might be capable of.

Finally, there's Albion Graves (Played by Thom Freitag): When Albion was a teenager, a chance encounter with a renegade vampire ended in death and violence. It also lead to Albion's introduction to a secret society of monster hunters, the Noctis Vigilia.

Rather than run from the horrors he was forced to witness, Albion followed the Noctis deeper into them. He's become a wandering monster hunter, armed with a small arsenal of weapons and tools of the trade as much as his unshakeable faith in the patron of his hunt, Odin All-Father.

His wandering draws him to Burlington, where he quickly finds himself in the middle of a much larger supernatural crisis. One that's going to require a lot more than mere firepower to survive.

If these characters or this story sounds like something you'd enjoy, I'd encourage you to check us out!

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#GMMCast #the dresden files #roleplaying game #podcast #actual play podcast #actual play #green mountain mysteries

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