#exhibits that belong in museums that you want to take photos with

[theghostofashton]

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[sarahsmi13s]

Lieutenant Rogers - pt 1

Call Sign ‘Star’

pairings: romantic!neil ‘omaha’ vikander x rogers!reader, platonic!dagger squad x rogers!reader, plantonic!sam wilson x rogers!reader, platonic!bucky barnes x rogers!reader

characters: y/n rogers, neil vikander, the entire dagger squad (admirals and captain included), penny benjamin, sam wilson, bucky barnes, james rhodes (this chapter only), john walker, lemar hoskins, misc. characters from both universes

warnings: language, blood, fighting, sexual inuendoes, john walker, cannon dangers, cannon deaths, suggestive themes, if i miss any please let me know

word count: ~3.2k

a/n: if you couldn’t already tell, i’m OBSESSED with crossovers. reader is the daughter of steve rogers, and has the super soldier serum as well

sources: Top Gun: Maverick (2022) , The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

summary: 13 pilots were called back to Top Gun in 2023. at the same time, Lieutenant Rogers learns that her father’s shield was passed down to John Walker. 

reader’s call sign: ‘star’

pt 2  pt 3  pt 4  pt 5  pt 6

**************

You stared at Sam from your spot leaning on your bar. “Say something.” “Why? Why do you want to give me the shield?” “Because you're his child, Y/N. It should belong to you.” You shook your head, “No, Sam, he gave it to you. It’s yours.” “Yes, which is why I am now giving it to you. If it’s mine I can do what I want with it.” 

You rubbed your face, “Sam, I can’t take up the mantle. Dad wanted you to take it over, and I agree with him.” “Why can’t you take it?” “Because I'm on active duty, and the Navy is where I belong.” Sam hung his head.

“I can’t fill his shoes. This shield- it means something to so many people. Me included. But Steve gave it that meaning. I’m gonna let him down.” You sighed and pulled Sam out of his chair. “Sam, I won’t begin to understand why you feel that way. You could never let him down.” You hugged him, “He trusted you with it. And I do too. I know you’ll only do what you think is best.” 

He hugged you back, sighing as he looked at the photo on your mantle in your house and the folded flag in its protective box. Sam wrapped his arms a little tighter around you before letting go.

“I’ll let you get back to getting ready. Have a good night Y/N.” He walked past you to the door. “Sam, wait!” 

He stopped with his hand on the handle, “You sure you don’t want to stay? I’m sure Neil wouldn’t mind you staying for dinner.” He shook his head, “I’ve got plans tonight, but maybe some other time.” You nodded, “Okay. Call me if you need anything. Love ya Sam!” “Love you too kid!”

*************

When Sam told you that his plan was to turn the shield over to the museum for the Captain America exhibit, you weren’t happy. But you realized that this was what Sam thought was best, what he thought was right. You trusted Sam, so you supported him.

He asked you to be there at the ceremony, for support and reassurance. So, that’s what you did, with permission from your superiors of course. 

Wearing your dress blues, you stood right next to Rhodey. “Lieutenant Rogers.” “Colonel Rhodes.” He sighed, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m surprised to see you here.” “Is that because I’m on active duty, or because of a more personal thing, sir?” He chuckled, “Bit of both.” You sighed, “I’m here to support Sam. I know he needs it from me. He sure as hell isn’t getting it from Bucky.” 

“Has he even talked to Bucky since the funeral?” You shook your head, “I don’t think so.” “Have you?” “I’ve tried. I’m not sure he wants to talk to me.” Rhodey just nodded.

Sam stepped up to the podium, “Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered posing stoically.” The crowd chuckled. “The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil.” 

Sam paused and tears burned the backs of your eyes. “We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we’re in.” He looked at you and you gave him a reassuring smile. 

“Symbols… are nothing without the men and women that give them meaning,” he nodded down to the shield. “And this thing,” he chuckled fondly and picked it up. “I don’t know if there’s ever been a greater symbol. But it’s more about the man who propped it up, and he’s gone.” 

You exhaled shakily and looked down, your standard bun not allowing your hair to cover your face. 

Sam looked at you before continuing, “So, today we honor Steve’s legacy. But also, we look to the future.” You looked up and made eye contact with Sam, him giving you a small smile; almost as if to say, You’re his legacy and you are the future.

He looked at the banner behind him. “So, thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you…” You walked up to be beside Sam as they placed the shield in its display case. Cameras flashing everywhere. You both clinched your jaws. 

To him, this was to honor Steve. But to you, this was like you were truly putting him to rest, and you really didn’t know how to feel.

Afterwards you, Rhodey, and Sam were talking with some government official (that’s literally what the IMDb says). “Thanks again for comin’ forward with the shield, Sam. It was the right decision.” They shook hands and he walked away, nodding to you as he left.

Your phone rang, “I’m sorry, I need to take this.” Both nodded and watched you walk away. “This is Lieutenant Rogers.” Out of the corner of your eye you saw Rhodey and Sam walk away. 

“Star, I know you’re taking care of something personal, but I need you back on base as soon as possible.” You nodded, “Yes, sir. It should take me about four hours to get back.” “That’s alright, just get here.” “Yes sir.” You hung up and went to find Sam and Rhodey.

You walked into the exhibit, running into Rhodey making his way out. He noticed the rush you were in. “You get orders?” “Yeah. I need to be back on base as soon as possible.” He nodded, “He’s back there.” You followed his hand, seeing Sam by the shield display. “Thank you.” 

You moved past Rhodey. “Hey, Star?” You straightened and turned around. “Whatever it is, give ‘em hell alright?” You nodded, “Of course, sir.” You saluted each other before you moved to Sam.

When you came up beside him, he spoke first. 

“Thank you for being here, Y/N. I know this wasn’t what you were expecting me to do,” Sam said with his head hung between his shoulders. “I don’t think anyone was expecting it honestly.” He looked back up, looking at you before moving his eyes to the exhibit. 

You sighed, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I’m needed back on base. I’ve gotta go.” Sam nodded and looked down at you, “You better get going, it’s a four hour drive.” You nodded as well and hugged Sam. 

“Call me if you need anything,” he said once he pulled away, patting your shoulder. “Always do. Tell Sarah and the kids ‘hi’ for me okay?” “Of course.” 

When you got back to base, you changed before meeting with your commanding officer, seeing Omaha and his WSO, Halo, there as well.

Once you were allowed in you stood at attention in front of his desk. “Sir, may I ask why you needed me back so urgently?” “You’ve all been called back to TOPGUN.” You looked down at him in surprise before looking at the two next to you. “Sir?” “I wasn’t informed of why, but you along with 10 others were called back. You’re due to report in two weeks to North Island.” You nodded, “Yes sir.”

Since you had moved to North Island after graduating TOPGUN five years ago, you and your boyfriend were allowed to move in early, to get a feel for the island again.

*******

A few days into your stay at the North Island you were watching TV while Omaha had gone to get groceries.

You had finished your beer and were getting up to get a new one, when a news broadcast took over the rerun you were watching. 

“Unrest, in the wake of recent events, has left us vulnerable. Everyday Americans feel it. While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values. We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us.” The man said.

You recognized him as the guy who was talking to Sam after his speech.

“So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America!”

Your throat dried up as some guy walked out, carrying your father’s shield like it was a damn trophy. Your heart ripped in half. You could already tell this guy was bad news and when he winked at the camera, you nearly threw up. 

Tears filled your eyes as you stared at the screen, even though it no longer portrayed the imposter.

You gasped when the bottle shattered in your hand, not even registering how hard you were holding it.

Robotically, you moved to the bathroom, cradling your hand to keep blood off the floor. Then moved routinely as you grabbed what you needed from the drawers and cabinets.

*********

When Neil came home he didn’t expect to see a shattered bottle followed by little droplets of blood on the living room floor and your phone ringing. 

But he didn’t panic, instead he set the grocery bags down and went to your phone, seeing “Bird Boy” displayed as the caller ID. He just let it ring as he followed the little droplets to the closed bathroom door. 

He looked down at your phone before knocking and saw Sam had called you a lot.

“Baby?” He knocked softly. “Y/N, are you okay? What happened?” When he was met with silence he tried the handle, finding it unlocked. “I’m coming in.” Omaha pushed the door open slowly.

You were sitting on the closed toilet seat with a cut up hand and your other hand slightly shaking with tweezers in it as a small pool of blood was gathering at your feet. 

He squatted in front of you, “Doll? You with me?” He wasn’t sure what was going on, maybe you got hit with a bad flashback. But your nod told him it was something else. 

He slowly took the tweezers from you, “Wanna tell me what happened?” You inhaled and clenched your jaw as he wiggled a bigger piece of glass out of your hand. “You don’t have to hide it from me…”

As you exhaled, a small sob escaped your throat, “They gave it to someone, Neil. They fucking replaced him, with some Wal-Mart looking asshole.” Omaha clenched his own jaw and exhaled, “I guess that’s why Sam has been trying to get ahold of you.” You nodded, wincing a little as he pulled out some more shards before disinfecting the cuts.

Your phone rang again, but he moved it out of your reach, “After we patch you up. Talk to me about how you feel.” You swallowed, “I want to go UA just to kick this guy’s ass, but I have to focus on this mission, whatever it is. I need to carry on the legacy of Captain America, shield or no shield.” 

Omaha smiled and pressed a kiss to your now bandaged hand. “Plus, it’s not like the government cares what I have to say on the matter anyway,” you dryly chuckled, flexing your hand.

He pulled you off the toilet and into a hug, “That’s my girl.” You hummed and kissed his chest, where his dog tags were. “No, but seriously the guy looked like Carl from Up, I swear.” Omaha threw his head back and laughed, “Okay, come on now. How does steak sound?” “With your mom’s corn?” He kissed your nose, “Whatever you want, Star-light.” You giggled and kissed his lips.

Your phone ringing again made you pull away. “I should probably answer him before he flies up here.” Neil nodded, “I’ll get started.” He left to the kitchen and you took your phone to the back porch.

You answered the phone, “Sa-” “Did you see the news?” You sighed, “Yeah, I sure did Sam.” “God, I swear had I known they were gonna do that I would have never-” “Sam, Sam, I know. I know,” you cut him off. “Had I known they were gonna give it to someone I wouldn’t have let you. But Sam, I need you to be honest with me...” “Of course.” “I can’t be involved with this, not until this mission is over. Will you make sure this asshole doesn’t ruin my father’s image? Ruin his legacy?” “You have my word.” You nodded, “Good, good. I’ve gotta go, talk to you later.”

********** *1 Week Later*

Checking to make sure you had everything, you threw on your dad’s aviators and threw your hair into a ponytail. Getting the keys, you got on your bike and sped to the Hard Deck to meet your fellow pilots and boyfriend.

Walking in while sliding your sunglasses on your head, everyone right by the door turned and smiled at you, greeting you as you walked by. And of course you said ‘hello’ back but made minimal conversation as you went to the bar. You didn’t make a big deal out of your presence just yet and just looked around.

“Y/N Rogers, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You turned and smiled at Penny, “Hi Penny.” “Are you here for the same reason they’re here?” You nodded, “Yes ma’am.” She nodded, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb, “Want the usual?” “Yes, please.” She nodded and went to get you an Angry Orchard.

Sure, the serum allowed you to hold your alcohol, you just preferred the cider.

When she came back she smiled, “Hey, don’t worry about this one. It’s on him. I’ll start yours on the next one.” You followed the direction she had nodded her head in, seeing a dark headed guy in a green jacket. You tilted your bottle in thanks and he gave a nod and small smile back.

You turned to the group of pilots at the pool table and decided to make your way over.

You walk over to see Hangman walk away and hear the conversation between Phoenix and Rooster. “Well, he hasn’t changed.” “Nope.” You just smirked and took a seat on the barstool by the pool table, nobody noticing you.

“Check it out,” Fanboy said as he walked over to Phoenix. “More patches.” You glanced around the pillar, seeing the group of 5 khaki clad aviators. Payback did a roll call, “That’s Harvard, Yale, Omaha… Shit, that’s Fritz.” You looked back over at the group in front of you. “What the hell kinda mission is this?” Fanboy asked.

You stood up, boots hitting the hardwood floor, “That’s not the question we should be asking.” 

Everyone turned at the sound of your voice. You smirked a little and gestured to the group with the butt end of your bottle, “Everyone here is the best there is. Who the hell are they gonna get to teach us?”

“Star, that you?” You turned your head, seeing Bob, your best friend. “Robert Floyd, damn it’s good to see you.” You hugged him. “How’s Lemoore?” He shrugged giving you a small smile, “It was good when I left it. How are you holdin’ up?” Bob lowered his voice when he said that last part. You returned his previous smile, “Better than I thought I would be..”

“Well would you look at that? Thought the room looked a little brighter,” Hangman rested his arms on your shoulders and his chin on your head. 

“Who’s ass you kiss to be here?” You gave Bob a smile before elbowing the Texan in the ribs. “No, Bagman it’s kick, not kiss, and I do believe you’re on the list.” He painfully chuckled, groaning as he stood up, “Still as pointy as every, Star.” You nodded, “Best believe it.” You winked before waving to Bob and going over to your boyfriend.

“Hey, Doll,” Omaha said when you walked up to him. “Hey, Baby.” He kissed the top of your head and threw his arm around you.

As you talked with Halo and Omaha, the music cut out and everyone groaned. But soon, piano notes floated into the air, their distinct sound floating over everyone’s voices.

Phoenix was the first to notice that it was Rooster at the piano and got everyone’s attention. “Hey, guys, come on.” You smiled and grabbed Neil’s hand to pull him with you.

Rooster was warming up his fingers when the bell rang. You turned and caught the same dark haired guy from before hanging his head, then everyone began chanting ‘overboard’. 

Omaha winced, “Poor guy.” You chuckled and saw that Hangman, Payback, and Coyote were going over to throw him overboard.

Once he was thrown out, Rooster finally started the song.

You sang along, Neil spinning you around and laughing. “Imma tell the world that you��re mine, mine, mine!” You practically yelled in each other’s faces, but laughed before pulling each other into a kiss. You looked down and noticed that he didn’t have a drink. “Here, watch my drink, I’ll go get you one.” “You don’t have to,” he pulled you closer. “Yeah, but the bar isn’t occupied right now, it’ll only be a second.” He nodded, “Alright.”

You walked up and found Penny looking out the window. “You alright, Pen?” She blinked and nodded as she looked away from the door to you. “Uh, yeah, yeah I’m fine.” 

You looked to where she was looking and saw once again the dark haired man, this time instead of smiling he looked like he wanted to puke. “Who’s that?” “Captain Pete Mitchell, or Maverick.” 

Your eyes widened, “Wait, really?” Penny nodded. You looked at Pete and followed his eyes to Bradley at the piano, and you could put the pieces together. You saw your father with the same look every time he heard a song from his childhood and was reminded of Bucky.

You glanced back to see Omaha dancing with Fritz and you moved to go talk to Mav but he left before you could make it to the door. You sighed and turned back to Penny, who already had the bottle held out to you. “Thanks Pen.”

By the time you made it back over to your boyfriend, Rooster had finished the song and everyone was chanting his name.

**********

After it cooled down, you all regrouped at the pool table. “Star, I didn’t even see you come in! Holy shit, how have you been?” Rooster hugged you, rubbing your back. “Could be worse, all things considered. But how about you?” “Not too bad, not too bad at all.” You smiled and rubbed his shoulder. 

He took a sip of his own drink before his brows shot up and he quickly swallowed it. “How are you and Omaha?” You smiled, a blush spreading across your face, “We’re good. We’re really good.” Bradley smiled and patted you on the back before going over to play Phoenix and Bob in a game of pool.

“Hey, Star-light,” Omaha said, and you could just hear the smile in his voice. “Hi, Baby.” “You wanna play a round of pool? Loser has to do whatever the winner says?” You hummed and raised an eyebrow, “You sure you wanna make that bet, Honey?” He hummed back, leaning down into your ear, “Win or lose, I feel it’ll be worth it.” Neil playfully nipped under your ear. “You’re on.”

*************

NEW SERIES ALERT!!!!

I hope you all enjoy this first part in my new cross over series

We’re in for a ride

How do you think the first day at training will go?

tags <3: @milesdickpic​ @luckyladycreator2​ @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​​

<3 love ya babes

[obsessivelollipoplalala]

I’ve been thinking about the auction for ages, just turning it around in my head constantly. My instant guy reaction was to be horrified, and then people online made me think I was being unreasonable. And I just kept going back and forth unsure, but Brian’s message I think helped clear my head. And I think I’ve figured out what bothers me the most about all this. Because my first initial reaction was mostly just emotion. Mostly just “but that is awful!” Especially hearing about the fucking mustache comb. Like you KNOW what kind of freaks are out there. If Freddie hadn’t been a celeb I’d probably honestly say yeah sure sell it whatever. But he was a celeb, and there’s a plethora of weirdos who would want that. You have to take that kind of thing into account.

I’ll also be honest, I don’t actually give a fuck about the furniture and art being sold. Actually if it was the interior design stuff being auctioned off I probably would have shrugged. Like oh well. It’s just a couch, and a vase or whatever (very nice very expensive furniture and decoration but you know, they don’t represent Freddie imo). The clothes, the piano, the lyrics and photos, the very personal effects (mustache comb which I will never stop harping on) that’s what bothers me. It’s because it shows an utter disregard for Freddie’s legacy. Freddie is not only a famous and legendary musician, but classic and historical. He is one of the biggest musicians there will ever be in human history (and that’s not even an exaggeration in the slightest!), and you’re just selling his handwritten lyrics etc to the highest bidder with no regard for its historical value. I’m reminded of Indiana Jones. “It belongs in a museum!”

I don’t think anybody is saying to turn Garden Lodge into a Graceland. Freddie would have been horrified at that idea with how private he was. But to not offer Queen (the only her legendary musicians in this equation who will also be in/are in the history books) even some of the the lyrics…

I think for literal historical reasons it’s a problem to be selling these lyrics and some of these clothes to randos.

Also there is a way to display this stuff properly. Everybody it seems jumps to “well Freddie wouldn’t want a Graceland.” Like yeah of course not. But there is (maybe was, not sure it’s still up) a Nirvana exhibit, which Kurt Cobain’s family had a big hand in. And it displays some important objects for the public, including some of Kurt’s clothes (which were not nearly as flashy/high fashion as Freddie’s, albeit still iconic). And I also think of again, how gracefully Frances Bean Cobain (Kurt’s daughter) who has the majority of his estate, handles his legacy, and seems on very good terms with the other band members. The literal only hiccup I can think of isn’t even her fault. Kurt’s guitar was auctioned off after being stolen from her by her ex husband, and she fought to get it back.

Anyway, I think there was a way to handle this. To auction off some of Freddie’s goods, like furniture and stuff that isn’t actually important to his legacy, and still get a hefty price. Hell, maybe even sell a shirt or two that is a bit more important. But then handle the placement of the more important materials more delicately. Hell, you could still maybe even make some money depending on how you arrange where it goes.

Yeah, that's pretty much what it comes down to. I don't care much about the furniture and décor, either, and I think most people don't. Those are things that were irrelevant to his work, just things to fill up a house. I've been saying for weeks now that selling the things which directly have to do with Freddie's music, such as his lyrics, instruments, and stage costumes, is indicative of a complete and utter disregard for his life's work, impact, and legacy as a musician. It says a lot when randos who never know Freddie think, "Wow, his lyrics should be in a museum" but the woman who the media has painted as the Only One who ever understood Freddie saw no value in these items outside of dollar signs. It's just very disrespectful.

No one is arguing that the lyrics and costumes of Freddie's that are already on display at the Montreux museum or other exhibitions aren't what he would've wanted, so these people defending the auction with "BuT FrEDDiE WOuLDn'T HavE WanTED--"are just annoying.

And to me, what's equally scummy is how there was zero consideration for Freddie's living loved ones. That was one of my immediate thoughts when I first heard of the auction. Mary clearly doesn't view Freddie's lyrics, instruments, or costumes as part of Queen's larger legacy. It's both disrespectful to the band as individuals, and to Queen as a whole. It's like she really never gave a shit about Queen, Freddie's baby, and of course she certainly never gave a shit about anyone else in his life, no matter how close he was to them (and you could argue the closer they were to Freddie, the more she resented them). And it's the very personal items, too, not just the mustache comb, but the personal photos of the band hanging out in the pool or the photos of Freddie and Anita in kimonos at Garden Lodge which shouldn't be sold without asking those actually in the pictures first. It's shitty that the band and Freddie's other loved ones would even be put in the position of having to purchase photographs that they are in.

Anyway, the whole thing is really shitty to both Freddie's legacy as a musician and his loved ones. Plain and simple.

[taruntravell]

A Comprehensive Guide to Auschwitz Tours: What to Expect and How to Prepare

Visiting Auschwitz tours, the former Nazi concentration and extermination camp, is a profoundly moving and educational experience. This comprehensive guide will help you understand what to expect and how to prepare for an Auschwitz tour:

What is Auschwitz?

Auschwitz, located in the town of Oswiecim, Poland, was the largest and most infamous of the Nazi concentration and extermination camps during World War II. It is a stark reminder of the Holocaust, where over a million people, mostly Jews, were systematically murdered. The Auschwitz complex comprises Auschwitz I (the main camp), Auschwitz II-Birkenau (the extermination camp), and Auschwitz III-Monowitz (a labor camp).

Why Visit Auschwitz?

Education and Remembrance: Visiting Auschwitz is a powerful way to learn about the Holocaust, honor the memory of its victims, and ensure that history is not forgotten.

Witness to History: Walking through the camp allows you to see the conditions endured by inmates and gain a deeper understanding of the scale of the atrocities.

Reflection: Many people find that visiting Auschwitz is a deeply emotional and reflective experience that encourages empathy and a commitment to preventing such horrors in the future.

How to Prepare for an Auschwitz Tour:

Booking Tickets: Auschwitz tours are very popular, so it's essential to book your tickets well in advance. You can do this through the official Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial and Museum website.

Guided Tours vs. Self-Guided Visits: You can choose to visit Auschwitz with a guided tour or go on your own. Guided tours provide valuable context, but self-guided visits allow you to explore at your own pace. If opting for a guided tour, ensure you book in advance.

Arrival and Transportation: Auschwitz is located in Oswiecim, about 70 kilometers west of Krakow, Poland. You can reach it by car, train, or guided tours that provide transportation. Plan your transportation accordingly.

Dress Respectfully: Dress in a manner that respects the solemn nature of the site. Avoid wearing offensive or inappropriate clothing, such as clothing with political or offensive slogans.

Food and Water: There are no facilities for food and water within the Auschwitz camps, so bring your own. Keep in mind that eating or drinking during the visit is considered disrespectful.

Footwear: Wear comfortable and sturdy shoes for walking, as you'll be on your feet for several hours.

Photography: Photography is permitted but should be done with the utmost respect. Avoid smiling or posing for photos at the site. Some areas may have restrictions on photography.

Respectful Behavior: Maintain a solemn and respectful demeanor throughout your visit. Auschwitz is not a place for casual conversation or loud laughter.

Language: Most tours are conducted in multiple languages, but you may want to check if your preferred language is available. You can also consider bringing an audio guide for additional information.

Security Checks: Expect security checks and restrictions on bags and personal items, similar to airport security.

What to Expect During the Tour:

Auschwitz I: The tour often begins at Auschwitz I, where you'll see preserved barracks, exhibitions, and the notorious "Arbeit Macht Frei" gate.

Auschwitz II-Birkenau: This is the larger and more harrowing part of the camp, where mass exterminations took place. You'll see the remains of gas chambers and crematoria.

Exhibits: There are many exhibits showcasing personal belongings of the victims, photographs, and documents.

Silence and Respect: Visitors are expected to maintain a respectful and contemplative silence throughout the tour.

Emotional Impact: Be prepared for an emotionally intense experience. Many visitors find it deeply moving and somber.

After the Visit:

Reflection: Take time to reflect on your experience and what you've learned. Discuss it with others if you wish.

Support: If you're emotionally affected by the visit, consider seeking support or counseling. The Auschwitz experience can be heavy, and it's entirely normal to feel overwhelmed.

Education: Share what you've learned with others to ensure that the memory of the Holocaust lives on and that we continue to learn from history.

A visit to Auschwitz is a sobering and important experience that can provide a profound perspective on one of the darkest chapters in human history. It serves as a reminder of the importance of tolerance, empathy, and the commitment to preventing such atrocities in the future.

[xtruss]

Rare Relics and Mummies Spark Culture Exchange

— Xu Liuliu | April 18, 2023

Promotional material for Meet Egypt: The Exhibition of Rare Relics and Mummies at Beijing's Meet You Museum Photo: Courtesy of Meet You Museum

Life was loved so much in the culture of Pharaonic Egypt that its rulers wanted to live forever. For millennia, generation after generation, the Egyptians spared no effort to guarantee eternity: tombs, myths, rites, mummies, tomb goods...

Even when it comes to modern times, the myths and magic that surround mummies, ceremonies and more, still attract millions of visitors around the world, enticing them to learn more about Egyptian culture through means like exhibitions.

A total of 114 items including a gold coffined mummy, coffin lids, animal mummy masks as well as Egyptian statues, jewelry and murals that cover all aspects of ancient Egyptian life are on display at the new show Meet Egypt: The Exhibition of Rare Relics and Mummies at Beijing's Meet You Museum.

The show, the latest collaboration between the museum and the Egyptian Museum of Barcelona, includes four sections - The Myth of the God Osiris, The House of Eternity: the Cult Chapel, Imagination of the Afterlife and The Gifts of the Nile - each of which allows people to understand the unique cultural and social life of ancient Egyptians from different perspectives.

Photo: Xu Liuliu

"It is not just a simple exhibition, but an important part of cultural exchanges between China and Spain," Wang Chunchen, president of the Meet You Museum and a professor at the Central Academy of Fine Arts [CAFA], told the Global Times on Tuesday.

"Through the collection at the Egyptian Museum of Barcelona, we have witnessed a dialogue between two ancient civilizations that travels across time and space."

The year 2023 marks the 50th anniversary of the establishment of diplomatic relations between China and Spain, as such a series of cultural events will take place to mark the important moment.

The 2023 China-Spain Year of Culture and Tourism kicked off on March 27 with a concert at Spain's National Auditorium of Music in Madrid. An important part of the celebration was an exhibition in Spain featuring 124 Chinese cultural relics, including 10 life-size Terracotta Warriors.

In his speech at the opening ceremony, Chinese Minister of Culture and Tourism Hu Heping said that the Heritage of Chinese Qin and Han Civilizations exhibition is a practical measure to continue the two nation's traditional friendship and deepen mutual learning among civilizations.

Photo: Xu Liuliu

In China, Wang revealed that the CAFA Museum in Beijing is expecting to see more exhibitions about Spanish artists as the Meet You Museum has hosted exhibitions about Spanish artists Pablo Picasso and Dali.

Joaquin Clos Casellas, lifetime chairman of the Jordi Clos Private Archaeological Foundation of Egyptian Museum of Barcelona, said that special exhibitions like The Exhibition of Rare Relics and Mummies will "serve as a bridge" and lay a solid foundation for in-depth exchanges between Spanish and Chinese cultural institutions.

The highlight of the exhibition is a gilded mummy coffin belonging to an unknown woman wrapped in gold leaf linen.

"The Beijing trip marks its first overseas tour outside the museum," said Luis Manuel Gonzalvez, curator of the Egyptian Museum of Barcelona.

When it was first excavated, it was partially destroyed. After being repaired by professional cultural relic restorers, the original appearance of the coffin was restored.

[makayabundo-social-club]

_______________ 

MISS JAMA

A SOUTH SUDANESE FEMALE ARTIST BOTH FILM PHOTOGRAPHER AND GRAPHIC DESIGNER (BASED IN ADELAIDE).

SHE USES HER PHOTOGRAPHY AS THE BASE OF HER GRAPHIC DESIGN RESULTING IN THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE STREETWEAR BRAND JAMA CREW.

(https://www.instagram.com/missjama_)

HIUA ALOJI

HIUA ALOII IS A CREATIVE PRODUCER.

PHOTOGRAPHER AND CO-FOUNDER OF BERLIN FILM PRODUCTION COMPANY “BANK ® PRODUZIERT”.

WHATEVER HE WANTS TO COMMUNICATE WITH HIS PHOTOS, HE KEEPS FOR HIMSELF AND THEREFORE LEAVES IT UP TO THE VIEWER TO DECIDE.

(https://instagram.com/hiuaal)

IARNA

IARNA IS THE CURRENT MAIN ALIAS OF A SECLUDED BACKROOM ENTITY FROM THE CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS EXPRESSING THEMSELF IN POSITIVELY DREARY PHOTOGRAPHY AND THE CREATION OF DEEP SOUNDSCAPES.

(https://www.instagram.com/iarna____virtuala)

ANDRÉ JACQUES

ANDRÉ JACQUES IS A BRITISH PHOTOGRAPHER BASED IN LONDON.

JACQUES' WORK SPARKS FROM HIS OWN PERSONAL EXPERIENCES AND HIS CURIOSITY OF THE WORLD AND WHERE WE BELONG IN IT.

OFTEN NAVIGATING THE SPACE BETWEEN BLACKNESS AND BEAUTY.

(https://instagram.com/andreiacques)

JULIÁN RAES

JULIÁN WAS BORN IN LIMA, PERU AND LIVES IN BERLIN.

IN HIS PAINTINGS AND DRAWINGS HE EMBODIES INTIMACY, OUTER PERCEPTIONS AND EMOTIONAL PROCESSES THROUGH ABSTRACT FORMS AND EXPRESSIVE EXPRESSIONS.

(https://instagram.com/julianraes)

THANHXBUI

I AM THANHXBUI. A VIETNAMESE ARTIST BORN AND RAISED IN GERMANY. 21 YEARS OLD. BERLIN-BASED.

ALL MY LIFE, I ENJOYED PLAYING WITH ALL KINDS OF ART. WHETHER IT’S MAKING MUSIC, CREATIVE WRITING OR EDITING VIDEOS. CREATING SOMETHING ALWAYS FULFILLS ME WITH A SENSE OF PURPOSE.

BUT NOTHING HAS QUITE GIVEN ME THE COMFORT THAT PAINTING CAN. THE PROCESS IS ALWAYS SO CALMING AND SOMEWHAT HUMBLING. TO SIT IN FRONT OF A BLANK CANVAS AND TO CREATE SOMETHING FROM SCRATCH, TO BRING A VISION INSIDE OF ME ALIVE - TO BE FULLY MYSELF.

IN MY PAINTINGS I DON’T INTEND TO PORTRAY SOMETHING THAT EVERYONE CAN SEE. RATHER, I WANT TO SHOW SOMETHING THAT IS NOT EARTHLY BOUND. I’M IMAGINING WORLDS, FANTASIES AND SPIRITUAL PLACES. A PLACE TO ESCAPE REALITY FOR A BIT. A FEELING.

I WANT TO INVITE THE VIEWER TO DWELL IN MY VISIONS AND FIND COMFORT. MAYBE PROVOKE THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS, THEY DIDN’T HAVE BEFORE. ESSENTIALLY, MY PAINTINGS ARE AN EXPRESSION OF MYSELF AND I AM APPRECIATIVE OF ANYONE WHO IS WILLING TO TAKE A SECOND LOOK. NEEDLESS TO SAY, MY GOAL IS NOT TO CREATE SOMETHING THAT IS LIKED BY EVERYONE OR FITS THE LATEST TREND. AS LONG AS I AM CONTENT WITH THE OUTCOME AND HAVE LEARNED SOMETHING ABOUT MYSELF ON THE WAY, IT’S A SUCCESS.

(https://instagram.com/thanhxboy)

SUNNY SHOTTAA

HABIB SANNI IS A PHOTOGRAPHER AND VISUAL ARTIST FROM ESSEN WHO GOES BY THE NAME SUNNY SHOTTAA.

HIS SURROUNDING IS THE INSPIRATION OF HIS ART. HIS VIEW OF PEOPLE, PLACES, MOMENTS, OR SIMPLE AESTHETICS.

WITH HIS ARTWORK HE GIVES US A GLIMPSE OF HIS REALITY AND EMOTIONS.

(https://instagram.com/sunny.shottaa)

248 MS

HOLA! MY NAME IS MELISSA IGDI AKA 248MS. I AM A 22 YEARS OLD FROM NUREMBERG, BAVARIA WITH TURKISH ROOTS.

CURRENTLY I’M STUDYING JOURNALISM. BESIDES THAT I LOVE TO LIVE CREATIVELY, BE IT WITH COOKING, DESIGNING ROOMS OR PHOTOGRAPHING. I DON’T DO IT PROFESSIONALLY BUT OUT OF SELF-INTEREST.

IT’S FUN TO CAPTURE PEOPLE, STREET ART, EXHIBITS IN MUSEUMS OR PUBLIC BUILDINGS FROM MY POINT OF VIEW. IT’S ALSO NICE THAT I CAN SHARE MY PICTURES WITH MY ENVIRONMENT. 

EVERY PICTURE I SHOOT AND PUBLISH HAS SOMETHING TO SAY - I ALSO WANT TO INDICATE TO EVERYDAY PROBLEMS.

I HOPE IT APPEARS TO YOU AS MUCH AS ME.

(https://instagram.com/248ms)

MAKAYABUNDO

MAKAYABUNDO IS AN CREATIVE ARTIST FROM WUPPERTAL-VOHWINKEL AND IS KNOWN FOR HIS WORK IN VARIOUS GENRES.

IN HIS YOUTH HE WAS STRONGLY INFLUENCED BY ART, URBAN LIFESTYLE AND HIS ENVIRONMENT. THIS LED HIM TO DEVOTE HIMSELF TO VISUAL ARTS AND MUSIC IN THE MID-2010S.

DUE TO HIS PROFESSIONAL BACKGROUND AND INTEREST IN PEOPLE, HIS ART IS SHOWCASING DIFFERENT PEOPLE AND CULTURES.

(https://instagram.com/makayabundo)

EVILNIC

YO YO, MY NAME IS NIC RAPPO! I AM 28 YEARS OLD AND WAS BORN AND RAISED IN QUEENS, NEW YORK CITY. I HAVE BEEN LIVING IN BERLIN FOR JUST OVER 4 YEARS.

I AM A MULTIDISCIPLINARY ARTIST FOCUSING ON ANALOG PHOTOGRAPHY AND TEXTILE PRODUCTION / DESIGN. MY PHOTO WORK IS (ALMOST) EXCLUSIVELY BLACK/WHITE AND FOCUSES ON THEMES OF ESTRANGEMENT, DUPLICITY AND RECURRENCE.

WHEN I AM NOT OUT AND ABOUT TAKING PHOTOS YOU CAN FIND ME IN MY SCREEN PRINTING ATELIER.

PEACE!

(https://instagram.com/evilnic)

VIVIANA ISABELLA

VIVIANA IS A BERLIN BASED CREATIVE WITH ITALIAN ROOTS WHO GREW UP BETWEEN NUREMBERG AND SPAIN - THIS INFLUENCES ALSO HER CREATIVE WORK.

ART ALWAYS PLAYED A HUGE ROLE IN HER LIFE, AS SHE STARTED DRAWING SKETCHES IN HER EARLY TEENS, AND SOON SHE ALSO DEVELOPED A PASSION FOR OIL PAINTING. HER COMPOSITIONS CAN BE EASILY RECOGNIZED BY HER SURREALISTIC WAY OF DEPICTING NATURE AND THE HUMAN BODY. HER ART CENTERS AROUND THE IDEA THAT EYES MAKE US BELIEVE THAT WE SEE/OBSERVE OUR SURROUNDINGS IN AN OBJECTIVE WAY, EVEN THOUGH, THEY ONLY SHOW US WHAT WE WANT TO SEE AND WHAT MATTERS TO US. THIS MAY RAISE THE QUESTION THAT THIS PHENOMENON IS THE UNIQUE FEATURE THAT MAKES US HUMANS.

BESIDES EXPRESSING HERSELF WITH PAINTING, VIVI AS SHE IS CALLED BY HER FRIENDS, ALSO GIVES AN INSIGHT OF HER WAY OF SEEING THINGS WITH ANALOGUE PHOTOGRAPHY.

USING HER KNOWLEDGE IN ART AS WELL AS DESIGN, VIVIANA WORKS AS A MOTION DESIGNER AND COLORIST.

(https://www.instagram.com/vivianaisabella)

CRYSTALLLISTARR

HI DEAR PEOPLE,

MY NAME IS JOHANNA (CHRYSTALLLISTARR), I AM 21 YEARS OLD AND CURRENTLY WORKING ON ARTISTIC PROJECTS, SUCH AS JEWELRY, METALWORK AND PHOTOGRAPHY. I AM INTERESTED IN A WIDE RANGE OF THINGS...

I RECENTLY MOVED FROM COLOGNE TO BERLIN AND NOW WORK FOR THE SET DESIGN DEPARTMENT AT „DEUTSCHES THEATER“.

MY ART IS THE RESULT OF EXPERIMENTING WITH DIFFERENT CRAFTS AND MATERIALS. IT IS ABOUT EXPLORING, DESIGN AND CREATING.

BUT I AM STILL VERY MUCH AT THE BEGINNING OF MY JOURNEY. AND I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO GET TO KNOW MORE CRAFTING METHODS AND WORKING ON FURTHER PROJECTS. SO STAY TUNED!

IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN A PIECE OR HAVE ANY QUESTIONS PLEASE FEEL FREE TO TALK TO ME.

ALL THE JEWELRY IS 1:1, I MOSTLY DO CUSTOMIZED PIECES, AS AN ORDER IS PLACED.

(https://www.instagram.com/crystalllistarr/)

DJ VEE

VEE IS A BERLIN BORN AND BASED CREATIVE THAT WORKS AS A STYLIST AND DJ.

YOU'LL FIND HER ON DANCEFLOORS ALL OVER THE WORLD. HER STYLE IS A MIXTURE OF GENRES (INFLUENCED BY HIP HOP, ELECTRONIC MUSIC AND AFRO) THAT MAKE YOU MOVE.

(https://instagram.com/verosabe)

KIMSA

WITH PUBERTY HITTING DURING THE GREAT ERA OF SOUNDCLOUD, KIMSA HAS BEEN SHAPED INTO THE CUTTING EDGE SELECTOR THEY ARE TODAY,SHOWCASING HER GENRE FUSING EXTRAVAGANZA IN HER DISETS.

(https://instagram.com/jinshayuen)

OFORI

OFORI IS A DJ FROM KREFELD (WITH ROOTS FROM GHANA).

WITH HIS OLD SCHOOL-INFLUENCED SOUND  HE WANTS TO DIG UP HIDDEN TREASURES.  SO HE TRIES TO TRANSMIT THE SOUND AND VALUES OF HIP HOP’S GOLDEN ERA TO HIS ENVIRONMENT.

(https://instagram.com/ofori.09)

HELINA

HELINA IS AN ETHIOPIAN AND ERITREAN ARTIST FROM BERLIN.

AS A DJ, DANCER, AND HOBBY PHOTOGRAPHER HELINA EXPLORES ALL FORMS OF EXPRESSION. HELINA GREW UP MOSTLY WITH 2000 RNB AND TRADITIONAL ETHIOPIAN AND ERITREAN MUSIC, AND AIMS TO BRING MORE GENRE DIVERSITY TO THE SCENE.

(https://instagram.com/helinaisayas)

[angelsbblahabra]

Things to do in La Habra

La Habra is a city in Orange County, California. It has a population of 60,239 individuals, and also a neighboring city is La Habra Heights. To the north of La Habra lies Los Angeles County. This city has many points to use visitors. Several of these consist of the many different restaurants as well as night life places, the historical midtown, and the museums and archaeological sites. The city is close to Los Angeles, which is a 40-minute drive. It's worth stopping by the Hollywood sign and taking a look at the studios. It's one of the nation's most recognizable cities, and also is a great place to stop and get a cup of coffee. If you want to learn more about the city's background, check out the La Habra History Museum If you have kids, take them to the La Habra Children's Museum This complimentary museum supplies fun for kids of any ages. There are real-time exhibits and a Nature Walk exhibition. The gallery likewise offers free vehicle parking. Once you're done going to museums, you can head to dining establishments and also buying. The city supplies many activities as well as occasions for households to appreciate together.

La Habra Historical Museum

The La Habra Historical Museum is a wonderful area to discover the area's background. Formerly referred to as the Old Settlers Historical Museum, it is open on Saturdays as well as features a varied collection of artefacts and historic things. You'll locate every little thing from very early Californian citrus orchards to modern art, modern art, and landscapes. You can even learn more about the Pacific Project or the Pop Art activity. The gallery's collection consists of photos of the city's very early years, including photographs of old farmhouses and farming machinery, labourers, pioneers, and extra. The gallery's interactive screens are additionally a terrific method to involve your youngsters. The museum likewise has 7 galleries committed to youngsters. A variety of displays appropriate for kids of all ages. Esther Gibson offered with numerous historic organizations throughout her life. She belonged to the La Habra Old Settlers Society, which was founded in 1898. Gibson helped restore the culture and supported its activities for decades. In 2003, the society released the 2nd edition of a book on La Habra, which aided fund the museum. She was also a member of the Orange County Historical Society, and also in 1971 she became its head of state. Situated in the city of La Habra, California, the La Habra Historical Museum is committed to preserving the city's history. Featuring the stories of La Habra in between the 1890s and also the 1960s, the gallery is an ideal place to find out more regarding this prospering area.

The Children's Museum

The Childrens Museum at La Habra has a variety of exhibitions for children. Amongst them is a hand-carved slide carousel. You can likewise take a directed excursion of a 1942 railway vehicle. Situated in La Habra, the museum is open daily, other than Mondays. Do not let an arrest stop you from seeing your household, contact Angels Bail Bonds La Habra for more information about bail bonds. Situated in a historic 1923 train depot, the Childrens Museum at La Habra is a great place to spend a day with the family. The museum contains hands-on exhibits, consisting of a dinosaur topiary and also a brought back 1942 buggy. It was one of the initial children's museums on the west shore. There are also dress-up areas, a dinosaur home, as well as an OCTA bus. The Childrens Museum at La Habra emphasizes the significance of play in knowing. Its exhibitions encourage the development of abilities, the expression of creative thinking, and also the discovery of a bigger world. The museum also has an authentic hand-carved Dentzel Carousel, electrical version trails, as well as a miniature village. Established in 1922, the Childrens Museum at La Habra is a not-for-profit organization with the support of the City of La Habra. The Museum Guild and Board of Directors provide assistance, as well as there are volunteer docents and donors. During the New Year, the gallery commemorates an unique birthday celebration for kids.

Peter F. Schabarum Regional Park

The 575-acre park has plenty to offer to homeowners of the area. There are tennis courts, bountiful treking routes, and all-natural locations. The park is also home to a protected stream. The 575-acre park is a prominent choice amongst those looking for an energetic as well as exciting family members day out. If you are seeking a family-friendly activity, you can hike or bike the Schabarum Loop trail. This 4.2-mile (9,500-step) path winds its means via grassy fields and big trees. There are also cherry blossom trees as well as a panorama of the hills. Visitors will certainly like the scenic elegance of this park. There are restrooms as well as picnic tables at this park, which is best for barbecues. The park is dog-friendly, and also there are lots of possibilities to interact with the regional wild animals. You can also find friendly squirrels and horses. Parking is cost-free during the week, yet there is a charge on weekends. If you're driving, make certain you park near the park so you don't have to worry about locating car park.

Adventure City

The Adventure City California amusement park is a fun place to take the family members. It's located at 1238 South Beach Blvd. It's open from 10 am to 5 pm, as well as has cost-free car park, something that you do not locate at the huge theme parks. The park is open seven days a week during the summer and also on weekends throughout the rest of the year. You can obtain limitless rides with admission to the amusement park, which is additionally a fantastic area to do some bonding with the kids. The trips at Adventure City consist of the Rock Climbing Wall, a gallery, and also a stroking zoo. Although the park is not as large as Magic Mountain, it has plenty to use. Adventure City is additionally terrific for birthday parties. The kids can have a blast on the flights at the park, consisting of the Rescue 911 fire engine and Barnstormer airplanes. The park also has a classic 1946 carousel. One more destination at Adventure City is the Hobby City White House, which is a fifty percent replica of the White House in Washington DC. For several years, it was home to the Doll & Toy Museum.

La Habra Depot Theatre

La Habra Depot Theatre is a little regional theater location that uses a variety of plays and also musicals. The intimate cinema room is the excellent setup to capture a play or musical. It likewise organizes neighborhood events as well as fundraisers. If you've been arrested as well as will be processed into jail, call Angels Bail Bonds La Habra, they can help you with your bail amount. The theater is located in the historical La Habra Depot, which functioned as a railway depot until the 1930s. A current renovation has changed the Depot into a community playhouse. The Depot's cinema timetable includes 2 main stage series and also an auxiliary, family-friendly series. In addition, the theater holds many unique events, including open-mic evenings as well as karaoke. After an one-year hiatus, the La Habra Depot Theatre is back in service. After a period of time when contributions and participation decreased, the City of La Habra decided to rent the theater to a theater business. The Mysterium Theater won the lease after vanquishing nine various other companies for the right to run the La Habra venue. It has considering that staged musicals and also plays, along with stand-up comedy. The La Habra Depot Theatre was integrated in 1909. It was initially located on the northeast edge of Hiatt Street and Electric Avenue. In the 1920s, it aided increase the city's economy as well as population. It was closed in 1938, but resumed in the late 1970s and also 1980s as a community playhouse.

-

Angels Bail Bonds La Habra +15625219666 https://angelsbailbonds.com/la-habra/

[voyeuristicvixen]

Captains Log No. 29_ Meroe Explorers

Last week bae and I visited the Tonal Chantilly Museum Collaboration!

Meroe Museum SL worked with one of the top designers in SL to add two exhibits to the Chantilly Museum. The first exhibit is called Ancient Egypt (KMT/Nubia) showcasing ancient artwork and sculptures from 900 BC to 3500 BC. The second is on Moorish civilizers of the world and how they taught europeans to bathe. xD TONAL has your refined, regal, and majestic experience in one Solitary Palace of the Arts.This is an experience you do not want to miss and makes for an amazing date night and photo op! You get to learn of your culture, experience the richness and luxury that is black exellence and take cute pics w your boo.

I made him dress up and he completely understood the assignment. We were giving black renaissance okay! It is acutally a huge sim to explore and it is very impressive and beautiful. Aesthetically inside and out its just a marvel. Makes you really appreciate what SL can provide in terms of experiences that trigger emotions. The feelings are real.

When you go into an institution that is emulating places where people like us are not usually represented in their true light, it was really refreshing to be in a space that is not urban centered that is positively portraying what we are and where we come from. Especially the Moors exhibit. That is one of my favorites but it took us a minute to find! When you click on the tp for the museum on the directory its not exactly where the Moor exhibit is. I had to follow intuition and explore the building before I found it, right as I was about to give up thinking maybe it wasnt there... it popped up for me! It reminded me of adventures i’ve had in Portugal where I was guided by the ancestors and found a whole castle that was built by moors and an exhibit in the castle about how we lived and buried the dead. Our history is so rich and marvelous. We are the inventors of science, math, astronomy... We had automatons before anyone else. . . Beautiful intricate inventions unfathomable to modern man. It was a moorish woman who created the first university ever.

Just totally in love and obsessed with our true history, culture, and sharing it with  our community. If we could see how multifaceted and rich our history is maybe we can uplift ourselves beyond these illusions of division and get back to where we belong. Building as one.

Here is your carriage to the palace! http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/TONAL%20Family/212/115/40

[nationalharryleague]

Work of Art

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: AU, Artist!Harry, fluff, angst if you squint

Word count: 4K

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my entry for @hsogolden​ ’s AU writing challenge! Check out their blog they are incredibly talented!!! ALSO, a MASSIVE thank you and shoutout to the lovely Miss Lu, @harrysgucciloafers​!!! I could have never done it without her!! Thank you so much for reading and remember, feedback is so so so appreciated!!! You can also send requests to my ask anytime!! I hope you enjoy :) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist :) 

***

Sleep was fleeting and you remained staring at your popcorn ceiling in your shitty apartment for longer than you would have liked. It was later than you would have liked when your phone buzzed and lit up the ceiling of your bedroom. Knowing sleep was still far off, you rolled over and examined the text from an unknown number, the bright screen blinding you in the process.

Hi, I was thinking of you today. I thought I would show you this piece that I made of you. Hope you’re doing well. Hx, attached was a slightly blurry photo of a beautiful painting of a woman.

The woman in the painting was made up of beautiful bright colors, her skin a mix of green, blue, and purple tones. Her eyes were a bright and captivating cerulean, standing out behind wide framed glasses, and she wore an intriguing and knowing smirk on her lips. Her hair fell down in blunt bangs over her forehead and framed her heart shaped face. She was young, looking to be only a little bit older than you.

The painting was captivating. It was crafted with such bright tones, using color blocking that blended the abstract with some elements of realism. It felt like someone poured all of their emotion and adoration or hurt (you couldn’t decide which) into it. You couldn’t decide if the artist loved or hated this figure staring back at you. One thing you knew was that whoever texted you was incredibly talented and had obviously dedicated so much time to this piece. You felt awful that it hadn’t reached its intended destination.

Um… Wrong number, you typed out, feeling a pang of sympathy for whoever ‘H’ was.

Oh… okay. Sorry to bother you., your phone screen lit up again.

Your art is beautiful, you quickly sent back, attempting to offer some sort of consolation to the mystery artist. Sorry I’m not who you wanted to talk to.

Don’t worry about it. Just looking for someone from a lifetime ago.

That last part kept you up for most of the night. You couldn’t stop thinking about what that could mean. Old friend? Estranged relative? Another artist? You let your mind dream up Oscar-worthy scenarios until you finally fell asleep.

***

“Please come to Scott’s art show with me,” Grace whined from across the table at your favorite coffee shop. Grace was your best friend from college and hadn’t figured out to get rid of you yet.

“You know how I feel about your shitty boyfriend and his shitty art,” you fired back. Scott was a pretentious “artist” who made “ironic” misogynistic sculptures and frequently “forgot” to pay Grace back for his share of rent. You hated his guts.

“I promise I’m going to break up with him soon. I just need to get to the end of the month so I get my money’s worth for rent,” she assured you. “By the way, I’m going to need some help moving out at the end of the month,” she mentioned nonchalantly. You let out a chuckle at her and playfully rolled your eyes.

“I will go to the show with you on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You’ll hold my hand.”

A few hours later you walked into the modern and cold art show space, holding onto Grace’s hand for dear life, feeling unwelcome in this environment. Grace blended in easily, her bright blue hair and arms of tattoos suiting her well.  The edgiest thing you had ever done was getting your nose pierced… until your grandma threw a fit and your mom made you take it out. You were not an artist and you did not feel welcome in the art community, or at least the type of artists that hang out with Scott. You worked in an office, you dressed plainly and simply, and you didn’t think there was anything special about yourself. You were strikingly ordinary, a sharp contrast from most other people in the gallery. You felt like an outsider because you were one.

Walking around the gallery, you hung onto Grace while examining and appreciating the artwork. You took careful steps, as if to not take attention away from the paintings on the walls and spent time examining each piece as you moved through the room. As you moved from wall to wall, your eyes fell on a strikingly familiar painting. The same girl with the bright blue eyes and the bangs stared back at you, the devilish smirk still playing upon her lips like she knew you had met before.

Releasing Grace’s hand, you all but ran up to the painting in question, trying to take in all the details that didn’t translate over the slightly grainy photo on your phone. The painting took on a life of its own up close. The paint itself was layered thick and thin across the canvas creating a rough texture that made the girl come alive. You were half waiting for her to make eye contact with her captivating baby blues and start staring back at you. You felt like you could reach inside the canvas and hold the beautiful woman’s face in your hands.

“Do you like it?” a deep British voice asked after clearing their throat behind you.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful,” you murmured, still staring at the green and purple woman. It took you a moment to rip yourself away from her piercing eyes and look towards the voice, only to turn around and find an even more captivating set.

They were bright green and belonged to a tall, dark haired man that was breathtaking. He had chocolate brown curls that seemed to be sticking in every direction, like a purposefully perfect bedhead, and stubble that moved up his jaw and down his neck. He had plushy pink lips framing his bright smile and his two front teeth came down the tiniest bit too far. He was wearing a white tshirt that was painted to his fit body as it was a size too small for him, showing off his arms of tattoos, and a pair of orange corduroy flares. His ensemble was topped off with a pearl necklace. He arched a brow when your mouth hung open slightly, trying to take all of him in.

“The painting is gorgeous,” you eventually were able to spit out. “I feel like I know her.”

“I’m glad that I was able to create something so captivating,” he smiled at you. So he was the one that painted it, meaning he was the one who had texted it to you. After getting over the initial shock, you gave yourself an internal high five for having this guy’s number. “Harry,” he introduced himself, reaching out a perfectly manicured hand to shake yours. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Y/N,” you smiled back, debating if you should tell him that you had kind of met before. It felt creepy to tell him, like you were some sort of voyer on an intimate part of his life. “I love her. Can you tell me a little bit more about it?” you asked. You had to figure out if it was worth being creepy about.

“So did I,” he said with a light chuckle. “She’s someone that I used to know,” he elaborated looking over your shoulder, surely making eye contact with the woman. Maybe you were reading into it too closely, but you thought a flash of hurt passed across his features.

“Do you always paint mysterious people from your past?” you teased, wanting to break the slightly awkward silence and also willing to do anything to talk to him further.

“Actually, I’m mainly a landscape painter,” he smiled at the ground, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Looking back at Harry’s wall of paintings you realized that the girl was the only person on the wall, flanked by beautiful landscape paintings depicting all different areas of the world. You quickly picked your favorite, a monochromatic green scene of the Eiffel tower.

After you asked if he traveled a lot to paint, the conversation began to flow. You strolled around the mainly empty studio space, footsteps falling in sync, him teaching you about his paintings and you asking questions, desperate to learn anything you could from him and just wanting to hear that beautiful accent. You learned he grew up in Cheshire and moved to New York for school and never left, but he travelled to Europe often to see his family and to paint. He told you about how his ultimate goals in life were to have one of his pieces in the Museum of Modern Art and to find his soulmate. He was a hopeless yet hopeful romantic. He also had two cats, Evie and Stevie (the latter was obviously named after Stevie Nicks).

He was so beautiful. He had this magical twinkle in his eye that you just couldn’t get over. He looked like he was one of the sculptors’ in the room’s life work. He was just as much of a piece of art as anything on display in the studio.

When the crowd started to thin, Grace came and found you, still rolling her eyes from something stupid Scott had said, him trailing not far behind. “Hi my love,” she greeted you, kissing your cheek casually as always. “We were getting ready to head out but I can see you’ve made a friend.”

“Harry is the artist behind all these amazing paintings,” gesturing to the long wall displaying his artwork. “This is my best friend Grace,” you said, turning back to him. “And that’s her soon to be ex-boyfriend, Scott,” you laughed and pointed to him staring at a blank white canvas in the corner that was obviously not part of the exhibition.

“Wait,” he began, shaking his head and laughing, pointing accusingly between the two of you. “You two aren’t together?”

“What? No!”

“It’s just that you were holding hands for a while when you came in and then she called you ‘love,’ and then kissed your cheek,” he continued laughing, his cheeks a bright red. It was adorable. You felt your cheeks heat up just as bright red as his.

“Oh my god, no.” You broke out into a fit of giggles of your own.

“Well, in that case, would you like to grab a drink or something sometime?”

***

You decided to order a martini when you got to the bar the next night. You thought it would make you look fancy and you hoped it would impress your worldly date. You had put on your favorite red dress (the one that hugged you in all the right spots and hid the wrong ones), praying he would dress up like you did, and slid carefully onto the barstool. Bouncing your knee nervously, you sipped your drink slowly until you saw his well dressed figure enter the bar, making your heart skip a beat.

He was dressed in high-waisted wide-legged tan pants and a bright red cardigan printed with small white hearts that was held together in the front by a single button, leaving his chest and signature pearl necklace on display. His chest tattoos were now slightly visible, the faces of two swallows looking back at you, as well as what you thought might be some sort of antennae peeking up from his stomach. He also wore an award winning smile and shot you a wink when he spotted you from the entrance of the bar. Once again, he took your breath away.

“Hello darling,” he greeted you as he made his way over. You began to panic when he started leaning into you, relieved when his lips found their way to your cheek and quickly moved to the other. When he kissed your cheeks, it sent sparks through your body. Oh my god, he is so British, you squealed inside your head, unable to suppress your American excitement. “I like your color choice,” he smirked looking between your outfits of almost the exact same red. You could only hope your cheeks didn’t match as well.

“Great minds dress alike,” you remarked, earning a laugh from the gorgeous man in front of you. Turns out, your joke was enough to break the ice. Soon the conversation began to flow freely, without anxiety or trepidation, like you were a pair of souls reunited after lifetimes apart. You were two martinis in when you decided to break the news that the art gallery was not the first time you had spoken.

“I think I have to break something to you,” you giggled, everything seeming a little funny after a few drinks, “the art show was not the first time we met.” His eyebrows knit together in slight confusion so you decided to elaborate. “The night before the show you sent a picture of that painting to a wrong number, and that wrong number was me. I promise it was all a coincidence and I am not stalking you.” You held your breath while you waited a moment with bated breath for a reaction from him, but released the stress that had found its way into your shoulders when his smile returned to his lips.

“I knew you had more interest in Amelia than most people,” he chuckled. Amelia, you repeated to yourself, now having a name for the face of your mystery woman.

“When Grace dragged me to that studio and I saw her again, I just had to know more. But then I met you and got a little distracted,” you flirted, “accidentally” nudging his leg with the point of your stiletto.

“I’m glad I’m just a distraction to you,” he feigned offense, clutching his pearl necklace with the hand that wasn’t hanging onto his neat tequila.

“Meeting you tonight was actually just an elaborate ruse to learn more about your Amelia,” you sarcastically confessed, sending him back one of the winks he had been shooting you all night. Your wink wasn’t met with his typical laugh, but a slightly pained smile that didn’t reach his eyes. You worried you had hit a nerve.

“She’s not my Amelia anymore. Actually, I don’t think she ever was,” he spoke gently, taking a sip of his drink and breaking eye contact for what felt like the first time tonight. Oh no oh no oh no, you began to panic in your head. What did this woman do to him?  

“I once had an ex tell me they had cancer so I wouldn’t break up with them,” you offered, forcing a laugh and praying you could brighten up his mood again. Thankfully, it worked, bringing back the crinkles by his eyes that appeared whenever he smiled or laughed.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the rest of the night went smoothly. It was better than smooth actually, it felt easy and exciting. Harry made your heart sing and your stomach flutter. He was a perfect gentleman, walking you all the way home (even when he lived on the other side of the city) and even up to your apartment, insisting he needed to make sure you made it inside safe.

The pair of you were standing in front of your front door when he leaned in and pressed his blushed lips to yours. He tasted like the lime that sat on the rim of his drunk and smelled like shampoo and vanilla. Every hair on your body stood up on point and everywhere he touched you felt like your skin lit on fire; you never wanted this moment to end. He gently held your face and you could feel his lips turn into a smile as he pulled away, his beautiful green eyes meeting yours once again.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he breathed, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

“I think we should do this again,” you said, still catching the breath that he took away.

“I promise you’ll be hearing from me soon. I already have your number,” he chuckled, still beaming. You watched as he walked down the hallway away from you, winking and blowing you a kiss before turning the corner. As soon as you entered the apartment, you slid down your front door, dizzy from the haze he had created in your head. You couldn’t wait to see him again.

***

After that night, you couldn’t believe someone like him kept coming back to someone like you. You insisted you were too boring for someone who had such an incredible personality and background. Yet three months later, he was yours and you were his.

You spent almost all your nights together, crammed into one of your small New York City apartments, wrapped in each other’s arms and hypothetically solving the world’s problems. You had learned in this time that Harry was incredibly intelligent and well spoken, no matter how long it took him to get his words out due to his slow cadence. In your conversations, you had come to the agreement that most of the world’s problems could be solved with a little empathy and that green was definitely the best color.

Tonight you laid naked in his bed, your head resting just above your favorite butterfly, and played with his fingers as you listened to him speak about postmodernism and how it rocked the art world. You didn’t understand a thing he was going on about but you loved to hear him speak, his voice vibrating through his chest and how he pulled on his bottom lip when he was thinking. You scanned the studio apartment from his bed, trying to pay attention but losing that battle. The floor was littered with finished and unfinished paintings leaning up against the walls and you noticed one familiar face you had grown fond of was missing.

“Where did your painting of Amelia go?” you asked when he took a second to breathe during his diatribe.

“I sold it,” he said curtly.  You hadn’t talked much more about Amelia after that first night, the woman obviously being a sore spot, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened.

“Oh, okay. I liked that painting a lot,” you spoke cautiously, trying not to hit whatever nerve you had previously.

“It was nice, but I think she should haunt someone else now,” he said with a sigh. Haunt?, you thought to yourself.

“H,” you began, rolling yourself off him to look him in the eye, “can I ask what happened with her?” You held your breath, afraid you might lose him to the heartbreak again.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s long gone.”

“Harry,” you lightly scolded him by using his full name which you rarely did, thinking back to when you agreed not to keep anything for each other. With a sigh, he began to speak.

“I was with her for a couple months last year and when I look back at it, it was really messy. We fought all the time and kept a lot from each other. But I had my rose colored glasses on and I would go as far as saying I was probably in love with her. I was even looking for engagement rings.” You felt a pang of jealousy within you at the idea of Harry loving anyone else. “That was until I found out that she already had a husband.”

Your heart broke for him after your initial shock, resting your hand on his warm cheek in an attempt to soothe him. He didn’t seem sad recounting the story or at the mention of her like he was before; he was now dealing with the remaining hurt of rejection.

“I painted her while I was still really mad,” he continued. “My original plan was to send it to her husband and tell him what had happened. But I decided that three lives didn’t need to be ruined instead of one. And then I was just kinda stuck with the painting. I thought selling it was a good way to get her out of my life and it’s more productive than lighting it on fire,” he finally said with a light chuckle.

A lot made sense all of a sudden. You now understood why Harry always got a little jealous when he saw other guys looking at you. He would loop an arm around your waist and press a kiss to your cheek while he stared them down. He thought you didn’t notice but you always did. You also understood why he was so open with you about how much he cared about you. It was a good thing you were equally as obsessed with him.

“I’m sorry, H. You didn’t deserve to go through all of that,” you said softly after a moment, unsure of what else you could offer.

“It’s okay. We grow from our past,” he shrugged. “And if I hadn’t painted her, I wouldn’t have found you,” he smiled sweetly, pulling you back into him and pressing his lips onto yours.

***

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing?” you giggled when Harry asked you to close your eyes.

“I have something to show you. Please close your eyes,” he asked again.

“What if I don’t want to close my eyes?” you teased, poking the dimple in his cheek caused by his cheeky grin. He rolled his eyes and began his plea again.

“Close your eyes, please. Do it.”

You gave in this time, closing your eyes and letting your heart flutter in anticipation. Harry knew you loved surprises and often took advantage of that fact. You felt him gently rest his cupped hands over your eyes, obviously not trusting you to not peak (he probably shouldn’t). He pressed himself to your back, urging you to make your way further into his apartment.

“Styles, if you let me walk into something, I swear to god,” you continued your giggling, overcome with excitement. Harry mumbled an ‘Oh, hush,’ in your ear before he stopped you both and lifted his hands away.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took it in. The painting was in Harry’s signature style, layered bright colors and varied textures across the canvas. Staring back was your own face, painted in a bright red monochrome with the exception of the color of your eyes that remained the same. You were posed with a bright smile that crinkled the skin by your eyes and you were wearing the red dress that you had worn that first night at the bar.

“Harry, oh my god. It’s so beautiful,” you managed to get out, still in shock.

“I know you don’t think you are, but are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t want anyone else in the world to be my muse.” You felt as if you could explode or melt with the amount of love you had for this man. You held him up on such a pedestal, and now you knew he did the same for you. “From the moment I saw you, I thought you were a work of art. So, I thought I’d actually make you into one.”

Your cheeks burned from the smile you couldn’t shake if you wanted to and you felt yourself get a little teary eyed. You felt as if you had spent the majority of your life thinking you were nothing special and just another person walking down the street. Harry made you feel like you were the center of the universe. You wanted to love yourself like Harry loved you; like you loved him.

“I love you,” you blurted, small tears rolling down your face, wiped away by Harry’s talented hands.

“I love you too,” he murmured softly, pulling your body to his. “I’ll always have your face hung up high in my gallery.”

There she is!! I hope you enjoyed it!! You can let me know what you think here!! :) 

[goodstuffhappenedtoday]

With Power, Poise And Confidence, These 'Women R Beautiful'

"Mister! Mister!" she yelled. "Take my photo!"

A demand, not a request. Mama had spotted the three cameras hanging from straps around Ruben Natal-San Miguel's neck as he walked around her Bronx neighborhood. Her demand intrigued him.

"I said 'absolutely.' "

Natal-San Miguel likes to photograph people where they live. He calls his pictures "environmental portraits." No formal poses. Just a pause, in front of his camera.

Mama stopped by a red truck and crossed her arms. He liked the reflection of a tree on the truck's side.

"And I just took the photo."

Click.

It became his best-known picture.

Mama (Beautiful Skin) — Natal-San Miguel added the parenthesis — belongs to the Mint Museum in Charlotte, N.C. It's part of their first online exhibition. Twenty six of Natal-San Miguel's photos are on view in "Expanding the Pantheon: Women R Beautiful." His subject in this one has vitiligo. Pigment is missing from parts of her skin. She's dappled. And Natal-San Miguel sees her beauty.

"Ruben always wants us to recognize the beauty in the overlooked," says Mint curator Jen Sudul Edwards. "Her confidence, her brazen appraisal of the viewer ... gives this impression of power and beauty."

Natal-San Miguel says his goal in this series is to expand the pantheon. "It's a way to have people understand otherness and other beauty; another definition of beauty." The women show themselves as they are, and he's their communicator.

What strikes me is that he gives us permission to see and, possibly, stare. You might want to do that on the street, but it wouldn't be right. Spending time with her through photography, we begin to see her poise, her sense of self. We start looking at her in a different way. So he's affecting how we see.

Here's a more traditional beauty. Or is she?

keep reading, and see more photos, at the link

[poptod]

The Ivory Haunting (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: His face is engrained into your head but his name is nowhere. Where does he exist? Why are you so obsessed?

Notes: this is strangely creepy and i dont know why. its not what i meant to do but i think its cool anyway. gender neutral as fuckin always WC: 3.1k

+

There's this carving – more of a bust or sculpture – that has your mind twisted every which way. It's a stupid thing, really, but you can't get his expression out of your head, and thus it haunts your waking and sleeping hours. The style is Egyptian, you think. He's wearing a crown on his head, one that you've seen in a couple museums before, and he has an absent smile on his face. While you scroll through the endless amount of photos of ancient Egyptian statues online, you note that it's an all too common expression.

At this point you can't even recall where you first saw it. Could've been through the endless internet surfing or the many museums you visited in your travels, but at the end of the day you're stumped. What was his name? Where did you meet him?

It's clear as day. His alabaster skin. He looks straight at you with empty eyes, the irises having eroded many years ago in the hot sahara sun. His nose has long fallen off, leaving behind a jagged scar that drags from his brow down to his lips, where that haunting smile sits so easily. They're full, his lips – sweet, and soft, even for stone. At each end are little dips, showcasing the slight smile. His chin is a little big, but it makes way for the sharp contrast of his jawline. He has cheekbones – mostly hidden behind the crown – and his ears are a little large. The trait that draws your attention each time is his eyes. Blank. Like they had truly been staring at the world for thousands of years.

You don't get out much anymore, not since the restrictions were put in place. There are moments, especially in the dead of night, in which you want so desperately to leave your tiny apartment, but the curfew states otherwise. Policemen and government workers roam the streets and you'd rather not get into a tussle over something so small as an urge.

Still, you stare outside your window, wondering why it feels like you're suffocating. This is how you spend a lot of your time nowadays, staring at the streets. There's hardly any cars out, and the sidewalks are barren, a sight you'd seen only once before during the original quarantine. London is not a quiet city. It's quite the opposite, and to see it muted is in the least upsetting.

Your job is... easy. Considering the state of the world, you're incredibly lucky, retaining your job and keeping away from the outside. You also get a lot of free time. Usually you'd spend it in front of a television, or in a good book, but now it's in front of your computer screen. The typing marker flashes in front of you, placing behind it the clear words you've searched at least a hundred times by now.

ANCIENT EGYPTIAN BUSTS

By now you know what the first images are going to be. Nefertiti, mostly – her bust is by far the most famous. Then there's of course Akhenaten with his elongated skull, followed by several advertisements for Kemetic worship.

You don't know much about Egyptian history. Or, at least you didn't use to. Now you recognize the faces, though rarely do you ever remember the names of the many forgotten dead. You're just looking for one – one name, one bust, one dead man.

He's nowhere, not in the books you buy or the articles you read. When you sign up for an online course of ancient Egyptian history, you expect to see his face in a textbook, but he's not there. Sometimes it feels like you're the only one who remembers him, which is funny – you don't even know him. Either way it's a way to occupy the time, since you have so much of it lately.

The British Museum is reopening. There's a whole thing about COVID, of course, and the only way to enter is to get tickets online. Only a handful of people are allowed inside the museum at once, and since you don't hear about it until later, you are set to wait a month and a half before you can visit. Bitterness wells up in the pit of your stomach, but like most things you set it aside. None of it really matters anyway – yes, not knowing his name feels like drowning mid-air, but it won't kill you.

From the moment you reserve a ticket to the moment you can actually use it, you dream of him every night. Sometimes it's actually him, no longer a statue, taking your hands and leading you somewhere you don't belong. His skin is warm, unlike his statue, but just as soft as you imagined. His nails are meticulously cleaned and his eyes are bright, full of a life you're desperate to understand. It doesn't make any sense. You're yearning so deeply for him, for something you've never known before, and every second away feels like pure horror in your veins.

Why do you need him this much?

You look at yourself in the mirror, fixing a strand of hair that falls in front of your eyes. You're dressed well – at least comparatively to your former few weeks of dress – and a quiet excitement thrums in your heart. Today is a day you're going to go out, and to make it better you're going to the museum. They have an Egyptian exhibit. A foolish part of yourself hopes you'll find him there, nestled in the corner of a long and fruitful hallway filled with Egyptian statues.

It's... disappointing, to say the least, to find out there's only one room for Egyptian exhibits and it's occupied by only one thing, besides broken pots and stone dolls. The main exhibit's name is Ahkmenrah, a young Pharaoh older than the Great Pyramids of Giza. All information on him can be fitted onto a four by six stone plate. While standing in his room, surrounded by hieroglyphs you've been studying hard to understand, you look him up on your phone. There's little mention of him, but the one article you do find on him has a 3D recreation of his face. He looks white and you know the article's bullshit.

While absently holding a conversation with one of the curators, you discover there's a store of Egyptian exhibits kept underneath the museum that aren't fit for showcase since the downsizing. Whatever that means, you find a sliver of hope, one that pales quickly at the realization you'll never be able to go down there. They wouldn't let some random visitor (who wasn't even an actual historian) to go see closed off exhibits.

Fischer, the director of the museum, hires you four months after you send your resume in. The second he does you set your plan into motion – there's no time to waste.

The same day he gives you the keys, you're sneaking in under the cover of night. For some reason, the lights are still on in the main museum, but fortunately that's not where you're headed. You unlock the backdoor, sneaking through the night guard's break room until you find the door to the basement. Flipping through the keys on your ring, you quickly find the right one, shoving it into the keyhole and almost wrenching the door open.

You run down the stairs. It's almost sprinting, but you can't be too loud with your shoes. There's nothing in your mind except him, his funny little smile, the somehow soft alabaster of his skin. You need to get to him. Something inside you says he's here – he's here, he's here, and there's nowhere else you can be without your whole body combusting.

You stop dead in your sprint, chest heaving as you're faced with the open boxes filled with Egyptian busts. With frantic eyes you look them over, searching desperately for one familiar face, finding none until the very last open box.

It's here.

He's here.

The broken nose, the formation of the resulting scar, you recognize every. Fucking. Inch.

Each box contains little notes on who the statues are (if known), the material, the time period, and other such relevant information. Your hands shake as you reach forward, slipping the piece of paper out of the paper stuffing.

King Ahkmenrah

Date: ca. 3,100 - 3000 B.C.

Period: Old Kingdom

Place of origin: Egypt, Cairo

Medium: Ivory

Ahkmenrah.

Sudden clarity strikes you as it never has when you recall searching his name online. He's the exhibit. He's the mummy upstairs. He's actually here.

The blood in you freezes for a moment, caught up in shock and relief. Now you know his name. A small part of you is finally able to rest with the answer, but the rest of you knows exactly what to do – go upstairs. Find the exhibit. Lay at his side. After all this time you still don't know why, but the ache of neediness in your heart is enough to leave you weak to your inner desires.

Now that your head is clear, or at least unhindered by your questions, you note a worrying amount of sound coming from upstairs. Footsteps pound on the ceiling as you climb the staircase, leaving you curious and terrified. That many people shouldn't be in one place – it's a death wish for the modern plague. You grit your teeth, fingers curling up in to fists that dig your nails deep into your palm. Is it safe to go upstairs? There's definitely people up there and you have no idea who they are. The museum could be being robbed right now and you wouldn't have a clue. It's a death wish.

Why are you still going up the stairs?

Why are you opening the door?

This shouldn't be happening. There's enough people to fill the whole first floor, ranging from the public entrance of the museum to the African exhibits in the back. Almost all of them are wearing historical outfits, in such a wide array you might've thought they'd stolen them from the exhibits, had they not looked exactly like the wax figures. The marble statue of the Roman on his horse is no longer on its' pedestal. Actually, he's talking to a woman a few feet away from you, though he is still on the horse.

You should be passed out on the stairs going by how fast your heart is beating, but instead you stand in the doorway petrified. Your eyes sit wide, scanning back and forth over the crowd, searching for something you don't know of. With all the stimulus in front of you, you don't even know what to think. The exhibits must be coming alive. Does someone watch over them?

It's then, with little clarity in your head, that your eyes land upon the night guard. She doesn't look in the least bit rattled, so you easily assume she's used to this. Her calm is so alarming to you that you blink yourself back into your body.

These are... people. Just people. They haven't been put under some curse that'll bring chaos to the world. All they're doing is partying, and though the noise level is a tad unpleasant, it's just about as rowdy as some teenagers.

When you realize you aren't in danger, you bolt from your place at the door. Twisting through the gathered crowd, you slowly make your way to the staircase, ascending with quick feet as your eyes lock onto the Egyptian hall. It's a few more feet until you turn sharp, shoes squeaking as you slide into the room. The familiar gold lighting greets you, shining off the open sarcophagus, which you skid to a halt in front of as your lungs desperately try to catch up to your legs.

Of course it's empty. Your Pharaoh – or Ahkmenrah, you suppose you should use his name now that you know it – must be downstairs, where the life of the party is. Why would he stay up in this empty room, all alone? From here you can barely even hear the music that was once pounding into your ears. Still, for a moment you stare at the bottom of the vacant coffin, caught in the awe of such a long-standing history.

"What are you doing here?"

The words catch you by surprise, and in reaction you whip around, eyes wide as the voice continues, "who are you?"

My King. Before you can even process the thought, the words roll onto your tongue, but to your immense relief you catch yourself before actually opening your mouth.

"I..." it barely comes out with how little you've physically spoken recently, "I work here."

As usual, your voice carries that quiet, calm, slightly annoyed tone that makes people wonder why you're being so difficult. It's not really something you can control, but the King doesn't seem to notice. Maybe it's worked to your advantage this time; despite your racing heart and frozen feet, you keep an even tone.

"I don't think I've seen you here before," the King says, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer. You try to back up, but you're already pressed against the sarcophagus, and his glare keeps you from running.

"I just started today," you answer honestly.

"Ah," he says, his voice softer the moment he begins to believe you. "This must be rather alarming for you, then."

You're not afraid to admit he's right.

"A tad. How do you speak english?"

"I learned it during my time at Cambridge University," he answers. He's from over 4,000 years ago, so you know he didn't attend as a student.

"You were on display there?"

"Yes," he says with a bright smile, one that catches you entirely off guard.

It practically blows you away – his demeanor changed so quickly, from a stern Pharaoh to a sweet, young man who probably bought his girlfriend flowers every Monday. For a moment you wonder why you were so caught up in him before knowing him; now that you've heard his voice, seen the way he moves, your interest increases tenfold. It's not enough to see him. You need to touch him. You need it more than anything.

"I've been looking for you," you blurt out, but the words come out so slow it sounds like you consciously chose them. You bite the inside of your cheek as you watch his smile falter.

"What do you mean?" He asks. He's standing in front of you now – if you extended your arm and took a small step closer, you'd be touching him.

"There's a sculpture of you," you say softly, swallowing the lump in your throat, "but I didn't know how to find your name."

"How'd you find me, then?" He asks, but he looks less offended. Now there's a keen look in his smile and in his eye, like he's going to enjoy this, like he knows something you don't.

"Sheer luck," you say with a shrug. It's mostly true.

"I think I know you," he says, and his smile quirks further upward.

"What?" You say, trying to back up again as he steps closer. The sarcophagus is, unsurprisingly, still behind you. "How?"

"Back when I was a King, I had a slave my brother killed," he says in the least comforting tone, "but my father had this idea."

Another step closer. You can feel the heat of his naked waist on your shaking hands.

"See, he had a magician in his employ, and he would do anything for me. Especially since I loved that slave so dearly. Truly," he leans forward a little, placing his hand on the gold case behind you and trapping you against him. His chest is practically right against yours, but what you are close enough to feel is his breath, soft on your collarbones. "And so my father retrieved the soul with a special spell and sent it into the future, to possess another at birth, and to lie in wait until I called for it."

You can't feel your – well, anything. There's a pressure on your chest, but you can't tell if that's your wildly beating heart or just his warmth skewing your senses. All you can do is stare up at him wide-eyed. He can't be telling the truth. Magic doesn't work like that, it can't work like that, that's a sick story and he's telling it like it's nothing more than normal. Possessing a newborn child. Sending souls into the future. It can't make sense. You almost feel bad for your past self – under the employ of someone so cruel as to take a soul from the afterlife for his own pleasure.

But he's standing before you. He's 4,000 years old, and he's standing in front of you, pushing you against his own coffin and trapping you there. Do you belong to him, then? Is that why you can't get him out of your head?

"When did your search begin?" He asks softly, a gentle curiosity evident in his brow.

"A – about a year ago," you say, your voice so broken and shaky you're surprised he understands it.

"Last winter?" He asks knowingly, almost sweet, like he's doting on you. Then comes the part that really makes it shine; he reaches up and pets your hair, moving in long, soft strokes.

You nod, unwilling to meet his gaze any longer. How red you must be by now.

"I called on you then. It took you a little while, but I'm glad you made it," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Unfortunately, I suppose you haven't retained any memories, since you didn't know my name."

"I guess not," you agree quietly. "I just have instincts."

"Instincts?"

You're reluctant to share with him the many instincts you'd had even in the short time from meeting him to now. The pure need to touch him. Past You probably had a crush on him, and even though you aren't really that person anymore, there's a need inside you to hide that fact from him. 

"I wanted to call you my King when I first saw you," you admit, your voice still quiet in hopes of him not understanding you.

"You won't have to call me that anymore. Maybe a tad around my parents, but when we're alone you may use my name."

"When we're... alone?" You question nervously, heart pounding at the thought of spending more time with him.

"You do work here, don't you?" He says with a sly grin. "I think I'll be seeing you quite a lot."

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh God.

If this is how you react just from spending five minutes with him, you can't imagine spending whole nights at his side. You'd explode. From what you don't know yet, but the pulsing rush in your heart is strong enough to worry you, and very rarely do you ever worry about yourself. The words in your head – your immediate reaction – simply won't pass. You can't bring yourself to say them, so you say what he wants to hear.

"As long as you want to."

[oodlenoodleroodle]

Museality

A lot of people say - in a sort of compromisey way - that confederate statues shouldn't be just removed during protests, but that they should be put in museums instead. Most of the people expressing this idea don't work in museums. So I want to open up the behind-the-scenes work of museums a little to explain why I don't think confederate statues belong in museums.

The first thing is the concept of museality. Why does an object belong in a museum? It has nothing to do with age, and except in the case of archeological finds (stuff that has been in the ground 100+ years), it has very little to do with the object itself. What matters with a museum object is the data that is attached to the object. Who owned or used it and when, what happened to it after that, how is it exemplary of life in the past, stuff like that. Like what can the object say. Objects are material witnesses of life. A confederate statue's data is most likely "was erected X decades after the civil war and then stood there X decades after it. Birds have pooped on it." That is not interesting and the object is not a witness of the civil war because it wasn't there during it.

Now you can extrapolate a bit about the people who erected the statue, but by doing that you get into use of power re: what kind of language you use ("the statue was erected by people who are proud of their heritage of having tried and failed secession" or "the statue was erected by various white racists who were real keen on making sure black people don't get uppity" etc...) This stuff depends on the point of view, and the selection the point of view is a use of power. There is no "neutral" point of view.

Which gets to the matter of power. Museums are societal institutions that wield institutional power. The museum is often called society's memory, and that which the people who work in museums decide to be worthy of remembering is what gets remembered. This is a huge societal power to have. And that's why this work is (or should be) done by people who are (or should be) educated and highly trained to take this power seriously and to think about the ethical questions that come with museum work. (The International Commission Of Museums, ICOM, has ethical guidelines that all museums must adhere to.)

A museum is not a dump for any old junk. The museum professionals have to make decisions on what is accepted into the museum collection, and they are responsible for those decisions. What is selected into a museum is a matter of power, and museum professionals have to be careful to not continue to reinforce systemic power imbalances such as racism stemming from slavery. Is a confederate statue important because it stood in a place for a long time, when the reason it got to existing in the first place is because racist white people have held all the societal power since the beginning of the country? Do we have to store all the stuff that racist white people of the past thought was important, or should we make our own decisions of what we think is important to pass on to the coming centuries, and let the monuments that white racist people erected to themselves fall to the dustbin of history and use other ways (photos, text) to remember that there was a time when racist white people erected statues of slavers to remind black people in their communities to stay in their place?

The other matter of responsibility has to do with the museum's resources. When an object is in the museum collection, the museum is responsible for taking care of it according to the best practices of the field. That takes money, it takes storage space which also costs money. When you take in an object into the collection, you are at the same time saying no to other objects, because literally everything will not fit. You have to make choices. When you take in an earring, you don't say no to very many other objects, because earrings are small. But when you take in a huge statue, that will be taking up a lot of space, as well as be much more work in using (one person can carry several earrings in one go but you need a ton of people and equipment to even move a statue from one corner of storage to another, let alone to the exhibition space).

Removing objects from collections is a whole process. It is ethically unacceptable for museums to just get rid of things in their collections without a good reason, there is a lot of paperwork attached to it, and it again is a decision that the person making it will be responsible for.

And lastly, practically, museums' main jobs include doing exhibitions and giving access to collections to researchers. We don't want objects that will be impossible to put in an exhibition and that isn't interesting to researchers. And there are very few exhibitions that could use a confederate statue, and in most of those the statue could be replaced with a large photo of it. And there aren't a whole lot of researchers who are very interested in confederate statues, and of those even fewer who would need access to the statue itself and wouldn't be able to just use photos.

(Ironically, a confederate statue that was vandalised and ripped off its pedestal and tipped into the sea during anti-racist protests has as a result much more interesting data attached to it as evidence of anti-racist protesting in the early 2020s, and might be interesting for a museum now. But only if the museum professionals say they want it and are willing to put the resources into keeping it.)

To conclude: monuments and statues are not vessels that store history or memory of things. They are symbols of things we as a society think are valuable and admirable, they are expressions of societal power, and therefore we as a society should not be having statues of slavers, rapists, murderers, and genociders on fucking pedestals. They are for most part also not very valuable for museums as their museality tends to be weak, and they take a whole lot of resources to store, with very little exhibition or research benefit to be gained.

[litwitlady]

Date Nights (3/5)

Read on AO3.

ALEX’S BED

The hour for date night had come and gone not at all noticed by either Michael or Alex. Probably because Alex had answered the door half-naked and still dripping wet from his hurried, after-work shower. Or maybe it was the new olive green sweater Michael had been wearing, the color bringing out his eyes and slapping Alex in the face. Whatever the reason, they’d fallen into Alex’s bed less than one minute after quick hellos and blatant lustful stares.

It had been a long week and the science exhibit at the Roswell Museum of Modern Art wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Date night could wait.

‘You smell different.’ Michael nips at the lowest of Alex’s ribs, enjoying his sharp inhale and noticeable flinch. ‘Earthier.’ He bites at Alex again, harder this time and it earns him a harsh yank at his hair. ‘I like it. A lot.’

Alex pushes roughly at Michael’s shoulders, flipping him onto his back and straddling his waist. ‘New soap. They were out of my regular.’ He leans forward to press their chests together and repeats his action from earlier, jerking at Michael’s curls until his throat is fully exposed. Tracing Michael’s adam's apple with his tongue, he shifts his weight backward, grinding his bare ass against the crotch of Michael’s jeans and gasping at the friction, denim rough against his naked skin. ‘Why are your pants still on?’

‘You got distracted earlier, remember?’ Michael sits up abruptly, sliding an arm around Alex’s waist to keep him from toppling over.

Michael’s teeth tug lightly at one of his nipples, and it takes Alex a while to respond. ‘It wasn’t me who got distracted, Guerin. You’re the one who dropped to his knees where I could no longer reach that damn belt buckle.’

They both laugh, and then Michael suddenly falls quiet. Hand gently sliding around the base of Alex’s throat. Alex swallows, not knowing what to make of Michael’s fingers wrapping around his neck. But he waits, trusting Michael implicitly.

‘Tripp’s dog tags. They’re gone.’

It’s not what Alex had expected him to say, but he’s also not surprised that Michael noticed. ‘Yeah. They’re in the box with mine. On the top shelf of my closet.’ He massages his hands up Michael’s biceps and along his shoulders, resting his palms flat against Michael’s chest. ‘That’s where they belong.’

‘But Tripp means so much to you.’

‘I wanted Tripp to mean something to me. And he does. I just didn’t realize what he meant until recently.’ He clears his throat, fingertips tapping nervously at Michael’s collarbones. They haven’t talked much about Michael’s mom, and he’s unsure whether now’s the right time. Or even if there is a right time. ‘I don’t know how to talk about this.’

‘About my mom?’ Alex nods. ‘I want to talk about her. Especially with you.’

‘I let Tripp’s story get in the way of Nora’s. I wanted so badly to see the good in him that I didn’t see the harm he’d caused. The harm he’d allowed to happen to her for decades. Or, really, I ignored it.’ His hands move up to cradle Michael’s neck, fingertips disappearing into his curls. Emotion floods his face, forehead wrinkling. ‘If it was you in Caulfield, I’d never stop trying to get you out. I’d try every day. A million times. Until they locked me up next to you or --’

‘Or you died trying. I know.’

‘Tripp did nothing. Your mom deserved so much better. She deserved the sun on her face and the moon in her eyes and every single wish she’d ever wished on a star. She deserved you. To watch you grow up.’ Michael reaches up to run his fingers through Alex’s pillow-mussed hair while Alex’s arms wrap around him tight, nose buried in his neck. They sit holding each other for a long time, sifting through the ripple effects of their shared history.

Abruptly, Alex leans forward to grab something out of the top drawer of his nightstand. ‘When I finished reading the journal, I found this.’ He hands an old black and white photo to Michael. ‘She looks so happy and so much like you.’

The photo is of Nora mid-laugh. Head tossed back, cheeks rosy and eyes bright. Her happiness radiates off the page, and Michael can’t stop the tears that burn at the corners of his eyes. ‘It was a mess. Stuck between two pages, image garbled and half-gone. But you can find anything on the internet, so I looked into photo restoration and shipped it off. Got it back this morning.’

Michael runs his fingers over the picture, marveling at how complete and perfect it looks. ‘Thank you, Alex.’

‘You’re welcome. I didn’t really do much, but since we’ve started collecting old photos, I figured this one would be a great addition.’ They both glance over to the top of Alex’s dresser - really their dresser these days - where their yearbook photos sit in simple walnut frames that Michael had ended up making himself. ‘Or you can take it with you to the Airstream or wherever you want.’ Alex smiles at him and caresses the bare skin above the waistline of his jeans.

‘I like it here.’ He climbs out from underneath Alex’s lap and sets the picture of Nora next to his own. And it’s instantly clear how right Alex was. He really does look so much like this mother.

He steps out of his jeans before returning to straddle Alex’s lap, sighing at how satisfying it is to press their bare skin together. At how the magic in their touch never seems to dissipate no matter how many years go by. He kisses Alex quick and filthy, all tongue and teeth, pulling back with a loud smack of their lips. ‘Since I don’t think you’re ever going to get there on your own, I’m going to fill you in on a stupidly obvious secret.’

‘Yeah? What’s that?’

Michael cups Alex’s neck in his hands. ‘You are the good Manes man.’ He runs his thumbs along Alex’s jawbone, enjoying the scrub of stubble. ‘Fuck the past. There’s nothing we can do about it. But we get to make our future. And our kids will be the best of both of us.’

Alex’s eyes blow wide, and Michael knows it was a risk to say that out loud so soon in their beginning. The last time he’d mentioned wanting kids to Alex must have been high school. The days of agricultural engineering, dad bands, and dreams that hadn’t yet died.

‘Our kids?’ Alex swallows around the words. ‘Yours and mine? Ours...together?’

He tries not to jump straight to panic at the uncertainty in Alex’s voice. Tries not to worry that maybe Alex doesn’t think he’ll be a good dad which is what he sometimes worries too. Squaring his shoulders, he tells the truth. ‘That’s what I want.’ He needs to ask Alex if that’s what he wants too, but the words get stuck like putty in the back of his throat.

Alex’s eyes dart to the pictures on the dresser and then back to Michael. ‘You’ll be a great dad. Any kid would be so lucky to have you.’ He grabs Michael’s hands that are still clasped at his neck and pulls them down over his heart. ‘Your hands were made to build, to hold, to love.’

Michael threads their fingers together and kisses the backs of Alex’s hands. ‘And yours were made to protect, to create, to love.’ The air between them has grown thick with meaning. He laughs to relieve the tension. ‘I don’t mean tomorrow. We should probably start with a puppy. Or maybe a fish.’ That finally pulls a smile from Alex.

‘When you showed me the yearbook photo of you, my first thought was that I’d want our kids to look like you. That mess of curls, those big, hazel eyes.’ His smile stretches up to his eyes. ‘So yeah. That’s what I want too. One day. And we can tell them all about their amazing, brilliant Grandma Nora.’

Michael tackles Alex into the pillows beneath them, picking up directly where they’d left off.

[katchihe]

Taking a break from drawing to...write? Yeah! I've actually missed writing after so long. Not to mention I need the practice for a competition image lol

Featuring Corsen (Pokemon GO oc) with her team on hand Shiho (shiny Horsea), Titan (Arcanine), Sleepy (Snorlax), and Mint (Glaceon). But I can't go on further without saying that it also features some nerd we all came to love and hate. And his Salamence who just no.

I think it does get pretty long but I tried getting into the good parts haha. There is definitely a part 2 and I might post it soon, but in the meantime enjoy!

If anything needed fixing today it was certainly Corsen's jaw. The trainer couldn't keep her mouth shut since passing by the wooden doors of the museum. Left and right, up and down, everywhere she looked there was something exciting to see.

"This is amazing!" Corsen squealed. Slapping her hands to her cheeks smiling widely. The museum was full on packed with trainers and their Pokémon. Thankfully there was a limit to the sizes of Pokémon so nothing could be broken in such a priceless museum.  

From statues, to the first planes, to the first achievements, to the first texts of ancient civilizations, everything could be found here. Corsen hadn't even spent 30 minutes inside and her phone was about to burst with all the videos and pictures she had already taken.

"Hey Shiho look!" Shiho looked towards where his trainer pointed at. The fossil exhibition. Since she was young, she had always had a fascination for fossils. Even staying up super late at night to read all the theories and encyclopedias of each extinct fossil Pokémon.

"Let's go there first and then how about we go get some lunch?"

Shiho wiggled contently in his carrier in agreement, just by feeling his trainer's energy he too felt excited. At this Corsen wasted no more time and went into the exhibition.

Once again Corsen's mouth couldn't stay shut at the sights.

"Is that an Aurorus?!" The brunette gasped looking up at the elongated neck of the extinct Pokémon. The wings of the skeleton flapped in the superficial wind, to only think of how it would've been to have such a Pokémon be alive today.

"Wait until Blanche sees this! Now should I take a video or photo?" Corsen pondered opening up the camera on her phone. Crouching down the brunette faced her camera up, hoping to get a cool sideways shot, but to her dismay it only focused on the fossils' chest area.

"A little back." Corsen muttered taking a couple of steps back.

Nope.

"Maybe a little more?"

Nope.

"Ugh!"

Getting up in her annoyance Corsen walked back focusing too much on the screen of her phone. It wasn't until she felt her back hit something hard, and the sound of a book dropping, that she finally shifted her attention.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry!"

Back turned the stranger slowly bent down to pick up his book.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry I didn't see you!" Corsen apologized staying frozen in place. At the suffocating silence she bit her lip not knowing what else to say. She felt Shiho shift in his carrier staying silent as well.

After forever came to an end, the stranger finally spoke.

"Watch where you're going, pest." The man turned his head to glare at the brunette. Obvious anger, and disdain in his eyes. Funny how red is often associated with anger as his eyes were the full definition of it.

The stranger spoke no more and began to walk away without giving Corsen a second glance.

Corsen huffed exhaling a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Now the frozen air feeling vanished and she was free of its spell. Anger started to creep through.

"I said SORRY!" Corsen growled spreading her arms out in protest.

Shiho huffed alongside his trainer glaring at the back of the man.

"Whatever." Corsen rolled her eyes and turned back around to enjoy the museum. She wasn't about to let some insignificant incident ruin her day.

In a second her eye caught something interesting and her mind quickly forgot about the sour experience.

The sight was a golden hoop behind glass up against the near wall.

With peeked interest the trainer approached the compartment and looked up in awe. The hoop looked a bit rusty, yet it shone so brightly of gold in the evening sun that broke in through the high window.

"It is said this hoop once belonged to the mysterious Pokémon known as 'Hoopa'." Corsen read the metallic plate which stood in front of the display. "Legend says this Pokémon was first seen around 1,700 years ago. Hoopa would transport both objects and Pokémon through its many hoops. Those legends have never been proven true, but this hoop was found near Varanasi, India where the legend of this mythical Pokémon first began." 

"Huh well that's quite interesting." Corsen looked back up to the hoop. It looked so normal for it to belong to Hoopa. If that was even true. 

She had read many stories and theories about the mischievous Pokémon. Also seen those videos that claimed to have caught the Pokémon on camera, but none of them were true.

Much like Mew, those were just theories and made-up stories from the older civilizations of the past.

Walking down to the other section of the glass display Corsen then spotted a fossil. Squinting her eyes she tried to decipher the shape of it.

Shiho called to his trainer to look down on the plate.

"Aerodactyl. A Pokémon which became extinct around 150 million years ago. It lived in the prehistoric era where it reigned top predator. Being able to rip prey with its strong jaws, and fly as high as 250 meters up in the air with its strong wings, there was nothing that could possibly have stopped this Pokémon." Corsen read the metallic plate then looked up to the fossil once more. She still couldn't figure out the shape of it despite the massive size.

"Well still looks interesting." The trainer brought her camera up and snapped a photo of both the Aerodactyl fossil and the hoop.

"Maybe I can even make my own theories of these two." She laughed and began to walk away.

----

Later in the evening, Corsen sat at a café trying to mellow down from the long day.

She was immensely thankful to Blanche for having given her this opportunity, but was still a bit skeptical as to why they had decided to bless her with such a gift.

Corsen didn't want to pay no mind to it however, she continuously told herself it was something genuine that had come from Blanche's deepest part of their heart. Or something cheesy like that.

"Oh my baby is tired isn't he?" Ebony eyes dropped to Shiho who's head now lay limp against his trainer.

The Horsea slept peacefully giving no mind to his trainer as she caressed his cheek.

"But you're right it has been a long day." Corsen brought out Shiho's Pokéball and recalled the water-type. Taking off the carrier Corsen stretched her arms back with a yawn.

"I guess it's time to go hit the hay too." Getting up from her seat Corsen looked at her watch. 11:27PM. The hotel wasn't that far away, she could bring out Titan for a ride to get there much quicker, but the trainer decided against it last minute.

The night breeze felt quite nice and refreshing for a walk. After paying her bill and tipping her waiter she began the walk back to the hotel with the GPS in hand.

There was rarely anyone in the streets. Cars began to appear less and less the further she walked. It was such a somber ambient, one that started to cause Corsen both concern and worry.

It was the weekend and it wasn't so late in the night to not have both trainers and Pokémon out enjoying the night.

Corsen tried ignoring the nagging feeling in her gut and focused instead on walking.

"But what if a big scary shadow jumped out of nowhere?" Her mind began to wonder.

The trainer shook her head vigorously in return. She had Titan, Sleepy, and Mint in hand that were more than capable of holding themselves against anyone.

"Oh but what if something is behind you?"

Once again Corsen shook her head trying to rid her mind of such childish thoughts. Turning around she saw no one except her own shadow.

"I'm just delusional." Corsen muttered rolling her eyes in annoyance, but stopped mid turn when smoke caught her eye. It was up high and it looked like a fire a couple of blocks down the street.

The nagging feeling seemed to increase at the sight. Observing the buildings it looked to have been in the direction of the museum.

"That's odd..." Corsen placed her phone in the pocket of her jacket and began walking towards the direction of the fire.

The closer she got the faster her pace until she was on a full out run.

Turning the corner Corsen stopped abruptly in her tracks. Smoke and flames decorated the entrance to the Smithsonian. Eyes widened in horror at the sight.

Corsen started running once again towards the building but stopped once more when she spotted a cargo truck at the distance.

Two men carried a rather big piece of flat rock hosting it up in the back. Once the rock was secure they jumped in the back and closed the doors.

"A robbery?" Corsen furrowed her brows reaching into her backpack. Why weren't the alarms ringing? Where were the police? Where was anyone?

Bringing out a Pokéball she faced it towards the street. Through a beam of red light came out an Arcanine who looked at his trainer ready for action.

"Titan, I need your full speed right now." Corsen said jumping on the Pokémon's back. Titan nodded in reply lifting his body back up from the ground once his trainer was positioned.

With one final glance at the burning entrance Corsen and Titan began following the truck through the streets.

It only took seconds to reach the vehicle. Corsen held tightly onto Titan's mane as he ran at full speed through the streets. Despite his size he was an expert at agility, easily dodging parked cars and turning corners with ease.

"Titan! Scratch the back tire!" Corsen called as loud as she could through the wind. Gaining a bit more speed the Arcanine took one calculated swipe at the tire and it immediately blew out.

The rim screeched and sparked on the pavement before the truck fell on its weight and lost control. It ended up skidding to a stop and crashed onto its side.

"Steady." Corsen halted Titan who breathed heavily, ready for combat.

Out of the truck emerged three men who looked both bruised and confused. In their attire, a bright R decorated their chests. "Team Rocket?" Corsen felt a cold air hit despite the warm aura of her Arcanine.

Once they spotted the trainer and the Arcanine they called forth their own Pokémon. Dratini, Golbat, and Ivysaur. Their eyes shone red in the dim lights of the streets, at this the brunette furrowed her brows in confusion.

There was something off about those Pokémon, but Corsen wasn't about to sit around and figure it out.

Jumping off Titan's back the trainer readied herself as well.

"Titan, flame charge."

It was over as soon as it began. The three opposing foes dropped unconscious as well as their following companions. The rocket grunts recalled their fainted Pokémon and seeing as they were out of Pokémon to battle with, they began to retrieve.

"Wait until boss gets here. You'll regret this." One of them said before taking off at a run.

Titan growled loudly stomping the ground.

"No." Corsen placed a hand on Titan's chest stopping him from running after the man.

"Let them go, we have more important matters at hand." Corsen said approaching the fallen vehicle. She began to unhitch the back door letting it swing open before it hit the ground.

It was dark inside but she could barely make out the silhouette of the fossil rock. Bringing out a flashlight the trainer looked in relief and shock upon the Aerodactyl fossil. It was miraculously intact, except for some pieces of rubble that had fallen off the edges.

Jumping inside the truck Corsen ran a hand across the fossil. No cracks. Good. But why were they taking this specific thing out of all the objects in the museum? She was sure there were far more valuable objects in there than a piece of rock.

Suddenly her foot hit something metallic that swung across the floor. Directing her flashlight towards that direction Corsen spotted a ring. The Hoopa ring.

"What the hell?" Corsen stepped carefully around the fossil towards the ring.

Titan stood at the entrance of the truck, attentive to his trainer.

Grabbing a hold of the ring Corsen brought it up to the light.

Titan growled showing his fangs, partially scaring his trainer in the process.

"It's just a ring calm down." Corsen shushed the Arcanine looking at him while she placed her index finger to her lips. She had to admit she was still a bit jumpy from the events, adrenaline was running high.

Looking back down to the ring, Corsen turned it in her hand. Still looked as normal as when it was in its glass confinement.

"I could possibly keep this safe in my jacket." Corsen shakily opened the breast pocket of her jacket. It wasn't every day you had something so old and so valuable on your person. As for the fossil, Corsen frowned. She could possibly carry it back to the museum with Titan, but what if it fell and broke into a million pieces?

Another growl rumbled through the truck causing the trainer to break from her train of thought.

"Titan-" Corsen looked up ready to calm the dog but stopped. He wasn't looking at her.

A cold wave rushed through the brunettes body. Turning off the flashlight she began walking towards the entrance of the truck.

Without warning Titan let out a massive roar and launched forward and out sight from Corsen.

"Titan!" Corsen called rushing out of the truck and jumped out.

Titan swiftly outmaneuvered a Salamence on the ground. The massive dragon Pokémon looked wild in its eyes as it tried to swing at Titan any way possible.

In a second of distraction Titan yelped as the Salamence managed to land a hit. The Arcanine skidded back shaking his body. Crouching down with a growl he got ready to attack once again.

"Titan, are you alright?" the trainer called. Titan's attention suddenly shifted and so did Corsens'.

"Stop wasting so much time." A male voice said approaching the trio.

He looked to be of average height. In the darkness his hair looked pitch black, his attire had the same red R as the grunts.

Team Rocket. Again.

The man stopped next to the Salamence. He didn't bother looking at Corsen, his attention focused on the Arcanine who looked ready to tear him apart.

"Pathetic. You can't even finish such a weak Pokémon."

"Hey! Who the hell are you calling weak?" Corsen yelled feeling a rush of anger. She would personally get physical at anyone who had the audacity to insult her Pokémon, didn't matter who it was. She had even gotten physical with Candela's right-hand trainer, then again that mouth of his never shut.

The man glanced at the brunette, disgust in his eyes.

Despite the anger slowly clouding her mind, Corsen couldn't help but tilt her head a bit. She had seen similar eyes before, but where?

"Tch...how dare rifraff such as yourself speak to me?"

"What?" Corsen blinked. The anger taking over once again. "Oh so you think you're above me? Do something about it!"

Corsen lifted her hand and Titan flared his fangs.

"Only a fool would challenge me." The man gave a simple nod and the Salamence launched forward.

"Titan, bite!"

Titan jumped up in the air, the Salamence barely missed him by inches. Landing on the dragon's back the Arcanine dug his claws into the hard flesh before biting the back of Salamence's neck.

The dragon-type roared out in pain. It tried shaking off the Arcanine to no avail. Spreading its giant wings the Salamence flew up in the air like a missile.

Corsen rubbed some dust out of her eyes from the sudden wind. Looking up she spotted the Salamence flying in circles at high speed.

Soon Titan lost his grip and slid off the dragon's back. At this the Salamence turned and landed a massive hit with its tail on Titan causing him to come crashing down on the ground.

"Titan!"

Heart pounded fast. Corsen almost became deaf to her own beating heart. Her rival seemed unfazed by the battle, he stood starring off into the distance as if this was just child's play.

"Think, think!" Corsen grit her teeth together in thought.

Titan soon stood back up, a bit shaky. He growled towards the Salamence who landed heavily. Both Pokémon flared their teeth at each other.

"Titan!" Corsen called towards her Arcanine. He glanced at her for a brief second. The brunette gave a simple nod and he understood immediately.

Standing up straight the Arcanine's eyes began to glow a bright orange, light emitted from the dog's paws as flames began escaping through his teeth.

With a massive howl a ring of fire appeared around the Salamence who didn't move by the sudden display of flames.

3 pillars of fire erupted from the ground and began to circle the dragon. With a giant flash the pillars crashed onto each other and enveloped the dragon within them.

The fire was soon out and now smoke stood in its place.

This had to be it. There was no one before who managed to stay standing after a direct hit from Titan's Blast Burn.

The smoke slowly dispersed and there stood the Salamence, unperturbed.

It shook its body getting rid of the ashes before spreading its wings with a growl.

"There's no way..." Corsen's eyes widened, Titan mimicked his trainer's expression.

Without warning the Salamence flew forward and swiped at Titan who went flying across the street. Hitting a parked car the Arcanine fell unconscious to the ground.

At that moment Corsen felt frozen, unable to move. How the hell did the Salamence survive such a direct hit from Titan?

Quickly focusing back to the battle at hand, Corsen called out Sleepy the Snorlax.

If Salamence had such a high defense then Sleepy was sure to lower it quickly. After all tank vs tank always did the trick.

To her dismay the battle ended the same way.

In the eyes of the experts, Sleepy was a perfect specimen. Perfect attack power, perfect defense, and perfect stamina. But all of that didn't matter when he too landed on the ground unconscious after a couple of direct hits.

Corsen grit her teeth together, gut churned causing her nausea. She wiped the sweat off her forehead, thoughts racing a mile a minute.

"Alright then. Let's see how you go up against this!" Corsen took out her last Pokéball looking at the Salamence. She knew Shiho stood no chance against such an evolved and trained Pokémon as the Salamence, but she still had an ace up her sleeve.

Through a beam of red light appeared a Glaceon. At the sight Salamence looked to have smiled at the small ice-type.

"You're super weak towards ice attacks aren't you?" Corsen smirked, assured about her victory.

Salamence flew towards the Glaceon who evaded the first attack with ease.

"Mint! Icy Wind!" Corsen called towards the Glaceon. Landing gracefully the ice-type called a chant, the icy diamond on its head glowed in the dark and out of nowhere came a rush of cold wind.

Salamence growled at the feeling of the freezing wind. Flapping its wings it flew up high trying to dust the diamond flakes from its body. Opening its jaw it directed a powerful Hyper Beam down at Mint who barely missed it by jumping to the side. A crater now stood where Mint had once been standing.

Corsen's stomach gave another sickening churn. She had to end this quickly before Mint got seriously hurt. Looking at her opponent she wondered if he had any more Pokémon on his person, and if Mint would be able to uphold himself against them all.

The Salamence still flew up high in the air. Biting her lip in thought the trainer looked down at her Glaceon. He had to get close for this finishing move, and one that would be most effective to the dragon.

She knew she had a couple more minutes before the Salamence was able to use Hyper Beam again. Would she wait for it to come down, or would be bring Glaceon up?

"Mint." Corsen looked up at the Salamence in the air. Glaceon followed suit. "I need you to get close to the Salamence, if possible jump on its back."

Glaceon nodded in reply and began running towards a nearby tree. Jumping onto its branches the Glaceon launched up close to the Salamence. Corsen had always been impressed with Mint's agility. It was something he had always displayed, even as an Eevee back in the day.

"Icy wind!" Corsen called before Mint brought forth another gust of cold wind. This one was far nearer than the last, it even cause the Salamence to lose altitude in the process. At this, the Glaceon managed to land on the dragon's back successfully.

"Perfect," Corsen smirked clenching her fist.

"Mint! Finish it with Avalanche!" Glaceon began yet another chant as a cloud began forming above the two in the air. It didn't take long before snow started falling from the cloud followed by chunks of ice.

Jumping back down to the ground Mint managed to miss the avalanche; just in time as it enveloped the dragon causing it to fall back down to the ground with a roar.

Silence befell the street afterwards.

Corsen couldn't help but smile at her victory. Salamence was immensely weak to ice-type moves and Avalanche had been a direct hit to it, now there was no possible way of it to get back up.

Shifting her attention from the pile of ice, Corsen looked towards the Salamence's trainer. He was looking at where his Salamence lay buried. The brunette saw his chest heave in a slow sigh before turning his attention to her. In the dim light she saw the corner of his mouth lift up in a smirk.

Without warning a flash of red passed the trainer, followed by a cry of pain from her Glaceon. Corsen turned in time to see Mint land heavily on the other side of the street. Trying to stand back up from the hit, Mint couldn't lift his body and fell limp on the ground.

The Salamence roared in victory as it spread its massive wings in a big display.

Corsen's breath hitched in her throat. Her legs shook until they finally gave out under her.

"This is impossible..." she stared wide-eyed at the ground clenching her hands to fists. Her entire body shook, primarily in disbelief, but there was also a sense of fear deep inside.

"Don't be too disappointed. It was always going to end like this." The man finally spoke walking closer to Corsen.

The brunette looked up at him through the bangs that covered her eyes. Rage filled the endless pits of her black eyes.

She didn't know from where, but Corsen soon found the strength to stand back up. Standing in front of the fossil rock she blocked the entrance.

The man stopped, glaring at the brunette.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want with the fossil rock?" Corsen asked glaring at the man. He didn't get a chance to answer before the Salamence landed in front of the brunette.

It towered over the trainer casting an immense shadow over her. A breath caught in Corsen's chest as the Salamence inched closer, it growled showing its teeth at her. Being so close to the Pokémon she saw its glowing red eyes. She always knew dragon-types were prideful and dangerous Pokémon, but this Slamance was on another level.

Corsen didn't remember how she ended up on the ground seconds after. Perhaps it was the immense fear she had felt from starring at the dragon inches from her face, or perhaps it was the lack of air from the too-heavy of an atmosphere around them. She tried moving but her body felt too heavy; only managing to look up at the Salamence's trainer she saw his red eyes glare down at her. In that second it hit her.

The man from the museum. The one she had accidentally hit.

Corsen grunted trying to fight her own body to stand, but it was no use. Her world slowly faded until it was all black.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 17

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 17 - Provocative

All the lights in the auditorium dimmed, and the large powerpoint projection on the screen let out a bright glow. If audience had been excited about Tang Yin's painting, then they were ecstatic with the next item, or maybe they were just in shock. The image on the screen was a Song Dynasty Ge-ware bamboo incense burner. The whole piece was coated in a light green glaze. The iconic Ge-ware-style sharp cracks and dark lines stretched over the body of the burner. Its slim shape was truly elegant.

PSP guy's eyes subconsciously lit up, and his slumped posture suddenly straightened. This was a very pricey item. If it was genuine, a seven-figure auction price would be a generous estimate.

Lin Yan couldn't help getting excited, but Xiao Yu seemed completely uninterested. He put his fingers on the top of his back and snuck them underneath his collar. He stroked his collarbone with cold fingertips and leaned over and hugged him. He kissed the side of his face unscrupulously. Lin Yan couldn't pull his hand away. He felt so anxious and angry, quietly thinking about what the two thousand people in the audience would think. He begged that no one in the audience could see the ghost behind him. If anyone could see him. . . even jumping into the Yellow River couldn't wash off his shame.

He wasn't sure why, but the intimacy of this clingy ghost happening now wasn't as disgusting as it was when the events started. Lin Yan blushed. He knew that this ghost’s temper, and that whenever he resisted, the torment would never end. However, the constant comfort could always calm him down. As the saying goes, "Whosoever understands current events is a great man." Lin Yan grabbed Xiao Yu's hand and tugged gently.

The cold hand touched his face, then dropped back to his shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

Professor File Folder pushed up his glasses. He took out a safe from under the desk, twisted the combination lock, and took out the bamboo incense burner that was in the photo with both hands and placed it on the mahogany desk frame. A white spotlight shone down on it, and you could hear a pin drop in the auditorium. The silence audience cast their gaze onto the piece on the desk. The fine light green porcelain was covered in sharp cracks, and the shape of it was simple but not amateur. The white light covered all corners of the burner, giving the eye-catching piece a frosty aura.

This was the charm of antiques. Life goes on. Time passes. The people have long since died but the artifacts will forever remain. They are passed down through generations of people with money holding strong and unmoved throughout the years.

This was definitely the final piece, Lin Yan thought. The professor motioned him and the PSP guy to come up and take a closer look. Lin Yan tilted the incense burner and looked closely at the bottom. Experts look at porcelain and examine the exposed portions before estimating its age. If there wasn't any issues, then the authenticity of the piece could be determined almost immediately. However, when the precious incense burner was turned over, Lin Yan couldn't help but let out a gasp. PSP guy was also taken aback. After pondering, his expression eventually revealed what he was thinking.

PSP guy's reaction convinced Lin Yan that today was definitely going to be a tie. Just as he was about to put the incense burner back, the glazed pattern suddenly caught his attention. Something seemed off, Lin Yan hesitated. He picked up the incense burner to check it again and frowned.

"Why are you so slow every time? Do you need someone to do it for you?" After the PSP man finished writing the answer, he took out a stick of gum and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing indifferently while looking at Lin Yan.

Lin Yan didn't bother paying attention to him. He was able to determine the age at a glance, and there was no problem with the glaze color and the crack patterns. This thing was almost a perfect fake of Song Dynasty Ge-ware. . . But it was being handled by the professor personally. . . It was almost impossible to make a guess.

"... What do you think?" Lin Yan asked for Xiao Yu's opinion softly. Xiao Yu didn't say anything, but the expression in his eyes seemed encouraging. He wasn't sure why, but being watched by those eyes, Lin Yan suddenly had a little bit of confidence in his guess and even changed what he was originally going to answer. Xiao Yu held his wrist and nodded very lightly.

So be it, Lin Yan thought.

"Students, please reveal your answers." The red jacket skirt girl announced.

The two whiteboards turned around at the same time. Each had the same answer again: fake.

Professor File Folder nodded approvingly, and said: "It looks like we have a playoff today. Both are correct. This is indeed a fake." He turned to face the PSP guy. "I won't explain it this time. Instead, this classmate will explain."

The PSP man took the mic, and the sound of chewing gum echoed through the loudspeaker. Lin Yan cringed. PSP guy didn't care at all, and said casually, "In the Ming Dynasty Chenghua period, there were lots of imitations of Song Dynasty kiln porcelains. It's in good condition and valued at 3 to 5 million yuan."

Lin Yan's brow furrowed even more.

Professor Folder was very satisfied. He doesn't even care about the bs that the PSP guy just spewed. He nodded and smiled: "That's right, these students can make these conclusions in such a short amount of time. They have good eyes. They both have a future in this field."

After speaking, he clapped his hands together, turned to the audience and said with vigour: "This is indeed not a Song Ge-ware incense burner, but a Ming imitation. There are very few imitations of Ge-ware works made during the Chenghua period of the Ming Dynasty left. This is only a representation of the Palace Museum, which has extremely high historical value. It's said that this school has excellent students. I didn't believe it before I saw it today. It was worth the trip, haha, definitely worth it."

"I have decided to make a special case for these two, and give each of them a prize."

Lin Yan looked at Xiao Yu hesitantly. The latter pushed his shoulders forward, as if urging him on. Lin Yan gritted his teeth, turned his head and said to the PSP man: "No, you're wrong."

The sound of chewing gum suddenly stopped, and the PSP guy stared at him. "Excuse me?"

Lin Yan took mic from the host and stuttered: "This-this is indeed an imitation, no one is arguing that, but it's modern. Even with the exquisite craftsmanship, it probably wouldn't sell for more than a 200 yuan decoration piece."

As soon as he fell silent, the audience was in an uproar, and some even leaned on the back of the chairs in front of them as if they were ashamed. The PSP guy snorted to express his disdain, and squinted at Lin Yan. "You're kidding, right? You can't see the obvious Ming Chenghua Ge-ware piece. I've been studying this for so many years." After that, he switched off his PSP and curled his lips: "It's time to go back class and educate yourself."

If it weren’t for Lin Yan’s calm composure, he would've rushed over and punched him. His anger of being humiliated in public made him clench his fists, but Xiao Yu must've known what he was thinking and held his shoulders with both hands to prevent him from acting on it.

There was a sneer across the auditorium. Someone called out for him to get off the stage. Lin Yan's heartbeat quickened. The building energy of the audience made him a little panicked. He looked at Professor File Folder like he wanted confirmation.

File Folder was embarrassed. To be honest, he personally identified this bamboo incense burner before it went into the Palace Museum exhibit. There was no debate about its authenticity. The purpose of bringing it to these events was not to re-appraise it, but only to serve as a typical example to teach students about the identification and collection of Ming imitations.

"It seems that this classmate is not very good at porcelain appreciation. Let me explain. When judging the age of porcelain artifacts, we must first look at the appearance of its base. This one has obvious characteristics of Ming Ge-ware, but it's an imitation of Song porcelain. Such things are called antiques in modern times, but at the time they were made, they were fakes. . ." File Folder gestured at Lin Yan that he could leave the stage. The corner of his mouth lifted, showing why young people should really take care of their skin.

Lin Yan was at a loss. He squeezed the armrest of the chair. He was so overwhelmed by File Folder's reputation as a leading porcelain expert that he didn't dare speak up. In all fairness, he didn't belong with a group of talented professionals. This time, he just happened to see a small contradiction and blatantly tried to argue with an expert. Lin Yan glanced at the darkened audience under the stage, and his stomach rolled.

A chill covered the back of his hand, another hand wrapping around his own. Xiao Yu stood beside him and tilted his head to look at him. There was no aggression, his eyes calm and serious. As if there was a steady stream of energy coming from the cold palms, Lin Yan felt funny. There were more than 2,000 pairs of eyes, yet only one ghost could see the truth. There were more than 2,000 living people, yet only one ghost was willing to listen to what he had to say. Xiao Yu's lips touched Lin Yan's cheek very lightly, motioning him to look at the incense burner in the center of the stage, and gently shook his head.

Under the dazzling spotlight, the fine porcelain's green glaze sparkled, and the cracked patterns were delicate and elegant. It was really beautiful. Lin Yan thought: The imitation was preserved because of its beauty, but the reality was left in the dark because of its cruel truth, turning into a coffin with decomposing bones.

"Go." Xiao Yu pressed his knees and said with great effort, ". . . Trust me."

Lin Yan took a deep breath, looked at Xiao Yu and nodded.

There was really only one way he could prove that this was really a modern fake. He walked around behind the square table and strode towards the piece on the stage. Before anyone had a chance to react, Lin Yan picked up the incense burner and smashed it on the ground without a second thought. There was a crisp sound. The million-dollar-priced treasure was broken into dozens of pieces and scattered on the ground. The PSP guy was stunned. The professor couldn't form a coherent sentence. The jeers from the audience stopped and the whole auditorium was silent.

Youth could be wild and energetic, but also incredibly stupid. Lin Yan stood stubbornly amidst the broken porcelain. Professor File Folder suddenly lost his composure. He leapt over and shoved Lin Yan's shoulder, his mouth opening and closing, unsure of what words to even say. The commotion from the audience grew louder and louder, as if being fueled by a storm.

Lin Yan broke away from the professor. He squatted down and picked up one of the shards off the floor, selecting a piece of the base of the incense burner. He pointed out the incline of the fracture, stuffed the shard into the professor's hands, and said softly but clearly: "It's a modern fake. It's a shame to put it in the Palace Museum."

File Folder let out a distressed noise, his face flushed. Anyone who really loves antiques knows that compared to the high price of an antique, the historical value it carries was a truly priceless treasure. Everyone was waiting to see the professor lose his mind. However, even though he was furious, he suddenly raised his head and looked at Lin Yan in disbelief, and then stared at the broken porcelain piece. His stubby fingers rubbed the porcelain piece back and forth. He trembled: " How. . . how could you tell?"

The professor spoke very quietly, but the mic on his collar picked it up, and the sentence echoed across the auditorium.

Hearing this question, PSP guy also picked up a piece of debris from the ground and looked at it over. When he raised his head again, the expression on his face looked like he had just eaten shit.

"Uh. . ." There were several things he wanted to say but they were all caught in his throat. Lin Yan has this problem. No matter what the situation, he never has any trouble when he speaks to a friend, but when he is alone in a large group arguing with others, he often freezes up because he lacked self-confidence.

Xiao Yu held Lin Yan, fingers tightly interlocked with his, standing side by side. His whole body was also cold like a piece of porcelain. After a while, he slowly calmed down, and cold lips gently tapped the side of Lin Yan's mouth.

He. . . was on his side. This thought made Lin Yan relax a little. After taking a few deep breaths to straighten out his thoughts, he explained: "Because of the temperature of the kiln, no matter how accurate the imitation of Ming Ge-ware porcelain is, there is still a slight difference in the direction of the cracks in the glaze of Ge-ware porcelain. The glazed surface of this incense burner has the characteristics of the Song Dynasty, but the exposed base has the characteristics of the Ming Dynasty. There is only one possibility for two eras of craftsmanship to appear on one piece; that is, contemporary counterfeit.” After finishing speaking, he added: “These kinds of frauds only started appearing within the past two years. I. . . I also took a gamble. I didn't think I'd be right."

The professor stared at him blankly, and hissed through his teeth: "You. . . you took a gamble? What if you were wrong? What if you made a mistake!" He tapped his feet twice, and finally gave up. He slapped the surface of the desk and said in a deep voice to the audience: "The students here are truly amazing."

After thirty seconds of silence, the audience burst into thunderous applause.

Lin Yan scratched his hair. He looked at Xiao Yu embarrassedly, and said softly, "We won."

He swore that this was the first time in his life that he has seen this ghost showing the expression of an ordinary person, looking very proud. Xiao Yu gently hugged him from behind, his long hair rubbing against his face. Lin Yan didn't avoid it. He was a little grateful for this ghost, even a little dependent on him. His palms were soaked in a cold sweat. Lin Yan gave Xiao Yu a sideways glance and rubbed his wet palms on his clothes.

Professor File Folder took a sip of water. He took out a pen and memo from his book bag, and looked at Lin Yan with interest: "Classmate, what's your name? Come to me when the lecture is over and I'll engrave it for you."

Lin Yan took two steps towards the professor and decided on what he wanted engraved.

"Xiao Yu. "Xiao" written as the character for "dejected", "Yu" written as the character for "sweet smelling"." Lin Yan explained. . .

The professor's smile dropped immediately, and his face changed in an instant.

[darlingsdevil]

Of The Valley (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 6: MIA

Summary: Life in Jackson is never easy. Consoling angsty teenagers, wading through the mysterious waters of Joel’s romance language and with a child of your own on the way? Life is about to get a lot harder.

CHATPER WARNING: This chapter contains mentions of teenage drinking and smoking weed.

Tag list (comment to be added or removed) @sidepuff @joelsheartache @fangirl-inthe-us @cowboyfrazer @scarletpines @mikah-writes @sleepylunarwolf @mr-robot-x @shybookdragon @heughan @writer-jamie @nelliecraine

Of The Valley Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

•••

You fell asleep on the couch once you calmed down, you wanted to sleep for the night and worry tomorrow. Yet loud knocking on your door in the late hours of the night awoke you.

You jolted awake and looked out through the window from your spot on the couch, seeing a shadow of a person through the curtains.

Another loud knock.

“Alright! Fine! I’m coming!” You shouted, angrily throwing your blanket off of you. You unlocked the door and looked at the visitor.

“Dina?”

“Hey, Y/N. I’m really sorry for waking you up so late and probably Mark too, I know this is super out of the blue but, do you by any chance know where Ellie went?” She asked you. Dina wasn’t on your list of people you had avoided, she was constantly in the bar with Jesse. Dina was the life of the party, with her came laughter and excitement, she was easy to be around, which is why you never avoided her. There were no expectations from her, she was just a kid that was kind and didn’t push. You hadn’t seen her nearly as much as you used to, or anyone for that matter, but you never outright refused to be around her, or cross the street when you saw her walking your way.

You shifted in your spot, straightening yourself up. “No, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just that I don’t know where Ellie went, I looked around town and everything but she’s not here,” Dina said, worry slowly filling her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where she went. Maybe ask Joel?”

“I just.. don’t want to worry Joel or put anymore strain on them,” Dina explained. “But I just figured since you went on patrol with them she could have mentioned it.”

“No, she didn’t mention it to me. Any chance she could have snuck out?” You rose a brow. Teenagers snuck out all the damn time, it was no secret, though rarely anyone mentioned it. It was an unspoken rule, teenagers even in the apocalypse were rebellious.

“It’s probably the most likely choice.. I’m just worried because it’s so late and she almost always tells me beforehand or invites me along too,” Dina rambled, her hands fidgeting at her side as she explained it to you.

“Have you told Maria, Ellie’s missing?”

“No, Maria would kill Ellie if she knew she snuck out.” That was true, considering when teens usually snuck out they smoked pot and drank alcohol, you didn’t want Maria searching for a dopey drunk Ellie.

“Yeah, I would tell her if Ellie doesn’t come back by sunrise,” You suggested. “Where’s Jesse by the way?”

“We got into an argument earlier, I just didn’t want to bother him, you know?”

You understood that well enough.

“I’m going to go out looking for her, I just wanted to make sure someone knew where I was going too, sorry for waking you, goodnight.” Dina was ready to leave, but you pulled her back. You could leave Jackson for an hour or two.. you had done it for a full night, besides you couldn’t let a teenager go out there by herself. You couldn’t let her wake up Joel or alert Maria either, both would make Ellie only angrier. You didn’t want to leave Jackson, much less two days in a row, but if you had done it before you could do it again. It wasn’t patrol either, you would probably find her within the next few hours. She couldn’t have gone far.

“Woah, woah, woah. You can’t go out there alone, especially not during the night, I’m going with you.”

“Are you sure?” Dina asked.

“Yeah I am, let me go get my coat first, I’ll be right back.” You fetched your coat from your room, grabbing the pistol hidden in your dresser, you never wanted to pick it up again, or even have to use it, but there was no way you would leave town without it. The last thing you wanted to do was use it on hunters or infected — no matter who you were shooting at, you didn’t want to be the one to pull that trigger. But if it came down to life or death, you would use it, even if every ounce of your body screamed in protest, you would disregard it, you had used your rifle yesterday, what was a pistol to that? You still had work in the morning and was putting yourself in harm's way while pregnant really the best idea? It didn’t matter.. you needed to make sure Ellie was safe. You returned to Dina, she was biting her nail gently, her brow furrowed.

Once you stepped outside you realized how cold it had gotten, you could see your breath as you exhaled.

You waved the gun in the air, showing it to her.

“Any chance you have your gun with you?”

“No, I went to her house first and then got caught up looking for her, I forgot to bring it with me,” Dina explained.

“Hold on. There’s another gun upstairs, I’ll get it,” You replied, turning around and walking over to the staircase that led up to his loft. Mark had a stash of guns in his room, as protective as he was of all of his belongings, you were certain he wouldn’t mind you letting Dina borrow one. It wasn’t like he would be needing them anytime soon anyways.

But you hadn’t stepped foot in his room since it happened.

You opened the door up to the staircase, your head feeling like it was going to explode. Your heartbeat so loud in your ears you were sure even Dina could hear it. Every step was a louder groan from the creaky steps that resonated in your ears, you walked as slowly as you could. It was dusty in the staircase, it had been a long time since it had been used.

When you finally reached the top step you were ready to turn back around, tell Dina that you couldn’t find it. But you needed to open that door and let the memories flood in. You were having a child, if that wasn’t a new beginning you weren’t sure what was.

You weren’t ready to confront it all head on. The first step in a long road to recovery, it wasn’t something would happen overnight. But you had to start somewhere, maybe you started yesterday when you began reconciling with Joel, or stepping foot out of Jackson again, picking up a gun and doing the job you were meant to do. Regardless of when you started, that door was meant to be open, and you were at the very least ready to see what was behind it.

Even if you were terrified, even if you wanted to turn back. That door had to be opened.

You gently turned the knob, stepping inside the room. You felt like an intruder, like you had stepped into a scene you weren’t supposed to be in.

It looked different than you remembered.. everything had a darker hint to it, like the room had completely lacked life in the way that some abandoned places did. There was no presence, no feeling of being watched, just a room devoid of life..

Yet it also looked the same, his bedsheets still ruffled from that night.. his band posters littering the walls, his dusty record player in the corner. His snake plant by the window that had long since died. His never ending piles of flannels too.

It was almost too much, seeing his things left frozen in time, knowing that Mark would never return to this room. You had neglected everything he had so meticulously created, whether it be the plant he miraculously kept alive for years, the records he claimed needed to be heard regardless of how obscure they were, you had forgotten about it all. And now there was not even an energy in the room, like the life of the room itself in there had died with him. Now there was not even a presence of him, just a hallowed husk of a room.

There was something out of place though. Mark’s dog tags sitting on the knob of the dresser. He never took them off. Why were they here now? You could have sworn he was buried with them..

Maria.

It had to be Maria. When had she snuck up here? They looked like they had been there for awhile, collecting dust and all. Was the photo he kept in his pocket here too? You looked around the room but could not find them, instead you found his gun in his bedside table, grabbing his dog tags and locking away the memories behind you.

You walked back downstairs to Dina, you handed her Mark’s gun.

“I hope I didn’t wake Mark,” She said sincerely, placing the gun in her waistband.

“You didn’t.” You shook your head, clutching the dog tags in your hand.

•••

You and Dina had to be smart, taking side streets and cutting through backyards to get to the West gate. Dina decided Ellie was most likely in three places, the lake, the ski resort or the art museum that had a rooftop exhibit overlooking the river. The lake was the closest and was your best bet, so you decided to go there.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to be out at night, especially considering you had work very early in the morning, but this was too early. You hoped no night owls were up to see you with Dina at such a late hour.

You led Dina to the small hole in the wall that you could both easily slip through, dodging the night guards and the spotlights, you hugged the wall as you made it far enough to where you could not be seen. Perhaps it was foolish to sneak out to look for Ellie.. but you didn’t want to risk her getting in trouble with Joel or Maria.

You were anxious being outside of Jackson.. like there was a threat looming around every corner, but you had to find Ellie no matter what. You were glad Dina came to you, even if you weren’t her first, or second choice for that matter.

It didn’t matter if you had work in the morning — or you were pregnant, you needed to find Ellie. That was all that was on your mind, finding her, and making sure she got back into town safely and under the radar.

Ellie could handle herself well enough, you were hoping she was fine and just lost track of time. But why hadn’t she told Dina earlier in the day? Did she just forget? Was she with Cat? You were cautious of Cat.. she seemed nice enough but seemed like somewhat of a bad influence, and Ellie’s relationship with Cat seemed to cause a riff between her and Dina. Of course though, it wasn’t your place to judge. Joel was clueless when it came to teenage romance.. or perhaps he wasn’t and just hadn’t put Ellie and girls together. You hadn’t ever asked Ellie about it, but you knew regardless and she never denied it. At least to your knowledge she hadn’t told Joel.. which was understandable, but you doubt Joel would care and would still love her regardless.

You and Dina managed to make it to the treelines, far from the gate. It was only then did you begin talking.

“I’m going to be so pissed if she’s just drunk,” Dina said bitterly, shaking her head. You held your gun more tightly as you ventured further out. The lake wasn’t far at all, a twenty minute walk at most.

“How often do you guys sneak out?” You asked, your voice a whisper. Dina walked close to you as you found the nature path that led to the lake. It had been so long since you walked that road.. at least three months.

“It depends. A lot though, more often in summer. Not usual for us to go out in fall though, same for spring. Winter we usually just go sledding. I’d say once a month or so,” Dina replied quietly.

You continued walking in silence before Dina spoke.

“Have you ever snuck out?”

“I have, just a few times. Even adults get ansty sometimes.”

“I guess that’s only somewhat shocking. The one person I could never imagine sneaking out is Joel, he seems too hardcore survivalist to any fun.”

“You would be surprised,” You chuckled lightly.

Dina whipped her head around to face you, her mouth agape in humorous shock.

“You’re telling me Joel Miller is a party animal?”

“He’s not.. that much of a partier,” You said, your voice very quiet.

“I can’t believe this. And Mark?”

“Yeah, Mark is the party.” Mark didn’t particularly like big parties.. he preferred smaller ones but he still knew how to let loose.. perhaps too loose sometimes.

Dina didn’t have much to say to that, other than that she could see that Mark liked to party. It was true, Mark liked dancing, music and hard liquor, he just didn’t particularly like large groups of people, as much of a social butterfly as he was.

You walked in silence for a few more minutes, your mind on high alert, glancing behind you frequently to make sure anything - or anyone was following you. You knew it was stupid to not tell anyone where you and Dina were going, or that you had snuck out, but you didn’t want to risk Ellie being caught. It was strange, you had completely abandoned her and Joel for months and now you couldn’t stand the thought of her getting in trouble at the expense of just doing something a normal teenager would do. Perhaps it was the weird new maternal instinct that magically kicked in.

It was uncommon for infected to be nearby town. In fact, it was very rare. There were constant patrols during the day within a three mile radius of town, infected were found and put down quickly. The guns were still another layer of protection, if Ellie was further from town there was a chance you would need them. You were still completely on edge, Dina was too. Being outside of Jackson was the last thing you wanted to do again, yet here you are, not even a day later.

You wondered why Ellie would leave without saying anything, especially to Dina. They were as thick as thieves, they really cared about each other, no wonder Dina was nervous. Ellie was upset when she came back with Joel the other day, maybe she just needed to clear her head. But sneaking out? That was uncalled for. There were quiet places in Jackson she could have gone to.

The top of the lake house came into view as you reached the peak of a hill. There was a small fire by the far side of the lake, next to the house. The lake house was not technically a house, and more like a mansion. It was a popular spot to sneak out to, considering it was one of the few places out of town that had electricity and wasn’t completely abandoned. Occasionally, Maria let people visit the lake every summer as a reward for their hard work.. though patrollers (once yourself included) liked to stop at the lake if they got back early.

“Think that’s her?” You pointed out towards the fire at the side of the lake. Dina nodded next to you. You were glad you didn’t have to walk fourty minutes to get to the art museum or ski resort, both being in opposite directions of one another. Unless.. that wasn’t Ellie. It could easily be hunters, but hunters liked to hide. They wouldn’t be out in the open though. The last time you came across a group of people it had gone worse than you could have ever imagined, you pushed that thought to the side.

The lake was mysterious looking, it’s dark waters glistening in the moonlight like it held many secrets. Three months ago, you stood here in the heat of summer, your shirt sticking to your back, waiting to jump into the water and pop open a can from a six pack, the sun beating down on the water making it shine brightly. But now it just looked cold and dark, yet not unwelcoming. Now the fall air was crisp, the leaves dark and crunch under your feet, your breath lingering in the air visibly.

You led Dina down the path to the dock, from there you would be able to get a better look at the people at the bonfire. It looked like a group, seven or so people. You stuck to the trees until the plants growing in the water were tall enough to shield you. You could hear loud laughter, whoever these people were, they weren’t particularly subtle. You figured it was most likely Ellie and a group of other rebellious teens.

“That them?” You said gruffly, peeking out from behind the plants, hearing the waves lap at the shore.

“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Dina mumbled, staring at the group by the lake. You couldn’t make out faces, but they looked like teenagers.

“Recognize any of them?”

“I can’t see much. It looks like a party though.” There were cans littered around the fire, at least from what you could see.

“It’s probably them then, come on, let’s go,” You said motioning for her to get up with you. Dina pulled herself up next to you, following you on the path to their bonfire. If they were drunk, you doubt they would notice you until you were right on top of them. Stupid kids.

As you got closer you could hear bits and pieces of their conversation, they definitely sounded like teenagers.

“Why do you think Ellie didn’t tell you?” You whispered.

“I don’t know, she could be with Cat.”

You wrapped around the group by taking the path into the woods so you could ‘sneak’ up on them in case they weren't who you thought they were. If you were quiet enough, they wouldn’t notice you until you were right on top of them.

As you got closer, Dina recognized them. She began walking faster to the group, louder too. She went far ahead of you. They noticed immediately.

“What the fuck was that?” You heard one of them whisper-yell. They all began looking around. There was no Ellie or Cat in sight.

You had to lightly jog to catch up with her as Dina made it out in the open.

“Dina? What the hell are you doing out here?” One of them asked, they all stood up. You recognized them, you didn’t know their names, having only seen them in passing.

“Do you guys know where Ellie is?” She asked, her voice slightly harsh.

You caught up with her, walking out in the open to meet her. The group stiffened, they kicked their beer cans to the side and one even hid her joint behind her back, you could still see the smoke, and there was no doubt most of them were faded. The smell gave that away.

“Uh yeah. She’s in the lake house with Cat,” The one who had the not-so-hidden-blunt said. You squinted at the lake house and saw that there were lights on in one of the bedrooms.

Dina glared at the house and lightly scoffed.

“Thanks. Don’t get too drunk tonight, be back before sunrise too,” Dina said dismissively, already marching her way up to the lake. The group behind you relaxed, already getting back to their teenage binge.

You kept a careful eye on Dina, jealousy bubbling underneath her. She knew that she shouldn’t feel that way with Ellie, especially considering she was off and on with Jesse.. at least right now she was. It felt wrong to be in love with her best friend, yet she also liked Jesse too. She was always jealous of Cat.. Cat wasn’t good for Ellie, anyone with a pair of eyes could see that.

“Were those your friends?” You asked her as you made your way up to the lake house, glancing behind you at the bonfire.

“Cat’s,” She replied plainly.

You remained silent for the rest of the way as you made it into the house. You remembered the last time you were here.. the party, with Mark. You had put Mark’s dog tags on, you could feel them lightly jingle each time you took a step. His necklace left a feeling of comfort in you, even though you had banished the thought of him for months, now here you were wearing his dog tags like everything was fine. Maybe it was, or was on its way to be. The only thing on your mind tonight was returning Ellie safe and sound to Jackson, not having a baby, not rebuilding your relationship with people you had neglected, not coming to terms with Mark’s death, only Ellie.

The lake house was very open, every room seemingly sprawling with dark wood accents and a winding staircase that led up to the upper floor. People mostly stayed (and partied) on the first floor, but the upstairs wasn’t completely off limits.

Dina walked swiftly up the stairs, her brow furrowed in anger. You tried your best to keep up with her.

“Ellie?” She shouted, you followed her. As you made it to the top of the steps, you heard rustling in one of the rooms.

“Just, stay there!” Cat called out, Dina didn’t listen. She found the room they were in and barged in.

Both Ellie and Cat covered themselves up quickly, you rolled your eyes and turned away. They were blushing madly and Dina glared at the two.

“Really? What the hell is wrong with you? Sneaking out, not telling me where you were going?” Dina jabbed, placing her hands on her hips.

“Ellie’s not your responsibility, you don’t have to know where she is all the time,” Cat hurled back. Ellie shot her a look.

“She’s my best friend. I think I have a right to care about her and make sure she’s safe.”

“Will you two shut up please? Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Ellie said angrily, pulling her shirt on. You stayed outside the room, leaning against the wall.

“Come on, get your stuff. We’re going back to town,” Dina said to Ellie.

“She’s not going anywhere,” Cat challenged.

“Oh yes she is. It’s late and Ellie’s very obviously drunk.” You couldn’t see inside the room, but you were sure there was alcohol in there.

You decided to split up the fight before it got any worse. As soon as you popped up behind Dina, Ellie immediately looked at you in confusion. You weren’t who she was expecting.

“We do have to leave, Ellie. It’s late. If Joel or Maria finds out that you snuck out, they won’t be happy,” You persuaded. Ellie looked very drunk, her face was pink and she didn’t look totally in the present. Cat was the same too, but a lot more angry.

Ellie looked over at Cat, sighing before she spoke. “It is late.. I’m sorry, I have to go back, Joel gets up in a few hours.”

Cat scoffed before rolling her eyes, “Fine. Just go. I’m staying.”

Ellie retrieved her things from the room, pulling on the rest of her clothes while you walked back into the hall.

“Is Cat always like this?” You asked Dina quietly, glancing over your shoulder to the room. You could hear them arguing.

“No.. I think she’s just angry, I interrupted her and Ellie. Cat and I have never really gotten along, but it’s never been like this,” Dina shook her head.

Ellie came out of the room, shame burning in her. You all began walking towards the staircase before Ellie began. The silence was thick and awkward.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it got.”

“You could have told me where you were going, Ellie,” Dina replied softly, both averting each other's gaze.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You didn’t interrupt them, you were just there as the chaperone. It wasn’t your place to judge either. Ellie needed a scolding.. but you weren’t the person to give her one at that time. You would need to repair your relationship with her first before you would be in any position to tell her off.

You were relieved that Ellie was safe and just lost track of time, you hoped she wouldn’t have too bad of a hangover in the morning. Considering how she stumbled occasionally and looked not so stable on her feet, you sure that she would atleast feel something in the morning.

You were damn tired, and you had work in the morning too. You just wanted to rest.

“Ellie!” Someone shouted angrily from below you, startling all of you.

“Holy shit. Maria?” Ellie cursed, her eyes widening. You looked over the railing to the lower floor.

Maria was there, and she was not happy.

•••