#the use of 'but' plants an argument that we Unfortunately don't ever get to see come to fruition

[burst-of-iridescent]

Aang was indeed a bad father. It's way past time we stopped making excuses for him.

An all too common defense for Aang is the fact that he's a monk and is not well-versed in how parenting looks. Yeah! No shit! But do you know who is well-versed? Katara! They talk as if Aang is a single parent like Toph but he is not. Katara's been on Aang's side since the day they met, always stood up for him, always complimented him.

Is this really the thanks she gets? Are they really that disinterested in explaining Katara's side of the story? As if her not getting a statue wasn't insulting enough.

Another major flaw in this defense is that Aang is not just a monk. He's the avatar. This means, part of mastering all elements also means embodying all of the ideologies based on said elements. That includes elements/ideologies completely opposite of his own. His daughter's crack about Aang "cutting and running when things get tough" shows that he's learned absolutely nothing.

We never truly see him master all the elements, he just gets them and, more or less, calls it a day. I'm even beginning to doubt that he's truly mastered his default airbending and he just got his tattoos prematurely because the monks were impressed with his scooter invention.

Zuko got the privilege of understanding the ideologies of other nations, allowing him to grow, and unlearn any toxic masculinity lessons through them, and would blow a gasket if he ever saw a kid get mistreated by a parent in any way. Is it really any wonder why Zuko is the more popular character and the most requested choice for Katara, in comparison to Aang?

using the "but he was a monk!" argument to excuse aang's bad parenting is fucking baffling to me. even leaving aside that aang did have a father figure (or are we collectively ignoring monk gyatso?), i don't think you need to witness fatherhood in action to understand that showing preferential treatment to one of your children is a messed up thing to do. that seems like the kind of thing that should be common sense, especially when you're best friends with the guy who's walking proof of what happens when you play favourites with your kids.

truthfully, i also don't fully agree with katara being able to compensate for aang's supposed lack of knowledge. while i do believe katara was a good mother, and i don't think it was her responsibility to teach her own husband how to be a good parent, i have my doubts about how much, if ever, katara called aang out on his behaviour towards bumi and kya. if their relationship in atla was any indication, i suspect katara very much turned a blind eye (or at most tried to gently suggest that aang pay more attention to bumi and kya) to aang's flaws in this area, as she (unfortunately) does in most others. that's one of the reasons i was never able to get onboard with kat.aang, because katara is the only one of the gaang who is never able to meaningfully challenge aang, even when he desperately needs it. (the only time i recall her trying to push him to do something he doesn't want is in sozin's comet when the fate of the literal world depended upon it. not a good omen, methinks.)

the katara we knew in atla might not have idly sat by while aang favored his airbending child over the others, but the seeds for who she turns out to be in lok are already planted. it's not a stretch to see how katara's blind faith in aang, and her unwillingness to confront his flaws, could have easily led her down the path to the woman who would fail to stop her husband from neglecting two of their children.

it's no surprise that aang in lok is repeating all the same mistakes he did in atla, because his character arc came to a screeching halt at the start of book 3 and was never picked back up again. how are we meant to believe that aang ever became the avatar (yknow, the embodiment of all four nations in one) when he was still, at the very end of the show, prioritizing the values of one nation over the others?

truly the shocker of the century that people might prefer katara to be with a character who had a believable arc with well-written development and a satisfying conclusion, instead of the narrative equivalent of a brick wall.

[rarityroo]

Hey there is there anyway where we could get a Jax x younger sibling reader. Perhaps he gets into a argument with them and they run off crying because of what he had said to them. Than something happens to the reader and than Jax feels absolutely terrible but the reader ends up being okay and Jax gives them a hug<3

Digital disharmony

(Jax x gn!younger sibling!reader)

I really love writing for tadc especially the platonic fics. Thank you for sending this in and I really hope you enjoy this!

You always admired Jax, you followed him around, you copied the way he acted, and you did everything he did, but he didn’t completely love it. In all honestly, he found you very annoying. He still cared for you though.

He tried to encourage you to be your own person albeit using less-than-kind methods. Jax would tease you and even at times yell at you whenever you were practically on his tail from following him so close.

You have been trying to get Jax's attention all day, following him around like a shadow, but Jax's patience was wearing thin.

"Hey. Kid, can you give me some space for once?" Jax snapped, his voice tight with frustration. "I'm trying to focus here." Turning back to whatever he was doing, probably something to use against Gaggle.

Your brows furrowed at the reprimand, their own patience wearing thin. "I just want to spend time with you, Jax," you replied, your voice tinged with hurt. "Is that too much to ask?" You asked sarcastically, Jax let out an annoyed sigh, running a hand down his face in frustration. "Look, I’m clearly busy right now, okay? I don't have time to babysit you."

Your eyes narrowed, what was his problem? “Babysit me?" You repeated in disbelief, your voice rising with anger. "I'm not a child, Jax." Jax's temper flared at the defiance in their tone. "Oh, really?" he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm, his classic sadistic smile planted on his face. "Because it sure doesn't seem like it. All you do is follow me around, trying to act like me. It's pathetic."

Your jaw dropped in disbelief, "I just look up to you, Jax," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I really don’t care," Jax retorted, his voice growing with malice. "I'm sick of you following me around all the time kid. Just leave me alone.”

With that, you stormed out of the room, tears in your eyes, having heard enough, if he didn’t want you there then you’d leave.

After you stormed out of the room, Jax found himself looking at the door you left from, his anger slowly giving way to guilt. He knew he had gone too far with you, that his words had been much harsher than he had intended. But Jax felt he was too good to apologize, that’s what kept him from going back, kept him from admitting his mistake. He knew even if he really didn’t want to he would have to apologize sooner or later. He had to find you…

He did find you eventually, you sat just outside the tent of the digital circus, looking at the sky, or at least the pixel rendering of one. The tears in your eyes were still present but slowly drying as you tried to calm yourself.

Jax approached you slowly, the thoughts of what he said heavy in his head.

"Hey," Jax said softly, you turned to look at him, your eyes filled with sadness and resentment. You quickly wipe your tears, he didn’t need to see you cry. "What do you want, Jax?" You replied, bitterness lacing your voice. Jax swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to say. "I'm sorry," he said at last, his voice so quite you’d miss it if you weren’t paying attention. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just... frustrated, and I took it out on you. That was…wrong. I'm sorry.”

You looked at Jax for a moment, your expression softening ever so slightly. "It still hurts, you know," you said quietly. "Your words, I mean."

Jax nodded, he did feel bad, genuinely he felt so bad. “I know," He replied. "And I know you don’t have to forgive me, but…." Jax gives you a childish smile, trying to make you laugh. Unfortunately for you, it worked

You let out a soft giggle "I forgive you, Jax," You said.

As they sat there together looking at the digital sky, the vibrant hues of the sunset casting an ethereal glow over them, a sense of calm descended upon them. It was a moment of quiet understanding, broken by you.

"I'm glad we talked," You said softly, "I was afraid you’d never talk to me." You said with a small laugh, despite the real fear behind that sentence.

Jax nodded, his gaze fixed on the view ahead. "Me too," he begrudgingly admitted. Jax reached out his hand and pulled you into a hug. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes especially to you knowing how Jax was averse to affection.

[badkitty3000]

What job do you think Five would have pursued had he never time travelled (if he ever decides to leave the academy)?

This is a very interesting question and I had to think about it for a while. I love this concept that he would have a real, real-person job if his life had gone in a different direction, and it's one I have not put much thought into before. But I like it!

So, for the sake of argument, I'm going to say that if he never time traveled to the future, then maybe the team would have been a little closer and his relationship with Viktor would have healed some wounds. In which case, Viktor wouldn't have been so angry and there would be no 2019 Apocalypse.

With that little pesky problem out of the way, Five and the rest of the gang would have been left to pursue their own lives, etc. We already know Diego went into the police force, Allison became an actress, and Viktor was a professional musician. Luther was busy on the moon, Ben was busy being deceased, and Klaus...well, who the hell knows what Klaus was doing. So, that leaves Number Five.

It's weird to think of him doing something ordinary, like working in an office, or even as a professor as some have theorized before. Unfortunately, we don't ever get a chance to see what his interests or passions are, since he jumps when he's 13 and then the rest of the time is spent trying to save the world. We only know he's exceptionally smart and good at math, but it seems fair to say that if he never ran away, he'd develop some real hobbies and interests that would maybe turn into a career of some sort. What if he found he loved botany and gardening and became a biologist or opened his own plant nursery? What if he got really into cars and became a mechanic or auto engineer? Maybe he would have started to pay attention to Grace when she was tending to their wounds and decided medicine was his calling? It's kind of cool to think about the possibilities, but also sad since he never got that chance to find out, even for himself.

Which brings us back to the original question. I have only ever written Five as either being a hitman of some sort (either Commission, Mafia, or independent) or retired. Not very creative on my part for sure! But in one of my stories, I do have his grown son that has similar powers to himself run a tech company using their teleportation powers as the basis for it. I never go into detail as to what it involves, mostly because I'm not that smart to come up with something cool like that, and also because I figure most readers don't care.

However, I am going to make that my answer for Five, as well. We know (well, maybe not know but most of us assume) that Five used his knowledge of his powers as the basis for developing the briefcases for the Commission when he founded it. I would think he would still use that same knowledge to develop some sort of technology that would (hopefully) better the world, if he never had to create the Commission in the first place. Something very heavily science-based, very complicated, and very cutting-edge. Perhaps even incorporating time travel into the technology itself. Basically, he would be a much cooler, non-asshole, hot version of Elon Musk or Steve Jobs. He'd probably be famous and be on the cover of Fortune 500 or Scientific American or something, rolling his eyes at the interviewer's questions while checking his watch and sipping his coffee.

So, there you have my very convoluted answer to your very good question. If you were looking for a much more every day type job, then I would say he might open his own coffee house/bar that also offers axe throwing 😄

[wednesdaymunson]

Mine (Interlude)

Baby Daddy!Eddie x Fem!reader

Summary: It's the day after reader slept with Eddie and told him that she still loved him. Eddie finds out she's seeing Keanu. Eddie and reader decide to stop hooking up. Reader is in NYC to spend a couple of days with Keanu.

A/N: This was meant to be part 3, but the material written after was a little over the place, at this point it's still in outline mode while I work on a Kas request. So this is an interlude and I hope you enjoy 😊-reblogs and likes are most welcomed and I love getting feedback 🖤

Warnings: slight angst,smut,a dab of toxic Baby Daddy Eddie, fluff, special guest Steve, thigh riding, oral(m receiving). Drinking. Possessiveness. I think that's about it.

Word count: 2,453 give or take

Head Over Heels pt 2

''Fuck you!'' Was the last thing you said to Eddie when you called to tell him you were leaving for New York. It turned into a heated argument, him demanding you not to leave. You didn't like being that way with him, but where does he get off telling you, you couldn't leave?

You arrived at a loft that Keanu rented while he was in town. You were greeted by Harvey, the doorman.

"You must be Ms. Y/L/N. Welcome! I'm Harvey, nice to meet you. Mr. Reeves let me know you were arriving this afternoon. Unfortunately,  he hasn't made it back yet so I will be escorting you to his apartment." He smiled.

"Nice to meet you too,  Harvey. Thank you."

"Here we are, apartment 1408. If you need anything and I mean anything at all, here is my number. Don't hesitate. There's a few of us on rotation, Donavan will be your doorman tonight until the early morning. Here is your key Ms. Y/L/N and enjoy the rest of your stay."

You unlock the door and walk into the loft. It's adorned with paintings, sculptures, and other pieces of art. He had some guitars in the corner of the living room and a few plants throughout. You got to the small kitchen table and there sat your favorite flowers along with a card and box of sweets. You picked up the card to read. 

'Y/N, I'm glad to have you here with me. Please make yourself at home.- Always, Keanu.'

You decide to check out the rest of the place. The bathroom had a walk-in shower, a spacious vanity, mood lighting, and a big deep tub. It reminded you of a spa. All you needed was a glass of wine and a good book. The bedroom was cozy. It was dimly lit, dark, and heavy curtains to block out the sunlight when needed. 

The star of the room was the king-size bed. You flopped yourself on it and buried your face into the covers. You could smell him, and that brought a smile to your face and comfort. You feel a hand caress your ass. You quickly turn around to see Keanu.

"Hey, Beautiful." He smiled

"Hey, Handsome." You smiled back. 

He joins you in bed and cups your cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. He leans in and your lips press against each other, tongues swirling around each other, as he presses his body into yours. 

"Maybe we should do takeout tonight."  You grinned. 

"I would love that, but we've had plenty of nights in. You deserved to be taken out on the town." He cooed.

Keanu took you out shopping that afternoon. He was attentive to everything you touched and picked up in the stores. He would suggest items every so often, but his goal was to make you happy and as long as you were happy, he was happy. You were only there for a couple of days, but at the end of the shopping spree, you had enough to fill a closet and a dresser. You felt a bit embarrassed because you hardly ever buy this much in 3 months, let alone one trip. 

"Keanu! Why did you let me get all this?! I'm only here for a couple of days. We should take some of this back."

"Babe, did you want the clothes, shoes, and etc.?" He asked. 

"Yes."

"Then there it is. Whatever you want, your heart's desires, is yours. If you want, you can keep what you want here for when you come back." He beamed. 

The night came quickly. You were in the living room waiting for Keanu to finish getting ready. You made a phone call to check on Evelyn and tell her goodnight. You took a moment to admire your dress in the mirror. It was a dark red mini dress with a black floral mesh overlay. Keanu comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. 

"Absolutely stunning." He whispered. 

"You too." You smiled

"Good evening, Mr. Reeves. I see you're accompanied by a beautiful and I'm sure sweet lady. How did you trick her to come visit you?" Donavan joked.

"He told me he was going to put me in movies, but all the scenes take place in the bedroom. Obviously, our idea of movies differs." You quipped. 

"See Donavan, she's not all that sweet." Keanu chuckled. 

The driver pulls up in a black SUV. Keanu opens the door for you and helps you in. 

"You kids have fun!" Donavan shouts from his post. 

Dinner was great. Keanu took you to his favorite sushi restaurant. The both of you laughed and had great conversations. Luckily, you were sitting in a private area, so you could be as loud as you wanted to. As you finish your drink, you catch him staring at you. 

"What? Is there something on my face? Dress?"

Keanu laughed. "No, I can't believe I'm having dinner with the most beautiful girl in the world."

"Oh shut the fuck up!" You laughed. 

"It's okay if you don't believe me. The day I saw you, time slowed, everything was tunnel vision, and I thought to myself, 'She's so god damn beautiful..'. Then all these rose petals fell from the sky, and Prince was playing in the background." He chuckled. 

"Then I saw you again at some club and all I saw was you, I couldn't even hear the music. I knew then the universe had us cross paths again for a reason." 

Dinner was over, but the night was still young. Keanu suggested you both attend an art gallery. There, he introduced you to a few people. He mentioned your photography, paintings, and other works to the gallerist — they offered to set up a meeting in a few months to go over your work for a possibility of putting some of your items in the gallery. It was the fifth time the server came around with a tray of cocktails. You had been building up liquid courage to speak to these important people. The alcohol finally caught up to you, and you felt like you were floating in a world all your own. 

"You ready to go home, Sweetheart?" 

"Hmm? What was that?"

"Home. Are you ready to go home? It's getting late, babe."

"Oh, yesss. I'm ready to get outta these clothes." You giggled.

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

"No!... just a bit buzzed." You giggled.

"Okay, okay. Let's get you home, Princess."

Hearing him call you that name made your stomach do flips. It also reminded you of Eddie. Your mind started to wander off, wanting to know what he was doing, if he was taking this chance to find someone else and move on, or was he finally sticking to his words. 

"Here, take my blazer. You're shivering."

Keanu drapes his blazer over your shoulders while you wait for the driver.  He lights a cigarette and makes sure the smoke isn't blowing your way. He gets a couple of drags before the SUV pulls up. He puts it out, helps you in, and slides in behind you. Keanu takes his forefinger and thumb to grab your chin, and he crashes his lips into yours, tongues rolling over each other. You press your body into his, making your way to straddle his thigh, your dress rucked up, exposing your bare ass and soaked pussy. Luckily the privacy partition was up. 

"No panties and already dripping for me? Such a dirty girl. My dirty girl." He growled into your ear. 

He peppered your neck with kisses mixed with light nips. He kisses down your chest, then to the top of your left breast, and he sinks his teeth into your soft flesh. You let out a low moan and buck your hips, feeling the friction on your clit grinding against his thigh.

"Does that feel good, Princess?"

"Mm yes." You moaned.

"Do you want to cum for me? Be my good girl and cum, yeah?"

"Yes, I wanna cum for you ou." You whined. 

Keanu's hands run up and down your thighs while you grind your needy cunt on this thigh. You let out breathy moans, chasing your orgasm. He kept his eyes on you the whole time, taking you all in. You could feel the warmth filling your stomach. 

"We're almost home, Princess. I need you to cum now."

You bear down and start to move your hips at a faster pace. Your breathing became rapid as you reached climax, your nails dug into the back of the seat, skin prickling as you collapsed from pleasure. You rest your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. The driver taps on the partition. 

"That's my girl." He whispered. 

The door opens as soon as both of you are decent. Your dress back at its normal length, and Keanu had positioned his blazer to cover his bulge and the arousal you left on his pants. 

"Mr. Reeves, Ms. Y/L/N, I hope you both had a wonderful night." Donavan greeted. 

"It was great, Donavan. I'm glad Y/N decided to come." Keanu winked. 

The both of you giggled as you got out of the vehicle. As soon as he locks the door to the loft, you push him back against the door, your lips trailing kisses down his neck while your hand palms his hardon through his pants. Keanu groans, his hands moving up your dress. You slap his hands away. 

"No, let me be your good girl. Let me make you feel good. I've been wanting to do this all day." You smirk. 

You drop to your knees and undo Keanu's belt and pants, you release his hard, long cock, and pull back his foreskin to fully expose the head. Your mouth is already watering at the sight, you give him a couple of kitten licks, swirl your tongue around the head, and take him into your mouth. Keanu lets out a soft moan, his hand barely touching the nape of your neck. 

You pump his cock while your cheeks hollow, bobbing up and down. Drool trickles down his dick to his heavy balls. 

"F-fuck, Y/N! Your mouth feels so damn good! Please look at me with those beautiful eyes." Keanu begged.

You look up at him as you slow down your pace, your tongue running over every inch of him. You release him from your mouth and move down to tongue and suck on his swollen balls while you continue to pump him. He groans and bucks his hips. 

"Are you ready to cum for me, baby?" You cooed. 

"Fuck yes! Let me fill your mouth up, sweetheart." He moaned. 

You give a firm lick of the underside to the tip of his dick and shove his cock to the back of your throat. You hold yourself there for a few seconds and pull back with his cock covered in spit, trailing from your lips. You take him into your mouth again, quickening your pace. You place your thumb on his sweet spot while sucking on the head of his cock, trying not to break the seal. Your free hand was gripping his thigh and you could feel him tense up, he was so close. You applied a little more pressure rubbing on the sweet spot. He inhaled sharply as he grabbed the back of your head. He stilled himself before he grunted while filling your mouth with hot ropes of cum, spurting into the back of your throat. You held still until you knew he was done and you swallowed around him. Keanu helped you up and kissed you deeply. 

"Babe, you're fucking perfect." He breathed.

The next morning he took you to breakfast. The restaurant was busy, but he was able to snag a booth tucked away in a back corner. Breakfast was full of smiles, giggles, and light touches. Keanu excused himself to the restroom. As you moved your food around your plate, a strange gentleman took Keanu's place. Once you processed the face, you realized who sat across from you. 

"Y/N, sweetheart. Why didn't you call me to let me know you were in town? I find it kinda rude seeing that I'm Evelyn's godfather, that you didn't hit me up." Steve said with a smug look. 

"Hello, Steven. This was an impromptu visit, so I didn't think this was something to alert the presses about. I'm sure you're super busy with your coke whores and other illegal extracurricular activities." You smiled. 

"Don't be like that, honey. You know I'm never too busy for my best friend and his lady."

"When did you and Keanu become friends?" You snarked. 

Steve gave you a deadpan stare. 

"You know who I meant."

"So I'm guessing Eddie told you I was here and to spy on me. Hmm?"

"Not spying, just making sure you were okay, no funny business going on. He loves you, Y/N. Give him a chance."

"I know, Steve. I love him too and always will, but I have strong feelings for Keanu. I think it's too little too late for Eddie and I."

Steve breaks eye contact with you to look up. 

"Y/N, is everything okay?" Keanu asked. 

"Yes,  everything is fine. This is Steve, Evelyn's Godfather. He's from Hawkins as well, grew up with Eddie." 

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Reeves, big fan." Steve gets up and extends his hand. 

Keanu shakes Steve's hand. "Nice to meet you as well. If you don't mind, my lady and I would like to finish our breakfast."

"Of course! Y/N, next time let me know when you're in town, I'll set something up. Now, if you excuse me, I have some things I have to tend to."

You gave Steve a small wave. 

"Are you sure you're okay? You know I can read your face."

"Yeah, it's just Eddie being Eddie." You sighed. 

The rest of the day was spent taking in the sights and enjoying good street food. Keanu joined you on the way to the airport and escorted you to your terminal. While you both stood at the window watching the planes, he held your hand. You laid your head on his shoulder. 

"Y/N, I want to make this official. I really like you, like a lot. I want to take this chance and see where it takes us." 

"I would really like that. Are you sure you're ready for the craziness that is my life? " You laughed. 

"I'm more than capable of handling that, and you're worth it." He smiled

It was time to board your plane. You said your goodbyes. It would be a few more months before he came back to L.A..

A/n: I wanted to include "Fade Into Me" by Mazzy Star, but tumblr was being weird with it and not letting me update.

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Taglist: @winchestergirl87-blog @bimbobaggins69 @micheledawn1975 @sidthedollface2 @aysheashea @browneyedgirl0222-blog @mandyjo8719 @sweet-villain

[cravingbro]

Friday Stroll

siblings oneshot au : 2,5k words — hurt-comfort, travelling, gallery date, city walk, quality time, quarter life crisis, public argument, harsh words, suicidal.

“I feel so useless,” he suddenly shouted as he stood up from the sofa. He looked desperate and unfortunately that was not the first time. So I asked, “What makes you think of that?”

“I achieve nothing in this age. Maybe they were right, I— uh …,” he stopped mid-sentence to look at a glimpse of his phone. I followed his eyes, then I saw a notification. There were red mark, so I assume that was his trigger.

“A failure?“ Another question came out of my mouth. He sighed and nodded. Had our mother were there, she would have confirmed his thought and told him to try harder, as if what he had done all these time was not worth to be appreciated. But I am not our mother. So, I came closer to embrace him and put my head on his shoulder. He automatically leaned his head on mine, then stroked my hair. We did this a lot. The hug, I mean. It has been a common thing for us and it never ceases to amaze me how comfortable it is to be hugged and to hug my brother, nonetheless what situation we were in.

“What’s so wrong in being a failure anyway? Are you becoming a parasite?” I whispered, asking another question since I had no idea what to do. “At some point, I will,” he answered.

“But you’re not,” I replied. He chuckled as he shook his head. "You see ... I always admire your optimism, but the world maybe different with what you really think," he uttered. I hummed without stating anything else, then he continued, "I wish I could live in the world you planted inside here." He knocked my forehead slowly before giving me a soft peck.

"What is it this time? Another no from company?" Finally I got the gut to directly ask and he nodded right away. "I don't know how long should I do this. If mom finds out—"

"She won't," I cut his words as I arose from his shoulder. "Let's go somewhere to heal first," I continued along with a wide smile, but he did not respond. Instead, he looked far behind me with empty eyes.

"Jaehyun," I called. He shook his head slowly and whispered, "Nope."

"Why not?" I raised my voice as I stood up. Then I pulled both of my brother's wrist to force him stand, but he did not move an inch.

"Going out means spending money. I can't spend anymore money if I'm not getting any job soon," he stated, made me froze instantly and mumbled, "Ouch."

"Money is our problem ... okay ... then how about free trip?" I threw a random idea, hoped his face would light up even just a bit. But he just gave a fade smile and shook his head.

"Oh, fuck! Why is your life sounds so hard to bear?!" I curse-yelled while stomping my feet on the floor. "You, my brother, you do not deserve this stupid sadness!" I continued, brutally pointed at his face.

"How is it stupid—"

"Whoever rejects you is stupid. You're the most hardworking brother I've ever known," I declared in such a loud voice. He covered his face with both of his hands then replied, "Of course, I am your only brother."

I was tongue-tight for a few seconds. But then I argued, "Well, your life is not just about getting a job, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Be a good brother and drive me anywhere I want," I insisted. He took a deep breath as he spoke, "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm being dead serious," I replied with a exagerrated-sharp look. He looked away for a few seconds and sighed.

"Okay, what's your plan?" He finally opened up to my idea. So I sat back and explained, "First, I want gelato! Then, we'll go to this gallery— wait, don't give me that look! This is free entry! I believe it'll take forever and the sun will set when we're in the gallery. So, in the evening ... we'll have street food marathon!"

He was quiet as I proposed my idea using my phone as the media. I showed posts from social media and he silently scroll down, zooming in and out, and read every caption carefully.

"Okay, if it's under—"

"Shut up. It's on me," I grabbed his lips with my thumb and index. "I'd like to celebrate your failure as a human-being," I added.

"Fuck!" he shouted. Before he reached me, I ran as fast as I can and changed my clothes. It took me approximately ten minutes to prepare, while my brother obviously did much faster than me. He turned the motorcycle on and I was shocked as soon as I arrived at the garage. I thought we would ride a car just like we usually did.

"We're on sudden budget trip," he said then pointed on my outfit. "I don't like you wearing mini skirt and crop tee as well. Change 'em quick," he demanded. I sighed as I walked back to my room.

When I got back, he pulled me closer, stroked my hair before put the helmet on me, then whispered, "Why would nobody wants to date someone as pretty as you?"

"Not this outdated pick up line again," I protested. He chuckled even when I flicked a finger on his forehead. Not long after that, we left our home.

"Hold tight," he shouted. I held his waist tight as he requested and he raced the street in rage. I guessed he somehow released his tension on our way to the gelato shop because when we arrived I could see satisfaction was already painted on his smile.

"Five minutes, I just break another record," stated my brother while he took off his helmet and shook his head. "Seems like you risk our life before. That was too fast and dangerous," I replied, pointing at the crowded street which he ignored. "If you hate how I ride, you should've do your own trip. Why bother taking me with you?" he yelled as he rolled his eyes. I sighed immediately since I started to feel that his desperation kicked in me as well.

"Why do you want to risk your life so bad everytime anything bad happened?" I asked.

"Why do I need to survive in a world that doesn't need me?" he replied my question with another question. Because of that, I rolled my eyes and hissed aggresively. I could not believe that he chose to argue with his own sister in a parking area.

"Then why do you have to do that in front of me? Every single time ... I've watch you desire death. Sometimes you say it out loud, sometimes it's just the things you did. You're so reckless and stupid—"

"Precisely, that's why I'm a failure—"

"But you're the only person I truly trust in this world," I raised my voice, causing some people secretly glared at us. They must be thinking that we were fighting as a couple. "Or am I the crazy one?" I added, after a while. He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes.

Later he grabbed my palms and locked my fingers with his, then whispered, "I'm sorry." Without a doubt, I put my forehead on his shoulder and sobbed, "You see ... I want to help. But I can't do anything. Everytime you go downhill, I can't even comfort you. It's like everything your sister did, doesn't matter to you. I'm so sad. I'd like to join you ... I don't know ... at least crying with you? But you kept saying it's not my business to worry. Why do you have to be alone all the time?"

"I don't want to drag you in my misery," he whispered as he put my palms on his pocket.

"But you look so lonely," I argued.

"But then I'll be fine. It's just temporary. You know that. You know me best—"

"No." I disaggreed. I kept repeating that word while shaking my head. Then I moved backward just to look into my brother's face and uttered, "You keep getting worse, honestly. It was just minor fistbumps on the floor, but now racing on the street. The way you channel your emotion ... I'm such a bitch if I said I'm not worry."

"That much?" he asked, followed by my nod. "You worry that much?" he repeated. I nodded once again.

"If I eat gelato and smile in front of you, will you stop worry?" he asked. My jaw dropped immediately, so I covered my mouth. He blinked several times, waiting for my respond.

"I still can't do anything to help you," I mumbled then laughed. "I'm sorry," he whispered another apology.

"Should I die with you?"

"Why would you even think of that?"

"I don't want to live in a world without you. But it seems like you find no joy in living anymore," I answered. My brother suddenly stood up and grabbed my wrist, then he brought me to the gelato shop without saying anything else. He even ordered a big cup lf gelato with three different flavors.

"Jaehyun ...," I called as soon as we sat down. Yet he avoided my eyes and ate his gelato in silence. I decided to quietly enjoy my gelato since I did not want to corner him even more. However, even without saying anything else, I could see that he was going to break. His tears were almost falling, so I touched his index and pinched it.

"If we're done eating, let's stroll around. The gallery is two kilometers away and the weather is nice," I stated.

"Alright." He smiled and quickly nodded.

Hence we walked along the street during that windy afternoon. I forced him to walk before me just so I could watch his back. He wore a white sheer-silk shirt and an oversized patterned pants. It was terrible choice of style, yet he still managed to look okay.

As we passed the street, I could watch him looking right and left, paid closer attention to his surrounding. Strangely, his steps went slower as our distance to the gallery got closer, as if he was lowkey enjoying our two kilometers walk. He did not even bother to check me who was five or six steps behind.

He entered the gallery first, but then decided to hold the door until I walked in. Then, he followed me to the ticket booth and glared. He must had sense my lie when he saw me taking out my wallet, so I said, "I have money too, you know—"

"You said it was free—"

"Free for you since I paid for us— thank you," I replied as I thanked the cashier while accepting two paper bracelets as our entrance tickets. Later I handed him the ticket but he just frown in disappointment. Thus I grabbed his hands and put the bracelet on his wrist.

"Lesson number one, my brother, you cannot control everything ... you cannot control ... your job seeking result ... you cannot control ... me ...," I murmured after we stood in front of a huge three-dimentional installation which was placed right in front of the entrance. "Sometimes you have no other choice, but to deal with it ... and not by faking it just to satisfy your sister, like what you were tryna do before ... but more like ... how I accept the fact that you'll always noisy when you play games ... or that you're so fucking annoying, bothering me like a real parasite whenever you're bored." He listened carefully as he locked his eyes on me. Meanwhile, I ain't wasting my money even just for a second so I keep focusing my view on the installation.

"You should've complained," he replied. I bursted out laugh before I slapped his cheek jokingly. "You think I never did? I've done that thousand times, yet you never listen. You're the stubborn one, yet the moment I accept it ... the moment I realized ... oh, this is just how my brother show his existence ... then it doesn't feel like a burden anymore. Turns out, I kinda feel empty when you're quiet or when you're not around," I described him, crystal clear, then he chuckled. Maybe it cringed him bad, but I did not care.

"I don't even realize it before, but ... sometimes it starts to creep me ... I'm scared knowing that I can lose you anytime—"

"You won't—"

"I almost did, Jaehyun, I knew it! You just never took it that far. But somehow I know you can and you will ... one day. That's why I keep dragging myself into— just please ... keep dragging me like this when your having your worst days," I begged as I held his shoulder tight. He held my hands that were on his shoulder then we walked towards another installation.

"You never have any idea on how much you've helped me, don't you?" he asked while deeply looking into a painting. I raised an eyebrow as a sign of curiosity. Few seconds later, he declared, "It's always you ... who see me go downhill and it's been you ... who I reach out first whenever I feel like I'm not myself."

"But I don't do anything significant—"

"Why must you? I don't need you to change my world to make me feel better. I need you to be my brake," he continued. "And you never fail me," he added.

He walked before me right after he widely smile, so I catched the rythm of his steps and walked beside him. "What's that suppose to ... mean?" I asked. He pinched my nose then answered, "As long as you're around, I know I'm not going to die."

I almost shouted had he did not shut my mouth with his palms. "We're in the gallery," he added.

"Don't fucking die! I swear to God if you choose to kill yourself from whatever happen in the future, I'll haunt your soul in hell," I threatened while giving him a middle finger. Instead of slapping my face for disrespecting him, he just whispered, "Ugh, rude."

"By the way the blue ice cream taste weird. Don't order that ever again," he implied. I gave an instant death glare then shouted, "Bubble gum is my favorite flavor!"

My brother tried to shut my mouth but it was too late. Few people already stared directly at us, so he apologized for the noise I made by bowing to every directions.

"Don't shout—"

"It taste good!" I added my complain, whispered. Yet the tension was there, it was shown through my neck muscles.

"It's too sweet for me—"

"But you finished that!" I argued.

"You stopped eating and spare too much blue ice cre—"

"Gelato," I corrected him.

"Blue gelato, yes. You said you were full—"

"You ate too little and I'm concerned. So I gave you my favorite flavor, but then you said it taste bad," I complained, moving my lips as if I was mocking him.

"I said it taste weird," he corrected me, followed by some hand gestures.

"Same thing!" I defended myself. He sighed as he rolled his eyes. He walked away from an installation and went for another while rambling, "I just got rejected by a company and here I am arguing in a gallery for a fucking ice cream—"

"Gelato!" I corrected him once again. But that time, my tone was not a serious flat tone anymore. It was giggly. Hence, he stopped walking all of sudden and I obviously crashed him. "Ouch," I yelled.

"Next time, I choose the flavor," he insisted. I almost complained but he was already walked away. I could heard him chuckling, so I cancelled my argument and kept it for myself.

"How about the other two?" I asked. He gave me a flash look before focusing on the installation ahead him. "Fine. I like plain yoghurt and pistacchio," he answered.

"I like it too," I cheered. He chuckled as he took his phone out. Then he took photos of me without saying anything first, but since I am a pro, I posed-on-cue.

The day passed just like that. It was always me forcing him to go here and there. Then he would state a dissagreement and complains. Then we would argue on spot. Then one of us would went silence because it was tiring and not-so-important.

The cycle went on and on. Yet in the garage, the evening we went back home, he said, "It was fun. Let's do this shit again in the future."

[theskyexists]

Ok so..... Uh. And then what.

Sad to see them all splatted in a way.

Oh NOW we get the stupid harshness of Solomon's law. Oh DAMN. What a way to do it

Ok well done

If jagganoth was invulnerable all along why even wait to kill the other gods like that makes no damn difference

Ok but . White Chain and Cio are immortal though. They've been reconstituted before.

Can't say that omniscient god made a convincing argument for staying still: after all she never said Allison wouldn't be happy again. And that was Allison's whole defense against the depressing reality of nothingness. Is the world amber? No point agonising if it's all set anyway. The chance of happiness over contentment in stillness. Why did goddess even bother cos she already knew what she'd choose. Why even bother showing up. I hate that kind of time omniscience it never makes sense

Ok so I guess cio is actually dead? Like how even.

Ok well I guess she's really dead. Never try and escape violence to tend plants.

I also find it hard to care about jagganoth. Or the story. Now. Time skips rarely work for me.

In fact, the violence truly tires and slightly sickens me now. Oh training sequence. Ok...? Who cares....

Really feel like Zaid should have said something like. Hey Earth still exists. But it won't for long. And millions of planets just like it....

Why r we doing this again, basically.

I feel like the numbers in this webcomic don't make a lot of sense. 'five million men' that's a fraction of earth's population. That's nothing. How is that a substantial army to a GOD who rules millions of UNIVERSES. Are the logistics impossible for anything bigger?

Well? Should you use violence, or not? Should you grasp power, or not? The story does keep on blathering about the risks of violence too much.

"if the world rewards violence, are we forever doomed to be ruled by the brutal and cruel" and then Allison is like ????

Hello? We've been going at this question a while. I'm tired.

Well yeah, its certainly nice to know you'll die only in 35 years. No worries then!!

Ok so white Chain is alive and Allison is alive and Cio died? What...the fuck?

So white Chain and supra cocky Allison at partying. I hate timeskips. No more reference to cio i guess. Ok so a reference to cio after all

Ok so there's a weird skeletal creature that's obviously cio out there and Allison was like: hm best to make her fuck off

I think the pacing of this might work better if I couldn't immediately read everything and had to wait for updates. We just HAD a big fight with jaggernoth. Now we're preparing for another big fight with jaggernoth.

Why is white chain still infinitely dumb. I don't wanna be a god cry cry cry

Just get on with it oh my god. It's just been 30 pages of Solomon saying: JUST GET ON WITH IT IDIOT. And unfortunately everyone has to agree

Did Allison seriously blast what's left of Cio? Oh the girls are fighting again. Why is that only ever the idea. How did she get an ivory....mask?

Ok....? And then she denies her the worm even.

Ok so there actually was another cycle with Allison being king then...?

Ok now i wait another three years

Just got used to the characters again since the time skip

Why are cio and Alison just always... Such pieces of shit to each othejrndnkaksndkdndn

Isn't the fact Allison will live another 35 years an OBVIOUS sign of future victory. Jeeze

[realityhelixcreates]

By Talos, This Can't be Happening pt 8: Shell Game

It's not like he did anything wrong.

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions @whocares-idont

?~?~?~?~?

Nobody ever got to tell him that sex and dancing didn't count as good exercise. Sure, he did more than that, but not quite as frequently. Still, his legs carried him to the city gates far enough ahead of the angry minotaur that the gate guards had time to call in reinforcements and get a few arrows off before engaging, so Swag just hid out behind them. The monster held its own even against three fully armed and ready guards, but once the robed reinforcements reached the gate, the battle became a foregone conclusion.

Blasts of fire and lightning, blades of ice, and flashy bolts of unidentified energy filled the air, all of it eventually overpowering the beast and bringing it down.

Swag located Helix amid the mages, embracing her as fervently as a concerned lover should...

...and slipped the pouch full of treasure into her hands.

“Go back to the T&T, and wait for me there.” he murmured.

Helix recognized the serious tone in his voice, and left without argument.

Good timing too, as the guards hauled him aside for questioning.

“You damn fool!” one snapped. “You led it right to the city! What were you thinking?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Swag snapped back. “Just stand there and let it gore me? Of course I ran, what else could I do? It had already killed one of you guys!”

“What? Who?”

“Man, I don't know his name! He was one of the prison guards.” He showed them the mushrooms. “See? I was out getting these things for my...my...”

Oh god, Helix had actually called him her husband, right in front of a lot of people. They all thought...

“My...”

It was just a story. Just acting. Just say it you coward!

“My wife, she needed mushrooms. For magic stuff. And he was out there, I don't know why. Not my business. But this monster came outta the trees and dropped him. Of course I ran!”

“Did you see-”

“Sir!” Another guard rushed up the stairs to the gate. “Sir! There's been a murder! I just found Arnora Auria dead in her home!”

“Stendarr's mercy! Post someone at the door, don't let anyone in. You!” he pointed at Swag. “Take us to the body.”

“I can't find Tyrellius!” Another guard said.

“I have a sneaking suspicion we'll find him soon. Damnit! Two in one day? C'mon traveler, lead the way.”

Swag lead them out, skirting wide around the minotaur's corpse, and down the trail where the murderous guard still lay.

“That's your guy, right?”

“That's him.” the guard said grimly, kneeling next to the body. “Damnit Tyrellius, what were you even doing out here? Traveler, tell me exactly what you saw.”

“Uh, well, I was out getting the mushrooms, you know? The, uh, the missus really likes her plants, right?”

“Yes, she was wearing them off her shoulders when you two came in.”

“Yeah, well, I heard a scuffle, and I saw this guy fighting that big monster. It got him real bad, and then it turned around and saw me, and I just ran like hell. Not much I could do if one of you guys couldn't take it on.”

“Weren't you in jail last night?” Another guard asked.

“Yeah. Unfortunate misunderstanding at the Tap and Tack, don't worry, won't be happening again.”

“They put you in with Jorundr, didn't they? Is that why you went to Arnora afterward?”

“You were with Arnora?” the first guard demanded. “When was this?”

“Ah, well.” Shit, he really had been seen. Well how was he supposed to know she was gonna die? “This morning, actually. Damn shame really. She seemed really nice.”

Seemed.

“She saw me come out of the jailhouse and paid me to deliver a message to that guy. Said she would forgive him everything if he would just come clean about the money. Dunno what she meant, I just assumed it was between them. But I did it. Honest pay for honest work, right?”

The guard groaned.

“That damn money! Jorunder turned out to be a highwayman. He raided an imperial shipment and killed one of the escort. Poor Arnora never even knew until we came to take him away.”

Doubt.

“Tyrellius had been trying to get the location of those stolen goods out of him for days.”

“Sir! There's an imperial strongbox over here!”

“Really? Jorundr must have cracked then!”

“It's empty though!”

The first guard-their leader?-gave him a sideways glance.

“Okay, that's a few too many coincidences. Turn out your pockets and purses, traveler.”

He did, the perfect picture of cooperation. Of course, they found nothing but fresh mushrooms, the hygiene kit, and a scant handful of coins-ostensibly paid for the delivery of a message. It all checked out.

“Then where did it go?”

“Do you think Jorundr lied? That this might be a plant, and he hid it somewhere else?”

“He was so angry with Arnora. And he liked taunting Tyrellius. What if he sent him out here on a wild goose chase?”

Swag stepped back, silent, to let them lead themselves to their own conclusions.

“Uh, sir? This...doesn't look good.”

They had located Arnora's amulet, hastily stuffed into the dead guard's money pouch.

“Why does he have that? No, why does he have that? She was never without it! No, no, no, Tyrellius, you couldn't have...”

He turned to glare at Swag.

“Go back into town. Don't tell anyone what you saw here, and don't leave town until our investigation is over. We will hunt you down if you try to leave.”

Swag held his hands up.

“Whatever you say man. I'll be at the T&T if you need me.”

He booked it back, to find that Helix had already paid for a room and was organizing their precarious windfall. Little stacks of small gold coins, a handful of lumpy silver nuggets, a large pearl, a gold ring, and three faceted green gems he was sorely tempted to keep.

Well, he probably couldn't sell them in town. Not now that the guards had him in their sights.

“Dare I ask where you came by all this?” she asked as he locked the door behind him.

“Reclaimed loot. It's okay to steal from a thief, right?”

Helix shrugged.

“I'd say so.”

“Keep it on the down low though. City guard might come looking for it. One of their guys got caught up in the greed.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, cops.”

“Right? Anyway, we gotta stay put, cause I mighta kinda witnessed a murder.”

“You what???”

“Saw a dude get totaled by a friggin minotaur. Did you know there were minotaurs?”

“No, holy shit. You're okay?”

“Ran like the Flash. I ain't getting caught up in that. Oh, I got you these.”

He handed over the mushrooms.

“Oh, funnel caps. I can use these. You didn't touch them with your bare hands did you?”

“Uh...no?”

He eyed her conspicuously bare hands, holding the mushrooms.

“Some of them are very poisonous. Not these, thankfully, but if you are going to go foraging, you should know.”

“Sure thing.”

Right. He should know better than to go grabbing strange plants. He lived in Gotham, for fucks sake. He should know better than to grab strange anything. But this wasn't Gotham. This world didn't work the same way. There were minotaurs, for one thing. The only beastman he knew of was Waylon, and it had been a loooooooong time since he'd swum back into town.

Hopefully, he'd gone right back to the bayou and was living his best life, chowing down on Cajun food.

And maybe the occasional Cajun.

They divided the money up into uneven numbers between them, hiding bits of it away in boots, pouches, pockets. Helix slipped the ring onto her left hand. His eyes kept sliding back to it. It really was the perfect place to hide it.

?~?~?~?~?

[kipixxx44]

entry 4

7/30

i had a breakdown last night i think, not a bad one but enough to make me upset with myself but i woke up and let it go and now it's not serious anymore. i relapsed

bligh and i are on the phone as i write this. he makes me nervous. not in the bad way. we aren't really platonic (or, good at keeping it that way) and i don't think we're really romantic either, it's like a secret third worse thing. a thing that makes me nervous. a thing that complicates things. he told me that every time he gets close to me i find a way to destroy him which is valid (and true?), i've been told i do that to people and things and situations but it sucks coming from someone you care about, someone you love. i love him in a complicated way. a way that makes me nervous. i don't want to be with him because it's not sustainable, or realistic, his family and my family wouldn't do well together, i wouldn't do well with him, i'm not where i need to be in order to give him what he needs. or deserves, i think is a better way to put it. plus, he's moving. but i don't want to string him along or love him for an allotted amount of time and then he leaves and both of us end up hurt. plus, shit with jj would get really, really messy. complicated. that, once again, makes me nervous.

bligh is probably one of the coolest people i've ever met, no joke. he understands me in a way that freaks me out but i think it's mutual. he's tall and strong and his eyes are pretty and his smile is stupid and it pisses me off in a way that i've found i'm, unsurprisingly, very attracted to. he's creative. that's one of my favorite things about him. he's gonna be an engineer, and a damn good one. he's never not thinking and he's always doing something. skating, photography, guitar, baking, he knows a lot about plants because of his mom, but he's also done just about everything under the sun at least once. like crocheting. he says he sucks at it though. if i had ten bucks for every hobby bligh has had or currently has, i would have, like, a fuck ton of weed money. i didn't mention that bligh is also my smoke buddy. and my sneaking out buddy. and the person i sit with on the bus every day. anything that involves me could also probably involve bligh, we're cool like that. we can just coexist and it's comfortable. "our spot" has been deemed at the elementary school playground on the platform that's the perfect size for both of us to sit without his legs bending weird. (i'm only like, 5'1 for reference--) he has pretty good music taste, i've made him like fifty something playlists (that is an exaggeration) but he only knows about three or four. also, i taught him how to kiss. it was after we made a really good batch of brownies and the red hot chili peppers song my mom slow danced to at her wedding was playing. i hadn't kissed a boy in years. i think about that (him) a lot

i went back to school shopping with my dad today and it sort of turned into a mall trip because he asked me if i wanted clothes. the only thing my father and i ever really bond over is obligation. we do what we gotta do, as he puts it. that, unfortunately, is also all we do. he doesn't get my interests and hobbies and vice versa, we don't agree on most "intellectual conversation topics" so anything deep that could be discussed can and will, without fail, become an argument of some variation because i'm always too sensitive and he's never sensitive enough. so i grasp what i can, which translates into, if we go grocery shopping i can be in your company and you can be in mine and we will just be. and that's nice, i like just being. we haven't gone grocery shopping in a few weeks

i did see joey, though, which was cool. we talked about work and how we're really doing under everything, (he is, as always, "on the verge" and i am over it.) we also talked lots of hypotheticals. how many twelve year olds could we take on in a fight? how much does that number increase if we are armed with a metal bat? you know that big brother thing where they come up to you completely wordlessly, throw punches that would 100% hit you full force if you moved at all and then walk away after almost but not really beating you up? he did that a lot too. i don't see him often anymore but i like that we still have a sibling connection. he gives me really good advice on everything except kaz. that's another thing we talked about. every time the topic is brought up he just says she's a bitch and that he never went through what i did so he can't offer anything i haven't probably already heard. which is fine. i don't expect him to know what to say. kaz flew back in today so now i've fallen back into that weird thing i do where i have anxiety attacks before i go anywhere except therapy and to the park, with bligh

i don't have much else to write about right now so i'm going to cap this here and pick up tomorrow, probably

thanks :)

[tenshindon]

the whole “you’ve got bulma waiting for you” scene hits VERY different depending on whether you’re watching it in english or japanese I Have Decided It

[damonsvftie]

𝐆𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐭 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲

MASTERLIST☁️

Summary: Your toxic relationship with Draco Malfoy comes crashing down, when he treats you like some sort of ‘Blow-Up-Doll’ making you feel insignificant and inferior. After all not all married couples end up living happily ever after.

Note: PURE ANGST. Also there’s no happy ending im sorry yall! But sometimes it’s unrealistic for a happy ending all the time :( also based on the song ‘Gave it Away/Jason’s Song - Ariana Grande’

Yeah, you really tried

But I was planted all the lies you told me, oh

All the shit you've done

You can't outrun the way you understand me

PRESENT:

“I WISH I NEVER MARRIED YOU!” I yelled in his face, my face flushed with pure anger.

“All the shit you’ve done and you STILL THINK YOUR RIGHT? Is that your EXCUSE?” The last of my words exaggerating.

“I haven’t done anything to you and if you can’t seem to believe me then LEAVE-,” he firedback before storming away slamming his bedroom door shut behind him.

Marrying Draco Malfoy was probably the biggest regret of my life. I full on remember how significant that day was for me, especially when we completed our wedding vows. The kiss felt as if it were just the two of us and as if everyone else had disappeared. It felt like everything was a dream and now suddenly all of it came crashing down.

You acted like you bought me at a bargain sale

You don't even care

You focused your frustration on a small detail

Blew it out of scale, like my ponytail

I don’t even know what had gotten into him in the past year . He was the most valuable person in my life and he use to treat me like I was some type of royalty. His acts of love made our bond stronger and he was always there for me, wether it be the times I would cry on his shoulder or I’d cry tears of joy but all of it had changed. He wasn’t the same Draco Malfoy that I had known.

PAST EVENTS:

He started treating me like he had bought me from a bargain sale. As if I were insignificant. Things started taking a turn for the worst when he would lash out at me, for the most silliest reasons making me severely doubt myself. He no longer treated me like I wanted to and all I wanted was to be loved.

Well you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why should I listen

If you don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

'Cause I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

And I'm taking it right back

Our relationship was becoming heavily toxic. I wanted to leave the Malfoy Manor and never return back. I was done with him treating me as if I were nothing. I was more than beyond nothing because I for sure knew that I gave it away. I gave my all away.

Flashbacks of me shoving my clothes into my suitcase, after me and Draco had one of our biggest arguments ever, hit me like a slap on the face. Still somehow, I convinced myself that he was just going through a really dark time, since we had just gotten married after the war. I put my mental health aside side just because of him.

I'm no blow up doll, no free-for-all

No slave to your decision, ooh

Gotta find a way to break the spell

To get the hell away from those who block my vision

I neglected the horrible effects of the unhealthy relationship that I was in and how venomous it had really become. Every single week consisted of me breaking down, silently weeping in the corner of my room as I gripped onto chunks of my hair. The feeling of being unwanted and being inferior, lingered onto me as if it were to not leave any sooner than I had imagined.

Every single night we would have an dispute over the tiniest things which regularly ended with me sobbing myself to sleep while he would turn his back towards me, let alone comfort me.

It wasn’t until one day I decided to stick up for myself and not let some narcissist treat me like I was some sort of ‘blow-up-doll’. However it ended up worser than it should. I clearly remember how he had raised his hand to almost smack me but withdrawed, when I had told him that I had to get the hell away from those who blocked my vision.

He full on knew well that if I had left things would go downhill for him and his family.

You used me as a fragment of your grand design, hey

And you, you don't get to put me on your bottom line

You don't get what's mine, and I'm doing fine

The Malfoy’s, a wealthy pureblood family that needed another pureblood slytherin That would take their son’s hand in marriage. Unfortunately at that time I was dating Draco Malfoy. We would lay down onto the grass and admire the beautiful stars while planning what our wedding would be like.

Of course it’s every girls dream to find the love of their life, to live happily married with them but there was no point. The Malfoy’s were aware that if a muggle born or even a halfblood wedded their beloved son, then their reputation would be tarnished and the line of purebloods would no longer be carried out.

Each family event I attended, I felt as if they were using me as a fragment for their grand design, being to keep up the chain of purebloods, since anybody else who wasn’t the same as them was already out of the picture.

I had to put on a false mask and play pretend that I was the most happiest woman on the planet but on the inside I was physically and emotionally dying. There were times where it got to me the most. Just like our regular routine, me and him would argue and then I would be forced to go with him to an event. The whole evening I would feel melancholy and a part of me wanted to rip the expensive dress that was draped around me. A part of me wanted to throw the heels I were wearing in Draco’s face. A part of me wanted to mess up my hair and cry until my mascara came dribbling down my face.

Continuously, I had to repeat to myself that I was more than just his slave and that he just didn’t grasp whatever was mine. He didn’t have to right to put me on his bottom line and I was done playing games.

Said you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why would I listen?

You don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

I'm taking it right back, baby

Well you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why should I listen

If you don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

'Cause I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

I'm taking it right back, hey

Taking it right back, baby

Taking it right back

—

“I WISH I HAD NEVER MARRIED YOU!” I yelled in his face, my face flushed with pure anger.

“All the shit you’ve done and YOU STILL THINK YOUR RIGHT? Is that your EXCUSE?” The last of my words exaggerating.

“I haven’t done anything to you and if you can’t seem to agree then LEAVE-,” he firedback before storming away slamming his bedroom door shut behind him.

I packed my bags and hurried down the stairs to the entrance of the house, tears streaming down my face. Why was I crying? He was willingly setting me free after all the pain he had caused me. I was in complete disbelief when I had confronted him on his controlling and abusive behaviour and he completely denied all allegations that I had made against him.

He was blinded by his own actions. He stood glancing at me as I turned my head around one last time looking him in they eye. The pain he had caused me was becoming insufferable and he was finally letting me go.

“Don’t EVER come back,” he snarled, his eyes turning a dark shade of grey.

“Your in luck..,because I won’t,” my voice cracking as I picking up my luggage. I gave him one last glance as tears spilled down my face. Quickly wiping them away, I walked out of the Manor quietly.

I gave everything I had away and I was taking all of it right back. Starting from now

[fritae]

The Missing Piece (Chapter 8)

Anxiety.

gang! au / ceo! au

characters: dabi x female oc, lov, other original characters

status: ongoing

read on ao3 here.

I'm sure Mr. Lane has seen me.

With a groan, I take Dabi aside.

"You can go ahead, sir." I tell him quickly, glancing behind me to see if they're watching me.

Dabi looks over my shoulder.

"Is that what's-his-face?"

I shoot Dabi a look and gesture toward Aliyah. We may be friends but I didn't tell her the real reason I left NNTV. She thinks work became too stressful and I needed a break.

She doesn't know about the argument me and Mr. Lane had after I discovered his support of the Todorokis. Or about his cutting my salary and threatening to fire me.

Besides, bad mouthing a former employer is horrible professionalism.

"It's Mr. Lane. Go, go," I try shoo-ing him away. "I'll see you tomorrow sir."

But Dabi doesn't budge.

His eyes are trained on mine.

"I don't like that look on your face."

I groan. "What look? Sir it's just-"

"Like you're uncomfortable."

The comment catches me off guard and I quickly avert my gaze.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," I say quietly. "These are my friends."

But that only seems to make him more determined. Dabi turns to face me completely, his feet firmly planted in the ground and his hands tucked coolly in the pockets of his pants. He doesn't look interested in listening right now.

"What are you worried about?" He asks. "Is it him?"

I run an anguished hand through my hair. "Sir please. Please. What happened to not asking about our private matters?"

I don't want Dabi and Mr. Lane meeting. Especially considering how our last conversation went. I didn't tell Mr. Lane I was working for the Blaze, and considering how salty he was that I left after all these years, facing him once again fills me with anxiety.

"Alright I won't ask you," Dabi ignores me. "I'll find out from him."

My eyes widen and I pull him back before he could make his way toward Mr. Lane. Aliyah went to bring Mr. Lane to say hi. I feel my chest get tighter when I see him getting closer.

"See? I don't like that." Dabi eyes me with concern. He tsks and pulls a box from his back pocket. He tries to hand me a cigarette but I shake my head quickly.

Mr. Lane doesn't know I smoke.

And with the amount of anxiety pooling in my gut, it wouldn't even help.

Dabi shrugs, no longer facing me.

"I'm here," He says. The ice in his voice from earlier is gone. I look at him once more before Mr. Lane gets within earshot.

He gives me a small nod and reaches for me, his hand brushing against the small of my back in a way that sends electricity up my spine. "He's not your boss anymore. He has no power over you."

I nod and plaster a fake smile on my face as the short man approaches us.

I hope it's enough to hide my thundering heart.

"Ms. Aoki," His voice sounds as insufferable as ever. "Fancy meeting you here."

I nod my head in respect. "Mr. Lane. It's nice to see you so soon."

As if!

But already, his attention is off of me. Instead, he eyes Dabi up and down.

"Is this your partner?" He asks.

My face heats up immediately. "Oh - no sir. This is my, um - my new boss. Mr. Dabi?"

Just as I expected, Mr. Lane's expression darkens immediately.

I expect Dabi to extend a hand out for formalities. But his hands remains in his pockets. He merely gives him a nod in acknowledgement.

"So you've found a new company after all." Mr. Lane comments coldly.

"Yes. Yes sir."

"What's the name of your company, Mr. Dabi?"

"The Blaze." Dabi says. "I do luxury trading. Rina told me she previously worked for a broadcasting company - what was it called again?"

Mr. Lane's face hardens. "NNTV. We're a leading force in the industry-"

"Right, right. That company that always underperforms?" He asks apologetically.

Me and Aliyah gasp, glancing cautiously at Mr. Lane.

"I have a friend that works at CBS, you see."

There's a smile on Dabi's face.

"I haven't even heard of your company," Mr. Lane quickly counters, evil in his eyes. "When Ms. Aoki abandoned us in such a manner, I assumed she'd join a better known business."

"I'm not surprised you haven't heard of us," Dabi sighs, that same mocking tone in his voice. "You see, we cater to a highly exclusive audience."

Aliyah mouth drops behind Mr. Lane, looking extremely amused. I wouldn't be surprised if this becomes the subject of tomorrow's lunchtime gossip.

"I see," Mr. Lane smiles at Dabi but it is anything but friendly. "Anyway. Careful with this one." He tells Dabi. "She's loyal to the - " He rubs his fingers to his thumb to indicate money. "It doesn't matter how well you treat her, if she finds a better offer she'll run off on you. Looking at you now," Mr. Lane sizes him up. "it probably won't take long."

I didn't leave because of money you piece of shit! If you actually saw me as a person, you'd know that!

I feel Aliyah's eyes on me in surprise.

Great.

Now she thinks I'm making more money and keeping things from her.

I don't face her.

"Hm," Dabi says. "What do you define as a better offer? Because we certainly don't pay-"

Don't say that! I think frantically.

I clear my throat.

Dabi looks at me quizzically. But he understands soon enough.

"...her what she's worth. With how well she's driven up sales this past month, she certainly deserves every penny."

"With all due respect," Mr. Lane smiles apologetically, venom lacing his words. "A secretary who intervenes in your business, gives unsolicited advice, and tries to control decision making is not worth her price. There are many other qualified secretaries who will drive up sales, and do it better than she can."

I feel my heart fall.

Of course he would say that.

Mr. Lane thinks of me as disloyal now. Leaving NNTV so suddenly after all these years, I knew it would matter more to him than he let on during our last meeting.

He doesn't exactly tolerate betrayal. And being his secretary for so long, I've seen how he treats former employees enough to know how vicious he can be.

That's why I didn't want him and Dabi to meet.

My face reddens immensely at the mention of my frequent "interventions" and "unsolicited advice". Because Mr. Lane doesn't believe in teams, he believes in workers who do as they're told. That's it.

But considering how much Dabi cares about his space, the comment fills me with anxiety.

Especially given the conversation we had today.

Will he think this is a pattern now? Will it drive him further away from me - cause his lack of trust in me to balloon even more?

There's an uncomfortable feeling in my gut as my mind questions all these possibilities. I wish Aliyah hadn't seen me.

No.

I wish I just told Dabi I was busy when he asked me for dinner. I hesitantly glance at him, searching for any indication of how he's receiving this.

There's embarrassment written all over my face.

However, Dabi's expression doesn't change. He remains aloof.

Although on closer inspection, I think I see his jaw clench.

I feel my eyes water. Is he angry with me?

He should be.

Perhaps I am too talkative and opinionated for a secretary.

But Dabi's response makes me furrow my brows in confusion.

"She was a member of your team. Of course she would advise you. And intervene as necessary."

My eyes widen.

"It's as much her company as it is mine, so I do hope she does more of that for us in the future."

I look at Dabi in surprise, trying to figure him out. Doesn't he hate it when people intervene in his business though? Is he just saying this in front of Mr. Lane?

That's gotta be it.

Regardless, I'm grateful that he hasn't thrown me under the bus, using me as conversation material. Anyone else would happily listen and even share their own criticism of me to keep the conversation going. Especially considering Mr. Lane is realistically the more powerful CEO of the two. Anyone would say anything to get on his good side.

And part of me feels like Mr. Lane used me in order to shift to Dabi's good side too. After all, what manager doesn't love critiquing his employees?

Only Dabi didn't take the bait.

"I suppose I should thank you actually," Dabi continues, the height difference only further emphasizing the power imbalance in the conversation. Mr. Lane looks small for the first time ever, as he stands there looking up at Dabi. "If you hadn't let her go, our company wouldn't be in the place it is today. She's extremely capable, as you know. And such an agreeable team player, as well."

But instead of responding, Mr. Lane focuses on me with those murderous eyes.

As if it's my fault he was humiliated tonight.

How dare I go on to build up someone else's company. How dare I not cry and beg him to take me back, that I was sorry and have learned from my mistake. That I would never challenge his decisions again and be the loyal, silent employee he expects me to be.

I shrink under his stare, and before I know it, Dabi's hand is once again on my back.

He has no power over you.

I take a deep breath. "Unfortunately, Mr. Dabi has a prior engagement and we don't want to be late." I tell Mr. Lane. "But thank you for coming over personally to say hello. Hopefully, an opportunity for us to meet again arises in the future."

Mr. Lane nods coldly and walks away. He didn't even shake our hands before he left. Aliyah smiles at us apologetically and comes to hug me once again.

"He's a good man," She whispers in my ear. When she pulls away, she gives me a sly wink and my face reddens. She shakes Dabi's hand before she hurries behind Mr. Lane to the outdoor seating area where the rest of NNTV's administration and senior employees lounge.

And Dabi and I are alone once again.

[mulletpeters]

toothache of the mind

ship: peterpatter

rating: g

word count: 1938

tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, high school, 1990s, best friends, feelings realization, pining

Reggie gets braces for his sweet sixteen.

He doesn’t tell anyone―not even his best friends in the whole wide world. So when he walks into homeroom the Tuesday after his birthday, Luke nearly topples out of his chair at the sight of the metal wrapped around Reggie’s adorable little snaggletooth. Alex may or may not be hyperventilating, but Luke wouldn’t know. He’s distracted.

Reggie, for his part, is acting like Luke’s world hasn’t just been tilted on its axis in a dangerous way. “Hey, guys,” he says nonchalantly. “Sup?”

Alex recovers much quicker than Luke, though there’s still a glint of concern in his eyes. They both know how self-conscious Reggie can be, especially about his smile, so he treads carefully. “Hey, Reginald. Do anything fun for your birthday?”

They had their own party on Friday after school―Luke gave Reggie a new studded strap for his bass because the one he’d found in Bobby’s garage had started to look pretty sad―but Reggie’s parents are the type to force family time onto him any chance they get. Luke has a sneaking suspicion they only do it so they can use Reggie against each other in whatever asinine argument comes up that day, but it’s not like he can really do anything about it. None of them can, so Reggie is unfortunately left to his own devices when it comes to compulsory dysfunctional family celebrations. “Not really,” he says in lieu of giving any actual details; he’ll tell them eventually, but a crowded classroom is not ideal for dishing out his personal drama. “Got braces.” He shrugs, like his mom hasn’t made him feel like shit about his less than perfect teeth for most of his childhood. Definitely since Luke’s known him, anyway, and they’ve been friends since they were ten.

“Oh, did you?” Alex asks, and it sounds borderline sarcastic but he holds back most of his usual bite. “Let’s see ‘em, then.” He holds an arm out in a grand gesture like he’s giving Reggie the floor, and Reggie flashes the most hesitant smile Luke’s ever seen on him.

Luke swears his heart stops, but Alex is once again carrying the conversation so he does his best to tune in. “Oh, nice,” Alex says, approving of the red brackets stuck to the front of Reggie’s teeth with a slight nod.

Reggie returns the gesture, and he looks considerably more relaxed now that he knows his friends won’t shun him for something this mundane. “Thanks,” he tells Alex before turning to face Luke, and he looks a little apprehensive, like maybe Luke should get his brain to reboot so he can offer some reassuring words instead of just staring like a total weirdo.

Luke wants to say something about how red looks good on him, or how it’s cool that it’ll match his favourite flannel, or maybe he’d settle for even just a supportive thumbs up. What actually comes out of his mouth is, “How long do you have to wear them?”

Reggie gives him a funny look, head tilted and brow furrowed. “Only like, a year,” he answers anyway, and Luke wants to scream.

Thankfully, the teacher chooses that moment to draw their attention to the front of the room, and Reggie turns around in his seat so Luke can only see the back of his head. Luke sighs in relief, sinking further into his chair till his limbs are sprawled out into the aisle, accepting his defeat. It’s gonna be a long year.

-

Luke decidedly does not address the issue after that day. The issue being that weird fluttery feeling he gets in his chest every time Reggie smiles at him, or laughs, or talks, or breathes. Basically any time he sees the glint of metal in Reggie’s mouth, really.

It’s not like this is a new development, exactly; Luke has always had a bit of a soft spot for Reggie, a little bit of weakness. In the six years they’ve known each other, he can’t recall a time that Reggie just existing didn’t make his brain static out. The braces just made him recognize what’s always been true, even if he still doesn’t know how to make sense of it.

Normally he’d talk to his best friends about whatever’s on his mind, but he can’t very well articulate a dilemma he can’t comprehend to begin with. Plus, he doubts Alex would be any help, considering he’s got his own set of issues to work through, and he’d rather die than bring it up with Reggie himself. And as for Bobby, well. Bobby’s got the emotional depth of a puddle. So, naturally, he does the only logical thing there is to do: he writes.

He figures if Reggie’s smile is stuck in his head like a song, he might as well make it one. It’s what he’s good at, and it gives him a false sense of separation from the issue that grants a certain clarity he can’t get any other way. He jots down pages and pages of lyrics, curled up in his bed late one night, fingers itching for his guitar even though he knows his mom would kill him if she caught him playing at 1am again. So he just sits cross-legged on his comforter, hunched over his ratty old notebook, scrawling cliche lines about green eyes and freckles and an endearingly crooked canine.

It’s the sappiest thing he’s ever written. When he reads over it before school the next morning, he knows he’s well and truly fucked.

-

Reggie plops down into the dip in the center of the studio couch, inadvertently leaning onto Luke’s shoulder. “You working on a new song?” he asks, tilting his chin at the notebook on Luke’s lap like the question needs clarification.

Luke nods even as he scrambles to shut the book, shuffling loose papers to stuff them between the creased cover. “Uh,” he stammers, biting his lip. “Yeah, I am.”

Reggie just nods back, averting his eyes to look up at the loft when he realizes that Luke doesn’t want him to see the song. “Rad. What's it called?” He glances at Luke, offering a comforting smile that says Luke can tell him as much or as little as he wants.

And well, that's the thing. Luke hasn't given it a name yet―the song, or the bewildering cocktail of feelings that inspired it to begin with. So he looks up from his scratchy handwriting to Reggie’s lopsided grin and says the first thing his useless brain can come up with. “Crooked Teeth.”

“Oh.” Reggie’s smile slides right off his face and Luke realizes what he's done half a second too late. Reggie bites his lip self-consciously, fidgeting with the sleeves of the flannel tied around his waist as Luke scrambles to backtrack into less sensitive territory.

“It's about Bobby,” he blurts unwittingly. And technically speaking, it is a little bit about Bobby, mostly because it's a little bit about the whole band, seeing as they’re mentioned in one line of the second chorus. But Bobby’s not the point of the song, not by a long shot. Luke decides Reggie doesn't need to know that, though. Especially not when his face lights up at the revelation, conspiratorial eyebrow raised like Luke’s letting him in on some great secret.

“Oh, snap! Well, I won't tell him, but don't let him find those lyrics.” Reggie winks, and it's not like it’s an unfamiliar sight, but Luke’s heart stutters out of time all the same. He's just glad Reggie isn’t the type to ask to see a song before Luke’s ready to share it; Luke doubts he'll ever be ready to share this particular piece, but if he does show it to Reggie, it'll be his choice.

He laughs halfheartedly, more a forceful exhale than anything else, and lands a playful punch to Reggie’s bicep. “Sure, man.”

Reggie just smiles wider. It feels like a kick straight to Luke’s solar plexus.

-

“You told him it’s about Bobby?” Alex asks, but what Luke hears is, you’re an idiot. Luke looks down at his best friend―he used to consider Reggie his best friend too, but he thinks maybe Reggie is in a category all his own at this point―and frowns. “He got his braces off before we even met him.” Alex stands up, walking around his drum kit to pace the floor. “And you told Reggie it’s called Crooked Teeth before you said that? Dude, you know how insecure he is about―”

“Yeah, Al, I know,” Luke huffs, cutting him off. It’s not the title Luke would've consciously chosen, but it's weirdly fitting, in a sort of convoluted way. Like, maybe Reggie’s teeth weren’t the sole catalyst for this whole...whatever this is, but they definitely played a major part. Luke’s really gonna miss Reggie’s snaggletooth, okay? He resents Reggie’s parents for a lot of reasons, but forcing him to get braces instead of a real birthday present is pretty damn high on the list.

Alex, with all his anxiety-induced powers of perception, notices Luke’s internal struggle and momentarily stops wearing a hole in the floor. “You’re kinda wiggin’ out, man. Chill.” He holds his hands out in what’s meant to be a placating gesture, but the drumsticks in his fists sort of ruin the effect.

“You’re one to talk,” Luke mumbles, but he doesn’t mean it, and Alex knows that. He’s just confused, and stressed, and generally unsure what to do with his recent epiphany. “What should I do?” he asks louder, eyes pleading.

Alex goes back to nervously lapping the room, and Luke picks at a loose string on his guitar strap just to have something to do. “I dunno,” Alex says after what could very well be an eternity. “But I think you’d feel better if you told him.”

Luke’s eyes shoot up to meet Alex’s gaze, brow furrowing involuntarily. “You what?”

Alex walks over, planting his feet in front of Luke, clapping a hand on Luke’s shoulder that isn’t holding his guitar strap up. “You’re clearly upset about this, Lucas. Tell him.”

Luke is shaking his head before Alex has even finished his sentence. “Not happening.” He folds his arms like a petulant child, but it loses its effectiveness when his guitar gets in the way, a sad thump echoing through the room. “I wouldn’t know what to say, anyway.”

Alex cocks an eyebrow with a pointed look at the notebook sitting on top of Luke’s amp. “I think you already said it.”

Luke follows his line of sight, eyes landing on the folded corner of a piece of paper sticking out from all the others. He already knows what’s written on it―has the words memorized by now. They were written on his heart long before he put them to the page, anyway.

Bobby bursts into the studio then, Reggie in tow, and the moment is broken. They’re laughing about something Bobby said, and Reggie is as beautiful as ever as he throws his head back, and Luke thinks that maybe one day he’ll get the courage to tell him how he feels. He’ll ask Alex to work with him on the music to go with his lyrics, maybe even get Bobby to help with the melody. He’ll throw rocks at Reggie’s window and serenade him from his front lawn like they do in the movies, and his friends will back him up, and it’ll be perfect.

For now, he needs to focus on perfecting the songs they already have. They’ve got a show at the Orpheum next summer to prepare for.

[moon-riverandme]

And in the Beginning There was... Light, Film Rolls, and Controversy.

Watching old movies has always been one of my favorite pastimes. I love the cracks in the film, the oddly tinted placements of color, the quick, scattered movements of the actors, and the slice of an intertitle. It all just makes sense when I think of those first filmmakers who were trying to make sense of their new medium. In my journey through film, I will start at the beginning. Well, sort of the beginning. Our main topic of discussion takes place in 1903. So we’ve skipped over a few years… 15 to be exact. I’ll sum them up now because if I miss a beat I’ll ruin the scene.

Let's start in October of 1888 when Louis Le Prince has just recorded the very first film. It’s short yet scenic; his family gathers in a garden and for the first time ever - they move. A man walks across the screen, the rigid bustles and day dress of two women sway as they turn away from the camera - ergo we have a moving image years before Edison would invent the kinetoscope. Of course, most don’t know of Le Prince and in school I never heard his name mentioned. In fact, I only heard of him through a Buzzfeed Unsolved video. So what happened? Why did history remember the names Edison and Lumière but not Le Prince?

There were many entries in the race to create the first film. And of course, there are arguments as to what cinema is in comparison to a bunch of still photographs played one after another. Strange, I think is this argument. For film is a series of stills or frames played one right after the other. Nevertheless, in 1878, we have the famous images of a galloping horse caught by twelve cameras set up by Muybridge to capture motion and to study animal locomotion. Motion but not a movie. What we needed was a camera that had a single lens capable of capturing a point of view. That’s what Le Prince did. Unfortunately, as history would see it, he mysteriously disappeared on a train to Paris in September 1890 right before his first public screening in New York carrying luggage that contained all of his work. Neither Le Prince or the luggage has ever been found. Quite the coincidence.

There are a few theories: Le Prince committing suicide, Le Prince’s own brother killing him, Le Prince fleeing due to his sexuality being outed but none have stuck... except one. Le Prince’s widow, Lizzie, believed Edison, his biggest competitor in the race, had him assassinated. The evidence? The discovery of Edison’s journal containing the following entry, which has been proven authentic. It read:

“Eric called me today from Dijon. It has been done. Prince is no more. This is good news but I flinched when he told me. Murder is not my thing. I'm an inventor and my inventions for moving images can now move forward.”

Take of that what you will.

Today, we are taught that Edison’s kinetoscope launched the novel medium of moving pictures into our familiar. When it was invented in 1891 by Edison and Dickson, the kinetoscope was a peepshow-like device with a "sight opening" on top that one viewer at a time could look into and watch a moving picture. Think about it like looking into a microscope - very different from how we view films now both in method and price, it was 50 cents for access to all films at a given venue.

In 1897, an improvement on Edison's device arose. Invented by the Lumière brothers, the cinematograph contained both a camera, projector, and hand crank. Now, audiences could sit and screen films. I'll circle back to Edison as he connects to our 1903 topic. But first, let's take a stop with the Lumière brothers.

Auguste and Louis Lumière are credited as the first filmmakers. Their documentary-esque films Workers Leaving The Lumière Factory and Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat are milestones in cinema. Known as travelogues or actualités, they showed the casual and working life of people in the mid to late 1890's. These shorts were even screened to audiences who jumped out of their seats at a train onscreen because they thought it would actually hit them. The Lumière Brothers took their screening all over the world, from Paris, to India, and China.

Watching these films, it's hard not to put yourself in the shoes of a passerby, a random person whose name we don't know, who exists in a few frames before disappearing to time. Like a fossil, it's interesting to examine what life was like back then. I love seeing the clothing. Everyone is so formal, at least compared to the laid back air of today. Even so, in the 1890’s people were moving away from the Victorian Era and into the “New Woman” Era. High necklines and longer sleeves were replaced by the open neck and short sleeves as morning turned to dusk. High chiffons under feathered hats were popular as was the shirtwaist style for work. All of these visible in the Lumière films.

Where we jump from reportage to fiction is where we jump from Lumière to Porter. And back to Edison, who had Porter working for him. Projectionist and electrician turned director, Edwin S. Porter was the brains behind many of the mechanics and techniques that have become so highly engrained in the making of films that the idea of them being novel seems almost impossible. In 1899, Porter became head of moving picture production at the Edison Manufacturing Company and throughout his career, which spanned about 15 years, he made more than 70 short films. So lets look at a few of them in detail.

Jack and the Beanstalk (1902)

You'll see that a lot of the narrative ideas for these early films spun directly out of fairytales. For an audience, fairytales were a familiarity. Thus, they were able to stitch together what they already knew about the characters and stories and better understand these new moving pictures. And Porter knew this from his work as a projectionist. He knew what engaged the audience most. And that wasn't just story, it was technique. Porter's films were revolutionary for what would become known as editing, at that time just cutting film. Simplistic and impactful, he knew how to compact time and create magic. Objects and people appear and disappear in a single cut. The camera remains still, a wide shot, and on a tripod but what's in front of it changes slightly, making for magical realism. For example, once Jack makes it back down to earth after descending the beanstalk, he grabs an ax and starts chopping it down. He's got to do this or the giant chasing him will make it down too. So he swings the ax a few times with all his might. From a large beanstalk, ripe with leaves, reaching up to the sky, we immediately cut to a destroyed one. The fact that we end one cut with Jack in the same position as we start the next, keeps from disrupting the audience even though everything else onscreen has changed. We've condensed time, Jack has saved the day, and the Giant has fallen to his death. Porter would expand on this editing style, perfecting it, discovering cross-cutting.

Life of an American Fireman (1903)

Cross-cutting or parallel action is so integral to editing that it happens in just about every film. Simply, two separate events are occurring - say, a woman trying to escape a fire inside of her house and firefighters rushing in a horse carriage to save her. These two events, perceived to be happening at the same time, are stitched together through editing so that the audience experiences both. Cut to the woman in her house as the fire inches closer to her. Cut to the firefighters rushing up the stairs. Will they get there? Will they save her? Cross-cutting serves to create tension and set the rhythm of a scene. Eventually, the two spatial points of view merge and the conflict should be resolved. This originates in Porter's films and Life of An American Fireman is the first one that shows it off.

Let's cut back to the first shot of this film, it's a trick shot. A sleepy fireman dreams of a mother putting her daughter to bed. Abruptly, the fire alarm is set off and he wakes up. Instead of cutting from the fireman dozing off in his chair to a separate shot of the mother, which would create confusion on whether the fireman was dreaming, Porter uses double exposure to frame the dream above the fireman shoulder. Double exposure had been employed by photographers since the 1860's to produce dreamy situations in otherwise ordinary places but in film, it first appears in Georges Méliès Four Heads are Better Than One. When we see the house aflame for the first time in Life of an American Fireman, the same mother and daughter from the dream pair reappear. The fireman's premonition connects back to the main drama of the story.

The Great Train Robbery (1903)

In this film we take the leap from a theatrical approach to cinematography, where the camera simply watches the action at a long-shot or observing eye, to being involved in the action. One way that Porter does this is by integrating the pan.

Panning is a technique that moves a camera side to side in a fixed location. We haven't taken the camera off of a tripod or stepped forward in anyway, we are simply turning left or right on the horizontal axis. If we took a step forward and followed a character or action we'd have a tracking shot. But we aren't there yet so plant your feet in the ground for now. Porter uses pans to reveal. The first pan is executed about six minutes into the film. The robbers jump off the caboose with their stolen goods and make a run for it. But where are they going? Queue the pan and we find out it's down some steep hills and into a forest. The subsequent shot is them in the thicket of a forest. Running passed the camera until all but one have exited camera left. But how will they get out? Queue the second pan to reveal horses - their getaway plan. This pan is masterfully done. I love the way Porter keeps his camera static and just observes the tumbling, running robbers until only one is left onscreen. Then and only then does he pan left to reveal the horses. By leaving only one person onscreen, not only does the audience have less to track but so does the camera. Simplifying the frame down to only the necessities of the action, one robber running away in a forest, amplifies the pan and makes the reveal feel complete - we reunite with the group of robbers and horses.

Depending on which version of the film you watch, you might be surprised by waves of color among a sea of black and white. Tinting whole films blue, amber, or sepia has been around since the origins of moving pictures, but in The Great Train Robbery, Porter selects specific actions or objects to tint. This was all done by hand.

Color is one big manipulator. Think of light blue and you'll likely picture endless summer skies; an air of calm. How about Green? I picture the tangled tree webs of a jungle - adventure, growth, the smell of dew on fresh leaves, nature. Now red. Explosions, fire, burst of emotion. Yellow? A bright, morning sun, a blooming sunflower, happiness, positivity, a new start. Early filmmakers used color to bring attention to specific objects, people, and actions. They used it to draw out an emotion from the viewer. They used it to connect themes of violence, love, and happiness. And they used it to spice up their frame.

Porter hand paints the explosion of a train lockbox bright orange and a deep red. The smokey pops from gunshots are also a fiery red. The dress of a dancing woman is bright yellow. The coat of another girl is a rich purple. The addition of color cultivates realism but also gives the film a flair of the imaginary.

So, we have the creative process of tinting to enhance the visual characteristics of a story and we have panning to push forward the important aspects of a narrative. Let's add a few more ingredients to our recipe.

Because the story cuts back and forth between the robbers, the operator, and the posse of men who will eventually hunt down the robbers, it has parallel action. Three separate storylines, integrated through the edit, that coverage at the end. Now that we have the way in which the story is cut and delivered, how about some specific effects?

In shots where the action occurs inside the prop train, which is not moving but the audience is meant to believe it is, Porter uses double exposure to ground his location in reality. He filmed exterior, moving shots and layered them onto the static train shots. In the '30s this would become known as "rear projection".

Additionally, Porter creatively placed his camera in new ways to produce frames that diverged from the typical wide shot; bringing the viewer closer into the action. For example, at about 2 minutes and 50 seconds in, the camera is propped on top of the engine car roof while a sneaking robber crawls passed and kills a fireman.

At last we arrive at the final shot. Diverging from the narrative, Porter set this up to look like a wanted poster. It is filmed in a medium close-up, which serves to focus all attention on the subject by filming them waist-up, having them fill up most of the frame, and blocking out the surrounding environment. The robber points his revolver right at the camera and shoots six times. If you've ever seen Goodfellas, Martin Scorsese recreates this at the end with Joe Pesci. Seemingly, the purpose was to shoot the audience. To tell them even though all of these robbers were killed in the end, their spirit doesn't die. It says "I'm warning you- it's still dangerous out there." Funny enough, this wasn't even the original intention. The shot was promotional and where it ended up in the film was entirely up to the projectionist. It could've just as well been placed at the beginning if they wanted. Even so, the break in the fourth wall and punch of dramatics that ended the film still prevail through cinema history today. Completing the recipe for one the first Westerns, ripe with shootouts, chase sequences, bandits, and suspense.

The Kleptomaniac (1905)

When moving pictures are void of sound and spoken dialogue it's a bit difficult to understand what characters are doing onscreen. Heightened emotional and physicalized acting made up for this. Through facial expressions and over the top, exaggerated body movements, audiences could connect the dots to figure out what was going on in a scene. But in 1903, Porter directed Uncle Tom's Cabin and introduced intertitles, words that would appear printed onscreen. Early iterations of intertitles read like book chapters. They described the main action that was about to take place in the scene. In Uncle Tom's Cabin some examples include: "The Escape of Eliza", "Rescue of Eva", and "Tom and Eva in the Garden. In The Kleptomaniac, intertitles state location and give context to where we are, which is helpful because without them, I don't think I could follow what was going on - at all.

Location is such a main element in this film that intertitles are practically non negotiable. "Leaving Home", "Arriving at the Store", "Home of Thief", and "Court Room Scene", prepare us with the information that is necessary to fully understand the purpose of each scene. The department store shot isn't clear-cut. It could've been a mail room or an office. If we miss that it's a department store that our main character is visiting (and stealing from), we miss the connection to the thief stealing food later on in the film and thus miss the whole theme of class disparities. The intertitles supplement for lack of onscreen information and sound. They would be used regularly in the silent era, branching into dialogue intertitles and expositionary intertitles before dying out with the advent of sound.

[e11evenkeys]

Pitch: The Adventures of Danger Rabbit- Chapter 2 Friendly Friendly (part 1)

Long story short, my dad wasn't arrested. Ms. Harper made her displeasure quite clear as far as my new form was concerned, but I wasn't taken away. Because of my mistake, dad had a reputation for being a careless father, and I was seen as a delinquent. Teachers started watching our family like we were career criminals, but dad raised me to be a good kid.

Regardless of the truth, I had a reputation that stuck with me as I grew up. Even into my junior year of high school, kids thought I was bad news. It didn't help that I had the worst luck imaginable, unlike Mr. Nickels, who I still had yet to find. Trouble seemed to seek me out. Just the simple act of walking home from school was dangerous enough to warrant fear of chaos. Freak accidents were a norm, and they only fueled the fire when it came to the negative light everyone shined on me. Of course, my dad always had the worst end of the fiascos because he had to deal with the aftermath.

If I had any luck at all, it was spent when I had the fortune of finding my two best friends.

B James was a girl who moved to town after my accident. Her parents were professional magicians, so naturally, I tried to get in good with them. I had hopes of them helping me. It turns out I didn't have to work too hard. BJ was fascinated with my form and impressed with my ability to create my own magic. I told her I didn't mean to transform myself, but I don't think she cared. She wanted to make new spells like her parents, and I suppose she thought I could help her. She overlooked how the rest of the school avoided me, but that might have been easy, considering no one flocked to her lunch table any more than my own. Remember when I said creating new magic was dangerous, well, BJ didn't care. We hadn't even graduated high school yet, but she'd created more spells than a person could count. It's important to keep in mind most of those spells had adverse effects or didn't do what they were meant to, but they did something.

My friend Wesson, a satyr I met in my freshman year of high school, didn't use magic at all. To be fair Fae, because of their natural abilities, didn't need magic as much as humans did. Even I had natural powers after my transformation like super hearing and invisibility. Which I'm sure is how Mr. Nickels managed to avoid capture for so long if he also possessed the same abilities. Wes being a satyr, was super fast and super strong, among other things, whether he appeared to be or not. We became friends after I tried to join the school's Creature club. There weren't many Fae that went to our school, so the club was meant to be a way of letting them all meet one another. Unfortunately, when I tried to join the club, someone pointed out I was born human, and that I was only what I was because I cursed myself. I couldn't join the club. Technically they weren't allowed to exclude anyone, but I thought it best to pick my battles wisely and let it go. Wes, being the best guy in the world, found me the next day and told me he thought the other kids were dicks for not letting me join the club. From that day on, I couldn't remember a time I couldn't fall back on the friendship Wes and I had.

It was two weeks till summer break. All of the ends of the year testing was out of the way, so everyone was waiting for the school year to come to an end. That Friday afternoon, I decided to walk BJ home. Despite my being close to Wes and BJ both, they never seemed to like one another. Every day I'd have to make a conscious decision whether to hang out with BJ, who loved playing magician and getting into trouble, or Wes, who was basically the brother I never had. BJ won that day because Wes had a meeting with the principal.

BJ should have taken the bus home, but I guess that would have been less time she got to work out new magic with me. We took a lot of back roads that day that eventually spit us out into the Dead Woods. It was the town's biggest forest, and it sat in the middle of everything. We learned in history class that old settlers named it the Dead Woods because back in the early days, when people were still coming up with most of the modern magic, they had to go far away from homes and buildings so bad magic wouldn't destroy anything. A lot of people died out there. Despite the bad history, it was a beautiful place as long as you knew where you were going.

"So there's this summer internship I read about," BJ said as we walked under branches while leaves crumbled under our footsteps.

"What kind of internship?" I asked.

We stopped walking so she could take her spell book out of her bag. The pages of her hand made spiral held weight and took time to flip through.

"For magicians. I thought you might want to go for it," she added.

"You want me to be a magician?"

"You created a working transmutation spell when you were 11."

I laughed at her, calling it a "working spell."

"Yea, and I've been trying to undo it ever since," I said with my amused tone still vocal.

"I could help you."

"I don't want to be a magician," I said in my most definitive voice possible.

"But I do."

I took a few steps away. I didn't want to stand too close while her book was out. Some of the stuff in that thing didn't need words to be activated. As she flipped through the pages, there was a danger similar to throwing a grenade into a kid's birthday party. Pages glowed and faded as her hands turned them over. I'm not sure how she managed to carry something around like that without constantly hurting herself.

"Then you should do it," I said as I crossed my arms and leaned against a tree.

She came near, and I knew to expect puppy dog eyes to fluff some kind of catch. That's what people do when they want something

"I need you."

I asked, "why," but she turned away.

"I need your spell," I thought she said, but I couldn't make out her words for sure, and with my big ears, that meant she was really quiet.

"What?" I asked.

"I need your spell."

I stood up straight.

"The spell that gave me fur and left with only eight fingers," I said before I continued with, " the spell that made my feet too big to wear shoes and ears big enough to hear my dad when he gets off at night."

"I have to submit a working spell to be considered."

"Then use one of yours," I said.

"None of mine work."

"What about the one you use to change your hair color?"

"It blinds anyone who sees me cast it."

"Then just use my spell, you don't need me for that, I wrote the words in some book, and I'll give it to you."

I wanted to get off the subject. Anyone who knew me knew how long I tried to find a cure for my curse. After years of turning over stones to no avail, of course, I gave up hope. That's not to say I didn't wish and dream for a way to change back, but being a bit of a pessimist meant I couldn't help but see the uneasy reality of how unlikely a cure was.

"It wouldn't be right to take credit for your work."

"But, it's alright to strong-arm your friend into an internship that'll take up our entire summer?" I didn't mean to sound nearly as argumentative or sarcastic as I must have at that moment, but it came out that way.

"There's a chance we won't even get it," she said, basically pleading with me at that point.

"If I say yes, will you leave me out of whatever experiments you're about to do?"

"But I had something special planned for today."

"That's my price."

"Deal, but you have to stick around to watch."

"In case something goes wrong?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to," I replied.

We exchanged a mutual grin before she adjusted her glasses and finally flipped around in her book to find the newly crafted spells. We spent most of the afternoon in the woods. BJ wrote a spell for growing plants faster, but it made anything made of wood burst into flames, including all the papers in my backpack. She tried to put out the fires with another spell meant to create rain clouds, but it summoned a swarm of butterflies that flew into the flames. Needless to say, they all died. They died quickly, but at least the fires went out.

By that time, it was getting dark.

"We should get moving," I said as I picked our bags off the ground burnt as they might have been.

"We will never speak of what happened here to anyone, right?"

"Like always," I said with a chuckle before handing BJ her ruined bag.

We started on our way out of the woods.

"Do your parents know you're applying for this internship?" I asked.

"Not yet."

"Don't you think they should know?"

"I'll tell them once I, " she started to say before I cut her off with, "did you hear that?"

"Hear what," she asked.

There was a sound coming from the bushes ahead of us. It was too big to be a cat, dog, or rabbit.

"Stand back," I said as I put my arm in front of BJ.

"Is someone there," I called out into the distance, but no reply was returned.

Only the rustling of the bushes broke the silence as something or someone came near. It was close. There was a momentary pause of nothing but the bugs around us falling silent, and then whatever it was lunged out at me.

It was Wes. He made me fall backward and rip the arm of my button-down shirt.

"Shit," I yelled out.

He tried to catch my arm on my way down, but he was too slow.

"Sorry, dude," Wes said with a laugh as he helped me to my feet.

"What are you doing out here?" BJ asked in a tone more annoyed than me, but I was the one with the ripped shirt.

"I need Pitch."

"Well, he's walking me home from school."

"Schools been out for 3 hours now, and you know how to get home."

"You want me to walk by myself," BJ asked.

"No one ever offers to walk me home, and we're the same age," Wes said sarcastically.

I cut in, "Wes, what did you need my help with?"

"I need your ears," he said.

"Let me get BJ home, and then I'll swing by your place."

Neither of them was even looking at me anymore; they were staring one another down.

"Alright, just make sure 'Bug Burner' isn't with you."

"You saw that!" BJ exclaimed.

"I'll be there, alone," I said as I held BJ back from Wes.

A few uneasy, and unwelcoming glances were exchanged before we took to our separate ways.

"I don't know why you hang out with him," BJ argued.

"Wes is cool," I said.

"Wes is just short of being a toddler. He doesn't use magic."

"I don't use magic."

"That's different; you can't afford it."

"That hurt," I said.

"You know what I mean."

[ladyhistorypod]

Episode 4: Let’s Ms. Behave

Sources:

Charlotte Corday

The British Museum

Brooklyn Museum

Find A Grave

History Channel

UCL Art Museum

Encyclopedia Womannica (Podcast)

The Blonding of Charlotte Corday

Giulia Tofana

Wut. (Podcast)

History Collection

Historical Post

Medium

Mike Dash

Virginia Hill

The Mob Museum

Encyclopedia of Chicago

Alabama

Further reading/watching: The Damned Don’t Cry (1950 film), Bugsy's Baby: The Secret Life of Mob Queen Virginia Hill (eye roll from Alana), Virginia Hill (1974 film)

Click below for a full transcript of the episode!

Lexi: A brief warning about the following episode of Lady History: this episode contains sensitive topics, such as suicide and murder. If you or someone you know needs help, please contact the National Suicide Prevention Hotline. To learn more, visit suicidepreventionhotline.org 

Alana: I think my therapist is listening to our podcast.

Haley: Wait what really?

Alana: Yeah. Because I was looking at like our dem– like our listenership and it said a bunch of people in Arlington and I don't know that many people in Arlington. I know like my mom's... my parents’ like family friend from… my dad like went to high school with them and then they introduced my parents and we call her my Arlington mom and so I was like oh maybe it's her but that's too many people to just be her and I think my therapist lives in Arlington and I told her about this so shout out Dr. Sterman.

Haley: I would love–

Alana: If you’re listening.

Haley: –Your next session she's like ‘by the way I don't listen to your podcast’ even though... and just like out herself from… not super listening but also listening we just had… 

Alana: I might bring it up. I'm seeing her on Tuesday, virtually obviously, but I’m seeing  her on Tuesday.

Haley: ‘Just wondering, do you listen to my podcast?’

Alana: Well I'm going to talk about how like ‘oh I started my podcast and it's doing this this and this for my mental health’ and then be like… just see if she says she’s listening.

Haley: I feel like she wouldn’t though. I feel like she wouldn’t just to…

Alana: I don’t know if she would.

Lexi: Does that cross the like professional boundary?

Haley: Yeah…

Alana: Is that a HIPAA violation?

Lexi: Is it though? It’s only a podcast

Haley: Well none of us are in the medical field.

Lexi: No. We are not.

Alana: Let us know.

Haley: So we can’t have a definitive answer. But I can see someone–

Lexi: Hey if you're in the medical field or are a certified therapist please email us at ladyhistorypod@gmail.com and let us know if listening to your patient’s podcast violates HIPAA.

(Alana laughing)

Lexi: Thank you. You can also email other stuff there. Don't, don't– you don't have to be a doctor to email us.

Alana: No. I also I have a– because you can do asks on Tumblr, and I have our ask page for the Tumblr– Lady History pod dot tumblr dot com– I have… you can suggest a lady.

Lexi: Please, suggest ladies.

Haley: I would love that.

Lexi: Please suggest ladies to us at Lady History pod dot tumblr dot com.

Alana: You can also DM us, and as previously mentioned if you DM the Instagram that's Lexi and if you DM the Twitter that's me and they're both at LadyHistoryPod. We're gonna plug that again at the end so it's just a constant cycle.

Haley: No one can slide into my DMs. I'll just use one of… if you want to slide into my DMs, use like, the Twitter and just be like this is for Sprinklebear McPuss-n-Boots and they’ll know it’s for me.

Lexi: Okay if you DM or email any of the accounts, if you need the message to go to Haley, please use that name only. Any messages directed to Haley will not be given to her.

Alana: We’ll be like ‘who’s Haley?’

Lexi: So go back–

Haley: I don’t even know what I said. I forgot.

Lexi: No, so go back–

Alana: Sprinklebear McPuss-n-Boots and I will never forget it.

Lexi: Just go back, listen to that however many times you need to to get it in your brain, and then use that when you address Haley in any of your communication to our general inbox.

Alana: Hang on, my light went away because I have to go change Haley’s contact info in my phone.

(Lexi and Alana laughing)

Haley: I really hate if like I am interviewed for a job and they’re like… ‘so…  Twinklebear McPuss-n-Boots… 

(Lexi laughing)

Alana: It was Sprinklebear

Lexi: You didn’t even get it right. She can’t even–

Alana: Sprinkle… Sprinklebear… 

(Lexi laughing)

Haley: I used to have a crush on Puss-n-Boots when Shrek first came out.

[INTRO MUSIC]

Alana: Hello and welcome to Lady History, the good, the bad, and the ugly ladies you missed in history class. I’m the next best thing to being in the same room as Lexi. Lexi, what's the name of your favorite plant? 

Lexi: My favorite plant is probably a pothos. Just really cute, a cute plant, a good plant, grows well, grows well in my climate, has not failed me, has not died, so that is why I love the pothos.

Alana: And also in the virtual studio is Haley. Haley, how’s the weather?

Haley: It's quite gloomy. I am in San Francisco so we're still dealing with the wildfires. But I think it's just Karl the fog today.

Alana: Karl the fog?

Haley: Yeah the San Francisco like fog that just like looms over this bay area is called Karl. He even has a Twitter, a whole kids’ picture book. Karl the fog.

Alana: That's giving me An Absolutely Remarkable Thing by Hank Green vibes.

Haley: And also, oh, the SF MOMA… the new building of it is Karl the fog. It doesn't– it looks kind of like a… like an old time steam iron, like on an ironing board. But it's like meant to be Karl the fog. Or like blend in. Karl just mushes his way through San Francisco.

Alana: Oh my god that's incredible.

Haley: Yes.

Alana: And I'm Alana and I theme my canvas tote bags based on event.

Lexi Nice. Solid.

Alana: Thank you.

Haley: So can I tickle your tastebuds with a fun fact?

Lexi: Oh… oh, tickle away.

Alana (whispering): Tickle your tastebuds… 

Speaker 1: This is either going to be like the best thing I've ever created because like– let me just give you a side note: I thought of this joke while taking shower and was cracking up for ten minutes.

(Alana laughing)

Haley: It's either– it's probably gonna flop. But, with this fun fact– it’s kind of setting the mood for our crime theme and it's about the guillotine and the family of the guillotine, Dr. Joseph– I think his name’s like Ignace? It looks like Ignatio, but it’s like Ignace Guillotin– was so horrified that like their family member invented such like a horrible thing, and if you don't know what the guillotine is, it is basically a big sharp knife that comes down from a pulley, will slice your head off, used in many executions– that they appeal to the French government to change the name and the French government just took it to a step higher and was like no we won't change the name but we will make it one of like the official ways of executing people. more s– to the point that the last execution was like in the 1970s. And this is like across Europe and at least for France it was in 1977. So this is where it gets to my cringy joke because I've used this before. If you want a sick burn while your parents are talking about their childhood and they grew up in like the 60s, 70s, you can just go ‘Pft, the land and time of the guillotine. Such heathens.’ And I like this more than the… the burn that goes like ‘when the dinosaurs roamed’ because dinos just like didn't live when humans lived and it always made me so mad where it’s like I learned that the dinosaurs were born millions of years ago but we have this like iconic just… execution machine that was used for so so long and no one realizes that this was just used until the 70s as a humane way of execution, which like I won't even get into that whole argument. There's so much of a rabbit hole of whether the like guillotine was humane or not. But it's just– it's almost funnier because like it did happen this was an ironic like ‘oh you’re so old you’re like a dinosaur’ this is like ‘you were born when the guillotine was used!’

Alana: Because that's like a burn but it's also true.

Lexi: Yeah. That's the worst kind of burn, I– I mean the best kind of burn because it hurts the worst.

Haley: I once said it to my dad because he was like talking about something when he was like younger and I was like the guillotine just looked at me and was like ‘excuse me?’ I was like ‘you lived during the time of the guillotine, heathen.’ And he was like ‘well…”

Alana: It's true!

Haley: Because he was like ‘no that's like the Middle Ages’ and I was like ‘let me school you on some facts. And that actually is a great segue into my first gal.

Alana: Alright, let's go Haley.

Haley: Uh, so my gal, like Artemisia, we have another one with her own movie. It's an unfortunate movie because I couldn't find it anywhere, but who am I talking about… Charlotte Corday. And other names include… side note, I don’t speak French, I speak Spanish. Please don’t come after me, with my horrible horrible French pronunciations, I had my boyfriend, who speaks some French, pronounce them to me… probably didn't remember anything that he said to me. Her other names are Corday d’Armont, Marie-Anne Charlotte, and now her like more modern name is Charlotte Corday the Assassin. So I love Charlotte as a topic, because other podcasts, like crime, history, women's studies, have covered her to an extent. Like I– you'll see in the show notes I like I've even used her– thanks, Encyclopedia Womannica. But on the other hand, not many people know about her. And they don't even know like her influence with the French Revolution because I've been in like many discussions about like history of crime or what like– the world history that we had to take, and I asked like about her and my even like my history teachers like ‘I don't know who that is’ and everyone just gave me that blank face and it's like wait a minute, this is weird, why isn't this covered. So of course, I'm going to cover it. And let's crack this case wide open before we do a deep dive and go over just like some historical background and some of the people be talking about because I don't want you guys to be lost in this whole mumbo jumbo. So Charlotte was a Girondin sympathizer– again, my French is not good– she came from a family of impoverished aristocrats from a little town outside of Paris, France. And as a noble family she was given the opportunity to go to a formal education, but really this formal education came because her mother and one of her sisters died. And her father was just so grief-stricken and also just couldn't handle the now need to raise two daughters, so he sent them to a Roman Catholic convent so they could get a formal education. During this formal education of hers, she learned about French politics, history of France, and was able to mold her own theories and just ideas about the world around her. Thus, she became a French moderate Republican party member during 1791 and 1793 and this is during the French Revolution.

Alana: I'm guessing that moderate Republican back then doesn't mean the same thing that moderate Republican means now.

Haley: No, not at all. I'll explain more. So that's– this is exactly why I wanted to do our whole kind of let's see the players let's name some names and let's go over some history because just looking at her based on just the woman it's very hard to understand why she's one, seen as a hero; two, seen as a murderous assassin which both are correct in a way.

Lexi: I mean, goals. No I’m just kidding. I’m not condoning murder.

Haley: No so that's basically where she's at in the scope of where she grew up and what role she’ll play in the French Revolution, or what side she was on. And she's also mainly known for murdering Jordian Jean-Paul Marat, and he was on the other side he was Jordian so she was very opposed to his ideals. So again like Alana said is this kind of like what our U. S. politics is like? No, this isn't the Republican Party. However we have two extreme sides and people on one extreme, people on another extreme. That is very much similar. And he was an outspoken leader of the French Revolution to the point where he was the founder of a popular journal, deputy of Paris to the convention, opposed legislation that would hurt the other side, empower him and to Charlotte and other Girondan followers. So now that we cover the big picture ideas and we know the players and we know how extreme both these sides are, let's do our deep dive. She was committed to fighting the Girondist side of the revolution, posing the radical Jacobin faction. So this was right before the Reign of Terror, and why I mention this is because all her actions were to stop a civil war; and the Reign of Terror was a part of the French Revolution that kind of like started the first French Republic and culminated in a series of massacres and like many many public executions. So this is what she tried to stop from happening in French society. However, her whole story and what role she played in the revolution actually caused the Reign of Terror. So that's why for me as– in high school was like why aren't we talking about her and now we're gonna talk about her now. So, we come to the point where our victim Marat was continuing his train of like bloodshed, and was responsible for utter catastrophe, and putting a lot of lives in danger of like the French– like the French people were just terrified of him, to an extent. And that’s why Charlotte just hated him. He was seen as definitely one of the leaders of this one extreme side that had to be taken out. So that's exactly what she kind of planned to do. And she was not in Paris, she was still in another city outside of Paris, France. So, Charlotte stabbed him while he was taking a bath; and that's really the punch line of like her whole story. If you do like a quick Google search you'll get a lot of stuff for her and even in some textbooks that I tried to look at it was just like Charlotte Corday assassin… stabbed Marat in the heart. Really, she stabbed him in a planned assassin while he was taking a bath. I'm gonna just go through the accounts of this whole story because they're not really pieced together in one area and I'm going to piece them together now so you can understand why he was like in a bathtub, why she stabbed him, and so on. Because this just sounds so strange and it's really strange to see this as your history. So the planned assassin started because she wanted, like I said, to stop from a civil war happening in France, and she truly believed that to do this you have to kill one of the leaders; and also to an extent make the other side seem strong in that way. Like if you kill one of the leaders, you prove that the other side is just as strong or stronger. So she originally planned to kill him at a Bastille Day parade to make a huge show of it and this was on July 14th 1793. Unfortunately, or fortunately for her plans in a sense the event was just like it either didn't happen or it became apparent that Marat was not going to be at that public event. So she quickly had to say okay what else can I do, how can… what will be the next step to kill him. On July 13th, so the day before this event was supposed to happen, she was able to get a meet and greet with him or just gain access to him by saying and promising to betray her political side and give some insider secrets– like name names, basically become a traitor. And Marat was like cool you're definitely high up in the Girondin side of it, let you like, come into our area, we’ll hold– like we’ll basically keep you hostage, in a sense, like that's the feel I got… like Marat was also like come to our side because if anything happens you'll be on our turf; and she did. She was like cool, great. You don't know I'm gonna kill you, you think I'm gonna come and like give you all my secrets and then you'll protect me in a way. So Marat was having this meeting in the bathtub, but this was a very normal occurrence for him because he had a terrible skin disease or infection that he would just be in the bath all the time, like the water soothed him. So he was just very vulnerable, but that was his normal state– like nothing was wrong with him taking a meeting in the tub… so like she could be alone with him. It would be more weird if they were just walking around in the streets together. And instead of having this whole conversation that Charlotte said she would, she took this knife out of her bodice that she was just like hiding there and stabbed him in the chest.

Haley: He died almost immediately; and she actually waited for the police to come. She did not run away– she waited and confessed, essentially. She was proud of what she did, she wanted this assassination like the public assassin– assassination to still have some sort of effect on the public to show that her side did it to the other side, she is responsible for ma–Marat, and she did it as this political leader, in a sense. So at the trial, she allegedly proclaimed ‘I killed one man to save a hundred thousand’ and she kept reiterating that this was in fact a planned assassination, this wasn't out of passion. She took some thought, even wrote down like accounts and like had this whole… I saw like some people called it a journal or like statement– different written statements basically on her thoughts of an upcoming civil war and what she thought she was doing to help prevent that. She was also able, before the trial she was able to write down like write a letter and write her thoughts, feelings, concerns to her father. So her father was still alive and was able to get this kinda like last testimony of hers. And of course during this trial because she did essentially plead guilty… she was ordered to be executed via guillotine just four days after the murder; so July 17th 1793. And another quote from a lawyer from all this whole trial came from I think this was a man named Vergniaud, but I couldn't find this quote as in from like a reputable source as yes this was him, so could have been just another lawyer and not this guy. However, someone as a witness to this whole trial on this whole ordeal said ‘She is leading us to our death, but she is showing us how to die’ and it was because he, as a lawyer, saw this whole thing, saw her whole plan, and knew okay this is going to become a massive shit show. Like this won't end well. She is not preventing a civil war; she actually just started a whole other battle. However, she is showing us how to die with dignity, and showing how to like own up to the actions and just just die. Essentially die because a lot of people through the Reign of Terror did die. So you thought I'd be done– and I know this is gonna be my longest but this is such a great great story– because now we get into her overall death legacy, and we do know a lot of things, unlike Amelia Earhart where we just don't know what happened to her after death. A lot of this we still have artifacts and evidence of. She overall became this French savior, like the savior of French society in her circle. Months after her death, there are just so many portraits of her in different scenarios; short hair, long hair– like I needed to go back and make sure these were the same Charlotte Corday and if there could have been multiple Charlotte's just to make sure that these images looked so vastly different. And it was because people wanted to show that she was just this holy woman and ladies now weren't the ones who are supposed to be stuck in the kitchen with raising the kids. They had the power to do something in life and in society, but they also had a spin on it, so like– like I said, she was seen as a savior, this holy woman, goddess… like they even used her Christian name so Marie-Anne Charlotte, which she– to my knowledge, and to my research didn't necessarily go by that name. But there are definitely images of that name and her with very fair skin, white, brunette hair, looking very womanly and accentuating her womanly features. So that really pissed off the other side. Like all Marat’s supporters, they were absolutely flabbergasted that she was getting such a reputation. They thought this can't be happening; she just murdered one of our political leaders, and she was executed for it, why is everyone trying to kind of put this holy cap on her. And yes, that worked to an extent, like their outcry, because like yes she did murder someone. But it didn't help enough, and there were women in French society who did try to distance themselves from her and just for ideas of what women should be like. But, Charlotte did such a good job at like the legend of her as a woman, even before she died, that it didn't matter. Like I read an article about whether she had blonde hair or chestnut brown hair from a 2004 academic article; like this is still being discussed. And she had a part of her reputation– like she knew that whether it started a civil war or not she needed to form her own reputation. And there's even accounts that she witnessed the paintings and drawings of her that would be published and printed post-execution, and she gave comments. She was like no no no no, make me look more like a schoolgirl; or like make me more with curly hair. I don't really know the specifics but it was documented that she would give kind of suggestions on how she would look like. So while she did it, she tried so hard to like make herself look like this holy woman, and yes it did work. Marat, when he died, one of his very close friends, Jacques-Louis David painted the classic portrait or classic image, not portrait The Death of Marat, which is capturing the scene of his death and that is still considered like a classic image and the classic picture from– especially from the French Revolution. So I don't– I don't want to go as far as saying either Charlotte's portrayed as this holy one or this heinous, murderous, like scoundrel because both of them have lasted to this point in history that no one can make up their mind whether this was like a good thing that happened or a bad thing that happened. And I don’t even– I don’t even want to put out like in the universe whether we should have the discussion; if we should say like yes or no. I just wanna give you the facts and let you kind of like decide but that is Charlotte Corday.

Lexi: She is very interesting.

Alana: Yeah that's real cool. That's fun. That was a good transition for… from the guillotine to…

Lexi: Yes, good choice.

Alana: Charlotte Corday. I’m glad we let you go first.

Lexi: Alana hit us. Hit us with it. Don't hit us please don't hit me.

Alana: I won’t hit you. Okay so I will be talking about Giulia Tofana. Um.. Ooooh Haley's face, I'm so excited. I feel like– I hope I do this justice. Oh no. She is Giulia but it’s spelled G-I-U because she's Italian. Okay. So. I like to give credit as we've seen in the past like where I have first found out about my stories. And so I first found out about Ms. Tofana– I should I should call her Giulia not Ms. Tofana because there’s another Tofana, her mother’s name is also Tofana. I heard about this for the first time on Wut. W-U-T which is another great edutainment podcast by women. I'm gonna promo them without needing a sponsorship or a collab because women supporting women. So if you like us, go check them out. That was fun. They're not specifically women's history they're just kind of fun facts in general so not as niche as us but still pretty cool. And then I heard about that podcast from my friend Jesse on Twitter… I think we're friends I don't know I think we're friends… so shout out to Jesse. So Giulia Tofana, G-I-U because she's Italian, lived in the seventeenth century. Exact dates are kind of weird because she was a woman and not highborn. Best guess she was born in Palermo in Sicily. Her mother was executed for poisoning her father, possibly because he was abusive. This is a thing– like a running theme that we’ll see it later. Also later, Giulia's husband died mysteriously, probably also poisoned, probably also abusive. So she moved to Rome at some point in the 1630s-ish, probably, as a widow with her daughter to sell cosmetics and be apothecaries and poison people. Dun dun dun… 

Alana: So women in the seventeenth century have so many options. They can be sex workers, they can be essentially auctioned off to almost always abuse of older men and then later if their husbands died become respected widows. Those are your options. So many! So many options! What– how are you going to pick, so many things.

Lexi: The amount of choices is staggering.

Alana: Paralyzed by choice, really. My sources call these women ‘aspiring windows’ as if they are gold diggers and not battered women with no escape. I love– I love that like my running theme is criticizing my sources. That's my thing. Giulia crafted essentially her own poison. Created her own poison, or what by all accounts… she was the one who came up with this. Between like her and her mother and her daughter they came up with this poison called aqua tofana, named after her. It's a combination of arsenic and belladonna and lead, which are things that are already in cosmetics at the time but not quite lethal, still have problems, but not lethal unless they're ingested. And so having these things on a vanity looks totally normal. And so Giulia, as someone who experienced abuse, who had watched her mother get executed for defending herself, essentially… I am not condoning murder, and I know it's never good to say something at the beginning of a sentence like ‘I'm not condoning murder’ and then doing ‘but’... I feel like… there are no options.

Lexi: Self defense.

Alana: Self defense.

Lexi: And it seems very clear– again, we don't know the whole situation but it seems very clear that she was in a bad situation.

Alana: A bad situation. Yeah

Lexi: We are not the judge, jury, or the executioner so we can't say.

Alana: So she, having probably been abused and having watched her mother probably been abused and watched her mother get executed for essentially defending herself… she's going to help these other women get out of their marriages in such a way that it can't be traced. Because this poisoning with this mixture of belladonna and arsenic and lead, it takes really long for someone to die. Really long is like two to three days, but it also looks like natural causes or another illness which always happened in the 1600s. People got sick and died and that was just normal. And it gave these men time to get their affairs in order and to confess their sins and in a very Catholic area at a very Catholic time you like automatically got into heaven as long as you confessed your sins. So since these people had time to confess their sins, our murderess wouldn't have to feel so guilty that she was condemning her husband to hell even though he was probably hurting her. It only takes four to six drops to kill someone, depending on their size and all of that other stuff. And another side fact, side fun fact: Mozart, who nobody knows how Mozart died, Mozart wholeheartedly believed that he was poisoned with aqua tofana, but nobody knows. I feel so good that Haley is just nodding fervently. I feel like I'm doing a good job. Thank you for that.

Haley: I've awkwardly read so much on arsenic poisoning. Just so much so, but yes you are correct. There are probably just so many people who died of arsenic poison in the 1600s because autopsies weren’t like what we have today where you can do a toxicology, so so many people would seem like they were getting ill, because a lot of the times it just looks like a common cold or flu-like symptoms, they just weren't feeling good. But then they would die so now people do toxicology because it's a thirty year old man with no pre-existing conditions. But when you're talking about it in the 1600s it's like ‘oh they got sick we don't have modern medicine to help out.’

Alana: Nobody knows what's happening, essentially. It's like ‘oh no another person got sick.’ So Giulia Tofana sold this with her daughter and some employees at this family business, essentially, which is a weird way to think about it– that the family business is murder. They operated like this for about fifty years, for decades. And… at least the estimated number is something like six hundred plus people died because she sold their wives poison. But she got caught, and legend has it– and there are so many foggy details but this seems way too specific so I think like somebody exaggerated but, one of her clients who had bought the aqua tofana to poison her husband had poisoned a bowl of soup but decided, ‘no, I can’t. I can’t kill someone’ and dramatically knocked it out of his hand. And that's where I am thinking this… somebody exaggerated. Somebody made this up because that's way too specific. But she stopped her husband from eating the soup and confessed her crimes and turned in Giulia Tofana and her daughter and their three employees at the business. And all of them were executed. Under torture, of course, it's the seventeenth century, she turned on a bunch of her clients as well. So a bunch of her clients were also executed. Some of them were not executed, because they claimed that they didn't know that it was poison and it was just ‘oh no, I spilled some of my lotion in my husband’s soup… Oops. Oopsie poopsies I’m only like fourteen I don't know any better.’ I made myself laugh with that one I’m sorry. But those people were spared. So there is something to… was Giulia a hero, was she a murderess, could both of those things be true…

Lexi: Was she an anti-hero?

Alana: She's kind of an anti-hero. I think that's what we’re going for.

Haley: I like that, I like anti-hero.

Alana: I think– I also think like–

Lexi: Like a Robin Hood, but murder.

Alana: Batman, but murder. Does Batman kill people?

Lexi: Robin Hood stole things, he didn't kill anyone. This is like the Robin Hood of murdering people.

Alana: Sure.

Lexi: It's like murder the rich, give to the wife?

Alana: Vigilante!

Lexi: I don't know. Vigilante murder, yeah.

Haley: So far we’re on the track of like ‘our criminals are good, question mark?’

(Alana laughing)

Lexi: Mine was definitely a criminal, but we'll get in that.

Alana: Well, I am done. So, Lexi let’s get into that.

Lexi: What a segue! Okay. So my lady, though definitely also had a lot of background trauma as it seems that a lot of these ladies had definitely did crime. So we'll just jump in. Have you guys ever heard of the queen of the mob?

Haley: Yes. I'm so excited that you're doing this one.

Alana: Maybe. You'll have to tell me her name.

Lexi: Okay.

Haley: This is truly like my favorite episodes so far, and I like hate when people like get really into criminals like some people, like for Jeffrey Dahmer, people love him, think he's like the most beautiful man, same with Ted Bundy, and that's not where my head is at.

Lexi: That’s creepy.

Haley: I have a true fascination with the history of crime, death, medicine, and how our society perceives it now. When I say I love these people or I love these stories that is not where I'm going.

Lexi: You're not doing the whole crime fandom crush thing.

Haley: No.

Alana: I have seen people get like Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer's signatures tattooed on themselves.

Lexi: That’s creepy.

Haley: Yeah

Lexi: And I don't condone that.

Alana: No we don't like that.

Lexi: But you can be interested in crime especially because as someone who has taken courses in the forensic realm… and who likes bones, and likes that kind of thing, I think you can be interested in the human phenomenon.

Alana: As academics.

Haley: That’s where we’re at for me.

Alana: Not as fanatics.

Lexi: Yes, yes.

Haley: I was listening to like you guys speak and kind of like going back in my head like oh, I seem like such a psycho when I’m like ‘I love Charlotte’ like she is just a fascinating human.

(Alana laughing)

Lexi: Well now we’ve clarified which is good.

Haley: She assassinated someone. And assassinations aren’t swell.

Lexi: But like when you think about like what is interesting on TV, or like what is interesting in our fiction, it's because humans have a general interest. So–

Haley: I wanna write a whole paper on that. Just truly that whole concept.

Lexi: So the queen of the mob, Virginia Hill. You can learn about her at the Mob Museum, people are really really fascinated with her and her story is really interesting. And she was born on August 26, 1916 in a place called Lipscomb, Alabama. I might have said that wrong, you know general– general reminder I say things wrong sometimes. She was born on her father's horse farm. Her father was abusive and he actually beat her and her siblings when they were children and one day she got really fed up with him attacking her and her little siblings so she hit him with a hot skillet in self defense. At the age of fourteen, Virginia married a man named George and three years later the couple moved to Chicago. When they got there she dumped him because you realize the world is a lot bigger than her hometown in Alabama, and so seventeen year old Virginia wanted to start her life anew. At the time, the 1933 Chicago Century of Progress Exposition, which is a World's Fair style event, and it was conceived to bring hope in the wake of the Great Depression that was happening. So Virginia took a job dancing, like as a shimmy dancer, so she had a really unique–

Alana: What– what does shimmy dancer mean? Like a go-go dancer? Like a str– like what?

Lexi: I think you dance shimmy like you shake back and forth and you wear tassels, I believe.

Alana: Dream job.

Lexi: But someone feel free to correct me.

Haley: Yeah, I was thinking one of those 1920s cigarette girls.

Lexi: Yeah that could probably be it because this is a similar era.

Haley: Like they would have like the thing that went over them holding a plate platter like tray that they would just like walk around, dance around, and you can buy stuff from them.

Lexi: Yeah. It could possibly be akin to that. When the fair ended, Virginia became a waitress at one of Al Capone's old haunts the San Carlo Italian Village, which is a restaurant not a town. I had to Google that. Though Capone was at that time in prison, he went to prison in 1931, the community of criminals that he had built was still thriving, and it was– it was in this role as a waitress serving tables of America’s mobsters that Virginia met the man who would change her life. His name was Joe Epstein. He was an accountant and bookkeeper for Capone's crime family, and he took a liking to Virginia’s style, and that doesn't mean like her physical attractiveness… she had a certain style of a way that she talked to the mobsters, and she seemed to really have like a no-nonsense kind of ability to deal with the mobsters, which is really unique in a girl so young. So he felt he could trust her, and he took her on as a money launderer for his racketeering. She laundered the money by placing large bets on horses in Chicago's racetracks. She later moved into betting scams which is basically when she learned how from Joe to collect bets on fixed boxing matches. So the matches will be predetermined, but she would encourage people to bet the losing side. Virginia didn't just launder money. Joe taught her how to dress and act like a rich woman, and used her to cross state lines with stolen furs, jewels, and other items, because of course no one would suspect a nice, rich lady of stealing things and crossing state lines with them. The craziest part is that this all happened before Virginia even turned twenty. So by the age of twenty she was wearing really wealthy clothes, working really wealthy circles, and basically was a part of the mob. Over time, Hill became a trusted cash carrier, money launderer, and information gatherer for Joe and the rest of Capone's crew. She had many rich boyfriends and often used these relationships to benefit her mob family. In one instance she dated an oil tycoon named Major Riddle. No, you cannot make up this name, and yes, I wrote in my script to pause for insane laughter but no one is laughing. I think his name is hilarious.

Haley: I think that’s the best name ever.

Alana: We're on meat. We're on mute. Lexi that's why we're not laughing you didn't... they won’t be able to see the face that I made.

Lexi: Yeah. That's true. I forgot. Well anyway she dated this oil tycoon Mr. Riddle and she convinced him to give her money for investments that were like completely fake and she took that money back to her boy Joe. And Hill used her womanly charm, and by that I mean she seduced men. And through these methods she was able to obtain valuable information for her mob bros. Joe encourage Virginia to move out east to build connections between Chicago and New York crime syndicates. In New York, she laundered money and met many more men including a Mexican night club dancer named excuse my pronunciation, if this is wrong, Miguelito Valdez. At some point Virginia marriedValdez to help him maintain his residence in the United States. And then Virginia, at the same time as this marriage, had an on and off affair with Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel who is a really famous leader in organized crime.The pair is well known to have real chemistry so this wasn't just considered to be a case of her seducing someone. They think that she genuinely liked him And unfortunately at the time Bugsy was married to another woman. In 1940, he was sent to jail on a murder charge. While Bugsy was in jail, Virginia tricked Valdez into signing divorce papers. And it was all very “90 day fiance” of her if you ask me. It is unclear if it was through her marriage or not but at some point Virginia had become very fluent in Spanish. She used her newfound language skills to begin trafficking drugs particularly heroin from Mexico to Chicago. In the 1940s, she attempted to start a career acting in Hollywood while transferring cash from New York to Chicago to LA. Meanwhile, Bugsy was setting up his new crime life in Las Vegas which he believed was the new up and coming resort destination for Americans and in hindsight he was probably right. He wanted Virginia to join him and she did but mainly only to spy on his activities and report back to her other mob leaders like Joe. Unfortunately, Bugsy’s biggest dreams were dashed when his resort project the “Flamingo” failed. He had drowned too much money into elabore improvements to the resort and lost cash when lucky winners struck it big in his casino. In a desperate attempt to save the business, he closed the casino and reopened the Flamingo as a hotel only, which sadly was unsuccessful, because we all know how Vegas went. Hill received orders to leave Las Vegas, so she did. 12 days later, someone shot Bugsy dead in their home. In 1950, Virginia went to a ski resort in Idaho, which I didn’t know you could ski in Idaho, but apparently you can. And she fell in love with an instructor named Hans Hauser. Again, very “90 Day Fiance” of her. Though she was still laundering money and Hauser was not a criminal, he still wanted to marry her. The couple eloped and had a son named Peter. Later that year, Virginia was subpoenaed to appear in a trial on organized crime which would be shown on National TV. She arrived like a star, dressed from head to toe in expensive clothing and jewelry. As a witness, she served her crime family well, evading details and giving vague, basic answers to in depth questions. She used creative lies to explain away all the cash she had laundered, explaining how she had bet money on horses to win her initial cash. She also insisted that most of her wealth came from gifts of suitors, or as we would probably call them today her sugar daddies. Now quick side note- this kinda gives me vibes of the musical Chicago and that song about the main character’s testimony, where she basically used her charm and virtue as a woman to get out of murder. “Well I can’t help it sir, I am just so beautiful men flock to me and give me free things.” On the stand, Virinigia denied that her male friends and lovers were racketeers. When the investigators caught her in her lies, she simply denied knowledge of the nature of their work. “But I never knew anything about their business” she would say. She denied her ability to have any financial knowledge, you know, because she was a lady, and ladies don’t do money things.

Alana: Ladies don’t money.

Lexi: Ladies never money.

Alana: Women be shopping but women don’t be money.

Haley: I love the comparison, like this whole story cuz this is so much like Charlotte. Both of these ladies are trying to be like, “Oh women do this, this is how women look, look how beautiful we are.

Lexi: That’s the vibe. That’s the vibe she was going for. The investigators were still suspicious, it did not work. Because, you know, it was about to be the sixties I mean it was the fifties but was about to be the sixties and so women were going to be liberated. As Virginia left the trial, she cursed out the press and she punched a reporter in the face. Then as she got her car she told reporters she hoped an atomic bomb would be dropped on them, which I think is a timely thing to say. This was right after World War II. That- That’s a big insult. That’s really mean.  Virginia and Hans then realized that they needed to leave America so they moved to Europe. The IRS was still on Virginia's tail and she knew she could not return to the States ever again. She met up with her old boyfriends and colleagues while they were in Europe and it was clear she still received money from her life's consistent characters like Joe. In the nineteen sixties Virginia and her family settled in Austria and her mental health rapidly declined.

Viriginia had suffered with her mental health through most of her adult life, getting hooked on sleeping pills and almost dying from a sleeping pill overdose on at least one occasion. Her life was turbulent, her trauma was intense, and she survived at least three separate suicide attempts. On cold, winter’s day,  March 24th, 1966, in Austria, Virginia took her own life. Pedestrians taking a walk along the water found her body, laying in the snow, along with a note stating the reason for her death, “I am tired of life”. Her husband Hans also took his own life, passing in 1974. Their son Peter, who would go on to become an American soldier and veterean of the Vietnam War, died in a car accident 20 years later. The family is buried together, in Salzburg, Austria. To this day, some crime enthusiasts believe Virginia may have been murdered, force fed pills as a method to hide a murder as suicide of someone with a history of mental illness. Though her apparent struggles with her mental health throughout her life really suggest this theory is unlikely. I think Virginia can teach us a lot, for starters I think the importance of mental health help is something her legacy can teach us. Virginia had a horrible childhood and instead of getting help she needed, she was married off and eventually she was convinced to do crime. She spent a lot of her life struggling, and it's possible some for mental health issues stem from that early trauma. I think Virginia can teach us a lot, for starters I think the importance of mental health help is something her legacy can teach us. Virginia had a horrible childhood, and instead of getting the help she needed, she was married off. She spent a lot of her life struggling, and it is possible some of her mental health issues stemmed from that early trauma. I think Virginia also teaches us that it took more than men to make the Mobs of early and mid century America function.  Virginia was often called the mistress of the mob, but that’s not fair- she wasn’t a mistress of the mob, she was a member of the mob. Women, both those whose stories are recorded and those whose stories were forgotten, played central roles in organized crime. So maybe next time you think about famous figures like Al Capone, think of the women like Virginia Hill who supported the crimes too. And that’s why we cover the good, the bad, and the ugly of women’s history, because there are so many stories that go untold.

Alana: That was so beautiful.

Haley: That was mind blowing.

Lexi: Thank you! I am gonna leave in you guys calling it beautiful too!

Alana: That was incredible.

Lexi: I really thought about that really hard.

Alana: Holy shit!

Haley: I truly love that like all our stories had a moral like that the ending for Alana was also just like you have to face that you're a killer that's a no no and like Lexi here with mental health and then me being like it's not all black and white you’re both bad people!

Alana: Nuance and context is like my mantra these days.

Lexi: That’s academics.

Haley: Yes.

Alana: Nuance and context as academics.

Lexi  As people who studied at a university. Oh my.

Alana: I have a bachelor's degree.

Lexi: Mhmm. Is this podcast just proof to your parents that you got a bachelor's degree?

Alana: No, they paid for it.

Lexi: They know.

Alana: They know.

Lexi: They suffered.

(Alana laughing)

Lexi: You can find this podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LadyHistoryPod. Our show notes and a transcript of this episode will be on lady history pod dot tumblr dot com. If you like the show, leave us a review or tell your friends, and if you don’t like the show, keep it to yourself.

Alana: Our logo is by Alexia Ibarra you can find her on Instagram and Twitter at LexiBDraws. Our theme music is by me, Garageband, and Amelia Earhart. Lexi is doing the editing. You will not see us, and we will not see you, but you will hear us, next time on Lady History.

[OUTRO MUSIC]

Haley: Next week on Lady History: we're going to be in the kitchen cooking up some great stories about famous women chefs and cooks alike. 

Alana: WHERE WE BELONG.

Lexi: In the kitchen.

Alana: /s. 

[myheartbeatskids]

So Declan loved me and we talked about science and lab babies and clones and all that. So He told me he loved me because i was the first person to really really listen and understand as opposed to being the one to teach.

And so he had understood what he was taught then developed and built upon it correctly with help from his own brain and God. And del Muerte whom helped me understand as well cause that shit was mind blowing.

So he asked me to have his soul mate. To give birth to her.

And I was pretty much dragged out and Declan ran the show after that.

I agreed but it was more like a thing where i had to focus and talk instead of fainting.

So Matt actually helped to implant because I have an upturned uterious and so things like that are painful because of the rigidity and non flexible as i need materials used while Jeremiah comforted and helped me relax.

So then essentially i was kidnapped.

Declan is part clone and part Neanderthal.

Annabelle is part clone and part Neanderthal.

So some of us from Michael Jackson's boarding school --- although I wasn't i stayed there alot on my own. So i was part of it, unofficially as i am a civilian doing military shit now. --- have clones in a laboratory. But they are miniature human size as they are kept in barbie size containers.

Since Declan was a clone Jesse gave permission to make, they said i should use a clone.

It took 5 eggs until Declan approved the child that would be created in the embryo. Del Muerte communicated to us what God said.

Most males get their soul mates at age 7. Declan was only 2 years old. So God hadnt had enough experience to program or create his perfect soulmate.

So it just so happened it was 2 years of plus 5 embryos which makes the year 7 while added together.

So when Annabelle was born Declan came to get me and her but my now ex-husband got me all fucked up and i had amnesia and all that and i remember the power struggle type issues while signing the birth certificate which is why i get child support as my ex swore bla bla bla and signed papers to those statements but I was all "Dude while he's signing let's run!" Because he pissed me off during that time and i was all no hes wrong and all... But I guess I was scared of him or his aura csused me confusion or Idk. I remember feeling sick.

So craziness. We are 16 years late. And unfortunately yet fortunately a lot of research was done and i have a lot of government apology money coming my way. Which i don't have yet.... But soon.

This is Cambria AvaLynn named after Alexis Dejoria.

Because Matt's parents were into hiding, they named him after a mat. A common object so in case of ESP feom the people they hid from they would think "welcome mat" like welcome to travel with us son named Matt. Welcome to eat at the dining table, Matt. Well, come, Matt.

So came or come because i would always want to see Matt so I would say "You came!!!" When i saw him and hug him and he would say "welcome"

And Bria after me.

Turning the x into a v (for Victory) and Lynn as in the 80s most of my friends on the military base i lived on has Lynn as their middle names. So to remind me she is a friend.

She's my child that was ectopic due to the sponges Jamie & Doug Otis found and reminded us of. But we went to the hospital because i began to hemmoragge and they were able to save her and her twin.

Then my mom killed her and he died naturally as he was in ICU TO experiment on them being raised/healed as premies temporarily as one within an incubator and the other skin to skin contact. As woman need to be comforted more, we picked Ava to bring home.

They were the first experiment with soul mates being born as twins. Both clones of my and Jeremiah and his being Ava and my being the male Andrew.

Andrew after Jesse... "And he drew" cause he was always drawing beautifully.

And the other clones were of Jesse James and Alexis.

Alexis got kidnapped by her dad and so the story goes... I did too Eventually

Jeremiah's dad helped us as the grandparent in house.

This is Declan.

He told Jeremiah "I'm not the one sitting around waiting with a pouted lip waiting for someone to do it for me. Now i found the woman and go get my kid!!"

Dude WTF I'm not having someones kid... I'm only 21!!

"Now im the man around the house and what I say goes!!! And you are going to have my kid!!"

Dude whatever. So i did dream into the lab with them but... I thought we were just playing and so i agreed and so next thing i knew there was a frozen child ready to be implanted. Thus my ability to be kidnapped so easily...

Cause when a kid is all telling you about clones and labs and shit... And you're hearing voices... that shit is insane. Literally.

So i didn't take it seriously enough.

But Declan is only 19 Now. And my kid is 16.

So it's old enough to have a romantic relationship. To avoid issues i had as a child with social services.

The plan was to have them grow up as friends but also believed it may been too dangerous....

Yet I still don't agree that it was.

However for the last 10 year's I have been working daily for my amnesia to be solved and also saving the world (of NHRA especially) at the same time.

And have earned multiple Nobel Peace Prizes which i have yet to receive.

So working on law enforcement and the military and government, about to break into the public school system and tear that up ;) as a civilian has earned me billions of dollars i have yet to receive....

But i have given away as i can and have bought businesses that I want.

As proof that the government does care about all its people's hopes and dreams they have bought them on my behalf and am gsining bank! And i shop st my own businesses too... Ironically! I been shopping at Loves for nearly a year... went into Speedway a few times now i drive an extra 5 miles just to shop there because i like it more!!

Robert, the shift manager finally told me tonight as I bought all the GIANTS for my Giant 6'7" man. And i turned the ones in Valencia County to Speedway in honor of Aaron and Paul (twins) who wanted to show the dangers of meth and the meth community as they honored me with my idea of how to end Breaking Bad with the movie reel of El Camino (the mother road) of the manner of the psychological reality of life gone wrong.

I freak Robert out... He was worried when he saw me there that I was to audit like a monster, fire everyone and work the cash register and store myself.

So tonight he saw I bought milkshakes (not available at Love's) figured it out and gave me a pack of smokes for free and blurted out why.

So i took all the giants as i always do and fucked them all up and made them better.

So i own them till i make my money back on the businesses and then they get given to who I intended it for... As I do double check they will always be worthy... If not i keep them for me because I was being good snd honest and fair the whole time.

So 360° K i own.

So i only compete with Love's whom I always promised the King's Highway to... You know him... As an old time Western Thug bitch ass womanizer player. Motorcycle Guru. Hot Rod extraordinaire. Texas loving son of a gun. Jesse James Smith! Just kidding... Just regular old ole fogie mad scientist Jesse Gregory Smith. Of West Coast Choppers. Which i own and always have as i put up the money for his business intending to always be in his life and helping him. So my apology... The only one i can ever give as i can't predict the future without help is Love. And he loves everyone and won't let Google tell.

I bought every gas station in the country as we will be switching to electric and hydro electric and non fuel and solar and hybrid autos by 2030. So the previous owners have a nice retirement and no stress. As the storage oil facilities that were shot in Saudia Arabia were actually empty. I own them.

Fossil fuels are actually the blood of dinosaurs and other dead bodies that are converted and broken down and dehydrated by plant life...

I found that out by the eternal bushes burning.. I mean growing... here on the mountain. Tumble weeds otherwise known as thyme. And we found via satellite tons of skeletons by Earth xrays under the bushes and some not as they are closer to the Earth surface. I found a wooly mammoth knuckle bone.

We moved here in 2002 and there was a patch of earth that looked like concrete by the mail boxes and we just drove over them assuming that's what it was.

They were mummified wooly mammoths. Now broken up and scattered all over the desert road.

I would not like my blood which could potentially bring me back to life wasted on a car... For someone to get to a job they hate. So no more. Not from the USA anyways.

One night I was at dinner and i said Obama needs to handle thwt South Dakota pipeline. My dad was all what is he supposed to do? All simple solutions were crap and had an argument. I said "then lie! Tell the American people they are scum! Tell them we opened the pipeline up and the pipes broke and destroyed the precious land that needs to be protected." My dad laughed and i felt kinda stupid for being so angry.

But Uncle Donald heard my point and so thats exactly what he did. Fake news? Its real.

Because he saw the change I made in the NHRA with some lies that laid very close to the truth.

You don't need to believe in reincarnation for it to happen. I didn't until about 6 months ago. But my mom's mom and my great aunt my grandma's sister ... Granny Bessie Heltons 2 daughters did. My grandma explained it to me one night when I was 18 as i had asked my Great Aunt Nita i was closer to but she didn't explain she just said "because i do" And the dictionary explaination i already knew. But my grandma traveled with me like y'all know i do And showed me.

We started in Heaven with only having one human life and having the soul figure of a human that we select. Hers was a teenage body, absolutely beautiful. With her old ass mind and experience. I told her what I wanted was to be a child. A dirty raggedy haired barefoot blonde without a care in the world, feeling smarter than I feel now... Because that is when i was happiest. When i saw i could end pain and suffering with death, when i knew life could escape heart ache, even when evil exist.

And so now on her second cat life with me, as her first caused her kidnapping by the same drug induced psycho piece of shit that arrested and molested Jesse James dog, Coco and her untimely death as I did record in Tumblr. "Sister Kitty" was kidnapped by him, hes in a special jail. He just had his pinkie finger nail and big toe nail removed as he did kidnap Mogar and slice his face and slice Kizzys leg. So in order to understand what he did he agreed to similar punishment as he did to our precious cargo...

Cargo my bitches!

Jesse: No! I only ask!

Me: who do i have to convince?

Jesse: Idk Jeremiah?

Me: Ava who is your dad?

Ava: Idk I guess not Jeremiah?? IDK!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TELL!? you all always told me they are both my dad's. Let me ask God. Oh! Jesse! ..... And Jeremiah

Me: your dad is your dad and dad he will always be no matter shine or high water, love will always be there for you and for me. Alexis, do you know that one?

She nods all teary..

Jesse: well did i get loves?!

Me: uhh yes ass hole! We always love you back. What do you want with a gas station with no gas? That's like having a family with out us, most especially me!

Jesse: well it got gas now!!!

Me: well gas up at your local, bring a truck. I got a lot of stuff.

Declan: you hear her? Most especially me! Me! Well, me too, you better pick me up.

Me: Jesse... You ready for Orlando?? I got a Chase bank account with the Princess Castle on the debit card... Just needs a little cash in the account.

Jesse: You Mean You Will Pay!!!

Me: i see that was not a question so that does not deserve a response. But yes. I am suppose to have a wire transfer per last night's discussions that will pay for it.

Jesse: WHOA SHIT!

Me: Jeremiah you down?

Jeremiah: to pay Miss Giant Owner?

Me: uhh I'm Miss Speedyway now. No.. Carry me through times square after some Disney World Fun!

Jeremiah: FUCK YES!! uhh yes thank you for inviting me. I will go

Matt Hagan: look look at this. Im the best friend i even got her kid named after me

Me: Matt Hagan... Looks like you're invited, The Best Friend. In or out of Disney World for the hotel.

Matt: IN!!

Me: youre definitely going you know how to do it right! Pops... You gonna stay home alone with your woman?

Pops: not if i don't have to

M3: you don't

Pops: shit! Oh yeah!

Chuck: what about Cookie!!

Me: you and bring Your comrades I need to talk to

Chuckie: oh Cookies going!

Me: I didn't know he could do the Conga.

Jesse: yes you did!

Me: no wonder it looked familiar.