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vanteguccir · 1 year ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYOU MAKE LOVING FUN * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where the sun inside Matt fell in love with the moon inside Y/N; OR, 4 moments between sunshine Matt and grumpy Y/N.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　mentions of blood and pain.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N has always been known for her serious expression and sarcastic humor. She had a cynical view of the world and seemed to find fault with almost everything around her. On the other hand, Matt was the complete opposite. His smile was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, brightening up any room with his contagious positivity. It was as if he was determined to find the good in everything, no matter how dark it was.

The two were in the same class together at Boston high school, part of the same group of friends, which meant they did a lot of group work together, and it was precisely there where their contrasting personalities often collided. Y/N was meticulous and perfectionist in her work, while Matt preferred to approach topics with a more relaxed and laid-back attitude. This often put them at odds, but it also created an interesting dynamic.

One afternoon, during a school work meeting at the triplets' house, Y/N was particularly grumpy. She had faced a series of setbacks in her home and was on the verge of exploding. Matt, as always, tried to cheer her up with his light humor and unwavering optimism.

"You should relax a little." Matt murmured with a smile as his right hand worked quickly with his computer mouse, putting together the perfect slide for the presentation that would take place the next day, using Nick and Alahna's notes and research. "Not everything has to be so serious all the time."

Y/N rolled her eyes from her spot on the edge of Matt's bed, pushing the notebook that rested on her thighs roughly, feeling frustrated with his persistent attempt to lift her spirits. She knew he was just trying to help, but at that moment, all she wanted was some peace and quiet.

However, something inside her changed when she lifted her gaze to Matt's smiling face, who was still holding the mouse as he watched her from the corner of his eye. In that moment, the girl saw beyond the surface, beyond the facade of constant happiness. She saw the genuine kindness in his eyes, the compassion in his smile. And for the first time, something inside her crumbled, breaking the wall that had held firm for so many years.

A small smile began to form on Y/N's lips, almost imperceptible, but still present. It was a smile that lit up her entire face in a way never seen before and made her eyes shine with an inner light that had long been dormant.

Matt was surprised to see Y/N smiling, abandoning his task instantly and turning his face completely towards her, trying to make sure he was actually seeing that. It was as if he had witnessed something sacred, something few were lucky enough to see - maybe only him. The brunette was speechless, simply admiring the sight before him.

"What?" Y/N asked, noticing the look of shock on Matt's face, her smile fading almost automatically, giving way to her usual frown.

"It's just…" Matt began, struggling to find the right words. "It's the first time I've seen you actually smiling. And it's so pretty."

Y/N felt shy by the compliment but also inexplicably happy. She had never realized how her smile could affect someone so deeply, especially someone like Matt, who radiated joy wherever he went.

"You should smile more-"

"Shut up."

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The night was calm when Matt returned from his hockey practice, but the mood inside the triplets' house was far from peaceful. He walked through his bedroom door with his shoulders hunched and his face pale, showing the anguish that consumed him inside and out.

Y/N, who was sitting on his bed reading a book while she waited for him - a habit created between them, and which his parents and brothers adored - looked up when hearing the door open. Upon seeing Matt, she immediately noticed something was wrong. Her heart sank while witnessing the boy's low stance.

"Matt? Hey, what happened?" She asked, setting the book aside and quickly standing up from her previous seat, walking towards him with a frown decorating her face.

Matt didn't respond right away. Instead, he broke down when his ears finally heard the voice he had waited for so many hours, tears flowing freely down his face. He was shaking, struggling to control his emotions as the weight of his feelings enveloped him like a dense fog.

"Hey pretty boy, breathe." Y/N ordered, pulling him into an awkward but loving hug. "It's okay. Just breathe."

Matt sniffed, trying to regain control of himself. He took a few deep breaths, following her instructions, before finally finding the voice to speak.

"It was at hockey practice." The brunette began, his voice wavering with crying and raw emotions. "One of the guys on the team... he said some horrible things to me about my performance, and I-" A sob interrupted his speech, his blue eyes closing tightly in an attempt to hold in the ugly sounds.

Y/N slowly pulled away, snaking her right hand from his bicep to his head, cupping his cheek gently, looking at his face for the first time that afternoon, her movements stopping suddenly.

The girl felt a wave of anger bubbling up inside her as she saw her boyfriend's face swollen and stained with blood in strategic spots, clearly having been punched by someone else. She clenched her left fist tightly, causing her fingers to take in a pale hue, her eyes flashing with contained fury as her chest tightened with the anguish she felt emanating from Matt's body.

"Who was it?" Y/N's firm and determined voice echoed through the room like thunder as her right hand gently turned his face from side to side, her hard eyes running over his injured skin. "Who said those things to you? No, even better. Who did this to you? I'll finish him off, I swear."

Matt's eyes widened instantly, surprised by her reaction. He knew Y/N could be tough when needed - all the time - but seeing her so determined to protect him left him speechless.

His cheeks took on a reddish hue, disguised by the blood and redness caused by crying, his lips pressed together in an attempt to contain a smile while his heart accelerated involuntarily, a small wince escaping his throat with the movement of his mouth.

"I'm fine, baby-"

"You're not, and after I'm done with whoever did this to you, he won't be fine either." Y/N interrupted him rudely, raising her eyebrows in an act of confrontation, as if she was confronting him to continue the lie.

"It's okay, sunshine. Just let it go. Please?" Matt's warm tongue escaped his lips, wetting them, while his blue eyes seemed to beg her to forget about the guy and focus on himself.

"Alright." The girl let out a loud, angry sigh, rolling her eyes as she stroked his blood-stained cheek gently. "Come on, let's take care of this."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was busy that night, with lively conversation and laughter echoing off the walls. Y/N was sitting at a table next to Matt and his brothers, trying to enjoy the meal despite the crowd around them. However, her already dark mood was about to deepen even further.

As Y/N cut into her steak with an air of concentration, she noticed a man at the next table out of the corner of her eyes. He looked arrogant, a smug smile playing on his lips as he said horrible things about a girl to his table-mates. But it was when he looked in Y/N's direction that she felt a chill run down her spine.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Y/N felt a wave of discomfort spread through her. She couldn't explain why, but something about that guy made her nervous, his arrogant and sexist comments causing her body to scream, almost begging for her to do something.

Matt noticed the subtle change in Y/N's expression and followed her gaze to the next table, running his blue eyes over the unknown man's figure. He frowned, confused by the sudden intensity of Y/N's gaze, practically feeling her fury emanating from her body.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Matt asked in an almost imperceptible whisper, leaning towards her and bringing his mouth closer to her ear, keeping his eyes on the table next to them. "Why don't we like him?"

Y/N blinked, surprised by Matt's direct question. She turned her head towards him slowly, frowning and running her eyes over his curious and playful expression, their noses almost touching with their proximity.

"You're so annoying, do you know that?" The girl asked in a cynical tone, raising her right eyebrow as she assessed him with her eyes.

"But you still love me." Matt replied quickly, as if he already had the answer on the tip of his tongue. A smirk grew on his lips as he draped his right arm over the back of the wooden chair his girlfriend sat on, caressing the skin of her exposed shoulder with his fingertips gently.

"Doesn't make you less annoying."

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Y/N was busy in the kitchen of the large room in her house that she shared with the triplets, preparing a special meal to welcome the boys' parents, Jimmy and Mary Lou, who were about to arrive for a visit in Los Angeles. She was determined to impress them with her cooking skills and make the couple's first day in the bustling city worth it.

While stirring a pan of sauce, Y/N heard footsteps approaching and soon Matt's figure left the small hall that led to their room and entered the kitchen with a beaming smile on his face, his feet taking him closer to his girl almost automatically.

"Hi sunshine, need help?" He asked, stepping forward to grab an apron and approach the stove, his blue eyes darting over all the ingredients laid out as his brain tried to process what she was making.

Y/N looked up at him, her face hardened with concentration as her right hand never stopped moving the spoon.

"No, thank you." The girl responded quickly, shaking her head and returning her gaze to the sauce below her. "I can do this on my own."

Matt frowned, ignoring her answer and rescuing a steak knife from the cutlery drawer, extending his free hand towards the still raw meat, ready to cut it into ideal sizes.

"Matt, I said I can do it myself." Y/N repeated slowly, as if she were speaking to a child, casting a furtive glance at him from the corner of her eye.

"I know you can, petal." The boy murmured softly, putting down the knife and raising his now free hand towards his girl, lightly pressing his warm palm against her still arm, caressing her skin. "But I want to be here with you to help in some way. It doesn't have to be everything or nothing."

Y/N sighed, feeling a little guilty about her own reaction. She didn't want to push Matt away, especially when he was just trying to be caring and helpful.

"Okay... I'm sorry." Her apology escaped in a barely there whisper, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a firm grip.

"What are we having for dinner today?" Chris's loud and excited voice echoed through the living room and kitchen as the boy climbed the stairs that led him from his room, interrupting the moment between the couple, eliciting a laugh from Matt and an eye roll from Y/N.

"None of your business."

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marzipanandminutiae · 10 months ago

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Do you know much about historical cuisine? Saw yet another anime with friends and they went the whole 'modern food always tastes better' bit. I feel tired of the trope and am wondering how different historical cuisine would taste compared to modern times. So anything you happen to know as a historian would be cool to know!

That varies MASSIVELY based on time and location. Like. Much more than fashion does, even, I'd imagine (in a given sub-region- I can talk about Mainstream European and Euro-American Fashion of the 19th CenturyTM but the food was so different in different countries that were dressing the same, if that makes sense? just as an example).

Food is often more globalized in a lot of places nowadays, so the characters might have more diversity of flavors from the regional norm than they're used to. But this could be a good or a bad thing- a woman from 17th-century Japan might love pizza and much sweeter Western pastries, or she might absolutely hate them. Which is not to say regional cuisines haven't evolved, too- a museum here in Boston used to have tastings of 18th-century-style hot chocolate, and it was very different from the modern sort. But that's the largest blanket difference across the globe that I can think of, food-wise.

Not sure what anime this was, so it could have been Japan-specific, but I feel like this gets applied the most to the 19th-mid 20th century UK and United States. The whole Captain America line about "food's better; we used to boil everything," for example, and the general belief that everything was bland mush in those areas until the 1950s and then it was incomprehensible Jell-O mold horrors until approximately the 1980s. And of course, none of that's true- there were plenty of dishes that used spices and different cooking methods, many of which are still popular today. See also: Jonathan Harker, a Normal 1890s Englishman, getting so rhapsodical about paprikahendl that he simply must have the recipe for his fiancee to make. There also WERE bland mushes and fluorescent nightmares, but there's less than ideal food today, as well.

(Note that I'm much less confident talking about the whole English StodgeTM thing as we get into the 20th century. That is outside my history wheelhouse and there's a lot of different stuff embroiled in it relating to class and such that I don't want to talk out my ass about. All I know is that I've seen plenty of recipes from as late as the end of the 19th century, from England and some from urban Scotland if I recall correctly, that made ample use of spices. Nutmeg, mustard, black pepper, rosemary, caraway, and cayenne pepper were especially popular (not all together obviously). There was a belief among the middle and upper classes that strong flavors of garlic and onion were distasteful to ladies, but the fact that cookbooks and such feel the need to mention it implies that those elements WERE being used in cooking generally, in the UK, at that time. So wherever the idea that All British Food Is Beige And Tasteless came from, it wasn't mainstream late Victorian cooking for adults as far as I can tell)

(They gave kids a fair amount of the beige and tasteless because they believed their digestive systems couldn't handle strongly-flavored- okay now I'm getting off topic. Read Ruth Goodman's "How To Be A Victorian." Anyway!)

tl;dr- The answer to "is modern food better?" is "that's literally impossible to answer as a blanket statement, since it's massively dependent on the character's original time, place, social status, and personal taste- and where they end up in the present, of course."

Now, I do agree that the trope is annoying the same way every single princess being totally shocked and appalled when her marriage is arranged gets annoying- not because it can't be true based on history and human behavior, but because fiction treats it as some kind of universal precept. Mix it up a little sometimes! Have a Regency character who comes to the present, finds out that her favorite local cheese isn't being made anymore, and loses her entire mind!

#ask #anon #long post #history #culinary history #food history

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mpreg-consandvans · 5 months ago

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Lazarus Barnes leaned against his desk to support himself as he felt his baby kick for the first time and a sinking sense of dread came over him. His nearly forty year career as an educator was suddenly in jeopardy over one tiny mistake and he could only curse himself internally, for if he breathed a word of this to anyone in the school, the board of directors would have him ousted in an instant.

He'd given Thorpe Academy his golden years. The all-male private school catered to the elite of Boston and Lazarus himself was to thank for that, in no small measure. Starting as an English teacher and working his way up to Headmaster had been no mean feat, requiring skillful understanding of internal politics, the fickle winds of change and the intuitive grasp of the palms to grease, but Lazarus had crested that peak just five years ago and quickly solidified himself as a beacon of a new era, cleaning out the rot of yesteryear and bringing the school screeching forward into the 21st century by securing grants for updated technology resources, athletic facilities and extracurricular programs in just his first year on the job.

While celebrating this high during the summer break, Lazarus received correspondence from a surprising name: an old college flame, by the name of James Colridge III. The two men had struck up quite the passionate love affair all those years ago, only sullied by James' parents' insistence that he carry on the family name in the only respectable way available in those days, by marrying a woman. The heartbreak had never fully healed for Lazarus, who'd never taken a spouse, instead moving out of James' native Chicago and finding himself in Boston, where he became devoted to the study of literature's great romantics, poets and provocateurs, in order to share the beauty of their work with a new generation. James had followed his family's plan, based on the Christmas cards Lazarus received for many years, though they hadn't gotten their exact wish, as James and his wife ended up with three daughters, all now grown with families of their own.

James' current inquiry, however, was about something unrelated to his wife and daughters. As it turned out, he'd taken a lover a number of years ago. A male lover. A much younger male lover, who'd wound up pregnant and bore a son, the now-tweenaged James Colridge IV. The elder James hoped to secure a spot for the younger James at Thorpe Academy, so that he could receive a better education and be extricated from the vice grip of his bearing father, who the elder James found irresponsible, lazy and a generally poor influence on their son. Misty eyed at the opportunity to help his former lover, Lazarus Barnes immediately rubber stamped the application for James Colridge IV as a member of the 2021 Freshman class.

The boy was a handful, Lazarus quickly found. "Jay", as the younger James preferred to be called, was defiant, uncouth, destructive and unpleasant to be around...and he was the spitting image of the elder James. He resented being sent to boarding school and was not shy to shout about it to anyone who'd listen. He tried to skip classes - difficult, since the campus was locked down during school hours and surrounded by an 8-foot fence, but he still gave it a whirl to decidedly mixed results. This landed him several weeks of detention and revoked privileges. Lazarus was not fazed. They got a few of these unruly boys each year. They required special attention.

As such, Lazarus made this pupil his personal challenge. Private tutoring was step one. Jay's English scores were abysmal, though he showed promise, so Lazarus arranged to meet weekly with him to discuss his classwork and help develop his thoughts more effectively. Though viewing this attempt to reach out with obvious distaste at first, Jay softened rather quickly and showed a natural ability for prose, which Lazarus jumped on and fostered into serious improvements in class performance within just the first few months of class. Lazarus saw the boy off for the first holiday break in December proud of his progress and hoping to continue in January.

The Jay that returned had regressed completely to the miserable, bitter version Lazarus had met at the beginning of the year. Lazarus fired off an email to the boy's father, who apologized and claimed that relations with the bearing father had become strained during the holidays, leading to several shouting matches with their son present. Something about money. He apologized profusely and offered a sizable donation to Thorpe Academy for the trouble, which Lazarus considered seriously, but decided to reject.

It took less time to return Jay to a functional student than it had to convert him in the first place, but it was still hard work and the boy had dark moods where he confessed things to Lazarus that the headmaster was sure he was not meant to hear. Nothing specifically violating his duty as a mandatory reporter if he kept them to himself, but definitely not things that James would be happy to hear about the boy's other father. Lazarus resolved to continue providing a stable, safe environment for Jay at Thorpe Academy and decided to request that Jay become a year-rounder, not returning home for most holiday breaks and only spending a week there in the summer. James had assented to the arrangement and though Jay resisted initially, he came around to the idea by the time spring break came and was pleased to have a week to himself to free-write and read books that weren't assigned.

Jay's one summer week at home delivered him back to Thorpe Academy in a pensive, quiet state, a far cry from the belligerence of earlier time at home. When probed on the change, he'd merely asked if he was required to spend time at home during the summer, as he preferred his time at Thorpe and wished to spend the whole summer there. The headmaster had consulted James and the plan was amended again to accommodate this.

Lazarus' time during Jay's second year on campus was dominated by construction oversight and scheduling, so he slackened his tight leash on the student, who seemed to be having no major issues, was making friends and excelled academically. Their meetings became monthly rather than weekly, while Lazarus worked through a new batch of troubled freshmen, which seemed to be fine for Jay, who now used the headmaster as his editor and extra pair of eyes more than a tutor. This continued through the next year as well and Lazarus began to notice the boy blossoming into a man, growing to look even more like James. It was uncanny, the resemblance, especially when the light in his office fell just so, illuminating the angles of his cheekbones.

It was the summer of the third year that brought everything screeching to a halt. Lazarus awoke to his phone ringing insistently with a Chicago area code. Answering the phone yielded the Chicago police department informing him that James Colridge III was dead in a suspected homicide, alongside another man, who seemed to have lethally overdosed after strangling James to death. Lazarus knew instantly that this could only be James' lover and realized that Jay's life was suddenly in flux for a number of reasons, the least of which was that Lazarus, as Jay's temporary legal guardian while at school, was now his de facto guardian until the court system worked its magic.

With help from a local police sergeant, Lazarus had awoken Jay in the dormitories and broken the news to him. Jay's breakdown was strangely muted. He certainly cried, but not to histrionics. He'd expected this to happen. Lazarus stayed at his bedside until he'd felt ready to face the day and shepherded him for the rest of the day as he attended the first counseling session Lazarus had arranged on a rush basis with the school's therapist.

Becoming more protective by the day, Lazarus was also the chaperone for Jay's first trip home in over two years, to attend his parents' funerals and attend the reading of their wills. James' funeral proved uncomfortable. Lazarus seated them towards the back of the room and when James' wife's eyes passed over Jay in the crowd as she delivered his eulogy, Lazarus detected a sneer cross her face. She'd likely have had it deepened even further, had she known who Lazarus himself was. They'd left promptly after the service, merely placing a hand on the casket as they exited the building to pay their respects to James.

The other funeral was the sadder affair. A much less stately funeral home. No family, no friends, just Jay. This place had been picked because they were directly contracted with the city to work with unclaimed bodies and crime-related deaths, at no cost to families. They'd cremated him and a simple tin box sat on a table at the center of the room. Lazarus held Jay close in those moments and let him cry for as long as he needed.

After the will readings, which Lazarus attended as Jay's guardian, proved equally ugly. There was a trust fund for Jay, but James' wife planned to contest him receiving it. Jay's other father had no other relatives and some small assets, but the money was mostly gone. It was then that Lazarus realized the likely source of tension that had led to the deaths.

The money available to Jay was not enough to cover his tuition. Lazarus raced into action digging into Thorpe's scholarship fund for disadvantaged students. Under no circumstances was Jay going to be forced to leave Thorpe Academy on his watch. Having these papers in order proved critical during the court sessions that followed in the weeks after, allowing Lazarus Barnes to become an official guardian of James Colridge IV until his 18th birthday, a mere six months away, during his final year of high school.

Jay was fragile on his return to school and the faculty treated him gently, but it was around this time that Lazarus noticed Jay working on a manuscript at a fever pitch during their sessions, now changed back to weekly again. On inquiry, Jay claimed it wasn't ready to be seen yet and that Lazarus would be the first person to read it when it was done. Lazarus waited, and waited, and waited, not wanting to push Jay in fear of breaking him.

It was the week before graduation when Jay dropped a copy of the manuscript off at his desk. Lazarus read the entire thing cover-to-cover in ten hours, alternately blushing, gasping and pausing to collect himself the entire time.

His student had written an epic love poem. Or a bildungsroman in the form of a love poem, more accurately, starring characters that were clearly stand-ins for Jay and Lazarus. With intense devotion to meter and syntactical choice, the thing was almost certainly publishable in its current state, albeit perhaps slightly on the bawdy side. Lazarus was particularly struck by odd parallels to his own experiences of pleasure with dearly departed James, though the details were blurred enough from reality that it seemed merely a coincidence for Jay to be a lover like his father.

Lazarus was unsure how to proceed. His next session with Jay was scheduled for the day after he'd finished reading. Jay was eighteen. He no longer had legal guardianship.

Jay was forceful, when the meeting began. He claimed the manuscript had stated his feelings quite plainly and he'd accosted the older man for a kiss that had at first been rejected. It was inappropriate, Lazarus argued. Jay persisted, stating that he'd known Lazarus was going to be his conquest for years and that the emotional intimacy he'd felt with Lazarus was deeper than he'd ever felt with another person in his life. Still, Lazarus denied his advance, saying Jay was projecting due to his emotionally unstable state after the death of his fathers. It continued as such.

The battle raged on and somehow, Jay won. Lazarus ran out of excuses and then ran out of clothes as Jay bent him over the desk in the headmaster's office and the two bodies became one. As they entwined, Lazarus' only conscious thought was that Jay was so, so much like James.

It had been the surprise of a lifetime when Lazarus discovered he was expecting, a few months later. Jay had moved in for the summer while waiting to begin college and was the first one to notice that Lazarus was gaining weight during their many naked nights together. The suggestion that it was a result of pregnancy had been a joke on Jay's part, until a slack look came over Lazarus' face and he informed Jay that he was part of the 15% of the worldwide male population that never undergo manopause. The possibility was remote, but...

They'd quickly gotten their answer. Lazarus insisted that Jay still go to college, even though it was going to be a multi-hour drive away. They'd fought, they'd made up, and Lazarus got his way. Of course, now there was just the small issue of the baby conceived by a headmaster and his student, likely while the student was still in school, albeit over the age of majority. Together, they'd merely decided to stay tight-lipped.

And so the day found Lazarus in his office, six months pregnant and quite visibly so. The older students were starting to mutter in the halls. Staff whispered just as much. He hadn't told anyone yet, but it wasn't going to last.

At least Jay was happy, living his life at college. He'd emailed earlier that morning with a revision of his manuscript. It had previously ended with the two lovers finally coming together as one and having a lasting love, but this new section had twelve new pages of fairly detailed erotic passages about how the younger man impregnates his older lover five times over and begets five perfect spawns that the lovers live to eventually see be just as fruitful.

He got the hint.

#mpreg belly #mpregnancy #mpreg #male pregnancy #pregnant man #pregnant guy #mpreg story

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strangebiology · 3 months ago

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Science Journalism / Writing / Communication Master's Programs 2025 Guide

I did an MS in Science Journalism, and I did a lot of research into them, so here is an updated basic guide. If you're interested, check them out and put their application dates on your calendar. Apply to multiple so you can play their scholarships against each other. That's very important--it could mean the difference between a lifetime of intense financial pressure under building compound interest, and being wealthy enough to own a house! Just for a few emails of negotiations!

Green=FREE! Free ≠ easy or standardless! In fact, free programs can be even harder to get into!

Science Communication MS *NEW!* Location: Hochschule Ansbach in Germany (All classes in English) Price: Tuition-Free! Even for International students! Length: 3 semesters

Science Writing Master's *BEST IMO!* Location: MIT in Cambridge (near Boston) Price: They PAY YOU to go! I've heard the average student profits $40k by going! (Which, of course, will go to living expenses for the year.) Length: 2 semesters (Full disclosure: I didn't go here, but you could say I'm biased in favor of MIT because they're publishing my book. That said, I already believed this was the best program when I saw they pay you to go. Also, MIT is a pretty respectable institution.)

Science Communication Master's Location: UCSC in California Price: $15k for CA residents, $30k for out-of-state. Might be worth living in CA for a year or establishing residence some other way for the discount. (More details) Length: 3 quarters (similar to 2 semesters, roughly a school year)

Science Journalism Master Classes (non-credit) Location: Remote online Price: Free! Thanks to the Kavli Foundation Length: Flexible Note: This one is without any sort of application process, so yes you can do it without experience or quitting your job or moving! The rest are full-time, selective, more traditional mostly in-person programs.

Science Writing MA Location: Remote online via Johns Hopkins University Price: They won't say Length: 16-36 months

Science, Health, and Environmental Reporting Location: NYU in New York Price: They won't say, but I think something like $50k-$100k Length: 3 semesters

Science Journalism MS Location: Boston University Price: $65k Length: 1 Year (Doesn't matter, it doesn't exist anymore. This is the one I attended.) More that I haven't looked into! NOTE: All of these have scholarship options so their prices may actually differ. That's why you should apply to more than one. However I really appreciate that some are free for all students that get in, so you don't have to worry.

#science journalism #science communication #higher education #Master's programs #MS

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fab-ernathy · 2 months ago

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a half fleshed out papenathy soulmate au

the concept: every year on your birthday, starting at age 8, you have a dream where you learn something about your soulmate, that's at least true as of the time you meet them. it's different for every person what you learn each year, but on your 21st birthday, you find out their name.

Francis

Francis' first dream is the knowledge that his soulmate is a boy, and from the start he recognised that he would have to keep a lot of things secret. Next he dreamed of a bland town with nothing but a hot climate and bad memories. Then, the flavour of yellow cake and jarred chocolate frosting. Something about English class. A safe, stable feeling, one of being known and loved anyway. He dreamed of hands in his hair and a head on his chest. An aching longing for the aesthetically pleasing, willing to do just about anything for it. A confused, slightly horrified, "What?" to something he said, though he can't remember what prompted it. His soulmate is a liar. A side profile silhouette. He senses a father's disappointment. An ordinary life, so different from his own. The snipping of nail scissors on hair. Knowing, deep in his chest, that he will meet him in the next year.

Francis' 21st birthday falls just 10 days before they kill Bunny. He could tell that this was coming; he noticed Richard and could recognise that, if he wasn't his soulmate, he at least bore a striking resemblance to him. The trouble was that he never showed any indication that he was even into men. It's not like he hadn't tried, that day on the lake. What is he even supposed to do with a soulmate who won't even admit his attraction to him? So he pushes harder, kisses him, tells him it'll be fun.

And he gets told that really, Richard isn't attracted to him. (Maybe he's broken. Maybe this is one of those times where it's not mutual. Oh God, what is he going to do?)

He resigns himself to the uncertainty and waits.

Richard

Richard dreams first of red hair. Then just a colour - red, but not the same as last year, a deep wine. The smell of cigarettes, which before he hated, but now he knew the girl he was destined to love smelled like them, he learned to appreciate. Next a burst of laughter, raspy and light at the same time ("So," he thought, "guess she smokes a lot, if her voice is that deep"). Eyes that seemed to change from blue to grey to green to hazel under different lights. A frantic, yet lazy energy. Soft, bony hands that fidgeted and shook but were held with such grace. Some vague figure stalking across a field, gothic buildings in the background. Handwriting: "Forgive me," He dreamt he felt an absolute emptiness and devastation over things that usually wouldn't bother him. Whispers in French, Latin, Greek (Should he study Greek?). How a narrow waist feels under his hands. A sense that they've already met.

After the events of the previous year, Richard expects to see Francis maybe a handful of times ever. But when he wakes up with a start on his birthday, the only thing he can think to do is get to Boston ASAP. He doesn't even get properly dressed, just pulling on whatever's scattered on the floor, and practically dives into Henry's (well, his now) car. About 4 hours later, he's at the address he'd been sending letters to for the past few months, knocking rapidly. Someone answers, but it isn't him. Clearly, though, it's the right house, because the woman at the door looks like a relative.

"Is Francis here?"

"Who's this?"

"Please, I need to talk to him."

At that moment, Francis comes up from behind him. "Richard?"

He turns, hair and eyes wild, "It's you." His voice is barely above a whisper.

Francis nervously glances at the door, clears his throat, and takes Richard by the upper arm, "Let's take a walk."

When they're out of sight of the house, Richard can't help himself; he flings his arms around his friend, his... he would hesitate to say lover just yet, but that's what this is, right? Love? Some kind of gnawing feeling that's been brewing since he was 8, this thing he's never let himself name when it came to them. He runs his fingers through the hair at Francis' nape, presses his nose into the crook of his neck.

#the secret history #tsh #francis abernathy #richard papen #papenathy

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luvangelbreak · 1 year ago

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Deprived

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: none? word count: 1.2k a/n: hi!! this is my first fanfic on here so im still getting used to the tumbler format but this will be a series. pls lmk ur thoughts or feelings or concerns or all of the above <3

pov: third person

Layla walked down the busy hallway, making a B-line for her locker that was further away than she needed it to be. She didn't want to be at school any more than she had to. The only reason she still went was to ensure she didn't get expelled for her attendance or lack thereof. Her shoulders were slouched as she pushed through the busy narrow hallway, her peers rushing to their classes.

The bleached blonde girl didn't care if she was late to her English class, it was the easiest class for her to pass even if she wasn't there. As the hallway started to filter out, she reached her locker and quickly punched in the numbers on her padlock. She swung the door open lazily, regretting her choice of rolling out of bed already but knew she might as well follow through with her choice now that she was here.

After throwing her bag into the locker, sliding her phone into the pocket of her black sweatpants that matched the black hoodie she wore. As she always did, she had her black leather jacket over the top since the cold Boston air seeped into her hoodie easily. She left her headphone in, grabbing her books for English even though she knew she would barely use them. She slammed her locker closed, easily heading to her English class now that no one was in the hallways.

She reached the closed door that was her class, swinging the door open and instantly felt the eyes of her peers bore into her. She closed the door, her teacher giving her an unsatisfied look but clearly not surprised.

"Layla, you're late," her teacher stated the obvious and Layla resisted the urge to roll her eyes, hearing that sentence at least twice a day.

"I'm aware," she replied blandly, earning a scowl from her teacher.

"Take a seat," Miss Piler demanded and Layla didn't respond as she slid through the students, eyes pouring into her. She brushed their looks off, being used to it by now, "And take your hood off."

Miss P glared at Layla as she sat down in the back left of the classroom. With a sigh, she slid the hood off of her head, her hair still covering the headphone that was playing music at full volume in her ear. The lesson continued as per usual but Layla could feel someone looking at her as she stared at the wall blankly.

She turned her head to the right to see a pair of blue eyes staring at her from across the room. She instantly recognised the cocky smirk that was plastered on the brown-haired boy's face, rolling her eyes as she looked back to the wall in front of her.

"What are you looking at dude?" Chris whispered to his brother who was looking to his left before he spun around to face Chris again.

"What?" Matt whispered back and Chris leaned back, looking over his brother's shoulder at what he was looking at, realising he was looking at Layla.

"Why were you staring at her?" Chris questioned, keeping his voice low so that the teacher wouldn't scold them. Matt shrugged, a smirk still on his face as he looked back to whatever the teacher was writing on the whiteboard, hardly paying attention.

"Was just looking," Matt mumbled back, giving a vague answer. He heard all the rumours about Layla, how much bad news she was. He also heard all the rumours about himself, all of the lies that people conjured up to make him seem better than he was. He wondered if it was the same situation with Layla, if the rumours about her were lies people made up to make her seem worse than she was.

The rest of the class, his mind wandered to all the things he had heard about her, realising that he never paid much mind to her. That wasn't unusual for him, he never paid much mind to most people except his immediate friend group.

Layla sat in the corner, drumming her fingers against her desk to the beat of the songs that played in her ears as she scribbled random doodles on her paper. Since English was the one subject she found came to her easily, she spent it daydreaming. She wondered why Matt was staring at her, he had never paid any mind to her before.

She didn't want to let it bother her, people stared at her all the time at school. But for the most loved guy in the school to be staring at her, it felt weird. He only paid attention to his friends on his hockey team and the cheerleaders that were always neat and tidy with their hair and makeup done pristinely, their outfits put together and a tad bit revealing but never enough to get dress coded.

Before she knew it the bell rang loudly through the school, interrupting her thoughts and students lept out of their chairs, desperate to talk to their friends in the hallway before their next class. Layla followed behind her peers, always being the last one to leave the room and the last one to enter.

After doing her routine of trudging her way back to her locker, grabbing more books she needed for her next class and being told she was late, again, she realised she would have to continue this cycle until her lunch break which was at 5th period.

+++

Layla had finally made it to her lunch break without leaving the school and she decided that she would give up on her last classes of the day, her brain already half-fried from the math and social studies classes she had just endured. She pulled her bag out from her locker, throwing the heaping pile of math books back into her locker with a groan. She suddenly felt a presence next to her and she looked to her left to see none other than Matthew Sturniolo.

"Hi," he beamed at her, leaning against the locker beside hers as he crossed his arms, his letterman jacket rustling as he did so, "I'm Matt."

"I know," she blandly replied as she started placing the books that she needed to take home into her bag.

"You're Layla, right?" he asked, earning nothing but a quick glance at him from her deep brown eyes, "I don't think we've ever actually talked."

"I wonder why," she mumbled sarcastically, only driving Matt to talk to her more. She observed him from her peripheral vision, taking note of his brand new blue jeans and white air forces.

"What class do you have after this?" he asked, clearly wanting to keep the one-sided conversation going that she had no interest in. She slid the bag onto her shoulder, sliding her hood back on.

"None," the quick reply from her didn't stop the dark-haired boy's attempts to talk to her further.

"What do you mean?" he asked, pure confusion on his face as she slammed her locker closed, turning to face him with a deadpan look.

"As in, I'm leaving," she spoke slowly as if she were speaking to a child and Matt nodded, biting his lip so he could think of something to say before she left.

"Mind if I come with?" he asked hopefully and she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

Not thinking he was serious, she replied with, "Knock yourself out."

She began walking down the hallway, hearing the rattle of lockers behind her as she walked towards the exit with her squeaky old white high-top converses. By the time she reached the door, she heard a pair of footsteps jogging down the hallway and she turned around to see Matt holding his backpack on one shoulder with a smile still on his face. With a roll of her eyes, she opened the door and he followed behind her shortly.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo

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vickytaa · 9 months ago

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Those Blue Eyes"

Summary: Y/n, who is 15 years old, moves to Boston. As an exchange student in a new school, where she doesn't know anyone, she meets him. What happens when those blue eyes make you unable to breathe?

An: My first language is not English. This is my first Pic, please let me know if you liked it.

☆☆☆

I'm hugging my parents while tears come across my cheeks. It's been a tough decision to make, leaving my friends and family behind just to make my dreams come true.

I look up my parents, both so sad that I am going to another country, and then at Jess, my cousin who lives in Boston, where I am going to study. She was the one who was going to accompany me all the trip.

The flight was normal, when we arrived I saw my aunt running towards me with her arms wide open.

It was the first time I met her personally, I've known her for a long time and we had such a beautiful connection, she was like a sister to me.

We hugged together for a long time, and then we went to my new home.

Later that day, I was lying in my bedroom thinking how hard it would be tomorrow, the first day of school.

I didn't know anybody, and meeting new people has always been very difficult for me. I tried to get some sleep, but my thoughts of 100 ways to be humiliated in my new school decided not to leave my mind.

6:30 am

My aunt woke up me with a really big breakfast, I'am so thankful to have her in my life.

"Hey there, princess, it's the first day of school. How do you feel? Are you excited?" She said. "Yepp, so much. Thanks for the breakfast. It looks so yummy."

I step out of the bed as I get dressed. Looking at the mirror, I see Jess's reflection, staring at me with a small smile on her face.

"You will be ok. There's nothing to worry about. You will make tons of friends, just.. be yourself." My face starts to look less worried because of her comment. "Thanks, also, do you know anything about the school sports? Are there any available?" I asked.

Since I was a child I always liked every sport, but my favorite has been volleyball, so I thought maybe if I could practice here, I might get to know my teammates and became friends with them.

"Yes, there are tons, soccer, volleyball, basquet and swimming. You can ask to join the team in the physical education department." She says. "That will be great!" I smile at her.

☆

When I arrived at school, I could see everybody with their friends group, I knew it would be complicated.

I never had problems with my grades, I was actually pretty good in all subjects.

When I entered the classroom, a beautiful brunette boy caught my attention. I tried to hide my face and sat at my desk.

The teacher started to talk, but my mind was in clouds. "Who is he?" I thought.

But something brought me back to reality. It's was a copy of the brunette guy. It might be his brother or cousin.

"Heyy, y/n, right? It's nice to meet you, my name is Nick, Nick sturniolo." He said. "Nice to meet you too." I smile at his. "Do you mind doing the teachers' project with us? I thought it would be nice to get to know you. You seem like a good friend, " Nick says. My cheeks were starting to get pink, "You seem like a good friend." he is so sweet. "Aw, that'd be great, but what do you mean by 'us'?" I asked. "My brothers and I, we are triplets."

"THERE ARE THREE OF THEM?" I thought. "They are Chris and Matt." While he points at them. Chris greets me. " Hii, my name is Y/n. " Smiling while I see Matt, whose eyes were anywhere but me. He looked annoyed.

☆

Later on, science class ends, and Nick comes at me and asks for my number, so we could meet to make the project.

I thought it would be way more difficult to make friends, but I was wrong.

When my other classes ended, I walked towards the physical education department to ask if I could join their volleyball team.

"Yes, sure! Can you remember me your name, please?" The secretary asked. "Y/n, Y/l/n".

☆

While I was getting out, I saw him. I thought I couldn't breathe. Why does this happen? I literally just met him. I don't even know him. And he also so asshole, he doesn't care about anyone.

"Can you...

☆☆☆

What will happen next?

_______________________________________

an: HEEEYYYY!! it's my first story, and I am very happy :))). I really hope you like this, let me know what you think.

part 2

#chris x reader #the sturniolos #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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sansaorgana · 5 months ago

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— REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD

🚨 This fanfic is a repost from 06 May 2022 from my different blog. I kept the Author's Note and everything from the fic the same as it was back then.

PAIRING — Jack Nelson x Lesley Macmillan (OC)

SUMMARY — Lesley wants to solve the mystery of her older brother’s death with the help of her gangster husband Jack Nelson.

AUTHOR’S NOTE [06 May 2022] — This fic wouldn’t be posted if not for @zablife and @ celticmelody ! Thank you both so much! I clearly focused on the plot here and it’s long enough already... It’s canon compilant and a fictional explanation of the whole plot with Gina, Michael and Jack wanting to kill Tommy.

WARNINGS — suicide (like in canon), murder

WORD COUNT — 5,790

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD

NEW YORK, 1920

Lesley Macmillan was born in 1898 in Poughkeepsie in the most ordinary family living on the most ordinary American street. They weren’t struggling with poverty but no one would call them rich either and they sometimes had trouble with finding money at the end of the month.

When she was a few years old her older brother Clive moved to New York – such a big city was giving many more opportunities in life. He was smart and intelligent but also very kind, which charmed other people. This way he quickly earned a small fortune as a banker.

Lesley wasn’t close with her brother because they grew up separately but she held great love and admiration for him in her heart. When she graduated from high school he started to send her money so she could attend typing classes and get prepared to become a secretary. After she had finished her course, Clive took her to New York and found her a job on Wall Street as a secretary of Robert Wallace – his friend and a successful broker. Lesley’s parents secretly hoped she would end up married to him but that didn’t happen. They went on a few dinner dates together but they decided to remain friends.

Lesley was nineteen when she moved to New York and at first she lived with her brother but she soon grew tired of it and he left her his flat after he had moved to the small house in the suburbs. Lesley prefered the city center where she had found female friends amongst other secretaries with whom she liked to go to the pictures or the jazz clubs.

In 1920 she was twenty two years old and she already felt like a natural born New Yorker. That was also the year of her brother’s wedding with Grace Burgess.

Grace came from Ireland. She was rich, beautiful, thin, cold and she never wanted to talk about her past. Lesley tried to befriend her but Grace’s kindness felt forced, meanwhile her physical beauty was making Lesley feel very insecure. She wasn’t thin, her hair was brown like her brother’s and she didn’t know as many fancy things as Grace. Her brother’s wife had been an only child so she didn’t understand the bond between Clive and Lesley and she was often jealous of him spending time with his little sister. Lesley felt neglected these days.

“You’re incredibly slow today, Lesley,” Robert’s voice made her look up as she realized she had been chewing on a pen for the past few minutes. “What are you, in love?”

“Oh, Bobby!” she giggled. “Me? In love? You know perfectly well that it’s not so easy for me to fall in love!”

“What is it then?”

“I was thinking of my brother’s new wife,” she sighed but Robert’s eyes sparkled.

“Oh, yes, I think of her, too, sometimes. What a sight she is…” he rubbed his hands together and Lesley winced at that. “They don’t make them like that here.”

“What do you mean by that?!” Lesley squealed.

“Oh, nothing personal. American women just don’t have class!”

“Class?! Look at you, Robert Wallace!” Lesley huffed. “You think you have class?”

He swallowed thickly and fixed his tie before rolling his eyes at his secretary. If it hadn’t been for Clive, he would have probably fired her already.

“Either way, I have a meeting with an important guest from Boston today and you haven’t even prepared coffee yet,” he pointed out.

“At your service,” Lesley stood up and walked up to the coffee machine while Robert disappeared into his personal office.

She was pissed at him for reacting this way at her mentioning Grace. She hated how everyone seemed to love her husband’s new wife but some of them did only because she was coming from Europe.

Lesley was in the middle of pouring coffee into the cup when someone opened the door rapidly and she turned around to scold whoever that was.

“Have you lost your mind, sir?!” she snapped at the tall, dark blond man who had just entered the office. “This is an office, not a barn!”

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” he rolled his eyes and smirked as she noticed a scar on his lip. “I have a meeting with Mr. Wallace,” he added in a strong Boston accent.

“I believe he’s mentioned,” Lesley fixed her cardigan and pointed at the cup of coffee. “You want one, too?”

“Would be delightful, doll,” he answered and she blushed a little at that before turning around to pour some more coffee.

“Ah!” Robert opened the door. “Mr. Nelson, yes?”

“Yes, Mr. Wallace,” they shook hands. “I am here for my boss, he stayed in Boston, he’s busy.”

“Yes, of course. He has telephoned me already. Please, come in. Lesley!”

“Bobby?” Lesley sighed.

“Bring us coffee to the office.”

“Yes, sir.”

NEW YORK, 1921

Mr. Nelson’s name was Jack and he was visiting Robert quite often while dealing with business for his boss in Boston. He was ten years older than Lesley and he was flirting with her every time for a few long weeks before he eventually asked her out. Lesley was surprised by that because she didn’t expect him to seriously like her but her sassy tongue and soft curves hidden under tight skirts had bewitched Mr. Nelson completely.

He spent New Year’s Eve in New York at the jazz club with Lesley and that was when they shared their very first kiss.

“I don’t like your new friend,” Clive winced at the dinner.

“What are you talking about?” Lesley looked up and so did Grace. She didn’t like those days when her husband’s sister was coming over for dinner so she watched them interact closely to later pick up on Lesley’s mannerisms and whine to Clive about them.

“I mean that gangster Nelson. You’re one of those silly girls now, Lesley? Dating gangsters for fun?” Clive sipped on his whiskey and gave her a scolding look as Grace moved uncomfortably.

“How dare you!” she gasped. Of course she had known about Jack’s profession but it didn’t matter to her. “He is such a gentleman around me, Clive!”

“Ah, yes. After all, you started to attend the masses for him again, am I right?” her brother teased. “He’s a Catholic like our mother but you haven’t been to church in years now, my dear sister. But I’ve heard you are going to the mass every Sunday now.”

“There is nothing wrong with being religious just because our father hates it, Clive,” Lesley rolled her eyes.

“Of course it is not,” he hummed to himself and snorted, “but how can he do all these things and still pray to God? Doesn’t it sound quite hypocritical to you? You know that our parents count on you meeting a nice man here in New York and settling down with him.”

“Girls don’t like nice men these days,” Grace commented suddenly and Lesley gritted her teeth.

“Well, I consider Jack to be nice,” she emphasized. “He buys me flowers, takes me to the pictures and he doesn’t want anything more from me than a kiss.”

“He better not!” Clive almost choked on his food as his face went red. "I would even say that the kiss is too much!"

“Clive, he comes to visit me all the way from Boston every few days. That says enough, don’t you think?” Lesley sighed.

“How did he get that scar, by the way?” Clive raised an eyebrow.

“I haven’t asked about that,” Lesley lied. “I don’t ask him about his business. I am not a copper,” she laughed and so did Clive. Grace wiped the corners of her mouth elegantly with a napkin and pursed her lips.

“I want to meet him, Lesley,” Clive cleared his throat. “Bring him over next time.”

Lesley greeted Jack by the door of her apartment and watched him take off his hat and coat before they went to the living room and sat down on the sofa.

“How was the drive?” Lesley’s manicured hand played with his tie as he furrowed his brow.

“It was good. You’re painting your nails now, doll?” Jack didn’t sound impressed.

“I’m sorry, you don’t like it?” Lesley blushed and took the hand away while looking down.

“Hey, hey….” he grabbed her hand and placed a soft kiss upon it.

“I’m sorry, I’ll wash it off,” Lesley stood up and shook her head. “I was so silly, I’m sorry… I wasn’t at church like that so don’t you think…”

“Easy, babe,” Jack chuckled at her nervousness. “I know you’re a good girl.”

“I just wanted to have nails like her…”

“Like who?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Some actress?”

“No, Clive’s wife. Grace,” Lesley leaned back on the cabinet by the wall and sighed. “We are both invited to dinner at their place, you know. My brother wants to meet you.”

“Well, you know I’d love to,” Jack smirked and spread his legs further in a lazy manner. “What do you think he’s gonna talk to me about?”

“I think he wants to know if you’re serious about me,” Lesley bit her lower lip.

“Then, my intent will be to convince him that I damn am,” Jack winked at her and beckoned her over. “Come ‘ere, doll.”

She chuckled and approached him slowly to hold his hands and sit down on his lap. Jack pulled her closer and Lesley cupped his face.

“You’re gonna love her, too, I guess…” she sighed.

“Who?”

“Grace… All men love her,” Lesley rolled her eyes.

“Why do they?” Jack patted Lesley’s bottom playfully.

“You’ll see her and you’ll know. Oh… She’s also Irish like you…” Lesley saddened.

“Is she?”

“She’s from Galway or something,” Lesley shrugged her arms. “She’s a protestant but she’s Irish.”

“She’s a rich protestant?” Jack snorted and she furrowed her brow. “Doll, I am convinced I will fucking hate her.”

“Is it bad that it makes me happy?” Lesley giggled and Jack’s eyes warmed up at the sight as he raised his hand to fix her hair.

“No, baby, nothing that makes you happy is ever bad.”

NEW YORK, 2022

Jack got promoted in Boston – whatever it meant – and now he was carrying himself like the boss himself. Lesley didn’t mind that at all and actually she had gotten influenced with her boyfriend’s confidence and new money. He kept visiting her from Boston but nowadays she wasn’t working for Robert Wallace anymore. She now worked for Peter McCarthy who was dealing with Jack’s legal side of business in New York.

Clive wasn’t fond of his sister’s boyfriend but he didn’t hate him either. He could see that Jack was a proper gentleman around Lesley. On several occasions Jack had been assuring Clive that his sister would never be involved in any of the illegal businesses of his and he sounded very serious and concerned about the matter.

Jack and Lesley were often being invited to Clive and Grace’s house for dinners but Mrs. Macmillan never looked like she wanted to be a part of those. She still disliked Lesley – especially the brand new Lesley in expensive furs and with diamond rings on her fingers. She looked like a gangster’s chick from miles away and Grace found it cheap.

Jack didn’t like Grace either from the very start. He looked up and down with a contemptuous smirk and made a comment about “skin, bone and arrogance” a few times during the first visit. But after finding out about her father being loyal to the King of England and killed by the IRA, he started to literally hate her.

It was no wonder then why Grace didn’t like those “family dinners” the most out of them all.

“We also have to tell you something,” Clive cleared his throat after finishing his dessert as Lesley furrowed her brows. “We are going away to London for a few weeks.”

“London?!” Lesley’s eyes widened. “Goodness! What for?”

“There’s a doctor we want to see,” Clive held Grace’s hand on the table and she clenched her jaw as she didn’t want this matter to be discussed around Jack Nelson.

“What doctor?” Lesley’s cheeks became pale. “Are any of you sick?”

“No, my dear sister, no need to worry,” Clive chuckled nervously. “It’s just some brand new, experimental treatment we want to try.”

“What treatment?” Jack asked curiously and sipped on his whiskey as Grace gave him an unpleasant look.

“It’s to cure…” Clive hesitated for a moment, “...infertility.”

Lesley froze at first with a piece of cake still in her mouth. Then she swallowed it thickly and could swear that she felt like she was getting dizzy. She suddenly got angry at Clive as much as his wife for saying this out loud in Jack’s presence. She couldn’t let Jack think that her brother might have been infertile… Which only meant that she could be, too…

“Oh!” she placed another piece of cake on her plate nervously. “Well, Grace, my dear,” she cooed in a fake manner. “I am so sorry…”

“The doctor is not sure yet if it is because of me,” Grace drawled out, which made Lesley even angrier.

“Well, you know what it’s like. Skinny women always have problems with that,” Lesley stuffed her mouth with even more cake and pointed at Grace’s figure with her fork. “I’d recommend eating more instead of trying some funny London therapies.”

Grace stood up angrily and left the dining room as Clive gave his sister an angry look before following his wife.

“I’m sure it’s her fault,” Lesley told Jack quickly and he nodded silently before finishing his glass of whiskey. “Skin and bone, like you said,” she added nervously.

Those few weeks had passed very quickly. Lesley was a bit worried because her brother stopped calling her after two but Jack said he had been probably too busy with the whole therapy thing and his wife. Lesley chose to believe that and focused on her work.

On the day when Clive and Grace were supposed to come back, Jack and Lesley were waiting to pick them up. She was standing with her hands around his waist under his coat and holding him close with a dreamy expression.

“I would love to see Europe one day, too…” she sighed.

“We will, doll,” Jack answered casually as Lesley’s heart swell in her chest at his words. She blushed and squeezed him tighter.

Jack raised an eyebrow at that but he got interrupted by the sight of Clive walking towards them. Not only was he alone but he also looked like he had been to hell and back – with huge dark circles under his eyes and clothes a size too big because he had lost so much weight.

Lesley turned around and her jaw dropped.

“Clive!” She ran up to him and hugged him carefully like she was scared to break him. “Are you alright? What happened? How was the therapy? Why weren’t you calling? Where’s Grace?”

“Lesley, not here,” Jack hissed and put his arm around her. “Let’s take him home first.”

Clive didn’t answer, he only blinked a few times and held his sister’s hand. She led him to Jack’s car and sat with him in the backseat.

“Darling! What happened? Please, talk to me…” Lesley was on the verge of tears herself.

“Where’s that wife of yours, Clive?” Jack asked after starting the car.

“Grace stayed in Great Britain and that’s where she will stay from now on,” Clive answered mysteriously.

“And… And the treatment?” Lesley furrowed her brow.

“Didn’t work,” Clive turned his head around like he didn’t want her to see tears forming in his eyes.

“Oh, Clive, love, it’s not your fault…” Lesley started.

“Shut up already!” he snapped and she closed her mouth as Jack moved uncomfortably on his seat but he couldn’t intervene – Lesley was Clive’s younger sister and he had no right to scold him for raising his voice at her.

The rest of the ride was silent. They left Clive at his place and he didn’t even invite them over.

BOSTON / NEW YORK, 1922

It was a few weeks later when it happened. A few weeks of Lesley being worried about her brother’s odd behavior and Jack trying to convince her it would eventually get better.

He entered his small office in Boston and his secretary greeted him with pursed lips.

“What’s wrong, Mary?” he asked.

“I’ve left a newspaper on your desk, sir,” she answered and Jack hurried there. “Fifth page!” she added.

He opened the newspaper and found the said page. The very first thing he saw was Clive Macmillan’s picture. Ominous words were saying “Rich banker was found dead at home”.

Jack didn’t even read the article, he reached for the telephone and asked to connect him with Lesley’s apartment but she wasn’t answering.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. “Mary, I’m leaving. I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he announced and she furrowed her brow.

“But… Mr. Nelson…!”

“It’s a family matter,” he pointed his finger at her and ran down the stairs to his car.

It was evening when he arrived in New York and Lesley opened the door still in her nightgown with her face swollen from tears. Jack cupped her cheeks immediately and pulled her closer.

“You didn’t answer the phone, doll, I was worried,” he kissed her. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“Come in, Jack,” she sniffled and walked inside as he followed her and closed the door.

“What happened?”

“It took place at night,” Lesley sat down in the armchair and took a deep breath in, trying to be brave. “He shot himself. And now… Now…” her voice broke. “Now my brother is dead,” she burst into tears and Jack approached her to crouch down and put his arms around her.

“I’m so sorry…” he said again and swallowed thickly. “Did he leave any message?”

“No,” she shook her head. “But his maid says that last evening he received a phone call from London… From the hotel where he had been staying at with Grace…”

“Do you think it has something to do with her?” Jack asked.

“I don’t know… I don’t know anything…” Lesley shook her head dramatically. “Oh, Jack, why did he do that…? I loved him, I loved him so much and now he’s not here anymore…?”

Jack lost a brother and sister once. He knew what Lesley had been going through and he knew that nothing could really heal her heart except for time. He held her closer and kissed the top of her head.

“What will you do now?” he asked in a whisper.

“I’m going back home. I want to spend some time with my family,” she told him and he nodded. “Then… I’m not sure. I know I work for you here but I don’t know yet if I’d want to come back to New York, Jack…”

“It’s alright, doll, don’t think about it,” he wiped her wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Would you like Boston?”

“B-Boston?” she raised her eyebrow.

“It’s closer to Poughkeepsie,” he explained.

“But what would I do in Boston? Work for you?” She made puppy eyes filled with fresh tears.

“No, not work, doll,” Jack shook his head and smiled softly. “I’ll take you to your parents tomorrow, alright? I’ll drive you there myself.”

“Oh, Jack, you don’t have to!” Lesley gasped and clutched onto his jacket.

“And when we arrive there, I’m gonna ask them for their permission to marry you. Alright, doll?” he asked seriously.

He couldn’t leave Lesley Macmillan alone now. He had to take care of his girl.

“Oh… Oh, you’re serious, Jack?” her eyes widened and he nodded. “Oh, baby!” she pressed her cheek to his chest and cried some more. He caressed the back of her head.

“We’re gonna find out what happened to Clive, I promise,” he added.

“Jack…” Lesley looked up and he furrowed his brow. “If he’s dead because of someone else’s harm done to him… Please, promise me that we will avenge him…”

Jack made a surprised face at those words. Lesley had never mentioned his profession or anything related to it before.

“We will, doll,” he assured her. “But we don’t talk about it out loud like that, yes?”

“Yes, Jack, I’m sorry.”

BOSTON, 1922

Jack hired a private detective who would solve the mystery of Clive’s death. Not only did he want his new wife to finally be in peace but he was also curious himself.

Now she was decorating a Christmas Tree for their first Christmas spent together as the married couple.

“Be careful there, doll,” Jack approached her from behind when she was standing on the stool. He put his arms around her waist and caressed her belly where their first child had been growing.

“I am careful, Jack,” Lesley sighed. “But I’d love your help, you’re taller than me,” she handed him a few decorations and he nodded before helping her to step down on the floor. Then he proceeded to decorate the high parts of the Christmas Tree. “How was work?” she asked him and put her hand on her abdomen protectively.

“Good,” Jack cleared his throat and she furrowed her brow.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jack sighed. “I just… Well… I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“Why? Now you must tell me!” Lesley’s eyes widened. “What is it, Jack? Are you going to jail?!” she squealed and he chuckled.

“No, doll, don’t worry ‘bout stuff like that!” He approached her to kiss her forehead. “It’s about Clive,” he explained and she gasped. “The detective visited me today.”

Lesley walked up to the sofa and sat down with a clenched jaw. Jack followed her and took a seat next to his wife’s while gently holding her hands.

“Please, don’t get nervous. It’s bad for the baby,” he said and she nodded her head silently. “When they were in London, Grace had an affair with an old lover of hers. A man with whom she had already had a past. She got pregnant with him and left Clive,” Jack explained slowly.

Lesley didn’t react at first. She was too shocked and hurt to do anything other than staring at the wall in front of them.

“She humiliated my brother,” she swallowed thickly. “She made him feel worthless. You’re a man, Jack, you tell me. What would you do?”

“Kill that guy.”

“But Clive wasn’t like you. He was… He was a good man,” Lesley’s voice broke.

“I am not?” Jack furrowed his brow. She had always been saying that in her eyes he was good and kind.

“No, you’re not,” Lesley shook her head and laid her eyes on her husband. “And I don’t want you to be,” she stated. “Who’s that man?”

“Now, that’s the best part,” Jack chuckled nervously. “That man is a fucking gangster, baby. He’s a street hoodlum from Birmingham. They had a baby boy a few weeks ago.”

“The audacity! Oh, now I am convinced that Clive didn’t kill himself. They did it to get rid of him!” Lesley stood up so rapidly that she got dizzy. Jack stood up as well and held her in place. “Jack, I can’t stand it… I can’t…”

“Can’t stand what, doll?”

“Can’t stand to live in a world where people like them are alive,” she took a deep breath in and looked at him. Her face was filled with pain and desperation. “She came here, married my brother for his money… Or just because she wanted to be a New York wife like them all, who knows… Then she used him, left him, betrayed him and humiliated him… Jack, I love you, I love you madly but…” Lesley tried to find the right words, “...but how could she fucking cheat on Clive with a man like that?! What was so bad about Clive? Don’t tell me it was about having a baby, it’s never just about a baby, I am a woman, I know it is not… Clive was just plain, you know? He was boring. But I loved him for that… They killed him just because he was too good! And I loved him for his kindness… I loved him, I lov–” she eventually burst into tears and Jack held her trembling figure close to shush her.

“Are you still sure you want to avenge him?” he whispered.

“Why would I change my mind?” Lesley furrowed her brow and sniffled.

“Because I don’t want to stain you with my sin,” he caressed her cheek gently.

“Avenging a brother is no sin, Jack,” Lesley clenched her jaw. “To me belongeth vengeance and recompence; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste,” she quoted fiercely as her eyes sparkled. “Deuteronomy, 32:35.”

“We are not God,” Jack reminded her.

“But we can get our hands dirty to do his work,” she moved away to pour herself some water as Jack watched his wife with widened eyes. “You know, that’s funny,” she chuckled nervously and sipped from the glass.

“What is, doll?” he asked awkwardly.

“Back then I would never… I would never come up with that. But since I’m going to church, it’s so much easier, you know Jack? You just find the right chapter in the Bible and you have your excuse to sleep peacefully at night.”

BOSTON, 1924

“Clive, don’t!” Lesley scolded her one year old son and grabbed him away from the fireplace. “You’re becoming such a troublemaker these days, young man,” she chuckled and the baby laughed back, warming her heart.

Their little moment got interrupted by the noises coming from Jack’s home office. He slammed his fist on the wooden surface of his desk and cursed loudly at something. Lesley rolled her eyes.

“Bad daddy,” she told her son. “He’s such a hot head, isn’t he?” she giggled and Clive giggled as well.

The telephone in Jack’s office rang again and he answered. Lesley took their child outside to the garden and started showing her son the flowers she had planted with her maid’s help a few weeks earlier.

“...and those are roses but be careful,” she pushed the little, chubby hand away. “They have thorns, my boy,” she smiled and kissed the top of the baby’s nose.

She turned around and saw Jack leaning on the wall of their house. He waved at her and she waved back before walking up to him with Clive in her arms.

“Good news, doll,” Jack smirked. “We got an opportunity.”

“What opportunity?” Lesley smiled at her husband and handed him the baby.

“To do the thing,” he answered mysteriously and disappeared inside the house.

His wife furrowed her brow. What could he possibly mean…? Did he mean avenging her brother…? Jack had always been saying that they should wait for the right moment. It was like an obnoxious mantra; being repeated over and over to the point where she stopped believing he would ever actually do anything.

She entered the house and saw their maid already walking out the room with little Clive as Jack gestured Lesley over to sit with him on the sofa.

“What’s going on, babe?” she asked and crossed her arms after sitting down.

“I have contacts in New York,” Jack lowered his voice. “The Italian Changretta family has bad blood with Thomas Shelby of Birmingham. Part of their family lives there and a few years back they lost their influence because of him. Now he and his family are disrespecting the Changrettas again with no reason. They are sick of him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It will be taken care of,” Jack nodded and squeezed her thigh. “Next week there is a huge charity party. Lots of people, chaos. Thomas and Grace Shelby will lose their lives.”

“Grace Shelby?” Lesley winced. “They’re married now?”

“Yes, they got married recently.”

“Oh, wonderful. Since my brother is dead they can get married and have their happily ever after,” Lesley commented bitterly. “Now I am convinced they killed my brother. So, it’s their honeymoon?” she smirked. “Not for long.”

“What about the child?” Jack swallowed thickly like he was scared of the answer.

“I thought you would never harm a child,” Lesley furrowed her brow.

“I would not but you are in charge of this operation, which is of course just between us two. I would never put you in trouble,” he assured his wife.

“Let the child be,” Lesley decided. “He’s cursed enough already with parents like that.”

Jack was sitting behind his desk while sipping on whiskey and smoking a cigar. Lesley was walking in circles all over his office and playing nervously with her fingers. It was afternoon for them but in Birmingham it was evening and the night of the very important charity gala.

“O Lord God, to whom vengeance belongeth; O God, to whom vengeance belongeth, shew thyself,” Lesley kept whispering to herself the words of one of the Psalms over and over, while desperately convincing herself that what they had been doing was not wrong. “Lift up thyself, thou judge of the earth: render a reward to the proud.”

For Jack it was routine but he didn’t judge his wife for her nervousness and doubts. The first man he had ever killed was a priest. He was already doomed.

The phone rang and Lesley jumped a little. Jack shook his head at her and picked up the handset.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Changrettas say fifty-fifty, boss. The Queen’s down. The King still remains.”

“Alright, thank you,” was all Jack answered to the enigmatic message and put the phone down.

“And?! And?!” Lesley squealed.

“Grace is dead. Thomas is not,” Jack shook his head and watched her face carefully.

It seemed like his wife had just gone through the whole range of emotions. From shock and anger to disbelief and excitement.

“Well, that’s both pleasant and disappointing,” she admitted and fixed her skirt nervously. “At least he’s going to be in pain for some time until we get him, yes?”

“Lesley, I’m not sure,” Jack sighed and she clenched her jaw. “What I’m saying is that it might be difficult to take him down just like that. We might need lots of patience and time. He is an important figure and after failing once we should wait longer to strike again. You understand, doll? It’s not easy to kill the boss.”

“How do you know?!” Lesley snapped.

“Because I am the boss,” he chuckled and stood up to put his arms around her. “My love, let’s celebrate the half of our victory now, yes? Revenge is a dish best served cold. We can wait,” he tried to convince her, “and while we wait he is in pain and grief that I can not even imagine,” Jack kissed the top of his wife’s head. “And I never will because I keep my wife safe.”

BOSTON, 1929

Lesley lit a cigarette as the maid put a silver tray on the table between her and Gina.

“Thank you, Maude,” Lesley smiled at the maid.

“Mrs. Nelson, Clive should be back from school soon, while Peter and Stephanie are hungry so I’ll be making dinner now.”

“That’s wonderful, Maude, thank you,” Lesley nodded at her and watched her walk away.

“So, you say that Uncle Jack is where…?” Gina rolled her big brown eyes.

“Jack’s in Washington now,” Lesley took a sip from the porcelain cup.

“Shame. I wanted to speak to him,” Gina huffed.

“About?” Lelsey raised an eyebrow.

She used to be annoyed by her husband’s nieces and nephews – always coming over, asking for favors and money. Gina was absolutely the worst. But with time – and age – Lesley learnt to take them all in with patience and even a dose of loving.

“Lesley…” Gina giggled and her aunt furrowed her brow. “Well, I’ve met someone.”

“Oh dear,” Lesley put the cup down and sighed.

“What?!”

“Jack won’t like that.”

“I know that he hates all my boyfriends,” Gina winked and Lesley rolled her eyes, “but you have to convince him about that one. Michael’s really cute.”

“Michael?” Lesley smiled. “Oh, so you can call him Mikey?”

“He actually hates that!” Gina chuckled. “He’s British, you know… Dealing with his family’s business here.”

“Oh, I see,” Lesley nodded. “British, you say? What’s his name?”

“Nothing special,” Gina shrugged her arms. “Michael Gray. He’s obsessed with me, Lesley! My every wish is his command!” she giggled devilishly. “I fucking love that!”

“Gina…” Lesley scolded her and sighed while shaking her head. “Is he a gentleman?”

“Well, he’s British. He’s short but I can live with that. And he’s handsome… Oh, so handsome…!” Gina added with a dreamy expression on her face. “Lesley, please, tell Jack to hire him!”

“For that we don’t know that boy well enough yet!” Lesley reminded her.

“Tell Jack that Michael might actually be useful. His cousin is a powerful gangster back there in Great Britain,” Gina smirked mysteriously and Lesley squinted her eyes at her.

“He’s a gangster, that Michael of yours?”

“You ask me like it’s a bad thing,” Gina huffed.

“I don’t mean that. I mean that relationships between the families are a delicate thing,” Lesley reminded her. “Gina, please, don’t do anything stupid without consulting your uncle.”

“I know!” Gina crossed her arms. “That’s why I came here but he’s not fucking home!”

“Well, Jack’s working,” Lesley cleared her throat. “I will tell him about your boyfriend the moment he arrives home.”

“Okay, good,” Gina stood up without even looking at the tea waiting for her on the tray. “I’ll be leaving then.”

“So soon?” Lesley pretended to be sad.

“Yeah, I’m meeting with my friends this evening.”

“Alright,” Lesley stood up to hug Gina goodbye.

“Oh, by the way,” the younger woman smirked as her aunt furrowed her brow, “tell uncle Jack that Michael’s cousin is named Thomas Shelby. They’re from Birmingham. Maybe he’s heard of him,” she finished innocently as Lesley froze.

“Thomas Shelby?” Lesley’s voice broke as she was trying to make sure she had heard that right.

“Yes, should I write it down for you?” Gina asked.

“No need.”

MASTERLIST

#jack nelson x oc #peaky blinders oc #lilysfiction

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ruthytwoshakes · 2 years ago

Text

Howdy everyone!! I got super inspired by @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense class swap au and wanted to try my hand at it!

I really love these designs!! If people like them too I’ll make some full refs and make some more content with them. I probably will anyway because I have so many ideas.

Under the keep reading I added wayyy too much description if you’re interested. You are interested you will read I’m using my evil mind magic to make you want to read

(I’ll address them by their names to make it less confusing btw. Pyro and Spy are called Demonan and Soldier though. I’ll name them one day probably)

For Medic and Heavy I kinda swapped their backstories and personalities. Misha is an only child who comes from a family of, fucked up to say the least, doctors. He lost his medical license for stealing the entirety of a patient’s skin. Misha is much more of a hardass with a superiority complex. Cold and callous. He takes himself and his work very seriously,, thinks he is very scary. The other mercs don’t really give a shit, which infuriates him to no end. He cares about his teammates! somewhere deep down inside ,, like really far down. Probably. Really attached to his tools, names them like how the original Heavy names his guns. He’s pretty fluent with English.

Ludwig is much more silly and caring. He’s the youngest sibling out of his 3 sisters, and took this job because he feels obligated to pay back his family for protecting him and helping him go through college. He’s not sadistic per se, more just, really loves the blood, guts, and carnage of war, and has a very morbid curiosity. He often accompanies the Medic when he's doing operations, if he's not already the patient himself. Misha adores how fascinated he is by all of it, and gladly answers and questions he may have. Very loud and extroverted,, his laughs can be heard from miles away. He kinda scares the other mercs, but he’s trying his best to tone it down. He has a horde of pigeons that just ,, follow him around. He doesn’t really know where they came from. His favorite is named Euripides. He’s intermediate at English.

For Sniper and Scout I kinda kept their backstories the same, they just had different personalities and life circumstances that led to them taking their respective jobs. Jeremy is the older brother of 7 little sisters. His mother had him when she was 16 and going through college, leading Jeremy to have to grow up fast. He and his mom have always had to pick up odd jobs to help pay the bills. One of Jeremy’s bosses took him out onto a shooting range one day and noticed he was a natural. He encouraged him to take up predator/invasive species control to help pay the bills and helped him get started, Jeremy eventually saved up enough to move to the northwest. As he got more skilled, some shady people took note and offered him some more,,, lucrative opportunities. He’s a hick with a slight Boston accent, making him all the more awkward. Pretty introverted, the only friends he's ever had is his little siblings. He’s quick-witted when he wants to be, but usually stays quiet. He seems pretty cold tough, but will change really quickly around little kids. Drinks way too many energy drinks to compensate for his insomnia.

Mick is an only child and basically the Australian version of Scout. Which is a terrifying concept!! he scares me. He’s a pretty extroverted guy, but was still bullied for his scrawny appearance and a lack of mustache hairs when he was little, so he devoted himself to becoming the best track runner in Australia. Also he couldn’t win a fight against anyone and he tended to piss off a lot of people, so running was a necessity. He doesn’t have any siblings, but he has a lot of older friends who treat him like a little brother. He likes to paint in his free time. Took the job to help support his parents and to explore the world, or just New Mexico. Annoying jock bastard. He wears those tank tops with the holes at the sides that just go all the way down,, not even a shirt at that point. Still throws piss at people because I think its really fucking funny.

Nobody quite knows where Soldier came from, not even herself. All she knows is that she’s a General, and a damn good one at that. Although his team would like to suggest otherwise. She’s loud and erratic, missing quite a few cogs in her brain. Not lead poisoned like the original soldier, I’m leaning towards a lobotomy that really melted his brain, soupe de cerveau or somethinf. Even though she lost her mind, she kept her great commanding skills and leads the team in attacks. He can be found planning and strategizing for the next round, or hanging out with the other team’s Demo. A bit silly, a bit goofy. Comically patriotic like the original Soldier. Parleys-tu Français, DO YOU SPEAK FRRRENCH ??? Non tu ne le fais pas, you don’t? FUCK YOU

Tavish and pyros personalities are a kinda combined? I just took little bits from both of them and squashed them together. Tavish is a pyromaniac hailing from Scotland. There’s rumors that he was the cause of the fire storm that rained down on Scotland for about a week, but he’s never confirmed or denied this. His voice isn’t all that muffled, his Scottish dialect is just so thick that nobody can understand him, except for Ms Pauling and Engineer like usual. Tavish can be pretty unstable and hyperactive, but an overall happy-go-lucky guy. Drinks responsibly most of the time! Still depressed! Lots of Molotov cocktails. His favorite animal is the Pegasus, and his life's goal is to find and tame one some day.

Dell is the same personality wise, just more like spy. So a bit more stuck up lol. He also shares the same care that the original spy shows for his team, as long as it benefits him along the way. Dell comes from a long family line of Spy’s that all worked for the Mann brothers, they stole Australium for them and kept them safe from other entity's that wanted to have control over the Australium too. His goggles have all that super cool spy stuff in them, night vision, cameras, a radio. Jane helped him add some new features as of late, . I'm not sure how to incorporate Dell's fascination with trans-humanism into this Dell quite yet. Maybe something to do with his senses? Name’s Spy. Spy Gaming.

Jane is pretty much the same silly little guy,, but now with 11 phds! And he’s not lead poisoned anymore! Nobody’s quite sure where Jane comes from, every time he’s asked he always changes up his backstory. He tends to slack off more than the original soldier, "A good hard-working American always knows when to take breaks!" He's also built a variety of raccoon-themed machines that get into mischief around the base. He and the Pyro are good buddies! He likes reading their stories, and gently encouraging them to write more. He's pretty strict when it comes to safety, and will come down hard on his teammates for messing around. THAT IS NOT OSHA APPROVED HEAD-WEAR MAGGOT!

Demoman is more like Tavish backstory-wise in this. They’re a midwesterner with way too much free time who blew up their family’s corn field by accident when they were little, oh and their parents. Their bio family crawled out from the remains of the farm and took them in after they proved themselves, even with their lack of tentacles and wings. (yeah their parents are the Great Old Ones, cthulhu guys, for sillies :3 ) They still like to do creative stuff (but adult-ified because adults are insecure about having fun for some reason.) like adult coloring books, or oil painting, or having adult tea parties. Demoland is a book that they're writing, and will TOTALLY 100% work on this weekend. They hate eye contact and have never been seen without their bombsuit on, except for Scout, but he can comprehend these otherworldy horrors perfectly fine so idk maybe you have a skill issue or something.

Heavy is Medic

Medic is Heavy

Sniper is Scout

Scout is Sniper

Spy is Soldier

Demoman is Pyro

Engineer is Spy

Soldier is Engineer

Pyro is Demoman

notes: I was thinking of making Dell Jeremy's father, but I didn't want to change up Jeremy's facial features too much, so Spy remains. Mick has that neck-mic thingy that soap from COD has because I was scrolling through soapghost on pintrest help. Soldier wasn't actually a general, I was thinking he was just somebody who knew too much. But after she got the lobotomy, I'm thinking she did something similar to soldier and tried to get into the military, and failed. Ludwig is the biggest on the team, with Misha having a more agile body type. Still a bear!! Just a bit smaller. This art is a bit old because I've been working on this since MAY?!?!??? ough. Maybe I'll swap some side characters as well! Pauling with Bidwell, Saxton with Helen, if ya want you could give me some suggestions 👁 👁 This is all Merasmus's fault some how, babygirl messes up the timeline for the sillies, the funny haha even. I love her <3333 Also sorry if the info for Jeremy is incorrect, I just thought it would be neat idk a whole lot about hunting.

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pub-lius · 11 months ago

Note

Why don't you have any detailed posts about Steuben smh do better

AW FUCK NO MY REPUTATION!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE THE GAY HISTORY PERSON IF I DONT HAVE A DETAILED POST ABOUT STEUBEN!!!! i have to fix this...

Early Life

Friedrich Wilhelm August Heinrich Ferdinand Baron de Steuben was born on September 17, 1730 in Prussia. He joined the Prussian army at the age of 17, so he got a real early start.

Note: I've written his name here as "Baron de Steuben", as this name is from a French record, however he is typically referred to as "Baron von Steuben", as "von" is the translation of "de" from French to Prussian, and they both mean "of" in English. I just wanted to clarify that for the sake of my own linguistically correct sanity

Steuben began his service in the French and Indian War (or Seven Years War if you're a dirty European) as a second lieutenant, and was then wounded at the Battle of Prague, a Prussian victory. Then, he joined General Johann von Mayer's adjutant and principle staff officer in a special detached corps.

Then, he was promoted to first lieutenant and wounded AGAIN at the Battle of Kunersdorf, which was a Russian and Austrian victory. He was then transferred to general headquarters as a staff officer in the position of deputy quartermaster (this is important!!).

He was taken prisoner when Major General von Knoblock surrendered at Treptow, and was released after a year in 1762. He was promoted to captain and then became an aide-de-camp to Frederick the Great, which is as metal as it gets. He joined the King's class on the art of war, where he learned even more super cool military leadership skills.

Life Between Wars

Steuben met St. Germain in Hamburg (a notoriously great place to meet people). If you aren't in the know like I clearly am, St. Germain would eventually be the French Minister of War during the American Revolution. They'd meet again in France when Steuben was serving as Grand Marshall to the Prince of Hollenzollern-Hechingen, and if that sounds made up to you, it's because you don't even know him like I do.

Steuben continued looking for military work, but those European assholes (the British, French, and Austrians) rejected my man for no good reason (probably because he was gay or something). It was during his stay in France where he heard of the rowdy Americans across the pond.

St. Germain introduced Baron von Steuben to Silas fucking Deane and Benjamin "Slim Shady" Franklin, but they weren't able to promise Steuben anything but some regurgitated American propaganda, since, by this time, they were already getting yelled at by Congress and Washington for allowing too many incompetent Frenchmen into the Continental Army. They told him that the only way he could assist in the American fight for independence would be to go to America and present himself as a volunteer to Congress (like Lafayette ended up having to do).

This obviously pissed off Steuben since he was actually experienced trying to get a job, because its not fun being an overqualified, unemployed gay man in 18th century Europe. But still, he settled for being a volunteer, and set out for America, his passage being paid for by the French government.

WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETERRRRRRR

Steuben traveled to America with his Italian greyhound, Azor, and his two assistants, Louis de Pontiere (ADC) and Pierre Ettienne Duponceau (military secretary). They arrived in New Hampshire on December 1, 1777. They were almost arrested upon arrival because Steuben had a blond moment and mistakenly dressed them in red uniforms instead of blue. They traveled through Boston to York, Pennyslvania, arriving on February 5, 1778.

In Steuben's letter of recommendation, Franklin mistranslated Steuben's rank to "His Excellency, Lieutenant General von Steuben, Apostle of Frederick the Great", which made him seem way more distinguished than he was. As a result, he was presented a much higher rank by Congress.

Steuben was ordered to report to Washington's headquarters at Valley Forge, where he arrived on February 23, 1778, and was described by a soldier as "a perfect personification of Mars."

Steuben's good first impression also had an effect on Washington, who appointed him temporary Inspector General, and it was in this position that he had his largest impact on American history, and changed the course of the war

Why Every Army Should Have Gay People, An Essay by Publius

Baron von Steuben began his transformation of the Continental Army by writing training drills, overriding the regional trainings of the state militias into a unified and universal regimen. There was a significant language barrier, however, as Steuben originally wrote the drills in French, which were then translated into English by Duponceau, John Laurens, and Alexander Hamilton. Then, they were given to the brigade inspectors, who made the copies which were then copied to be delivered to each officer. There was definitely a more efficient way to do this, but you know. It was also Valley Forge.

General Washington's Life Guard and some men from each state (totalling around 120 men) were used as a model to show the rest of the army how they were supposed to go through the drills. As they trained and demonstrated the drills, Steuben was writing new ones, only a few days ahead, which is a massive time crunch. This was done intentionally to make the drills as simple as he could, so the training of the army was dispersed in a rapid, orderly fashion. This man was a genius, I can't emphasize it enough.

The officers in the British army, which was the standard for Americans in many respects, would allow the sergeants to drill the men, but Steuben said fuck that, I'm gonna do it myself. This made many American officers uncomfortable because the men developed a bond with him because of how talented he was (and the fact that he was funny and used profanity in multiple languages), and along with the fact that Steuben's office seemingly had no limitations, this caused them to complain to the big boss, Washington. To make them feel better, Washington issued orders on June 15, 1778 to govern the Inspector General's office until further word from Congress.

The reformed Continental Army showed off their swag on May 6, 1778 when they celebrated the news of the Franco-American Alliance, which impressed soldiers, officers, and civilians. More happy news came when Steuben was given his commission from the Congress as Inspector General, with the rank of Major General.

It was at the Battle of Monmouth when the new training of the Continental Army was able to take what would have been a losing battle for the Americans to a technical draw. Steuben was actually almost killed/taken prisoner (depending on the mood of the British) during this battle because he was wearing so many metals of honor that he glimmered in the sunlight, and was spotted by the British. He was fine, though.

General von Steuben went to Philadelphia in the winter of 1778-79 to write his book of regulations, referred to as The Blue Book. Lieutenant Colonel Francois de Fleury, a volunteer, assisted in writing it. It was with the assistance of ~Benjamin Walker~ and Duponceau that the blue book was translated into English, which is why we know Walker as being important! And the fact that he and Steuben totally boned! Anyway, Captain Pierre Charles L'Enfant was illustrated it, and the book was used all the way until 1814.

After the war

General von Steuben rejoined the Continental Army in April of 1779 to serve through the end of the war. He was an instructor and supply officer for General Nathanael Greene's southern army from the beginning of the southern campaign until Yorktown. Steuben commanded one of three divisions in the Continentals at Yorktown. He assisted in demobilizing the army in 1783, and resigned his commission in 1784, which is actually the latest I've heard of a Continental General resigning his commission!

Steuben continuously petitioned Congress for financial compensation for mesothelioma (not really) and fuck ass Congress only gave him a part of what he was owed, which was pretty typical. But! New York, Pennsylvania, and Virginia all gave him land grants, which he sold portions off to have enough money to live. So, he retired from NYC to his land holdings to live the remainder of his life.

Oh, and fun fact, Steuben was present at one of the riots in New York that Alexander Hamilton tried to stop, and they both had bricks thrown at them. It might have been the Cadaver Riots, but I could be wrong since I didn't feel like double checking.

Steuben never married, and instead lived with Benjamin Walker for a long period of time. He died on his 16,000 acre farm tract in the Mohawk Valley of New York on November 28, 1794.

Homosexuality

The source I used for this does not mention his homosexuality at all, but I'm going to, because the last thing you'll ever see me do is pretend like gay people didn't exist or are "unprofessional" to talk about in history.

If you say that Alexander Hamilton was gay, you have to say Steuben was, and vice versa. Rumors of homosexuality followed Steuben from Europe all the way to America, and play a large role in why he relocated many times, and never seemed to have a permanent home until the end of his life. This was a form of unofficial exile that many queer people faced in times where their existence was illegal. As soon as your name was associated with possible homosexuality, you couldn't get comfortable anywhere.

But von Steuben wasn't brought down by this, and you've gotta respect that. He threw elaborate parties starting almost as soon as he arrived at the Continental Army. If you're new to the amrev community here, this is what we mean by "flaming shot/pantless parties", because they had shots of liquor that they would light on fire, and in order to get in, at least part of your breeches had to have been missing. While straight men did attend these parties, the subtext in discussions about them seem to imply that they were also a gathering place for queer men.

These parties continued, and some familiar faces were there, such as Duponceau, Walker Hamilton, Laurens, and, later on, Charles Adams. However, I'm not going to speculate on who was fucking who, though it has been largely accepted by historians that General von Steuben and Benjamin Walker were lovers, and I personally think there is substantial evidence to support this when you align their personal correspondence with the close proximity they maintained throughout their lives.

General von Steuben is a figure that is very important to many queer people as a conspicuous queer man in history who had an undeniable impact on the course of American history. Portrayals of Steuben in media typically disregard this, however more and more biographers are discussing his homosexuality and the significance it plays in queer history. So, I'll end this post by saying this: Steuben is just as significant in American history as he is in Queer history, and it is irresponsible to pretend like he isn't.

Source:

National Park Service- Valley Forge

British Battles.com- Battle of Kunersdorf

George Washington's Indispensable Men by Arthur S. Lefkowitz

John Laurens and the American Revolution by Gregory D. Massey

Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow

Anyway, thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about Steuben lol. I didn't previously know much about his life before the American Revolution, so I was very happy to learn. I actually bought a biography about him not long ago, The Drillmaster of Valley Forge: The Baron de Steuben and the Making of the American Army by Paul Lockhart, but I haven't read it yet. If anyone has, pls let me know if it's good or not. After Massey and Chernow, I'm practically on my hands and knees begging for a male author to treat queer history seriously. Anyway, thank you for the ask! I'm going to go watch the george washington mini series for steuben content

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w1ldflcwers · 27 days ago

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★ ‧₊˚ ⋆ oh , that ? might be yujin hume nee kim , a thirty-one year old owner and head baker of sweet haven bakery who’s been hanging around wicklow ridge for fifteen years , just long enough to stir up some trouble if you ask me. they’re a regular at crystal springs , always going on about “there once was a woman known by everyone and no one” like it’s gospel. around town , folks say they’re vivacious + altruistic — but when they think no one’s listening ? it’s more like performative + sensitive. are the rumors true ? maybe not … but it sure makes life around here a little more interesting.

basics.

full name: yujin hume nee kim. goes by: yujin , jinni ( mainly family and close friends ). age: thirty1. date of birth: june 28th. zodiac: cancer. gender: cis woman. pronouns: she / her. orientation: heteromantic , heterosexual. birthplace: seoul , south korea. occupation: owner and head baker / pastry chef of sweet haven bakery. education: attended pastry school in paris , studying the pastry and boulangerie disciplines. also took classes in culinary management. spoken languages: korean , english , french. parents: owen kim , father. sohee kim , mother. sibling: tbd kim , older sibling. significant other: eddie hume , husband. children: four year old twin daughters. pets: a she-cat named bomi.

personality.

positive: vivacious , altruistic , eloquent , compassionate , sociable , gentle. negative: performative , sensitive , gullible , passive , reticent , conciliatory. moral alignment: neutral good. temperament: sanguine. mbti: esfj - the consul. enneagram: 2w1 , the companion. hobbies: baking , journaling , scrapbooking , reading , ice skating , attending and hosting social events.

backstory.

a timid but kind child, the youngest of the family, grew up in a warm, nurturing environment, both of her parents mindful about balancing expectations with genuine support. she didn't remember much about living in seoul; the kims moved back to the states to be closer to yujin's father's family when she was only three, and she grew up surrounded by the bustling city of boston. yet not even that brought her out of her shell. yujin preferred to follow the leads of other, mostly her parents and older sibling but eventually her peers. another change of scenery, this time trading the city for wicklow ridge when her parents decided they were tired of city life, didn't alter her demeanor.

it was only after the family moved to wicklow ridge that, with the help of someone who would become her best friend, yujin began growing more confident. and like a flower watered after a long drought, she blossomed. the last thing anyone would've once called her was a social butterfly, but that's precisely what she became, and after spreading her wings she never looked back.

her parents were surprised when yujin declared that she wanted to go to culinary school, specifically pastry school, rather than college. baking had always been a favorite hobby of hers, often making various baked goods for her family and friends and giving them as gifts, and she'd worked in a bakery during high school, but they hadn't thought she had intended it as her career. but their surprise didn't equal disapproval. there were happy tears when they said goodbye at the airport before yujin boarded her flight for paris. france felt like a place out of a dream. she fell in love with the city and her studies. her teachers bestowed numerous praises upon her and her skills, which only motivated her to work harder.

france was also where she also thought that she fell in love for the first time - only that part of her time in paris was something she didn't like speaking of. a student in the culinary program appeared considerate, warm, and charming. falling was easy. no one told her falling didn't promise a soft landing. the relationship quickly became hot and cold. numerous times he said he was done with the relationship only to come back a few days later asking for forgiveness. it was only after learning he'd cheated numerous times that she left for good.

her studies remained a welcomed distraction from the personal problems, which she mentioned to no one. she'd gotten a job at a popular bakery, working under a pastry chef she grew to consider her mentor. they worked closely together but each time a critic came to the establishment, yujin was pushed to the side. she rationalized that it was normal; she was still early in her career. until one of the other assistant bakers finally told her that the woman she viewed as a mentor was only using her, taking full credit for desserts and menus yujin herself had made. her boss brushed it aside, promising that next time a critic came she'd have them mention yujin in the review, but when that didn't occur and yujin asked again, she was abruptly fired. thankfully, graduation was right around the corner.

she still almost stayed in paris, contemplating the idea of trying to find a job at a bakery or restaurant there as a pastry chef, but instead she bought a plane ticket home. the allure of paris had faded. yujin thought it'd be temporary while she figured out next step, but wicklow ridge welcomed her back with open arms and yujin discovered that she had no desire to leave. a decision made, she began the work of establishing her own bakery in town. luck smiled upon her; the owner of the bakery she'd worked at as a teenager was looking to retire and offered to sell her the bakery. yujin jumped at the opportunity and refashioned the shop in her own style. it wasn't long before sweet haven bakery was a staple in town, every day a busy one between customers and catering orders.

when she returned home, yujin wasn't looking for love but it found her. a near instant connection that only grew stronger as the weeks bled into months and months bled into years. she strove to be the best wife and mother she could be, her family's happiness her biggest priority. everything was wonderful . . . until it wasn't. now her marriage stood on unstable ground and the future suddenly felt uncertain. but it didn't stop yujin from putting on a smile every time she stepped outside and pretending all was fine - because surely it would be fine again.

headcanons.

extremely conflict averse. she will agree with someone or with an idea in order to prevent an argument even if she disagrees. definitely needs to grow a stronger backbone but it hasn't happened yet.

"you take care of everyone but who takes care of you? vibes. she doesn't hesitate to put those she cares about first and prioritize their wellbeing and happiness before sparing a thought for herself. will burn herself out in order to keep others warm.

she defaults to putting on a brave face and pretend everything is fine. partially because she doesn't want to be a bother and partially because she cares a little too much about how people view her. it's why only a few people know about the bad times in paris and why yujin doesn't talk about the current problems in her marriage.

remains very trusting, always looking for the good in people. this does make her more prone to being used by others since she will normally believe what someone says without question and forgives if given a reason to.

never shows up to any social event without a baked good of some sort. she tries to bring whatever treat is the host's favorite but if it's a general event, she will make whatever she thinks fits best - could be cookies, muffins, cupcakes, you name it.

she has traveled back to korea a handful of times to visit her mother's side of the family.

used to ice skate competitively when she was younger. she never considered going professional and mainly did it for fun. she still enjoys going skating when winter rolls around.

has been journaling since she lived in paris. she rarely, if ever, lets anyone read them.

the main social media she's active on is the bakery's insta, which showcases the recipes and treats that sweet haven is currently offering on their menu. it has developed a large following over the years.

sweet haven bakery operates on a seasonal menu that yujin curates herself with special pastries appearing for certain holidays. the menu always features a few traditional korean desserts like bungeoppang or dasik. she is very hands on at the bakery. her favorite activity is decorating the cakes and pastries but finds bread making very relaxing.

#i. 𝘆𝘂𝗷𝗶𝗻 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖾 ›› intro.#wicklow:intro

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sabancii · 3 months ago

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pinterest. / connections. / navigation.

── ( derya pinar ak. 22. cis female. she/they. ) thank god you’re here, man - have you seen SUNA SABANCI anywhere? i totally lost them after their rendition of come away with me by norah jones last night. no? they’re like, aye - high and go to LANGSTON - i think they’re a SENIOR studying ECO-SPIRITUAL DESIGN ? but who knows, these days. all i know is that they’re CREATIVE, COSMICALLY UNBOTHERED and a PISCES . last night they kept going on and on about how they won “MOST LIKELY TO START A COMMUNE” last year, which is cool and whatever, but i just wouldn’t expect it out of them, considering they’re so, like, SOFT-SPOKEN and NONCOMMITAL you know? anyways - i’m going to check down by the herb garden behind castle fell, i think that’s where they like to hang. text me if you see them, okay? bye!

basic information.

name: suna sabancı · nicknames: su · birthday: march 12 · zodiac: pisces · age: 22 · hometown: greenwich, connecticut · birthplace: izmir, turkey · religion: islam · education: college student · relationship status: single · family: raised in a multi-generational household, very close with family, has older brother & sister · languages: english, turkish

physical characteristics.

height: 5’5 · eyes: brown · hair: brown · build: petite, slender · distinguishing marks: freckles that cover her entire face

personality and behavior.

+ easygoing, laid-back, free-spirited, creative, earthy - avoidant,unreliable, indecisive, unfocused, nonchalant suna’s your quintessential crunchy, granola girl who flows through life with very little care. there’s a natural coolness about her, though she’d never use that word. she’s hella creative and full of imagination, but lacks follow through– starting things with passion, only to abandon them midway. suna’s tendency to flake on projects, plans, or responsibilities isn’t out of malice, but a desire to live fully in the present, preferring to remain free and untethered.

hobbies: crafting, yoga, gardening, foraging, hiking, meditation, ukelele, attending concerts and festivals, herbalism, aimless meandering likes: being around people, live music, finding random bodies of water and wading in them, anything diy, mangoes, kombucha dislikes: conflict/confrontation, schedules/routines, pollution, negativity, being rushed, overcooked veggies, reading, western medicine quirks: talks to plants, can't finish a project, frequent hiccup-er, humming and dancing while completing tasks, smelling everything, snorting when laughing

about suna.

suna was born in izmir, turkey, a relaxed coastal city known for its arts, culture, and deep connection to nature.

she moved to the u.s. at the age of 12, everything about her still embodies the carefree spirit of her birthplace.

her family's successful real estate development business brought them to the new york metro area, where they expanded their empire (and already immense wealth).

suna's family has always been close, but they grew closer as they adjusted to life in a new country together

after she graduates high school, she has no fucking clue what she wants to do with her life, but she's accepted to boston university which is conveniently close to her older brother at harvard.

she accepts and leaves her major undeclared. doesn't matter because she ends up failing out for not attending literally any of her classes... structured education just isn't her vibe, she craved something slower, more intuitive.

during this time, suna finds real solace in nature, where she claims to have learned more from rivers and rosemary than she could in any classroom.

inspired, she starts crafting wellness products and selling them at local farmer's markets and on etsy.

her products are 100% natural, organic, herbal, vegan, sustainable, ethically sourced, handcrafted, raw, non-GMO, fair trade, healing soaps and other self care products—under the name herbancı, a nod to her surname. if this sounds obnoxious, it's because it is.

despite how popular her products become, suna is a truly terrible businesswoman, and honestly? she doesn’t care. her parents’ money keeps her afloat while she figures it out.

eventually, she transfers to langston, drawn in by their flexible program structures and the promise that she could design her own major. she’s now technically a senior… if you count eco-spiritual design as a real thing (she does).

headcanons.

vegetarian since 10

it's not uncommon to see her family's name on buildings

style is very boho, probably has like three belly chains and wears a toe ring, definitely has tried the whole dreads thing before getting told off online

would go barefoot everywhere if she could, practices grounding and even wears shoes with copper in their sole

can’t start her day without making her own herbal tea blend, swears it helps her align with the universe

will reference your zodiac sign

more spiritual than dogmatic

#intro #pinned #langston.intro

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thislovintime · 2 years ago

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Photo by Matthew Asner:

“First day of school in 9th grade. I am nervous as hell because it is my first day of high school and it’s all new. I walk into my Social Studies Class and am greeted by the teacher who just happens to be Peter Tork of The Monkees. A guy I watched goofing around on TV religiously as a child was teaching me about the world. He was a tough teacher. We had a thing in his class where he would always think that I wasn’t paying attention. He would always make a point of stopping what he was teaching and say to me, ‘What did I just say`’ I would always answer him correctly and it always seemed to frustrate him. He was very smart and loved to read from Mao’s Little Red Book. I was truly happy for him when The Monkees started touring and he found success again. I took this picture in our schoolyard at New Dimensions High School.” - Matthew Asner (Ed Asner’s son), Facebook, July 1, 2023

“Since September he has been teaching English, math, drama, Eastern philosophy and ‘Rock Band Class’ at Pacific Hills, a private secondary school in Santa Monica, Calif. A college dropout, Peter got the job on the strength of his interview with Dr. Penrod Moss, the school’s director. ‘I like to hire people who are independent and creative,’ Moss said. ‘I was impressed by his personality and his ability to speak.’ […] While Tork the musician still has dreams of one day returning to the rock circuit, Thorkelson the teacher is happily planning his next course, ‘Mao, Marx and Mama.’ ‘I’m doing something important,’ he says. ‘I never do anything less than important.’” - People magazine, April 5, 1976

“For some time, [Tork] said, the students in his high school classes had trouble forgetting their teacher was once a teen idol. ‘Until I gave out a few F’s,’ he added, grinning.” - The Clarion Ledger, November 1, 1979 (x)

“I was a schoolteacher in Southern California, and I taught music as well as academics, and I really very much love to teach, and, and I think that if circumstances show me that I am not to entertain anymore or my entertaining career per se winds down, I would very, very much love to coach young entertainers.” - Peter Tork, Headquarters radio, September 1989

“[A]s a teacher, I realized that in order to teach something well you need to understand what your student is going through as they try to learn.” - Peter Tork, The Journal Times Online, August 12, 2005

On a 2018 blog post at the Monkees Live Almanac, one former student, Mark, commented: “Best high school teacher I ever had […]. Tremendous empathy.” (x)

“I taught English and social studies. And sure, the kids probably saw me as a Monkee, but they got over that in a hurry. Once I lost my temper at the kids, they’d see I was just like all the others — and I probably lost my temper too many times, since I was in an angry state back then. I have a life now, that’s the difference. I have a spiritual core. I’m not Shirley MacLaine but I believe in greater or lesser worlds and consciousness. Most people think of themselves as cut off from each other; others know there’s a connectedness that can be tapped into.” - Peter Tork, The Boston Globe, August 10, 1989

“In the mid-’70s, Tork got jobs teaching English, social studies and music at two private schools in the Los Angeles area. The first job, which he enjoyed, was at ‘a radical progressive school in Santa Monica.’ The second was at a school he describes as ‘a holding tank for budding fascists. I couldn’t hack it. I found more integrity in being a singing waiter’ — his next job.” - Los Angeles Times, October 20, 1992 (x)

More about that next job here.

#Peter Tork #Tork quotes #Tork teaching #70s Tork #<3 #long read #Matthew Asner #1975 #1976 #1977 #1978 #1979 #also always so much respect for Peter's unflinching honesty in interviews #this photo... thank you Matthew Asner thank you #The Clarion Ledger #Los Angeles Times #the boston globe #Headquarters Radio #can you queue it

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fandom-queen-13 · 25 days ago

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okay so explaint to me what tf2 is. because i've been seeing it all over your blog and I am confused/mildly concerned

- a concerned citizen

I honestly haven't played it so I'm not the best person to ask about this. But I'll give it a try!

(spoilers below the cut because it's going to be kind of long)

TF2 is a first person team-based shooter game taking place in the 50s-60s where you can play as one of nine classes. I'm in it for the lore, so that's what I'll be mostly taking about.

The Lore:

Two warring brothers, Redmond and Bluterarch Mann, fight over the same piece of land in Teufort, New Mexico. They lived many long years to fight over it, kept alive by a magical element called Austrailium. They hired mercenaries to fight for them, seperated into two teams: Reliable Excavation Division (RED) and Builders League United (BLU). Respawned over and over again with a special machine, they do many tasks for points and money: Capturing the Intelligence, Pushing the Payload, sometimes fighting robots or wizards!

The nine classes:

Offense

Scout (Jeremy Willis) is the speedy boi. He uses a baseball bat, he's from Boston, and he is the youngest of eight brothers, so to get to the streetfights the fastest he learned to run really fast. He's brash, cocky and talks a lot, and also drinks BONK, a highly caffeinated soda that may or may not be radioactive. He never knew his father (except he does; you'll see later), but he adores Tom Jones to the point of using all his money to buy Tom Jones memorabilia. Last we saw of him (over 7 years after the war ended) he has a mullet and four kids!

Soldier (Jane Doe) supposedly fought in WW2, but he really just wandered into the war and started killing Nazis when he wasn't drafted. He's not the brightest nail in the pincushion, made worse by the fact that he drinks lead-filled water. He loves America, and hates everything un-American. Fortunately, he thinks that everyone on the team is American, despite 5 (6? we don't know about Pyro) of them being from other continents. He eventually falls in love and has kids with Zhanna, who is Russian and the sibling of one of the other teammates. Oh, and he was once housemates with a wizard names Merasmus, who HAAAATES soldier for turning it into a raccoon sanctuary.

Pyro. We don't know much about Pyro, not even gender. But we do know that he makes a good CEO, as seen in one of the comics. However, what she loves the most is FIYAH! They wear a gas mask that has something called "Pyrovision" in it, but I think it just sees destruction and carnage as unicorns and rainbows on his own.

Defense

Demoman (Tavish Finnigan DeGroot) is, as he calls himself, "A black Scottish cyclops." He lost his eye as a kid to a book in Merasmus's castle (because Merasmus is as old as dust, and Demo worked for him when he was younger). He was abandoned as a baby, grew up, killed his adoptive parents, then got re-adopted by his biological parents because he apparently proved himself as a demoman by then. To cope with all this, he drinks a lot. Surprisingly, this works out for him as a demoman because the double vision replaces his missing eye. Unfortunately, because he drinks so much, he literally can not live without alcohol, and if given normal food and water goes into severe withdrawl. But it's okay! His body can distill his bone marrow into alcohol! On a separate note, he has a sword that is determined to cut off heads.

Heavy (Mikhail) is commonly seen as dumb because he's big, beefy, doesn't speak English well, and shows adoration to his gun. But this is far from the truth! He has a Phd in Russian literature, a good strategist, and loves his family as well as his gun (and a special someone). He grew up in the cold mountain gulag where his father was killed, escaped to America, and sends almost all the money he earns to his family (the rest goes to his gun). He's the face of TF2, as all the merch usually has his figure, but he hasn't got an in-game update in a long time.

Engineer (Dell Conagher) is here because of generational wealth. His father worked for Mann Co, and so did his grandfather, who actually designed the Respawn machine. He builds sentries, teleporters, and dispensers to aid his team. People say that he's the most sane out of the nine members, but I don't think you can call a Texan who cut off his perfectly good hand to bring a replacement his grandfather designed to life "sane."

Support

Medic (Herbert Ludwig) IS. NOT. A. NAZI. He's just a little silly German guy! As you can guess, he's the team doctor (and Heavy's special someone). He has doves, including the blood-and-guts-loving Archimedes, that he treats better than his other teammates. He's got a medi-gun that can heal this team, and if it gets charged enough he can Übercharge them to make them invulnerable for a few seconds. This makes him the main target of the team, so he has to rely on the rest of his team to keep him safe.

Sniper (Mick Mundy/Mun-Dee) may or may not be an alien. Or at the very least, he's the last of a dying species. When he was a baby, his birthplace of New Zealand started sinking, and he crawled into a capsule that shot up and landed in Austrailia, where he was adopted by a couple. He considers himself a professional assassin (his adoptive dad wants him to be a crazed gunman) who is "polite, efficient, and has a plan to kill everyone he meets," so he only has this job for the money. I wouldn't say he's "polite," though, as he has Jarate (two words: PISS JARS).

Spy is a spy. And Scout's father. We know just a little more about him than Pyro, but not much. He hooks up with Scout's ma a lot, and he often makes jokes about him being "off to visit your mother." He can turn invisible, disguise as the other team, and sap the Enguneer's buildings like it's nothing. We're not sure if he's even French like his accent suggests.

Other characters

Flo Pauling: Basically a coordinator to the mercs. Scout has a one-sided crush on her, but they talk it out in the last comic. She's highly dedicated

The Administrator: the lady who brought the teams all together. She's making the teams fight to torture this one guy for revenge, although even she forgot why she wants it, and when she's out of Austrailium in the end comic she smiles in victory as they both dissolve into dust.

Saxton Hale: the current owner of Mann Co. Or he was, until Grey Mann (the forgotten brother) challenged him to it. But Grey didn't send himself, no: he sent his young daughter, Olivia. Hale couldn't bring himself to beat up a little girl, so Gray took over. After years, Hale got the company back and set Olivia free. Then he left the company to fight jaguars to this day.

I would write more about TF2, the characters, and my favorite fanworks, but this post is getting long.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #asks #ask me anything!#queenie infodumps #please let me know if you have questions #that was a lot of writing and I might have missed some stuff

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joannaliceevans-fanficblog · 1 year ago

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Evermore: The Proposal

Hi everyone! So, this One Shot is a flashback, to when Ari was a Sargent Major and Reader was a Freshman in College.

It's your first year at Boston College and you are working towards your degree in English and your teaching degree. Your roommate, Holly, has been nothing but amazing. She's a history major specializing in World War II. At the same time, you were on a soccer scholarship. You could have gone to Syracuse, Chapel Hill in North Carolina, or UConn. But you decided on Boston College since it’s closer to home.

Your family asked why you didn't apply for West Point or the Naval Academy or even the Air Force Academy. You could have because you had the connections because your uncle was in politics, your dad was a West Pointer and your aunt was at the Naval Academy.

But you didn’t because staying close to home was your choice.

You didn’t have class on Fridays, but you had soccer practice and a game tonight against Harvard. You reached for your phone before it went off. Yawning, you looked at the time 3:10am.

“Too early!” You mumbled to yourself and kicked out the blankets. Rubbing your eyes and you reached for your glasses and let out a long moan. You carefully got out of bed and grabbed your essentials. After getting ready for the day, you placed on your workout clothes, grabbed your cleats and your sports bag then you were out the door.

After a long day of practice, you made it to your dorm room and went to rest, before getting back to the field for tonight’s game. Your parents, Holly, and your cousin Eric will be there as well. It’s a big game, and it’s against your rival team Harvard. But there is one person in the world that is missing. Ari.

Ari is your best friend and finally made things official just a few years ago, even if you and he were an item long before that. You have told your parents. It was a no-brainer that the both of you have strong feelings for each other. It’s hard at first too. A few gals tried to go after him. And you have to admit, Ari is an eye catcher. You had doubts when he’s away but he's proven to you that he wants you and that he loves you.

But since he’s in the Army, he’s not home as often. Since he’s in training at 501s Airborne Division in Fort Liberty, North Carolina. Phone calls were rare and emails were the only way to communicate. Occasionally you would get a package from him. The long distance is hard and you sometimes would cry yourself to sleep because you missed him.

You arrived at the Newton Campus Field along with your teammates. As you walked in, you immediately went to your locker and went to get changed. You placed on your white jersey #10 (the date of your birthday), your shin guards, long socks and finally your cleats. Then your coach came in and told everyone that it was time to warm up.

You were on the field stretching with your teammate, Jenny, when you saw your parents in the stands. You waved at them then you saw Holly along with Erica and to your surprise, Andy. You laughed and flipped him off to which he laughed.

“You flipped your family off?” Jenny asked.

You turned your head and laughed, “I did, one of my best friends is in the stands with my family.” You said and continued your stretching. It was soon after when the game started.

When halftime came, you heard the announcer call your name and you stepped over to the middle of the field. You couldn’t understand why you’d been pulled away from your teammates at halftime. As you waited for the announcers to quit talking, you scratched at your arm. The main one said something that grabbed your attention, “Her boyfriend of two years, Ari Levinson, has been away serving our country in the US Army.”

Hearing Ari’s name made your heart flutter and a smile crossed your face. Your college mascot approached you holding a bouquet of roses. Confused, you took the flowers. A cheer erupted as a video started to play of you and Ari together. You looked up at the stands where Holly was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

You were so entranced by the video that you completely missed the mascot starting to come out of his costume. The cheers and clapping got louder. A voice broke you from your reverie, “Y/N, turn around.”

You froze. That was Ari’s voice. Slowly, you turned. What you found in place of the mascot’s head was Ari’s. A grin was plastered to his face as he continued to come out of the costume. Your hands covered your face and tears came pouring down your cheeks. You jumped into his arms. Ari caught you and held you for a moment and you showered him with kisses. Then he placed you back down onto the ground. A microphone was placed into his hands.

“Y/N, over these past many years of knowing you, I have found someone irreplaceable. You are kind, generous, feisty and loving. Your heart is full of love and so ready to give. You make me smile with your beautiful laugh and your giving spirit.”

As he stepped from the costume, Ari’s uniform came into view. He pulled his cap from his pocket and adjusted it on his head, “You have been so supportive of my desire to serve and you take every deployment with patience and grace. When I am away, the only thing that keeps me going is imagining your face. Seeing you on those occasional calls makes me feel at home. You are my home.”

Your eyes widened and tears began to fill them as Ari lowered to one knee. Your hand flew to your mouth. Ari reached into his pocket, “I want nothing more than for you to be my home for the rest of our lives. Y/N will you marry me?”

You were still in shock, and you wanted to say yes, nothing was coming out. But Ari knew, he could see it in your tear stained eyes. He took the ring from the box and he slipped it onto your left hand. You then jumped into his arms and kissed him once more.

Ari let you go and you went on to finish the game. And as the game ended with a 2-1 and with Boston College winning, you had something else to celebrate too. After celebrating in the locker room, your parents, Holly, Andy, and your now fiancée Ari were waiting outside in the hallway. You were showered and changed. By the time you walked out, you saw Ari changed and still looked amazing. Your parents took you, Ari, Andy and your roommate to a nice dinner in Boston.

“So, I assume all of you were in this?” You asked, taking your seat next to your now fiancee.

Your mom, let out a giggle and your roommate did the same. You then also looked at Andy and he laughed.

“Well the proposal was something I wanted to do for a while, but my commander granted me an early leave. So I told your parents, they helped me with the planning. Holly talked to your coach and he made this happen.” Ari said, leaning in and kissed the top of your head.

“I just happened to be in town for the weekend, so I decided to come see your game too.” Andy said, giving you a wink.

“Well, you all are masterminds. I had no clue.” You say, as you grabbed the menu.

One year later, here you stood in the middle of the garden of St. Cecilia Catholic Church. With your bouquet in your hands, and you facing the gazebo. The nerves were rising, and you weren’t sure why you were this nervous. It’s just Ari and no one else. You have waited for this day to come, and it was finally here. You haven’t seen Ari since the summer and since then he’s been busy with new training and preparing for his deployment in Germany.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you smiled to yourself. You turned around slowly, you were speechless. Your beloved Ari was standing there in his Army uniform, with his barrett, his coat showing his medals, his new rank of Sergeant Major and his saber at his side. You saw tears coming down his cheeks and you reached up to wipe them away. He placed his hand onto yours and you both smiled. Ari then placed his other hand onto your cheek and he placed a kiss on your forehead.

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