#Brandon walsh imagine

[stargazing-imagines]

The one that got away ( Brandon Walsh x fem!reader )

Description : you come back to Beverly Hills but this time your engaged meanwhile Brandon still has feelings her you

Pairing: Brandon Walsh x fem!reader

Warnings: mild jealousy, toxic friends, if there’s anything else, let me know ASAP.

Side note : this will take place in the older seasons more like season 7 or 8 so yeah

“I’m so glad that your back,” said Donna as she gave you a hug “I can’t believe you convinced Michael to have the wedding in Beverly Hills.”

“I know, he wasn’t all thrilled but I wanted you guys to be apart of it.” you said as you draped a bag over your shoulder. “besides I would hate for you all to have to fly all the way to Chicago for the wedding.”

“So. where is this fiancé of yours?” Asked Kelly as she nudged your shoulder, which made you do a silly school girl grin.

“He’s over at baggage claim.” you said “speaking of the devil.”

“Y/n.”said your fiancé Michael as he gave you a kiss on the cheek

“Michael.” you said as you placed a brief kiss onto his lips before pulling away “oh Michael, these are my friends from high school, Kelly and Donna,”

“Nice to meet you girls,” said Michael

“Same, so where are you two staying?” Asked Donna

“You two can always stay with us at our apartment,” said Kelly

“You two have an apartment?!” You asked “that so cool, but we’ll probably get a rental just until we can get back on our feet.”

“Well you are welcome anytime.” said Kelly “besides Claire has been bugging me about meeting you.”

You laughed before responding.

“Tell her ill come over as soon as I can.” you said with a grin.

——

“Brandon, you need to get over Y/n.” said Steve as he sat at stools of the peach pit.

“I know, but I always thought that she would be the one for me.” said Brandon “it’s crazy that she’s getting married.”

“Yeah, I heard that the bachelor is a total stud.” said Steve

That was interrupted when the door of the peach pit opened.

“Y/n, what brings you back into town?” Asked Nat, you stood in front of the counter holding your right hand up showing the ring.

“Well first off, I’m engaged, and second, I’m holding the wedding here at the Beverly Hills beach club.”

“Engaged? Well congratulations,” said nat “I need to meet this boy.”

You chuckled before looking over, you spot Brandon and Steve sitting a few stools down.

“Brandon! Steve!”

“Y/n.” said Brandon “I heard the news.”

“Yeah... Your not mad are you?” You asked “I know how much our relationship meant to you before I left for college 3 years ago.”

“No im not mad, whoever your marrying is a lucky person,”

“I know,” you said “he’s perfect,”

After that you sighed dreamily before walking out of the peach pit

“I see that you handled that well,” joked Steve

“Shut up,”

——

It was the day before the wedding, and you and the girls were over at Kelly and Donna’s apartment celebrating your bachelorette party.

“I can’t believe I will be Mrs Howard tomorrow,” you said “he is so dreamy,”

“How did you and Michael meet?” Asked Claire “I’m dying to know this story,”

You chuckled before explaining the story.

“We met when I was a college freshman, and when he was a college sophomore. I was so heart broken and miserable after what happened with Brandon that my roommates decided to take me out, well that was when I met Michael,”

——

University of Chicago (3 years ago)

“Kylie, this is a bad idea.” said 18 year old you as you were standing inside a messy fraternity house “I’m not even at age.”

“Come on y/n, don’t be such a party killer, you want to make the best of college don’t you?”

“Yeah, but this isn’t how I want to remember college,”

“Whatever just enjoy tonight.” said Kylie “now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find Erica,”

With that, Kylie left you standing in the door way of the fraternity house. You sighed before making your way to the living room, and when you did you bumped into a broad body.

“I’m so sorry I-“

——

“And that was how we met,” you said as you smiled

“So you two met at a fraternity party?” Asked Donna “that sounds exciting,”

“Not really but im glad that I went or else I wouldn’t have met the love of my life,”

All the sudden there was a knock on the door

“I’ll get it besides I have to get more ice cream,” said Donna as she got up to answer the door.

“Brandon what are you doing here?” Asked Donna, Brandon sighed before speaking

“I need to speak to y/n if that’s ok,”

“Sure she in the living room with the others,” said Donna as she made room for Brandon to walk through the door.

“Brandon what are you doing here?” You asked confused as to why he was here

“Y/n... I really need to speak to you,”

“Sure let’s talk outside,” you said as you stood up walking outside with him, as the two of you went outside, the girls rushed to a window.

——

“Look I’m not saying to get out of this marriage, I’m just saying that do you still have any feelings left for me?”

“Brandon I have always had feelings for you, eventually we all need move on,” you said “look you will always be my first love,”

“I know, it’s just. I regret what happened 3 years ago,” Said Brandon “I should’ve attended Chicago university with you, maybe we would still be together.”

“Brandon, that was in the past, of course I still have feelings for you.” You said “it just... I love Michael.”

“What so special about him huh?” Asked Brandon “what does he have that I didn’t?”

“Brandon don’t do this.”

“Y/n... I just need time to process this,”

“What are you saying? That your not coming to the wedding?” You asked “Brandon you’re a big part of my life, I want you there.”

“We’ll see.” Said Brandon “just remember, I’ll always be here for you if anything happens.”

You nodded you head as an ok, after a few minutes, Brandon left. But before he left, he stopped turning around to face you as he gave you a brief kiss.

“Sorry I had to do that one last time.” Said Brandon as he left but before he left, he took one last look at you before tearing up, you waved at him before going back Inside.”

——

Beverly Hills 90210 masterlist

[07planetarium]

📂💻❤️‍🔥🔬💭📖🧪🌃 pt.2

here was part 1!

joy of reading!!!!! the last 2 years in all aspects of my life has been the brightest and fullest years of my life so far, & no doubt part of it was the works & books & articles i read which seeped through my heart and was transmuted into something different but with the same glimmer. i touched life and grasped it with my own hands. i don't plan on stopping that ever.

the topics i want to acquaint myself with are still more or less the same: theory (degrowth, socialism, etc - haven't had the chance to do so since i was so preoccupied with my skripsi), science (a particular emphasis on neuroscience + cogsci topics), and indonesian history + poetry, always. a lot of there were carried over from the first iteration, but some i've reprioritized & c.

books i’m reading  + i’ll be at literal in terms of book-logging as always! ( *^-^)ρ(^0^* ) WITH MY FRIENDS YAYYYYY

currently reading + on hand The Night Tiger by Yangsze Choo Make Time for Creativity by Brandon Stosuy The Waves by Virginia Woolf Konferensi Asia-Afrika 1955: Asal Usul Intelektual dan Warisannya bagi Gerakan Global Antiimperialisme oleh Wildan Sena Utama Software for Artists Book #003: In Poetic Coalition, edited by Zainab Aliyu & organized with The School for Poetic Computation Soft Science by Franny Choi

to acquire + read Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer Alternatif Sebagai Strategi: Akses, Infrastruktur & Pengetahuan oleh Nuraini Juliastuti Cerita-Cerita Bahagia, Hampir Seluruhnya oleh Norman Erikson Pasaribu Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson I Am My Own Home by Isyana Artharini Membisikkan Bekal untuk Perjalanan yang Sangat Jauh: Pendekatan Feminis dalam Kerja Seni Budaya by various writers, with the support of Peretas (Perempuan Lintas Batas) and Puan Seni (Jaringan Seni Perempuan) The Case for Degrowth by Federico Demaria, Susan Paulson, Giorgis Kallis, Giacomo D′Alisa Psychopolitics: Neoliberalism and New Technologies of Power by Byung-Chul Han Marx in the Anthrophocene by Kohei Saito (or anything of his relating to degrowth communism) Indigenous Species by Khairani Barokka Experiments in Imagining Otherwise by Lola Olufemi The Idea of the Brain: The Past and Future of Neuroscience by Matthew Cobb Innate: How the Wiring of Our Brains Shapes Who We Are by Kevin J. Mitchell Kiri Asia Tenggara: Pembacaan Ulang atas Beberapa Tokoh dan Karya, disunting oleh Jafar Suryomenggolo Matahari Yang Mengalir oleh Dorothea Rosa Herliany Gambar Kesunyian di Jendela: Kumpulan Puisi oleh Shinta Febriany Catatan-Catatan dari Bulan oleh Rieke Saraswati Rifqa by Mohammed el-Kurd Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844: Human Requirements and Division of Labour by Karl Marx Our Bodies & Other Fine Machines by Natalie Wee On Decoloniality: Concepts, Analytics, Praxis by Walter D. Mignolo, Catherine E. Walsh

will obviously be reworked & mended with. thank you for my friends who also shared their reading list with me i am sooo excited to be here with you.

i have also been collating Ideas on arena. join me?

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky’s surprise arrival in Washington on Wednesday for a meeting with President Joe Biden and a speech before Congress has unhinged the always-seething anti-Ukraine Trumpian right, triggering a deluge of snark and grievance. For instance, after the Washington Examiner’s Byron York tut-tutted that Zelensky was about to tell Congress that U.S. aid to Ukraine so far was not enough, the former First Son weighed in with this:

“National conservative” pundit and Newsweek opinion editor Josh Hammer, who played the “obviously Putin is a thug and Ukraine is the victim here, but . . .” game in the early days of the war, went full Putin this time around.

To top it off, Hammer, who shares Zelensky’s Jewish heritage, also accused the Ukrainian President of being a bad Jew—unseemly under any circumstances, but all the more so considering that only a few days earlier, Hammer had been spotted at a New York Young Republicans’ Club Gala in the company of various alt-right types with, shall we say, a complicated relationship to anti-Semitism. (Among them: Rep. Marjorie “Jewish Space Lasers” Taylor Greene, the founders of the white-nationalist website VDARE, and erstwhile Jew-baiting troll Jack Posobiec.)

Hammer’s deputy op-ed editor, progressive-turned-populist Batya Ungar-Sargon (for whom, I must mention, I used to write during her stint as an editor at the Forward), at least made an effort to stay classy while making a de facto pitch for throwing Ukraine under the bus:

That’s more than can be said for the vast majority of the “no money for Ukraine” crowd, from the Daily Wire’s Matt Walsh (“Get this grifting leech out of our country please”) to Tucker Carlson, who referred to Zelensky as a “Ukrainian strip club manager”—apparently because he was dressed in a olive-drab sweatshirt—and asserted that “it may be impossible to imagine a more humiliating scenario for the greatest country on Earth.” He also insisted that Zelensky is seeking not just to “push the Russian army back to pre-invasion borders,” which even Carlson conceded “sounds reasonable,” but to topple Vladimir Putin and bring about “regime change” in Russia. After Zelensky’s speech to Congress, Carlson brought on former Congresswoman Tulsi Gabbard, the “maverick” Democrat from Hawaii, to sing along with his assertions that Zelensky was actually an autocrat muzzling critical media outlets, jailing opposition politicians, and now trying to shut down an entire church because he finds it insufficiently loyal.

(In reality, the situation involving the Moscow-affiliated branch of the Orthodox Church—one of the two Orthodox denominations in Ukraine—is massively complicated; in wartime, there are legitimate security concerns about its clergy’s reported activities in support of the invaders. However, a quote Carlson attributes to Zelensky, threatening “economic and restrictive sanctions [on] any Christian caught worshiping in unapproved ways,” does not seem to have any source other than Carlson himself.)

Then there was this from Red State commentator Brandon Morse, asserting that Zelensky has done much more damage to the United States than the January 6th rioters:

A few other right-wing pundits, including career plagiarist-turned-conspiracy-theory-peddler Benny Johnson and Turning Point USA grifting leech Charlie Kirk, homed in on the really important stuff: Zelensky’s outfit.

Of course Zelensky’s clothes were meant to visually convey the fact that he’s in the middle of a brutal war. When you’re just back from a visit to the front lines in an area that looks like a ghost warscape from World War I come back to life, you’ve earned the right to make that particular fashion statement—even on a visit to Washington, D.C.

But wait, is it a military outfit or a mafia one? The American Spectator’s Melissa Mackenzie has got the goods:

I could go on and on. But perhaps this parade of indecency should come back full circle to a literal obscenity from Don Jr.: a photoshopped image that put a naked Hunter Biden next to Zelensky on the podium addressing Congress. (Warning: this tweet may be hazardous to your eyes.) It’s vile, of course. It’s also the sort of thing you post when you have no substantive way to attack someone.

* * *

The extent and purpose of U.S. military aid to Ukraine is certainly a legitimate subject for debate. Right now, there is a powerful consensus in the United States and Europe that Ukraine, for all the flaws and imperfections of its still-young democracy, is fighting for freedom against an authoritarian Goliath and that its fight is also a fight for the free world and its values.

The question of why the Trumpian populist right is so consumed with hatred for Ukraine—a hatred that clearly goes beyond concerns about U.S. spending, a very small portion of our military budget, or about the nonexistent involvement of American troops—doesn’t have a simple answer. Partly, it’s simply partisanship: If the libs are for it, we’re against it, and the more offensively the better. (And if the pre-Trump Republican establishment is also for it, then we’re even more against it.) Partly, it’s the belief that Ukrainian democracy is a Biden/Obama/Hillary Clinton/”Deep State” project, all the more suspect because it’s related to Trump’s first impeachment. Partly, it’s the “national conservative” distaste for liberalism—not only in its American progressive iteration, but in the more fundamental sense that includes conservatives like Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher: the outlook based on individual freedom and personal autonomy, equality before the law, limited government, and an international order rooted in those values. Many NatCons are far more sympathetic to Russia’s crusade against secular liberalism than to Ukraine’s desire for integration into liberal, secular Europe.

Whatever the reason, the anti-Ukraine animus on the right is quite real and widespread. (When journalist Bari Weiss, who has a largely “anti-woke” following, retweeted a Hanukkah greeting from Zelensky, the responses from her followers in the thread were mostly hostile.) But right now, it also smells of desperation. Ukraine’s cause is still massively popular in the United States, with two-thirds of Americans supportive of sending money and arms. Disingenuous laments about the poor Ukrainians exploited by American and European globalists ring hollow and false when the vast majority of Ukrainians are so clearly determined to resist the invasion. And Zelensky, as the smarter among the aid opponents, like Ungar-Sargon, can see, is a genuine hero: patriotic, incredibly courageous and charismatic, and a speaker so compelling that even congressional right-wingers who initially refused to join in the standing ovations (including Matt Gaetz, Lauren Boebert, and Andrew Clyde) finally rose up during the last portions of his speech.

There’s a nineteenth-century Russian fable called “The Elephant and the Pug” in which a pug yaps furiously at an elephant to get attention and show off how tough it is, while the elephant simply ignores it. Zelensky would obviously be the elephant in this scenario; but that would make the Zelensky haters the pugs—and that’s frankly a hideous insult to pugs.

[hannahsmulti]

Is it just me, or is there a total lack on Beverly Hills, 90210 imagines on tumblr? Like. I want my daily dose of Brandon Walsh and reader!

[fangirl-imagines]

Afternoons at the Peach Pit//Brandon Walsh Fluff

A/N: Requested by @winchester90210

Prompt: The reader goes to the Peach Pit every day to see Brandon Walsh and Steve can’t take it anymore.

You don't know how you got in the habit of going to the Peach Pitt every day. You went in one day with your friends for dinner and the next thing you know you're there every single day almost. You weren't even eating every time, most of the time you just get a milkshake or a coffee and try and sit at the counter with your homework in front of you so you don't feel so guilty about taking up an entire booth by yourself. 

"So what are we studying for tonight?" A playful voice ask, leaning up against the counter beside you. 

You looked up into the face of the person that brings you back here every day just to talk to. Brandon smiles at you and you swallow the nervous lump in your throat to smile back. He shouldn't look that good in that teal uniform shirt but you had a hunch he'd probably look great in anything. You realize he's staring at you, still waiting for your answer. 

"History tonight. There's a test coming up in Henderson's class next week and I'm completely unprepared." 

Brandon laughed, "Oh come on with the way you're in here studying every day you should ace that test. I think Nat is even thinking about charging you rent."

You laugh along with him even though you can feel a blush creeping up your face and suddenly the pen in your hands is fascinating. 

"Hey, Brandon!" 

You both look up to see Steve Sanders and Dylan McKay setting themselves up in a both across the room.

Brandon waves. "I'll be right back." 

You nod and watch him go, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as you watch him. You didn't notice the way Steve was staring at you while you did so. You tried to turn your attention back to your notes and actually do the studying you told Brandon you came here to do. You use to be terrible at focusing on studying in public places, hiding out in the library instead, but over the last month or so you’d been camping out at the Peach Pit, you’d adapted. You were focused on your notebook when an arm snaked around your shoulders, suddenly made you jump back to reality. You looked up surprised to see Steve Sanders standing there with his arm around you and a chestier grin on his face that made your brow crease slightly. 

“Oh, hey Steve...”

“Hey, Y/N, look I was hoping you could settle an argument for me and Brandon over there.”

He gestures behind his shoulder to where Brandon is standing with Dylan, staring at you and Steve mortified.  

“Um, sure.” You agreed, feeling nervous at the sudden attention. 

You had a class with Steve once and have gone to school with him for years but you had never had a conversation with him before. 

“So, Brandon?” He wiggled his eyebrows and nodded like there was some secret going on between the two of you and this was all he needed to say.

You shook your head, “What about him?” 

You glanced over his shoulder at where Brandon was saying something to Dylan and still staring in your direction, “You totally want him right?”

You almost choked at his words, looking up at him in shock. Your lips opened and closed like a fish out of water, blinking in surprise. Had you been that obvious? 

Steve smiled smugly and nodded, “You totally do don’t you?! I told him you were coming here for more than the coffee!” 

“Wh-,What?” You managed to stutter out. 

Brandon chose that minute to rush over to the counter. “Hey, Steve come on man. Just let it go.” 

He tried to joke it off but from the way he wouldn’t meet your eye you knew he had heard everything.

“I told you I was right Brandon!” Steve laughed, “Now would you just man up and ask-” 

Your whole face went hot and you had to get out of there.  Without waiting to hear any more, you scooped up your books of the counter and tossed your bag over your shoulder, rushing out of the Peach Pit without looking back. 

It was weeks before you could make yourself go back to the Peach Pit. You managed to avoid Brandon, Steve, and their whole group at school. It wasn’t that hard, you never really saw them before you started hanging around Brandon anyway. You were grateful for this. Even thinking about seeing Brandon or his friends made you feel a fresh wave of embarrassment. You fully planned on avoiding him forever and you were pretty sure that was a reasonable plan until he called you. You didn’t know how he got your number and you were too surprised to even ask. 

“Y/N? It’s Brandon. Look just don’t hang up okay!”

 “Um, hey Brandon?” You bit your lip and shook your head even though you knew he couldn’t see you, “Look about what happened with Steve-” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about him. Steve’s my friend and all but he’s also kind of an ass. He hasn’t quite learned what tact means yet.”

 You couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah, I kind of got that.” You sighed. 

Brandon laughed, “Listen, why don’t you come by the Pit tomorrow night? Nat keeps asking me what I did to run off his best customer.”

“I don’t know Brandon. I’ve got a lot of studying and stuff to do.” 

“Come on Y/N, just one night.” 

You could practically hear him pouting through the phone and sighed, twirling the cord of the phone around your finger. 

“Okay, just one night. I’ll be there around seven okay?” 

“Great! I’ll see you there!” 

When you walk into the Peach Pit the next night you have your textbooks stuck under your arm and walk straight to your normal spot at the counter. Sitting down you look around for any signs of your favorite waiter but see none. Instead its Nat that comes over to pour you a cup of coffee and greet you brightly. 

“Hey Y/N! We were really starting to miss you around here.” 

“Hey Nat, have you seen Brandon around?”

 Nat nods his head, a playful smile on his face. “Oh yeah, he’s waiting on his date.” 

Nat points over your shoulder. You turn around and there he is. Out of uniform and sitting in a booth in the corner, Brandon smiles at you and waves you over. Looking back at Nat in confusion the older man just winks at you and takes your books and sets them behind the counter before walking off. Hesitantly you walk over to the back booth. 

“Right on time!” He greets, gesturing for you to sit down. You do even though your still visibly confused. “You look great tonight by the way.” 

“You’re not wearing your uniform.” 

Brandon laughed, “No, I only wear that at work. But if I knew you liked it that much I might have made an exception.”  

You blinked, “Nat said you had a date?” 

Brandon nods, sitting up straight in his seat to look at you seriously. “Look I’m sorry again about Steve. He thought he was helping me out by trying to get you to admit to liking me.” 

You swallowed down the memory of the embarrassment you felt that day to ask, “How was he helping you out?”

Brandon bit his lip, “Because I like you and he was trying to convince me to ask you out.” 

“You-, you like me?” 

He nodded shyly. “Yeah, I do. A lot actually.” 

You both smiled but neither said anything, not wanting to be the one to break the ice. 

“So I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime? Like tonight maybe?”

You almost laughed, not believing this was really happening to you or that it was all because of Steve Sanders. “I’d like that.” 

“Good!” He breathed, visibly relaxing into his seat. “And if you want maybe you could start coming around here again after school? I was really starting to miss that.” 

“Yeah, I think I can do that.” You laughed. 

[stevenrogered]

Exactly what is it about me that bugs you so much? There are plenty of people who think I’m not so bad. 

That! That right there. You always thought you could just charm your way out of everything.

[argyrosingh]

Recensione della seconda stagione di 13 Reasons Why

Prima di tutto un presupposto. Era necessario proseguire la vicenda di Tredici? La risposta è no. Ma dal momento che nel mondo dell’intrattenimento e dell’arte le necessità si possano creare, analizzeremo la seconda stagione, che in fin dei conti consente di integrare quanto era stato lasciato in sospeso o raccontato solo in modo parziale.

L’inizio della seconda stagione di Tredici è piuttosto lento e chiaramente legato al finale della prima stagione e alla necessità di riprenderne il discorso. Ma fin dal primo episodio cominciamo a scoprire gli altri punti di vista, a loro volta spesso esasperati, come lo erano alcuni pensieri formulati da Hannah. Nel mezzo, forse, la possibilità di costruire una verità. Ma solo di costruire, perché la realtà in esame è stata modificata dai protagonisti a un livello tale da aver perduto per sempre l’effettiva verità dei fatti. E questo è quello che riaffiora episodio dopo episodio: l’impossibilità, spesso, di dividere in modo netto buoni e cattivi; non perché non esistano, ma perché la realtà li rende a volte buoni e a volte cattivi, e per i più svariati motivi.

Cresce nel frattempo il desiderio di vendicarsi, frutto di un rimorso tardivo e dei nuovi atti di bullismo all’interno della scuola. Così la serie si concede alcuni voli pindarici e mette a nudo una violenza talvolta troppo diffusa per essere credibile. Nel complesso, ad ogni modo, la stagione esprime con crudo realismo quel genere di realtà e pur uscendo dagli schemi realistici che si è posta (il counselor violento, la proiezione mentale/fantasma di Hannah, solo per citare due aspetti poco convincenti) convince in questo senso.

Tuttavia dobbiamo parlare delle visioni di Clay: necessarie – d’accordo – ma esagerate nella messa in scena, utili solo a portare Katherine Langford sullo schermo. Inoltre, questo aspetto incentiva l’illusione che la serie invece vorrebbe smascherare: perché se è vero che le persone scomparse lasciano qualcosa in chi continua a vivere, Tredici ribadisce più volte che nonostante tutto Hannah non può più parlare, non può dare spiegazioni, difendersi o fregarsene. Non può e basta. E forse puntare ancora di più su questo aspetto sarebbe servito ad arricchire l’aspetto più drammatico della vicenda, le conseguenze di un annullamento totale e definitivo.

Lo ribadiamo: è tutto esagerato. Che non significa affatto che non sia vero, ma che in quel contesto, per come è stato rappresentato, è appunto tale. Ciò non toglie che Tredici porti avanti tematiche che nessuno affronta in modo così ampio e diretto, tanto meno in una serie tv. Uno dei temi che è stato descritto meglio è il rapporto genitori-figli, con i primi che non conoscono ma tentano di capire. Ma l’incomprensione è più estesa e riguarda anche le amicizie: in generale si dimostra quanto sia illusoria la pretesa di conoscere qualcuno per davvero.

Per non parlare di un altro tema, quello del processo. Dal punto di vista umano è facile affermare che sia colpa della scuola e che quindi questa debba pagare, ma come si lega questo in àmbito giuridico, dove a rigor di logica la colpa risiede tanto nella scuola quanto nella famiglia, negli amici e nella società stessa? Chi dovrebbe pagare effettivamente? Di sicuro la risposta non può essere “nessuno” solo perché non si è in grado di individuare tutti i colpevoli. Di certo, una cosa non esclude l’altra e la serie intende metterlo in rilievo, rinunciando al più facile lieto fine.

Per dare un giudizio complessivo, Tredici si conferma una serie tv a “circuito chiuso”, valida a trecentosessanta gradi solo per chi vive quel mondo oppure possiede una particolare empatia. Questo però non è un pregio, perché il vero pregio sarebbe stato riuscire a comunicare un dato tema ad un pubblico più ampio. D’altra parte, la serie si rivolge agli adolescenti e questo è il suo target primario. Per tale ragione, nel suo “sistema” la seconda stagione di Tredici è una storia solida, che si ripete raramente pur affrontando temi molto simili e che è in grado di rielaborare i concetti in vari modi.

Ci sono poi scene durissime (sopra a tutte la tortura dell’ultimo episodio), ma anche scene distensive e persino catartiche, come la “mega rissa” per il corridoio della scuola, che segna uno spartiacque significativo per la coscienza personale e collettiva delle vittime. Ciò nonostante, il finale si potrebbe persino definire inutile. Dall’inizio della stagione, infatti, chiunque comprende che tutto si concluderà con le armi, che quello è l’altro grande tema di cui bisogna parlare. Tutto però si sarebbe potuto concludere prima dell’episodio finale e il ballo tra Clay e i suoi amici avrebbe potuto degnamente concludere questa serie. Perché non dubitiamo che questi temi debbano essere ancora dibattuti a lungo affinché abbiano un peso sempre maggiore nella società, tuttavia riteniamo che questa particolare narrazione abbia compiuto la propria parabola.

[shannendoherty-fans]

Seventeen, December 1991

Shannen Gets Real

By Kevin Koffler. Photos by Wayne Stambler.

The star of TV's coolest show, Beverly Hills, 90210, claims she's just a normal twenty-year-old girl. Call us suspicious, but we had to find out what Shannen Doherty is really like.

Somehow the world has gotten out that Beverly Hills, 90210, is filming on location at the Palace Costume Company in Hollywood. By 4:00 in the afternoon,the place is surrounded by fans. Each time someone opens the shop's door and walks outside, heads crane for a look and a murmur rises up from the crowd.

Inside, however, the athmosphere is far from glamorous. Sweating in ninety-degree heat, Shannen Doherty and her castmates patiently shoot a scene over and over for an upcomig episode. Dressed in a tweed jacket, T-shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots, Shannen isn't as lucky as her TV boyfriend, Luke Perry, who gets to walk around without a shirt on.

When the director finally gets what he wants, the cast and crew break for lunch, and Shannen slips out the back door. While walking to her trailer she's spotted by a group of kids, who chase her down the street yelling, "Brenda, Brenda." A security guard intervenes just before she gets to her door, and once inside, shetakes a deep breath. "I have to deal with that every day," she explains. "It's all part of the job, but I'll never get used to it. I'm just this girl from Memphis, Tennessee, who wanted to be an actress." She sighs. "When I was ten I thouht it would be really cool for everyone to know my name. Now, in a way, it's overwhelming."

Although her fame is relatively new, Shannen's been acting since she was ten on various TV series. But people probably recognize her best as Heather Duke from the black comedy film Heathers.

On 90210, Shannen plays Brenda Walsh, a conservative midwestern girl who has been transplanted to the glitzy, glamorous world of Beverly Hills, California. "Brenda and I have little in common besides obvious things like the way we dress and our taste in boyfriends," Shannen says. Although she stresses that the cast members work well together, Shannen doesn't go so far as to say that they're all goodfriends. "I think everyone on the show has his or her problems," she says cautiously. "If I said I got along with everyone on the set, I'd be lying.Our relationships are created by our writer's imaginations, not by real life. It's funny because I'll go out and people will wask me, 'Hey, where's Dylan?' And I'll think, Dylan who?"

Of all of her coworkers, Shannen is closest to Jason Priestley, who plays her brother, Brandon. "We're very close," she says, smiling. "Weconfide in each other and look up to each other as actors. Even if we fight, which is rare, it's like a real-life brother/sister fight, and we make up really fast."

Offscreen, her closest confidant is her boyfriend, Chris, who sells real estate in Chicago. "Chris is my dream guy," she confides. "In a world that's not old-fashioned anymore, he is a real gentleman. I know that if the series or my career failed, Chris would still be there for me,and I would still be a happy person."

Since Shannen lives in Los Angeles and Chris lives in Chicago, they spend a lot fo time commuting, which is just fine with Shannen,who loves shopping for clothes in different cities. "I love men's clothing–big shirts and blazers," she says. "Armani is one of my favourite stores. In L.A. I shop at Fred Segal. In Chicago I go to Henri Bendel. And in New York I like Charivari. I haven't been to Paris yet, but just wait!"

Beside being in love and mulling over future projects, shannen is looking for a new house in Beverly Hills. She is also looking for a rottweiler for Chris. She owns three dogs–a black Labrador, a chocolate Labrador, and a golden retriever.

"My life is pretty wonderful now," she concludes. "The bottom line for me is that all the trappings are nice, but I'm not acting for the money or the fame–I'm doing it because I love to act. A fortune-teller once told me to follow my heart, come from a place of love, and all of my dreams would come true. I remind myself of that advice every orning, and so far it has never led me astray."

[stargazing-imagines]

What Dating Brandon Walsh would be like? *headcanon*

You would be new to West Beverly High

You would definitely be friends with Brenda

Him getting jealous everytime a guy talks to you or at least has a conversation with you

You getting jealous everytime girls talk to him

You struggling with trust issues because of him being a womanizer

But at the end of the day he’s all yours

Him being upset when you get accepted to your dream school

But on the inside he’s happy for you and wouldn’t hold you back on something that makes you happy

Being best friends with Steve

“Oh me and Steve are friends,” “really because I wasn’t aware of this”

Oh course Brandon being afraid that Steve will make a move on you

Listening to him reading his articles for the west Beverly blaze if it doesn’t sound right to him

Being supportive of him and Kelly when they start dating

This would cause you to find someone who makes you happy

Brandon finding out and interrogating him on how much he cares for you

“Listen Y/n is very special to me so if you break her heart... I won’t hesitate to find you,”

Overall him being a protective boyfriend and friend because that who he is

———

That all I can come up with so if it’s short I’m sorry anyway

Beverly Hills 90210 masterlist

[icelovesfire]

☆ Red is the Cruelest Colour In which a letter box, a hairbrush and a tube station led to their bitter end. Starring B/D in the imagined revelation of what the hell happened in London. One-Shot. --- 1/1 Chapters | 4,199 Words | Drama, Angst, Heartbreak | Mature ☆ FFN / AO3 ....................................................................... ☆ An Illumination Upon the Hills Following the events of "Red is the Cruelest Colour," London's talented Brenda Walsh has avoided Beverly Hills for the past twelve years. Much to Donna Silver's disappointment, she chose to skip the West Bev tenth year reunion. Her twin Brandon Walsh hasn't been seen since. The combination of one request and an urgent voicemail could change all of that. B/D, B/K, D/D, S/?, A/? --- 27/? Chapters | 145,534 Words | Family, Friendship, Female Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Male Friendship, Ensemble Cast, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Action/Adventure, Romance | Mature ☆ FFN / AO3 ....................................................................... ☆ Knight of the Canary In which Chico, Harpo and Groucho race to rescue a cat from a cracked canary. One-Shot. B/D, B/K, S. [Alternate ending for S04E29.] --- 1/1 Chapters | 6,913 Words | Drugs, References to Drugs, Kidnapping, Violence, Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort | Mature ☆ FFN / AO3 ....................................................................... ☆ The Seven Pieces of a Feuilleton The successful Brandon Walsh and his eminent sister Brenda have both sworn that they permanently shuttered the window of their pasts, but when an opulent masquerade initiates a question, the twins must return to face what they purposely left behind. Primarily B/D and B/K, with other members of the gang and their respective relationships scattered throughout. --- 17/? Chapters | 90,157 Words | Miscarriage, Violence, Drugs, References to Drugs, Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Action/Adventure, Romance | Mature | Alternate S05, S06, S07, S08, S09, S10 ☆ FFN / AO3

[graymatters]

Do I Make You Cringe?

Draco feels the tickle of the snitch’s wings brush his palm as he shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his robes and saunters towards the tunnel leading off the pitch. The roar of the crowd fades to crackling static as he passes through the unpleasant sting of the security wards surrounding the team’s facilities.

The Falmouth Falcons’ pitch-black quidditch stadium towers threateningly above ground while the teams’ training facilities branch like catacombs below. A pervasive feeling of pins and needles briefly pulses up and down his limbs but disappears as he weaves through the meandering halls towards the press room.

Draco finds his teammates sitting along a table in front of the small gaggle of journalists who were lucky enough to get a press pass. Still on edge from the heat of the match, Draco chooses to lean against the black wall behind the row of quidditch players dressed in dark gray. The atmosphere is lighter than usual, coming off their third straight win, but still holds a characteristic unease that the bastards of the British and Irish Quidditch League can’t shake. The Falcons rarely disappoint to provide material worth a front page byline the following morning.

“Mr. Mayfield, tell us about your strategy as captain heading into this match. How did your team prepare for the Canons?” a thin, middle-aged man asks from the back. Draco is hardly listening. Instead he focuses on smoothing his fingertips over the delicate wings of the snitch attempting to escape his right pocket.

Brandon Mayfield’s lips spread into a nasty grin before he answers, voice raspy from directing his teammates in the pouring rain the last four hours, “Oh, Martin, that’s your name right? Well, Martin, we all started with a song circle this morning. Walsh here played the guitar; Harry is such a beautiful singer, you wouldn’t imagine. And then we had a lovely brunch and hoped the best team won.”

The room is awkwardly quiet except for a few sniggers from the team, amplified by their tampered-down sonorous charms. Mayfield waits patiently, allowing the discomfort to mellow a little longer before continuing, “Ah, didn’t fool you, did I, Martin? Smart man, you are. We slaughtered a goat on the full moon last week, for luck. But, more importantly, we all wake up every day, dedicated to the wise motto that’s been instilled in our hearts by our fearless leader.” He glances over to Coach Callahan, who rolls his eyes and brushes a dripping wet lock of gray hair from his face.

“Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads!” Levi Walsh cheers from the middle of the table. He and a few others pound their fists on the table, the noise echoing loudly in the enclosed space. Draco shakes his head, bored by the theatrics.

Harry Potter appears from the dark hallway to lean against the doorway, dropping his bat carelessly to the floor. He’s already discarded his robes, revealing the tight charcoal undershirt that hugs the sharp muscles of his stomach and biceps. Draco, attention captured, nearly releases the snitch. Harry grins wryly at Draco, fully cognizant of Draco’s lingering stare.

Read the rest on AO3.

My third entry for @gameofdrarry‘s Drarropoly 2020. 

Many thanks to @ladyedwinya for the beta!!

[vonnyphant]

To Blog or Not to Blog?

“You should start a diary and write about your experiences. It may help people going through the same thing.”

Honestly? If there’s one thing I discovered about this diagnosis, it’s that it makes me pretty damn selfish. I don’t want to help other people (not just yet, anyway). But putting some thoughts down about this time in my life may be of some sort of therapeutic value, and I do want to help myself. 

(Maybe for once, saving the world can wait. Do you remember how, soon after the pandemic hit, people stopped avoiding plastic and single-use items? When your health is at risk, suddenly rainforests and polar bears and the planet are deprioritised- not that anyone will admit to this. But this is my diary and I can say what I want!* Writing for myself it is.)

Having established my less-than-Mother-Theresa-like reasons for this blog, my conscience cleared, it’s time to start. This is where the Lifetime movie shows me, in a half daze, mellowed out on drugs while they sew a mediport into my chest to start administering chemicals. A fast lane to my bloodstream. A docking station. The soundtrack? Hopefully ‘Across The Universe’ by the Beatles (possibly Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. If I get a say in it, I veto The Walrus) Time to pump this body full of drugs that’ll make my hair fall out. 

Wait, what?

Voice Over: “Yep. That’s me. You’re probably wondering what I am doing here…” //record scratch - freeze frame - fast rewind to the psychedelic outtro of A Day In The Life//

Two months ago, during rub-a-dub-in-the-tub (less naughty than it sounds, was just washing myself), my mind inexplicably went to an episode of Beverly Hills 90210, s1 (aired in 1992- yes, I am that old), where Brenda Walsh has a breast cancer scare. I say inexplicably, because my usual shower fantasies do not include Ms Shannon Doherty - if I was going to pick a shower lady, I’d opt for Charlize Theron, Kiera Knightly or Winona Ryder in their short-hair phases, but that is neither here nor there. 

Say what you want for 90s television- weird outfits and ponytails notwithstanding, in their AfterSchoolSpecial PSA way, they dedicated a whole scene to the girls giving themselves a breast exam, including how-to instructions**, and eventhough I was only 11 years old when I saw it, I remembered what to do, and for the last 30 years, every now and then I have randomly carried it out while wondering how I always preferred Brandon over Dylan and how my tastes have changed over time.

But this time - my hand actually found something.

I took a deep breath and calmed myself down the same way I did after finding spots on my skin, lumps on my head and every time I sneezed since covid-19; by telling myself to fucking snap out of my hypochondria tendencies. One cannot go to the doctor every damn day after all. Breast tissue is pretty lumpy and I assumed it was just imaginary. I made an appointment to see a therapist, and  put it out of my mind until a few weeks later, when one of the kids came crashing down on me (literally) and faceplanted in my boob (as they do). 

Now this always hurts af, but it just hurt that little more that day, so that I grabbed the appendage in question and went “WHAT THE--!” And I felt it again- the lump, more defined than a few weeks before. 

Cue a lot more freaking out than the first time, and after a sleepless night, imagining what my funeral would look like (as one does), I decided to go to the gynocologist the same day or risk never to sleep again.

After a long wait and an ultrasound, my doctor assured me that while there really was a mass, it had every indication of being benign. We should keep an eye on it. If I was worried, I could schedule a second screening, but would not likely get an appointment before April. I scheduled one and tried to focus on preparing our first lockdown Christmas. 

But over the holidays, the lump started hurting, even when I wasn’t poking it or having a kid catapult themselves into my chest. I’d be Netflix and Chilling, and suddenly - ZAP - like someone stuck a hot needle into it. Repeatedly. My nipple would go numb or start tingling like a bodypart that fell asleep. It freaked me out, and in the new year, I realised I couldn’t wait until April - I had to get it checked out again or I may worry myself to death.

My gynocologist did another ultrasound and again, told me not to worry. I told her it was way too late for that as I had been worried for weeks, and I wanted the thing biopsied (they gave Brenda Walsh one too, after all! It’s the only way to be 100% sure). She referred me to the hospital. At the description of my symptoms, I could come directly, and the radiologist told me in no unclear terms: “I will not let you leave this room until we draw blood and take several biopsies.” Okay- not exactly what one wants to hear at that point, but at the same time, I figured knowing would be better than guessing by the shape of it.

Test results took a week. I went in, being prepared to be told (like Brenda) it was a harmless clump of random cells or a cyst we could have removed like a wart. Only it wasn’t. It was breast cancer, an aggressive, fast-growing kind, and had I waited until April, that could have had disastrous consequences.

While the doctor explained we now needed to determine the scope of the spread and take more tissue to determine what kind of chemo (if any) could be applied, all my 2020-PTSD brain could think was: 

“.............of course”. 

Didn’t hear much of what she said afterwards.

Another harrowing 4 days went by, with a CT screening with contrast solutions that gave me an intense stomach ache as well as a migraine, and finally, a fully rounded diagnosis and treatment advice could be made. 

Thankfully, all my organs as well as lymphnodes were clear, so it appears to be a localised tumor. And here we are - to fight this thing with chemicals and then cut out whatever is left. Genetics testing to see about the likelihood of a recurrency (and a possible double mastectomy if so - ‘pulling an Angelina Jolie’, ‘not saving the tatas’, insert ‘Think About It meme’...can’t have breast cancer if you don’t have breasts! THINK ABOUT IT***). 

Chances are good. I need to cling to that while I wait for this port and treatment to start. I have accepted the inevitable hair loss, have scheduled a ritual ‘crazy hair cutting party’ with my kids for this weekend (as I would rather shave it off in one go than clean up clumps and strands over the course of weeks and look like Gollum), and I have sewn several funny little hats for inside wear and ‘going out’ (though where will I be going in pandemic, idk). 

I was going to end this post on a light and happy note - but I must admit my confidence just took a really big hit in real time, as I googled how to spell Shannon’s last name for this blog entry and found out that she was treated for breast cancer in 2015, initially succesfully, but it reappeared metastasized in 2020 (again: ‘of course...when else’) and she is now in stage IV. Fuck 2020.

What are the odds that the woman whose character made me discover my own breast cancer is now, in fact, dying of the same disease? This will surely haunt me for a long time to come.

More tomorrow? Or soon? It may take a while. Until then: outro to It’s Getting Better.

*also for the record I would like to state that I’ve sewn my own masks from upcycled pillowcases and continued using fruit- and vegetable nets to avoid plastic; maybe that makes up for me being utterly selfish at the moment. Karma +1?

** https://youtu.be/pkgYXITkrfw (the scene from BH 90210)

***cis men / trans women without breasts can also get breast cancer (even though it’s rare) so this meme doesn’t really hold up, but that’s the whole point of the meme ;)

[winchester90210]

The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x15: Palm Springs (AKA A Fling in Palm Springs)

Rewrite Masterlist

Read the previous chapter here!

Chapter Summary: The gang heads to Palm Springs for President’s day weekend.

Warnings: swearing probably, lots of fluffy feelings, mentions of sex. 

Words: 2,900

My work is not to be reposted and/or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is fine and encouraged!!!)

Feedback is incredibly appreciated!

A/N: Hope everyone enjoys this week’s episode! We are going to be skipping the next one but Laverne the gum-chomping waitress WILL make an appearance at some point in the series, so don’t worry. Next week the reader moves out with Brenda and deals with Class President election!

-

“You’re really gonna stay and work all weekend?” You launch yourself backwards onto the kitchen counter, the cold marble against your legs, “Kelly says anybody who’s anybody goes to Palm Springs.”

“You’re talking to Kelly again?” Your brother cocks an eyebrow at you as he cuts himself a brownie, stuffing half of it into his mouth. 

“Well, no… Kelly told Brenda who told me— but what does it matter?” You steal the brownie pan from his other hand, and place it out of his reach, “Just because it’s from a secondary source doesn’t mean it’s not true. It’s a ritual. Like the geese flying south or something.” 

“How do you expect to get there? It’s not like you have a car, or a bike, or can afford a plane ticket.” You stay silent for a moment, then give him a pleading, rosy smile. “Oh, no. No! You’re not taking Duke to Palm Springs.” Duke was Eric’s beloved cherry red ‘48 Ferrari. It was given to him on his eighteenth birthday, previously loved and adored by your father, and his father before that and blah blah blah. 

“Please? I always take good care of it!” You beg, “I’ll even fill up the tank when I get back! What is it, a dollar per gallon?”

“Sorry. No way. You’ll have to ask Brenda,” he shrugs stubbornly, reaching around you and swiping the pan while you're preoccupied with the argument. 

“I can’t! She’s riding with Kelly!”

“Then ask Brandon— look, this isn’t my problem, Y/N/N. Either find another ride or don’t go.”

-

“It has the original interior, the original grille work. It’s gorgeous,” Brandon enthuses, slipping his hand under your shirt and to your sides as you both lie in the backseat of Mondale, mid make-out session. Well, you were making out. Until he decided to stop it to talk about that car he wanted. Like guys often do.  “and it’s only twenty-five thousand dollars.” 

“Twenty-five thousand? Brandon! No wonder your dad won’t buy you that thing. Dads are cheapskates, It’s just a fact of life.” 

“Dylan‘s dad bought him a Porsche.”

“Babe, Dylan’s dad is facing a grand jury indictment,” you stifle a giggle as you pop a button off of his shirt. 

“But my dad knows how hard I work,” Brandon grumbles, “And to top it all off, last night Nat told me that I can’t go to Palm Springs this weekend with you, and all of my friends because his sister is sick and now I have to work all weekend. But hey, you don’t hear me complaining, do ya?”

“Yes. Yes I do.” 

-

“Hey there!” You’re greeted  almost immediately by Brandon upon entering the Peach Pit, who’s over at the far end of the counter with a little blond boy. “What a nice surprise. I thought you’d be in packing mode for your trip… but knowing you, you packed early, didn’t you?”

“Always do,” you nod, taking the seat in front of him. You hand Brandon a modest wad of cash and kiss his cheek, making him smile. He mumbles a thanks as he stuffs it into his pocket and hands you a menu. 

“Hey… do you ever get the feeling that the entire world is flying in first class, and you’re stuck with a folding chair in the baggage compartment?” He takes your hand in his, leaning over the counter. 

“Never,” you deadpan. He studies your face, causing you to giggle into his shoulder. 

“Liar!” He laughs genuinely, his eyes crinkling at the edges,“you total liar!”  He straightens himself out, “This is Curtis.” He gestures to the adorable little boy beside you, “the hangout king of Beverly Hills.”

“It’s a free country, I can hang out if I want!” The little boy whines. 

“Hey, hey, relax, sport. No one said you couldn’t… but does your mom know how much time you spend here?”

“She’s the one that brung me! I told her the food’s not that good," Curtis criticizes, mowing down a plate of greasy french fries. 

“See what I have to put up with to make a buck?” Brandon teases, grabbing a plate of food from the kitchen and dashing off to deliver it to a table. Once he’s gone, Curtis turns his stool to you. 

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Oh! Well, uh… no. But he’s… not not my boyfriend,” you waffle. Curtis narrows his eyes, confused. “Look, it’s complicated, kid."

“You give him that friendship bracelet he’s wearing?” 

“Yeah, actually… he told you about that?” 

The kid dodges your question, chewing on the straw of his drink, “Why aren’t you wearing one?”

“It's a long story, Curtis. Certainly one you don't have time for, okay?" 

"I got plenty of time." 

-

You couldn’t ride with your brother, you couldn’t ride with Brandon, there’s no way in hell you’re riding with Steve… that left one option. Brenda, Kelly, and Donna. 

“Donna,” Kelly giggles, “we’re not going to Europe. You don’t need three bags!”

“Kelly, I have to dress according to the guys we meet. I mean— high school guys, college guys, grad school guys, dropout guys— you cannot dress the same for all guys. No,” Donna shakes her head disapprovingly, like she just dropped a fashion truth-bomb on all three of you. To be honest, though, she kind of did. 

“I guess she has a point,” you laugh, propping yourself up against a locker, “Bring everything.” 

Then Steve saunters over, in his usual confusingly patterned button-down, an agitated look spread across his face. He nods down to the innumerable bags on the floor. 

“What, are we going to France?” He scoffs, only taking a moment before continuing, “Will you guys come on? There’s gonna be a lot of traffic on the roads." Gee, wonder what’s making him so delightful this afternoon.

“Hey gang!” Oh no. David Silver? What was he doing here? “Are we going to have a blast or what? Huh?” We? 

The rest of the group is just as lost as you are, exchanging silent looks of terror to the person next to them. Steve takes note of this and clears his throat.

“There’s been a uh, slight change in plans.”

-

“It’s weird, I mean I want to be with Dylan and everything, but part of me just wants to get it over with. Like I’m the last person that hasn’t done it yet." Brenda confides uneasily as you all stand against Kelly’s convertible, waiting as the tank fills up.

“Brenda… you are,” Kelly replies. 

“No you’re not!" You assure her,  "Look, Bren, you’re really gonna like it… I think." Ha. Like you know any more than she does. Donna nods in agreement. 

“Yeah, totally… probably. Maybe? I—“ 

Kelly cuts Donna off, “Listen, who would you rather be with? Dylan McKay or David Silver?” 

“Bren, Dylan’s a wonderful guy. You’re gonna have a great time! And you brought protection, so there’s nothing to be worried about!” You place a soothing hand on her arm. 

“Right!” Brenda smiles, “I mean, I care about him, he cares about me, it’s gonna be great, right?”

-

“My grandparents collect anything they can get their hands on,” David guides the four of you, sans Brenda plus Steve, as you wander his grandparents' house. It’s definitely nice, definitely big… kinda smells like patchouli and sunscreen in the best way. “When I was younger I used to travel with them but my dad’s mad at them about something so I don’t see ‘em much anymore.” 

“What’s he mad about?” Donna asks. 

“Well, my grandparents like my mom and think it’s, y’know, bad he wants to divorce her... Come on,” he waves you all over to him as he escapes through the back door, “I saved the best for last.” You reluctantly follow behind him, your shoes clacking down the concrete steps and into the depths of his backyard. It was gorgeous— a huge pool, palm trees, brick-lined lounging areas. You could get used to this. 

“Dude, we are definitely styling out here in this little desert oasis,” Steve grins, “David, I always knew you had potential.” No you didn’t. 

“Thanks, Steve,” David begins to venture further back, “but you ain’t seen nothin’ yet! Look, if anyone gets in the mood, you climb up this little terrace here to this hidden nook and nobody will bother you.” You step up another flight of brick-lined concrete stairs and through a small patch of greenery, to be met with a cute little private hot tub… with people in it. 

“David?” The old woman gasps, clutching her small champagne flute.

“Grandma?” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” The senior man, presumably (and hopefully) his grandfather groans.

-

“It was an amaaaazing trip!” David’s grandmother raves, pouring pretzels into a glass bowl as the group is gathered around the kitchen island. 

“It was indescribable,” his grandfather agrees excitedly, “we would dance every night under the stars.” He pulls Kelly from her stool, picking her up and spinning her around as if they were about to tango. 

“Ooh! Can somebody pull the ice cream?” His grandma asks.

“Yeah, sure,” Donna smiles.

“Triple. Chocolate. Chip. I mean, If we’re gonna do it, we should do it right.” Steve chuckles politely at the woman, though he looks like he wants to put a gun to his head. 

“Well, I’ve never seen so many old fogies on one boat in my whole life. I mean, a floating rest home is what it was!” His grandpa laughs heartily, getting ice cream bowls from the cupboard, 

“Oh, Henry, that’s not so. But hey, one day we woke up on the boat and we both said ‘Let’s go home!’” Funny. That’s exactly what you were thinking. “I mean, we missed our little house in the desert.” 

“We sure did,” Henry smiles happily, grabbing his wife’s jaw gently and planting a big smooch on her. “And lucky for us, we would have missed you if we didn’t cut our trip short!” 

“Uh, well you guys must be really tired. Huh?” David chuckles awkwardly. 

“Oh, we’re exhausted!” The woman nods, “but hey, who cares? I am so excited to see you! And to finally meet some of your friends! Hey! Why don’t we all stay up late, chow down on the snacks, and get to know each other?” Oh, joy. 

-

“This way ladies,” David’s grandma guides the three of you upstairs, her hand on your shoulder. “You’re gonna go up these stairs, down the hall, first door on your right, and you are gonna love it.” You hop up the steps with Kelly and Donna, bags in hand. 

“Did you guys hear her?” Kelly starts, opening the door to the room and throwing her bags on an empty bed. Hey, she acknowledged you. That’s a start. “She said she was gonna invite all the cute guys from the neighborhood over to the pool tomorrow!”

“Steve is not gonna like that,” Donna 

“Oh, who cares?” Kelly snickers, “I wonder how Brenda’s doing.” 

“‘Oh! Dylan, what beautiful eyes you have!’” You joke, throwing your hand to your forehead and bowing backwards. 

“‘Oh, Brenda, you are so exquisite!’” Donna joins in, giggling. 

“Barf.”

-

You splash your feet in the Silver's pool, crowds of people surrounding it. Overwhelmed by the vast amount of new people, you're off by yourself, kicking the water around, staring at your feet. 

"You know, there's room on this raft for two." You look up to Steve, lying back on a giant inflatable alligator. Ugh, if only it was a real one. 

"Why don't you ask your new girlfriends?" You point behind you to the two girls, who you could only think to describe as biker babes, lounging together. Porcelain white skin, spiked black bikinis, way more makeup than you need for a pool party. "They look pretty interested."

"Can you imagine what it would be like if you were interested? You know, me instead of Brandon?" You feign a gag, shaking your head. 

"I don't really want to, Steve," you cringe dramatically as he chuckles, "but thanks for getting that thought haunting my dreams forever. Really appreciate it."

"Remember—" He wags his pointer finger at your face, eyes narrowing lightheartedly, "I saw you first." He puts his foot flat against the concrete wall of the pool, kicking off, but as soon as he's far enough— he guffaws. Of course he laughs at his own jokes. 

-

"Dylan, hi!" You practically leap over to him in the foyer, your damp feet leaving faint footprints on the cold floor.  "So?" 

He shakes his head, brows furrowed ever so slightly, "So?" 

"How'd it go?" You raise your eyebrows excitedly. 

"How'd what go?" 

"With Brenda!" He groans at that. 

"Don't ask."

"Well, it's too late, I already did." 

"What's with you girls?" Oh, this should be good. "You see a guy with another girl and you immediately think they're sleeping with her?! What is that?! I mean, every time a female customer goes into the Pit-- do you lose it at Brandon?" 

"Can't say I do. They usually want him. But thankfully it's not the other way around… look, if this is about the other Walsh-- and McKay, it better be, or else I have questions-- just talk to her about it. Have an adult conversation." 

"Easy for you to say, you're dating the king of good family values. The kid's a Hartley House episode." 

-

You open the fridge in the kitchen, helping David’s grandparents scoop out ice cream. You fidget with the scoop in your hands before setting it down. After a devastating loss of Charades, you had to comfort your friends with ice cream. It was the only option, really. 

“How do you guys do it?” They both look up from the bowls to stare at you. “The whole long-term relationship thing,” you clarify. “It’s just so… scary.”

“You’re right,” Henry nods, “It’s very scary. Trusting someone, with your heart, your intimate feelings. I mean, before we got married, Adele broke up with me seven different times. Running for the hills was our solution to every problem. Giving yourself to that person— trusting that they’re going to cherish you, to value you and every intimate part of yourself— that is the hardest thing.”

Adele jumps in, “And you have to accept each other for who you are. For every flaw and every perfection, you have to let the other person be who they are. But when you do find the person you can really be yourself with, who you can have fun with, and fully trust… it is the greatest feeling in the world.” She takes the scoop from in front of you and begins scooping. “Who is he? It’s not David, is it?”

You giggle, “No. No, it’s not David. His name’s Brandon, he’s—“ you can’t stop a grin from slowly breaking out on your face, “He’s great. He’s kind, and considerate, and totally crazy about me... but it’s still scary, y’know? My last relationship didn’t exactly end on great terms. And if I barely even liked the other guy but I was still totally obliterated by it ending… I can’t imagine how I’d feel with Brandon. I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life. I guess you can imagine how much of a major scare that is, huh?”

“Seven break-ups, sweetheart. I can imagine.”

-

"He even set up a meal plan for the kid! I can show you the security cameras if you want to see them," Nat indulges. You never thought you’d say this, but you were thrilled to be back in Beverly Hills. You missed your own bed, the Peach Pit… the cute waiter at the Peach Pit. And you’re thrilled to be eating something that isn’t ice cream. 

"Oh, don't you dare! I cannot handle any more of that guy being good with kids or else he's gonna get me to procreate with him-- and nobody wants a bunch of  little Walshes running around here," you snort, stirring your water mindlessly with the straw. Nat shrugs as he picks up an order.

“I could use the extra help!” As per usual, he booms out in laughter, walking away with the plate of food. 

“What’s he so happy about?” You twist your head to the kitchen and you’re faced with your overtly-paternal and charitable lover. 

 “Oh, it’s nothing. Just you fathering a sweet little homeless boy for the weekend,” you have to halt yourself from fawning over him. He’s probably the only teenage boy that would tolerate a little kid, let alone help them out like he did. 

“He told you about that?”

“You mean how you not only befriended the little boy, but fed him for free, and made sure that his whole family would stay fed until they got back on their feet? Yeah, he might’ve. I mean I laughed, I cried— it was the feel-good story of the year, B.” He smiles at his feet as he ties his apron around his waist. 

“I really missed you this weekend, Y/N/N.” 

“Well, I’m here to stay now,” you smile as he kisses the top of your head. 

“I’m a real lucky guy, you know that?”

“That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing.” 

-

-

-

-

-

Taglist: @be-patient-be-good​ @mpmarypoppins​ @bevelyhills90210​ @blueoz​ @harleylilo88​ @princess-ghost-alien​ @hueycat2004​ @l4life​ @keepcalm-and-beyou​ @palefiregiver​ @bitch-imma-head-out​

[fangirl-imagines]

90210 Masterlist

Brandon Walsh:

Afternoons at the Peach Pit

Imagine dancing with Brandon at senior prom

Imagine graduating with the West Bev’ class of ‘93

Dylan McKay:

Dating Dylan McKay would include...

Jealous Dylan McKay headcanons

Steve Sanders- None Yet

David Silver:

Imagine David dancing to try and cheer you up

Kelly Taylor:

Imagine Brenda and Kelly cheering you on as you ask out your crush

Brenda Walsh:

Imagine helping Brenda pack for drama school

Donna Martin:

Imagine helping Donna plan her wedding to David

Imagine gossiping with Donna

Andrea Zukerman- None Yet

[teachingmycattoread]

Things We’ve Yelled About This Episode #14

His Majesty’s Dragon (Temeraire), Naomi Novik

This meme

Throne of Jade, Naomi Novik (Book 2 of the Temeraire series)

Spinning Silver, Naomi Novik

A Monstrous Regiment, AMarguerite (ao3)

Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen

“[The dragon] blinked at him; he noticed its eyes were a deep blue and slit-pupilled, and then it said, ‘Why are you frowning?’[...] Laurence stared at the dragon, at the pale, frightened boy, and then took a deep breath and said to the creature, ‘I beg your pardon, I did not mean to. My name is Will Laurence; and yours?’” Part I Chapter One

Hogwarts, Harry Potter, JK Rowling (unlike JK Rowling, this podcast supports trans rights - here are a few ways you can, too: Mermaids, Gendered Intelligence, TransgenderNI)

Black Sails (TV)

Daemons, His Dark Materials, Phillip Pullman (wiki)

soulmate/soulbond trope (tvtropes)

“The flight back was a little slower than the one out, and Rankin spoke coldly to Levitas when they landed. Past the point of caring if it seemed rude, Laurence interrupted with praised and patted Levitas”, Part II Chapter Six

intricate rituals (meme)

Newton's Principia Mathematica (wiki)

Batman: I am not a father figure - reference to this post

"Spare the rod, beat the child" - M is conflating the saying “Spare the rod, spoil the child” which comes from Proverbs 23:13, and “Use the rod, beat the child”, which is a quote from Ms Trunchbull in the movie Matilda

“ ‘I would rather see a dragon dead than in his hands,’ Laurence said, setting down his glass hard. ‘Sir, if you want a man who will be a credit to the service, send Mr Hollin; I would vouch with my life for him.’ ‘What, your ground crew master?’ Lenton frowned at him, but thoughtfully. ‘That is a thought, if you think him suited for the task; he could not feel he was hurting his career by such a step. Not a gentleman, I suppose.’ ‘No, sir, unless by gentleman you mean a man of honour rather than breeding,’ Laurence said.” Part III Chapter 12

“Bedford came to stand and look with him, in what Laurence took as companionable silence; after a moment Bedford said, ‘I suppose he is a valuable animal and we must be glad to have him, but it is appalling you should be chained to such a life, and in such company.’ Laurence could not immediately command the power of speech in response to this remark so full of sincere pity; half a dozen answers all crowded to his lips. He drew a breath that shook in his throat and said in a low, savage voice, ‘Sir, you will not speak to me in such terms, either of Temeraire or of my colleagues; I wonder that you could imagine such an address acceptable.’” Part III Chapter 10

“By the aviators’ request, the musicians had been set at the very edge of the pavilion, where the dragons could gather around outside to listen. The musicians had been at first somewhat distressed by the notion and inclined to edge their chairs away, but as the evening wore on and the dragons proved a more appreciative audience than the noisy crowd of society, their fear was gradually overcome by their vanity. Laurence came out to find the first violinist having abandoned the orchestra entirely and playing snatches of various airs in a rather didactic manner for the dragons, demonstrating the work of different composers.” Part III Chapter Twelve

How To Train Your Dragon, 2010 (trailer)

What Else Are We Reading?

The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying, Marie Kondo

End Times, Bryan Walsh

Clouds of Witness, Dorothy L Sayers

As My Wimsey Takes Me (podcast)

The Care and Feeding of Waspish Widows, Olivia Waite

A Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics, Olivia Waite

Rhythm of War, Brandon Sanderson

Next Time on Teaching My Cat To Read:

The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien

Correction: next time will be Temeraire 2: The Temerairening, in which we talk about all the things we loved about His Majesty's Dragon that we didn't get to this time.

[weirdletter]

Revenant, Issue 5: Folk Horror. Edited by Ruth Heholt, guest editor: Dawn Keetley, March 2020. Info and free download: revenantjournal.com.

Revenant is a peer reviewed e-journal dedicated to the study of the supernatural, the uncanny and the weird in any form and in any period. Committed to the scholarly, academic and creative exploration of the supernatural in its multiple, variable and fantastic forms this inter-disciplinary journal encourages discussion about the supernatural or the weird in literature, history, folklore, philosophy, science, religion, sociology and all aspects of popular culture. All areas of discussion are welcome and we invite for example discussions of classic Victorian ghost stories, articles about Shakespeare’s ghosts, standing stones, architecture, film, television, games or new media. Revenant promotes new writing on the supernatural, the uncanny and the weird and we are looking to publish ghost stories, tales of the extraordinary, poems and nature writing. Encouraging a cross-theoretical approach the super-natural may also be explored in relation to gender, sexuality, spirituality, post-colonialism, Marxism or eco-criticism. Revenant emphasises that the ‘natural’ is part of the super-natural and continues a long tradition of both serious and imaginative investigation.

Contents:

EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION – Dawn Keetley, Lehigh University

Articles A FEAR OF THE FOLK: ON TOPOPHOBIA AND THE HORROR OF RURAL LANDSCAPES – James Thurgill, The University of Tokyo FOLK HORROR, OSTENSION AND ROBIN REDBREAST – Diane A. Rodgers, Sheffield Hallam University IDENTITY AND FOLK HORROR IN JULIAN RICHARDS’ DARKLANDS – Cary Edwards, Boston College, UK ‘A LOST, HAZY DISQUIET’: SCARFOLK, HOOKLAND, AND THE ‘HAUNTED GENERATION’ – David Sweeney, The Glasgow School of Art FOLK HORROR IN THE OZARKS: THE GENRE HYBRIDITY OF DEBRA GRANIK’S WINTER’S BONE – Beth Kattelman, The Ohio State University SUPERNATURAL FOLKLORE IN THE BLAIR WITCH FILMS: NEW PROJECT, NEW PROOF – Peter Turner, Oxford Brookes University COLONISING THE DEVIL’S TERRITORIES: THE HISTORICITY OF PROVIDENTIAL NEW ENGLAND FOLKLORE IN THE VVITCH – Brendan C. Walsh, University of Queensland DREAMING OF LEVIATHAN: JOHN LANGAN’S THE FISHERMAN AND AMERICAN FOLK HORROR – Alexandra Hauke, University of Passau

Creative Work CAMPUS VISIT – D.K. Picariello, Writer

Reviews INTERVIEW WITH ADAM NEVILL, AUTHOR OF THE RITUAL (2011) – Dawn Keetley, Lehigh University THE GOTHIC AND THE CARNIVALESQUE IN AMERICAN CULTURE BY TIMOTHY JONES – Christopher M. Flavin, Northeastern State University FOLK HORROR: HOURS DREADFUL AND THINGS STRANGE BY ADAM SCOVELL & FOLK HORROR REVIVAL: FIELD STUDIES (SECOND EDITION) EDITED BY ANDY PACIOREK, GREY MALKIN, RICHARD HING AND KATHERINE PEACH – Paul Gorman, Writer WITCHFINDER GENERAL BY IAN COOPER – Brandon Grafius, Ecumenical Theological Seminary HAUNTED LANDSCAPES: SUPER-NATURE AND THE ENVIRONMENT, RUTH HEHOLT AND NIAMH DOWNING (EDITORS) – Janine Hatter, University of Hull STARVE ACRE BY ANDREW MICHAEL HURLEY – Dawn Keetley, Lehigh University MODERN GHOST MELODRAMAS: WHAT LIES BENEATH BY MICHAEL WALKER – Murray Leeder, University of Calgary BEAUTIFUL DARKNESS BY FABIEN VEHLMANN AND KERASCOËT; TRANS. HELGE DASCHER – Daniel Pietersen, Independent Scholar AMERICAN GOTHIC CULTURE: AN EDINBURGH COMPANION, JOEL FAFLAK AND JASON HASLAM (EDITORS) – Jillian Wingfield, University of Hertfordshire FOLK HORROR IN THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY CONFERENCE REPORT – Dorka Tamás, University of Exeter

Notes on Contributors