#thirty six years as prove of concept

[kindnpolite]

JULIAN WRIGHT ✦ THIRTY-6 ✦ THE PIEMAKER

❝ Never be so polite, you forget your power . . . Never wield such power, you forget to be polite . ❞

🥧 .*·。ﾟ ━ ( lee pace / cis man / he/him ) i think i just saw JULIAN WRIGHT  on the subway.  the THIRTY-SIX year old CAFE OWNER has been living on cornelia street for SIX YEARS. Julian’s friends know him to be helpful, honest, & witty  , but he has a reputation on cornelia street for being naive, gullible & self conscious. when i see first name , i can’t help but think of  smell of fresh baked bread in the morning, nervous laughter, and writing uncomfortable news in cake icing !  in  fact , i sometimes i think i hear MARJORIE, THE LAKES, TIS THE DAMN SEASON 

NAME: Julian Alexander Wright.

FACECLAIM: Lee Pace

PRONOUNS : He/Him

GENDER: Cis-Man

AGE: Thirty-six

ORIENTATION: Homosexual. The one thing about being in a small town that Julian doesn’t miss is the small town gossip. It’s partly the reason he began to feel more comfortable staying in New York where he was able to explore his sexuality without judgement or fear. Since growing up though, he’s accepted that side of himself though he still tends to keep it on a need to know basis.

HOMETOWN: Grand Rapids, MI

OCCUPATION: Owner and operator of Marjorie’s. Marjorie’s – the local cafe & bakery open since 1931. Made from the freshest local ingredients you can find bread, cake, and pies baked to order. Don’t forget to grab a jar of their famous Marjorie’s marmalade!

BIOGRAPHY

There’s a saying, that New Yorkers are born all over the world. However for Julian, he had always felt like he was misplaced. New York is full of constant noise and people always in a rush to get where they’re going. For a young Julian, a kid with big eyes and fragile feelings, he felt like grass trying to grow through the cracks in the sidewalk cement. He had always been a quite, skittish, and awkward but always well meaning. Seemingly too soft, his parents would send him to spend the summers with his grandmother Marjorie where he was initially overwhelmed by all the hustle and bustle of the city. However, despite his initial reluctance, he grew to love those summers.He would help her at her bakery, reading a book as he worked the counter. Meanwhile his grandmother greeted every customer by name with a smile and light conversation, and little Julian wondered how she made it look so easy.

He learned that in New York, he could be anyone he wanted to be. No one knew how bitterly uncool he was back home, how he struggled to make small talk and spent his afternoons browsing internet forums. Julian was the mysterious out of town-er, coming and going like a summer breeze. It was nice to see people get excited about his return to the neighborhood, hearing his name yelled out with enthusiasm turning a corner in the grocery aisle. Once he got older, he had come into his own, growing into his long limbs and found people who seemed to like him for who he was. Slowly his visits became less frequent, and the summer loves became a distant memory. Nothing more than a random social media like every couple of months and a quick facetime call to his grandmother once a guilty reminder flashed on his phone.

However, when Marjorie got sick, Julian had taken it upon himself to become her caregiver. So he put law school on pause to help keep her cafe running. While it seemed like an insane concept to his friends, to Julian it was a no brainer. Besides, it would be just like those summers oh-so long ago, right? It turns out, seeing how things work from above the counter, baking is a lot more technical than he had thought. Though it proved to be much more fulfilling than studying at his prestigious Ivy League graduate school. Every day he was able to see the way a customer’s face would light up at the first bite of their morning bagel or the love in a young couple’s eyes as they picked out their wedding cake, it actually made him excited to get up in the morning even during the cold months when he was warm and comfortable wrapped up in his comforter.

Unfortunately, those idyllic mornings of preparing the shop wouldn’t last as long as Julian would have liked -- When Marjorie passed away, Julian was utterly distraught. It was like he became a shell of himself and it look him weeks to even set foot into the cafe which she had left to him. It came with a heavy heart when he put up the bakery for sale, but he didn’t know if he would ever enter Marjorie’s without breaking into tears. It was only when a little girl approached him at the farmer’s market asking if he would open to in time to make her birthday cake that he realized that he wasn’t ready to give up on the legacy his grandmother created in the town. It was that moment that he decided that he couldn’t just leave. So he took down the For Sale sign and put on the apron, making his residence permanent. While it has been an overwhelming experience, he realizes it was the community that made it worth it. Even when the days are hard, it’s the smile in people’s faces that he feels his grandmother’s warmth still with him.

[thequeernessofpostsovietpop]

On t.A.T.u

"Я сошла с ума, я сошла с ума Мне нужна она, мне нужна она" - t.A.T.u, Я сошла с ума ("I've lost my mind")

The Russian, faux lesbian pop duo t.A.T.u were quite controversial across the world at the height of their career in the 2000s. Their provocative, pseudo lesbianism was disapproved by Russian conservatism due to homophobia, while outside of Russia their were concerns over their performances and music videos being child exploitation and ultimately appealing to pedophiles, and lastly the Western European and American LGBTQ+ disapproved of their faux lesbianism due to it being 'bait' for the queer community, as well as a shallow representation of lesbians meant to appeal to heterosexual men. Perhaps all these ideas can coexist, one shouldn't negate the other.

An article that discusses the complexities of t.A.T.u is Dana Heller's "t.A.T.u. You! Russia, the global politics of Eurovision, and lesbian pop" where she argues that the many contradictions of T.a.t.u can be applied to the way "Russia is currently engaging with concepts of the national and the international." (Heller, 2007, 195). One of these complexities includes, " t.A.T.u’s same-sex eroticism is constructed to arouse heterosexual male fantasies and to sell records to a younger audience receptive to explorations of sexual desire that defy regulation and normalisation and that speak to queer desires in terms that champion the authenticity of feeling and object attachment over investments in the politics of identity" (Heller, 2007, 206).

Heller explains that t.A.T.u. project began in 1999, when the two members, Lena Katina and Julia Volkova were only 14 (Heller, 2007, 196). The band was created by Ivan Shapovalov, "a thirty-six year-old former child psychologist-turned-advertising executive" who sensed "homoerotic energy" between Julia and Lena when he saw them perform together (Heller, 2007, 196). This inspired Shapovalov to create this "underage sex project" or a girl group who would greatly depend on their performance of provocative sexuality (Heller, 2007, 196).

"People visit pornographic sites above all others’, Shapovalov has said in explaining his motive. ‘I analyzed it and found 90% of people using the Internet go to porno sites first, and of these nine in 10 are looking for underage entertainment. This means there is big interest as well as some dissatisfaction – their needs are not being met" (Heller, 2007, 196). Shapovalov's response to this "lack" of "underage entertainment" was to create t.A.T.u. (the acronym in English meaning "this one loves the other"). While this was seemingly "genius move" on the part Shapovalov, the fairly short lived success of this project (it ended in 2011), proved detrimental to Julia and Lena mentally. The project ultimately put a riff between them, Julia broke her vocal chords during their second album (Lyudi Invalidy) and her voice haven't been the same since then, and lastly, bombardment from the press and playing a particular sexual persona at a young age also was detrimental to their mental health.

As it was mentioned above, t.A.T.u. were meant to be appealing to a straight male audience, but they also had quite the audience of queer youth. In  Anastasiia Fedorova's article "Russia's queer revolution: reclaiming the not-so-hidden history of the LGBTQ+ underground" she states "When t.A.t.U.’s single All The Things She Said — undoubtedly Russia’s most well known contribution to queer pop culture — came out in 2000, I was 11 years old. I remember seeing the music video on TV: Lena Katina and Yulia Volkova making out in the rain wearing wet school uniforms. I am not sure if the sight of those short checked skirts and rebellious kisses awakened queer desire in me per say, but I was definitely mesmerised by the t.A.t.U universe. The band’s follow-up single, Not Gonna Get Us, was even more powerful. In the video, the duo drove through a blizzard in a hijacked lorry, racing to escape. I remember listening to t.A.t.U. CDs after school, one of the many Russian teens going through a sexual awakening. The desires t.A.t.U. sang about were complex: Simple Motions mused on social conformism, masturbation and queer sex; while Gay Boy described an irresistible attraction to a gay male friend" (Fedorova, 2020).

Perhaps t.A.T.u. were more than just "queer baiters'' or mere victims of child exploitation. In the end the band positively stood out to many queer youth growing up in the 2000s, especially in Russia and Eastern Europe. Perhaps the sound of the songs have become dated, and the sexual provocativeness of their early live performance and music videos leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but many of their complex, often bleak lyrics (at least in Russian) and angsty, passionate vocals really capture the despair and longing many queer teens feel.

Compared to "All the Things She Said" which could be interpreted as more empowering, "Я сошла с ума" potentially has a more realistic vision for what it feels like to be queer Russian teenager, or in this case a young Russian lesbian. Instead of the chorus being "All the things she said running through my head" (in English) it's "I've lost my mind, I need her." This speaks to a feeling forbidden desire and also the pathologization or medicalization of homosexuality (and many will still associate being homosexual with being ill,, including many Russians). "Без тебя я не я, без тебя меня нет" and "А они говорят, надо срочно лечить" or " Without you I'm not myself, without you I don't exist" and "And they say, you need (medical) help now" speak to these ideas as well.

My favorite song by t.A.T.u. will always be "Obezyanka Nol" or "Monkey Zero" from the darker and more compelling, but less commercially successful "Lyudi Invalidy" (which roughly translated to disabled people, which also sparked quite some controversy, but this track is more about being a "moral invalid" or being incapable of love rather than having a physical or mental disability). I interpreted "Obezyanka Nol" as being a song about the oppression, mockery, pathologization that homosexuals go through. The lines "Честных психов можно не лечить," "Обезьянки будут жить в тюрьме," "Всем любовь, а обезьянкам грусть" or "Honest psychos don't have to be treated", "Monkeys will live in prison," and 'Everyone gets love, but monkeys only get sorrow" speak to the medicalization of homosexuality even more bluntly and sorrowfully than" "Я сошла с ума."

Much like Fedorova, I grew up obsessed with t.A.T.u. As a child in the 2000s, I truly believed that they were lesbians and thought that was the coolest, finding it was all a ruse broke my hear. At least both member seem to be firm LGBTQ+ allies (well, Julia isn't quite since she made homophobic comments towards gay men). Despite all the problems surrounding the group, I believe their story is still relevant and that many of their (Russian) songs hold up, while the "All the things she said" will likely continue being an anthem for Western queer youth in the future. And in the end, their music will always be very dear to me as someone Russian and is well, not very heterosexual.

Citations:

Fedorova, Anastasiia. “Russia's Queer Revolution: Reclaiming the Not-so-Hidden History of the LGBTQ+ Underground.” The Calvert Journal, https://www.calvertjournal.com/features/show/12096/russian-queer-revolution-exhibition-essay-growing-up-lgbtq.

HELLER, DANA. “T.a.t.u.. You! Russia, the Global Politics of Eurovision, and Lesbian Pop.” Popular Music, vol. 26, no. 2, 2007, pp. 195–210., https://doi.org/10.1017/s0261143007001237.

[pollyna]

Ice proposes to Mav back in 1995 and since that day Maverick talks about him as his husband. His husband does this, those and that, his husband is going to be an Admiral and teach with him the new class at TOP GUN, his husband. He can't really say that to anyone and when, in 2015, they can finally marry Mav doesn't even asks Ice, he just takes him by hand and drive straight to the first court of justice he can find. They get married with two stranger by their side, twenty years after Ice proposal and it's the best wedding they could have asked for.

[emotionallyits2009]

deancas fic rec list!

hello everyone! happy christmas to those who celebrate it, my gift to you is my fic rec list that i said i would make like a month ago. the only thing it is organized by is canonverse vs alternate universe. tried to cover a variety of subjects but there are in particular many fics of the genre “postcanon where cas is human and he and dean live together and slowly finally get their shit together” because i know what i’m about, son. HOPE U ENJOY. and if you wanna talk about any of them or rec me other fics please do. :) 

Canonverse:

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo, 30k, explicit “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.” There are many fics set in a post-canon universe where Cas is human and he and Dean live together and slowly fall into a relationship. Imo this one is the best of the best of that genre. This was one of the first fics I read back in July when I was getting Back Into Supernatural where I was like oh fuck I’m like in this. Dean builds Cas planters and bookshelves and a chicken coop and they fight and work through it.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits, 10k, explicit For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. Really Gets the dynamic of Cas doesn’t think Dean wants him to stay/Dean thinks Cas will leave the first chance he gets. Also a nice example of Cas thinking he’s not wanted if he’s not useful/powerful and being told otherwise. Another all-time fave!

lonely hearts by outphastthemoat, 4.5k, gen He thinks he might give up having his own anything just to be able to step foot inside the room next door and sit on the edge of Dean’s bed instead. This one is for the CAS GIRLS who know what LONELINESS feels like.

Helionneiros by aeli_kindara, 24.2k, mature In which Dean visits his mother, and Claire takes Cas on a hunt. I’m always on the lookout for more fic with Claire and Jack. Jack doesn’t show up until the end here but the relationship between Cas and Claire is really nice.

Crawl by aeriallon, 11k, explicit It’s been almost four years since Castiel left Kansas; he'd eventually settled in an island town where he has a job, a house, and a life without the Winchesters. Every winter, Dean drives down to the coast to see him. Another fic where Cas is human but in this one he took some time for himself and got some distance from the Winchesters! He gets to be competent and weird as a human and we love that for him. I must warn you all that this fic contains one use of the phrase “making love” which would normally put me right off but it’s still worth reading. The first of a three-part series.

home where you hold me by microcomets, 1.6k, gen Cas and Dean, in the moments between their battles, ache for quiet spaces. Technically this is a coda to 10x20 but you don’t need the episode for context. Short and very sweet.

Build a Home by domesticadventures, 20.1k, teen After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them. He doesn’t. This one is so cute it’s like what if once they were done saving the world Sam and Dean actually invited other hunters to move into the bunker with them. Obviously Dean wants that to include Cas but doesn’t know how to use his words.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo, 22.4k, explicit This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore. Angst fic! They go on a road trip and Dean is severely fucked up post-Mark of Cain.

Unknown Quantities by xylodemon, 8.6k, explicit No one ever tells Dean anything. Another nice getting-together fic.

Creature of Habit by trinityofone, 5.2k, teen The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well. This one is ancient by destiel standards (written during season 5) but it manages to nail the married couple vibes they give off in later seasons. Cas is a bitch and Dean likes him so much. <3

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by Tuesday, 11.2k, mature Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this. Another old one that is a lot of fun! They get Accidental Angel Married and if you don’t enjoy dumb fanfiction tropes like that I don’t know what to say to you.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi, 4k, teen In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything. The OTHER accidental angel marriage fic written in 2010. 

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord, 24.8k, explicit A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe. Time travel is FUN. There’s an excellent part where (minor spoilers) future!Dean is like, “Guess what, asshole? You like me so much you marry me!!!!!!!!!!!” to 2008!Castiel that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Also just a good reminder of how most problems in life are temporary and if you could go back in time to talk to your younger self you’d be like, “Hey man. Chill out. You get through it.”

The Path of Fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, mature After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years. There’s a lot of amnesia fic and djinn fic out there were Dean wakes up ~suddenly together with Cas~ but I like this one in particular because he’s initially very confused and kind of a dick about it until he acknowledges that being with Cas makes him happy.

take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden, 95k, explicit Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself. Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance. Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together. Do you wanna read almost one hundred thousand words of Dean and Cas having extremely intense feelings but refusing to voice them aloud? Haha of course you do that’s why you’re here. There’s also a lot about Cas adjusting to being human and being depressed about it which might resonate if you’ve ever felt weird about having a body. To be honest the author could stand to use a few more commas but there were also half a dozen moments that made me put my phone down and drag my hand slowly over my face and whisper “oh my god” to myself which is like, the ultimate measure of a good fanfiction so it gets to be on the list.

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers, 31.6k, explicit dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas. Have you seen the fanon (apparently pioneered by Mr. Jackles “Original Deankin” Ackles himself) that Dean used to prostitute himself to feed himself and Sam when they were younger? Are you interested in exploring that concept in fanfiction? Well, this is the only fic you need. Mind the tags on this one! It’s not what I’d call happy but it’s good.

Some Assembly Required by narrow_staircases, 47k, mature It’s September of 2005, and Dean Winchester, in an attempt to outrun old mistakes and painful memories, finds himself in southern Kentucky on a wild goose chase. He’s completely certain this weird religious movement he’s “investigating” is a hoax, despite the miraculous healings people report, and he’ll be back on the road in a day or two. Things are looking up when he meets Cas, an awkward (and gorgeous) graduate student who’s actually doing honest-to-god research into the local tent revival meetings. When that research takes a weird and personal turn, Dean’s left to face two very serious realities: one, this may be a real case after all, and two, he’s fallen way harder for Cas than he should ever have let himself. Stanford-era AU of Dean trying to avoid his father and getting in over his head on a case.

Alternate universe:

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets, 57k, mature Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The  professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen. Mundane AUs in this fandom have to be really, really good to catch my attention and this one is! It’s exactly what it says in the summary and the characterization is spot-on. 

Out to Drift by deathbanjo, 20.9k, mature Dean drives a black car with a loud engine. He lies too easily. He keeps a gun in the back of his jeans, and Castiel isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean has killed someone before. Two people in fucked-up unstable situations meeting and forming a connection. Honestly guys I really just love deathbanjo.

[ensereins]

                   hi  everyone  !  i’m  super  excited  to  be  here  and  to  write  with  you  all  !  i  love  the  concept  of  the  enter  rp  ,  so  i’m  really  excited  to  explore  where  jianyu  fits  with  everyone  .  that  aside  ,  you  guys  can  call  me  k  !  i  prefer  she / they  pronouns  (  pls  feel  free  to  use  them  interchangeably  )  ,  i’m  twenty - five  ,  and  i  currently  reside  in  the  est  time  zone  .  this  is  my  first  time  using  ni  ni  as  a  faceclaim  so  i  can  only  hope  i  can  do  her  some  justice  .  as  for  plotting  ,  i’m  always  down  to  use  the  messaging  system  here  on  tumblr  ,  or  i  can  send  you  my  dscrd  —  whichever  is  more  convenient  for  you  !

           ◜          *          :          ni     ni     .     cis     woman     &     she     /     her     .     gymnopédie     no.     1     by     erik     satie     .          ━━          the     legend     surrounding     london’s     l’academiae     furorum     would     not     be     complete     without     JIANYU     ZHANG     .     the     academy's     THIRTY     THREE     year     old     BALLET     MASTER     has     been     with     furore     for     TWO     YEARS     ,     oft     described     as     TACITURN     ,     EXIGENT     ,     WARMHEARTED     ,     BELLICOSE          &          has     proved     utterly     indispensable     to     the     company.     in     passing     ,     they’ve     come     to     be     associated     with     CINNAMON     ROLLS     FRESH     FROM     THE     OVEN     ,     THE     LINGERING     OF     HER     PERFUME     ON     YOUR     PILLOW     ,     AN     ORCHID     BLOOMING     IN     THE     SPRINGTIME     &     the     gentle     glide     of     cold     silk     sheets     on     warm     skin     ,     melodious     laughter     echoing     in     silent     passageways     ,     slow     dancing     in     a     burning     room     ,     a     glittering     diamond     ring     that     suddenly     weighs     a     thousand     pounds     ,     and     the     inescapable     feeling     of     pressures     she     never     wanted     to     experience     .     whether     this     will     be     their     final     curtain     call     is     anyone's     guess          &          the     company’s     worst     nightmare     . 

template  credit  :  @kittyshcherbatsky  . extended  character  stats  credit  :  @kittyshcherbatsky  &  @jemsourced  . all  gifs  of  ni  ni  used  on  this  blog  were  created  by  @keetika  .  

mini  statistics  .

                    name  :  zhang  jianyu  .  nicknames  :  jia  (  commonly  used  )  or  jiji  .  date  of  birth  :  july  19th  ,  1988  .  place  of  birth  :  chicago  ,  il  .  occupation  :  ballet  master  at  l’academiae  furorum  .  language(s)  spoken  :  mandarin  ,  english  ,  and  french  .  orientation  :  bisexual  and  biromantic  .  father  :  zhang  nianzu  .  mother  :  wu  yuyan  .  ethnicity  :  chinese  .  nationality  :  chinese  american  .  full  statistics  here  .

biography  .

                    zhang  nianzu  and  wu  yuyan  are  inching  closer  to  their  forties  when  they  finally  have  their  first  child  .  the  couple  put  off  having  children  until  they  were  successful  in  their  individual  careers  ,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  two  had  made  it  .  the  couple  were  living  in  a  million  dollar  high - rise  in  the  city  of  chicago  when  they  brought  home  their  baby  girl  whom  they  named  jianyu  .  she’s  born  into  the  lap  of  luxury  in  the  suburbs  of  chicago  as  she  grows  up  at  the  only  child  for  a  few  years  .  while  growing  up  ,  jia  attended  the  best  school  that  money  could  afford  ,  but  there  was  something  more  creative  brewing  inside  the  little  girl  .

                    jia  was  six  when  her  parents  took  her  to  her  first  ballet  .  it  had  been  during  the  holiday  season  ,  so  it’s  no  surprise  that  they  went  to  see  the  nutcracker  .  jia’s  parents  didn’t  think  their  daughter  would  enjoy  the  show  considering  her  young  age—  they  were  fully  expecting  to  have  to  carry  the  little  girl  back  to  the  car  ,  but  imagine  their  surprise  when  two  little  hands  join  in  the  audience’s  standing  ovation  .  it  was  from  that  moment  that  jia  knew  she  wanted  to  do  ballet  like  the  pretty  woman  on  stage  .  and  so  ,  her  parents  went  out  of  their  way  to  get  their  daughter  into  lessons  . 

                    of  course  ,  ballet  did  not  come  easily  to  jia  .  she  was  new  to  the  scene  ,  and  the  structure  was  hard  to  keep  up  with  ,  but  she  never  quit  .  even  when  she  wanted  to  cry  or  when  her  feet  were  sore  from  late  practices  ,  jia  never  gave  up  pursuing  her  dream  .  jia  continues  to  push  herself  ,  making  sure  to  keep  up  her  grades  so  she  could  dance  ,  and  it  all  begins  to  pay  off  .  she  suddenly  finds  herself  being  able  to  audition  to  lead  roles  as  the  confidence  she  worked  so  hard  to  gain  begins  to  pay  off  .  jia  begins  to  go  on  small  tours  with  her  dance  company  too  ,  showing  off  her  skills  to  audiences  nationwide  .

                   jia  graduates  from  high  school  ,  and  with  an  acceptance  to  the  the  juilliard  school  in  her  back  pocket  .  it  had  been  everything  she  was  working  so  hard  to  achieve  ,  and  it  was  finally  hers  .  while  at  juilliard  ,  jia  is  able  to  explore  other  areas  of  dance  that  she  never  got  to  try  out  due  to  her  focus  on  ballet  ,  but  it  never  stops  being  her  first  love  .  jia  even  has  the  opportunity  to  choreograph  a  few  pieces  for  showcases  ,  and  it’s  just  a  bigger  taste  at  what  she  wanted  to  have  once  graduated  from  juilliard  .  when  she  does  finally  graduates  ,  jia  falls  into  the  category  of  starving  artist  for  a  while  (  but  was  she  really  a  starving  artist  with  wealthy  parents  backing  her  up  ?  not  really  )  .

                    for  a  short  while  ,  she  works  at  one  of  the  smaller  companies  in  new  york  ,  building  up  her  skill  and  wanting  to  be  prepared  for  when  she  ultimately  auditions  for  a  bigger  company  .  jia  eventually  gets  the  opportunity  to  audition  for  american  ballet  theatre  ,  and  it’s  with  all  ten  fingers  and  toes  crossed  after  a  grueling  audition  process  that  she  finds  herself  with  the  role  of  soloist  .  it’s  a  step  up  from  the  corps  at  her  previous  company  ,  and  jia  is  excited  to  have  her  new  role  .  she’s  with  american  ballet  for  the  next  ten  years  ,  and  while  there  ,  jia  manages  to  fall  in  love  .  jia  gets  married  and  is  happily  married  for  five  years  before  they  get  a  divorce  .

                   at  american  ballet  ,  jia  works  her  way  up  to  becoming  principal  dancer  ,  and  she  stays  there  until  she  decides  to  retire  from  dancing  full - time  at  the  age  of  30  .  her  final  show  is  swan  lake  ,  and  it’s  shortly  thereafter  that  she  gets  approached  to  become  a  ballet  master  at  l’academiae  .  

at  l’academiae  .

jia  is  one  of  the  newer  ballet  masters  ,  and  i  like  to  think  that  when  she  first  started  ,  she  struggled  with  finding  her  footing  .  although  she  worked  at  a  prestigious  ballet  theatre  as  a  principal  dancer  in  the  past  ,  it  was  hard  for  her  to  take  on  a  role  where  others  looked  to  her  for  guidance  .

as  a  ballet  master  ,  jia  is  strict  but  nurturing  .  she  expects  for  the  dancers  to  come  in  ready  for  their  rehearsals  ,  but  even  with  her  list  of  expectations  ,  she  also  knows  when  dancers  may  need  a  little  extra  help  .  she’s  not  against  providing  extra  help  or  even  setting  aside  time  to  assist  further  ;  she’s  got  no  problem  lending  a  listening  ear  either  .

even  though  it’s  been  two  years  since  she  joined  l’academiae  she’s  still  trying  to  find  her  footing  and  probably  makes  mistakes  at  times  .  as  a  former  principal  dancer  ,  she  understands  the  pressures  and  sometimes  she  can  get  a  little  too  lenient  .

headcanons  .

jia  is  currently  in  her  sleek  bob  era  so  that’s  where  we’re  at  🧍🏾‍♀️  .  she’s  been  in  this  era  for  a  good  two  years  since  she  came  to  l’academiae  and  since  her  divorce  ;  she  felt  as  though  she  needed  a  change  .

in  general  ,  jia  is  a  very  put - together  woman  ,  even  if  she  doesn’t  always  appear  that  way  .  her  life  is  organized  by  planners  and  she  has  no  problems  with  picking  out  her  clothes  the  night  before  .  probably  even  goes  as  far  as  pulling  out  which  coffee  mug  she  wants  to  use  the  next  morning  .

she  tries  her  best  to  stay  out  of  drama  but  let’s  be  real  ...  it’s  nearly  impossible  .  she  has  enough  drama  in  her  life  ,  but  jia  isn’t  fully  capable  of  avoiding  drama  because  she’s  nosy  ,  and  also  because  drama  is  just  ...  it’s  sometimes  like  a  magnet  to  her  .

while  jia  enjoys  designer  clothes  and  accessories  ,  she’s  most  comfortable  when  when  she  can  clean  off  her  makeup  and  put  on  her  softest  loungewear  .  i  envision  that  when  she’s  at  l’academiae  she’s  very  well  put - together  without  a  hair  out  of  place  ,  but  when  she’s  home  it’s  all  loose  fitting  clothes  and  hair  pulled  back  by  claw  clips  .

connections  .

i  haven’t  fleshed  out  jia’s  entire  wanted  connections  page  yet  ,  but  here  are  a  few  that  i  would  really  like  to  have  !  as  always  ,  i’m  100%  down  to  fill  any  plots  that  you  may  have  ,  just  let  me  know  !

this  might  be  a  crazy  plot  ,  but  a  little  bit  of  competition  perhaps  ?  perhaps  it’s  with  another  ballet  master  ,  but  they  have  the  tendency  of  butting  heads  and  getting  into  bickering  matches  sometimes  simply  because  they  want  their  classes  to  be  the  best  .  there’s  also  the  possibility  that  they  got  off  on  the  wrong  foot  and  they  just  haven’t  gotten  along  since  .

perhaps  a  friends  with  benefits  ,  but  with  no  underlying  feelings  .  they  simply  spend  time  with  each  other  to  relieve  stress  and  perhaps  they  end  up  getting  along  well  .  

a  blind  date  .  their  mutual  friends  could  have  set  them  up  on  a  date  without  realizing  that  they  work  together  ,  and  perhaps  they  don’t  work  closely  enough  ,  that’s  why  they  didn’t  recognize  each  other’s  names  .

the  platonic  soulmate  .  jia  and  this  muse  get  along  extremely  well  ,  and  have  essentially  been  joined  at  the  hip  since  they  met  .  they’re  one  of  the  only  people  who  jia  allows  herself  to  be  vulnerable  with  ,  and  she’d  even  go  to  the  extent  of  saying  that  they’re  her  best friend  .  

i  swear  i  usually  have  more  than  this  but  i’m  also  better  at  brainstorming  after  reading  some  intros  ,  so  let’s  brainstorm  !  i’m  open  to  anything  🥰

[wardenannie]

I have read some vampire au about levi being vampire. How about Hange being hot vampire this time?

Also can you please make it E rated

oooooo, love this concept <3

Part 2 will contain smut and will be tomorrows fic!

Fictober Day 3: Vampire (pt 1)

-

They watched him sleep. Perched precariously in the spanning arms of an elm tree that overlooked the single window into his tiny one-bedroom. He slept so peacefully, despite the labor of his agonizing days. Hange knew, because they had watched him then, too.

They had watched him for a year, now. A year of following him from the shadows, protecting him from his foes though he might not have realized it. He had earned himself many adversaries in his forays into the underworld. 

Their throat burned with thirst, muscles coiling instinctively as his tangy scent permeated the window panes and met their predatory nostrils. Hunger flared in their gut, but also desire mounted between their thighs, burning through their middle and into their flexing fingertips. 

This wasn’t any mundane victim. This was Levi. Levi Ackerman. They had been the best of friends once-upon-a-time, maybe even more than that. 

Hange Zoe was his protector, self-assigned. His demented guardian angel. A twisted, tortured (and unwilling) creature of the night turned to noble purpose... perhaps. 

And he thought they were dead.

"But I could never leave you," Hange cooed softly, noting how his eyes fluttered behind pale lids.

They’d been missing for three years. For three long years they had been separated from him. For three long years they had stalked the night, searching for their purpose. Their reason to persist. And here he was. What would he think when they revealed themself to him? What would he say? Would he be very frightened to see his almost lover, pale skinned and yellow eyed, returned to hold him in the night?

Levi was thirty-nine, now. 

If Hange were still alive they would have been thirty-six. But years mattered not to an eternal body. 

“Tonight’s the night,” Hange murmured to themself. 

Gracefully, they leapt towards the open window, punching out the screen with eerie silence and landing in a crouch on his bedroom floor. They could smell the smack under his bed, the next days sell. He’d fallen far since they’d been ripped away from one another. 

He had been reformed, for a while. But once Hange was ripped from him he had slipped back into his old life, fallen back in with his old crowd. 

“I’m here now,” Hange exhaled, slowly rising to their feet. 

Levi didn’t so much as stir, even as the temperature in the room fell with Hange’s presence. 

They circled around the foot of the bed, coming to kneel beside Levi’s head. Biting back their hunger, Hange inhaled sharply, taking in the whole of his scent. He was healthy still, thank God. Strong despite the days spent meandering in the shadows. 

Levi stirred slightly, lids fluttering, turning onto his side to face Hange fully, as though his subconscious naturally sought Hange out. 

“Still so pretty,” Hange mumbled, cold breath stirring the hair on Levi’s forehead. Tentatively, they reached forward, pushing the dark strands away from his eyes. His skin was so, so warm. They could hear his heart beating, steady and slow in his sleeping chest. 

Hange blinked at him, pondering what was to come next. It wasn’t too late to leave, it wasn’t too late to flee into the night and never look back; never touch the life of Levi Ackerman ever again. 

But they couldn’t. They went rigid at the thought. For three years they had been separated from one another. They couldn’t bear another moment, let alone an eternity. 

“I’m sorry,” The breathed, and they leaned forward, towards the pale exposed column of Levi’s throat. His skin was pristine, smooth and beautiful, and Hange was loathe to pierce it. But already their fangs were pricking their lips, curved, saliva pooling in their mouth with anticipation. 

Then, just as Hange was descending for that final, ultimate, turning bite, Levi jerked with a sharp intake of breath. His slate grey eyes flew open and he sat up. Had Hange been human, they would have smacked heads, but they weren’t, and their keen reflexes had them poised back on their haunches in a single beat of Levi’s heart. 

“What the fuck?” His eyes were on them, bleary and confused, then recognition bled across his handsome face. Those beautiful eyes widened, He began to shake, sitting up and leaning forward like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “This is a dream.” 

Hange only swallowed, bloodlust coursing through their veins at the sound of Levi’s thundering heart. 

“Hange tell me that this is a dream... you’re dead.” His voice quavered. 

“In a way I am, I suppose,” Their answering smile was sheepish, sad. 

Levi shook his head, his voice cracking as he spoke through obvious tears, “I... I found the blood. I found the knife. You’re dead.” 

“Do you really think I’d leave you so easily, short-stuff?” Despite the danger, Hange closed the distance between them, perching lightly on the bed beside Levi. They took his hand in their own, noting the newness of some of his scars. 

Levi jumped slightly at the cold of their skin, “I don’t understand. I... what’s wrong with you, are you sick?” 

“No,” Hange answered, coolly. Their left hand caressed up the bare skin of his shoulder, cupping his cheek. “But I’ve been so lonely, Levi.” 

“Lonely?” 

Hange nodded, “Three years is a long time... I don’t want to be alone anymore.” 

“I’m here,” Levi announced fiercely, not yet understanding the reason for Hange’s midnight visitation. “I’m here. If it’s really you Hange, I’ll always be here.” 

A muscle jumped in Hange’s jaw, and they curled back their lip, exposing the white daggers of their canine teeth. Their eyes flashed yellow in the dark, but Levi did not recoil, he only stared, gap mouthed and wide eyed. 

“I want you to be with me, Levi,” They cooed, dropping his hand and taking his face fully between their palms. “You’re all I had left in my old life, you were the person who mattered most to me. You still are. I... I love you.” 

Levi blinked rapidly at the confession, lips forming around words he simply could not speak. He gripped Hange’s wrist in his hand, his warmth permeated their being, warming them to their core. For a brief moment they felt alive. 

“You still don’t think I’m real...” Hange breathed between them, eyes fluttering to his lips. 

“You’re dead, Hange. I found the scene. I spoke at your funeral,” a single tear glimmered on his cheek. 

“But you never found a body, did you? You didn’t have anything to bury.” 

Levi shook his head, finally looking away. Hange dropped their hands, “There was too much blood, shitty-glasses. You’re dead.” 

Hange shook their head fiercely, “No. No. Let me show it to you. Let me prove to you that I’m here, that I’m alive.” 

“How-

They kissed him.

[squidproquoclarice]

What’s Arthur’s recovery treatment like in Sunrise in terms of medically, because it was really interesting to see such a realistic view on how he would recover from the drastic effects of TB. And the way you wrote that the TB although dormant is always gunna be there with him for the rest of his life was a good other aspect to his character, and added to the strength he has, considering the stigma too attached to the disease at that time, and especially once you get to the last chapter and see how far he’s come from the first chapter, I was just like good for him. It was great.

Combining this with another similar Ask:  “Can you talk about Arthur’s proceduree with the cactus? Just that him living one with those scars of treatment.. it’s great for the story”.   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So as I’ve remarked on his gunshot wound, I hate “Hollywood” medicine and how it gives us such an inaccurate impression of what treatment and recovery for something is like.  It was important to me that I depicted the actual process of dealing with tuberculosis recovery realistically, both medically and for the period.  I didn’t want to just skip ahead to three years later and go “And Arthur was well again”.  I also absolutely didn’t want to go the route that I’ve seen of claiming “nonspecific magic Indian cure from Rains Fall” because holy shit, that’s exoticism-as-Other and racism.   Arthur is badly off at the end of Chapter 6.  His TB has run him down to the point where, combined with his fight injuries and hypothermia, it was too much for him in-game.  That’s really not something you can sleep off for a few days or get rid of by popping a few DayQuil.   Being as antibiotics were several decades in the future, TB was everywhere at the time of RDR2.  It was one of the leading causes of death in 1900 America at 194 deaths per 100,000 people.  To give you a comparison to another deadly communicable respiratory disease that kills slowly, leaves chronic impact to survivors, and has huge impacts to society, daily life, and public health?  As per Johns Hopkins University stats, the current American COVID-19 death rate is 149 deaths per 100K.  That’s how bad TB was.      Tuberculosis wasn’t a guaranteed death sentence like people assume from the game.  But yes, it was very likely.  Roughly 1/2 to 2/3 of people who contract active tuberculosis die within five years without antibiotic treatment.  Although interestingly, those who make it to 5 years in untreated tuberculosis then show a 60% spontaneous remission rate. So making it to 5 years was unlikely, but your odds got pretty decent at that point. Arthur's a resilient man who's beaten the odds before, so I figured it wasn't impossible for him to do so again. In terms of actually getting into the details of medical treatment, 1900 is an interesting point in TB history.  It's sort of a transition point between two regimens of treatment.  

The first is the post-Civil War "rest cure" (advised to Arthur by Dr. Barnes in St. Denis) of going to a climate thought to be more helpful to TB sufferers, and from there getting as much rest and fresh air as possible, and just hoping for the best.  TB was actually a significant part of the Old West as plenty of people came westward for that supposed better climate.  What the ideal climate was varied depending who you asked (hot, hot and dry, mountainous, forest, etc.), and spoiler alert: climate doesn't really affect TB recovery.  Getting away from crowded cities was probably the more effective thing. That relied very heavily on patient initiative, though, and the ability of a family to provide any necessary care, as well as to uproot and move to another place.  Obviously for those in poverty, not likely to happen.  We see this with Thomas Downes, who clearly is poor enough that he wouldn't have had that option.  Many didn’t.  Many died because they simply couldn’t stop working, let alone move halfway across the country.  There were a few sanatoriums/well-known rest places, but they were few and far between.       After 1900, and increasingly after WWI, the notion turned more to TB as an issue requiring direct medical intervention rather than letting people quietly hope for the best.  That led to patients often undergoing quarantine and a formal treatment regimen (which still relied a lot upon rest and fresh air) in either a private or government-run sanatorium.  People went in until they recovered enough to show numerous consecutive negative TB tests and the disease had become latent, or they died.  Some took years to leave, and some took years to die.  This is the institutional phase of TB treatment, and it lasted until it got increasingly superseded by the antibiotic phase post-WWII. What I did with Las Hermanas was create something in that transition phase.  It's a TB ward with a more structured treatment regimen, but there's not the strict bureaucratic oversight and total isolation of patients from family and the world that you see later.  I did bring that notion in later in 1907 with Sadie seeing a poster in New Hanover for the new state-run Six Points TB Sanatorium advising that TB patients would be quarantined there. Las Hermanas' treatment is more the hallmark of a forward-thinking doctor.  Felipe Garcia's trying different things in treatment with that mentality, and taking the unusual step of keeping families with patients (which wouldn't be the case later).  It's something that worked on a micro level, but probably couldn't have happened on a macro level as a nationwide program, so Arthur and Sadie are lucky to have hit upon it.  The total bed rest for a while to start to give the lungs a chance to recover is accurate to some TB treatments of the time, and also later. The treatment there at Las Hermanas does include artificial pneumothorax.  Again, Felipe's a bit ahead of the curve.  It was a known treatment at the time, having been reported, as he says, at an AMA conference in Denver several years before.  It had been noted that spontaneous lung collapse (pneumothorax) in a patient actually had i,proved their TB, and the idea of inducing that collapse deliberately (e.g., "artificial" pneumothorax) got kicked around some.  But it didn't really become commonplace as a treatment until post-1912 with Italian physician Carlo Forlanini "rediscovering" the technique and getting visibility for it--he'd actually been among its pioneers thirty years earlier.  But the fascination with microbiological advancements, including Robert Koch's identification and description of the tuberculosis bacteria in 1882, meant it got sort of shelved for a while.  Again, this increasing use post-1912 is also coinciding with the rise of sanatoriums, where controlled treatment regimens under a doctor’s close direction were more possible. Essentially what happens in classic artificial pneumothorax (AP from here on in) therapy is introducing gas--either air or nitrogen--into the cavity surrounding the lungs (*not* the lung itself) via needle and bellows apparatus.  For video of classic AP being performed around 1925 in a patient in Chicago, watch the first 3 minutes of this video.  It does a good job showing exactly what the procedure looked like, what the equipment looked like, etc. Side note: local anesthetic was definitely used in later years because being jabbed with a decent sized needle deeply enough to puncture your chest wall is not fun.  It's very possible Felipe might have used it, as local anesthetic was a concept known and somewhat used at the time.  It very likely would have been a localized injection of cocaine as more familiar, still-used local anesthetics like lidocaine and novocaine were years in the future.  But, hey, for a cowboy game that's period accurate enough that it gives you cocaine gum, using cocaine as a local anesthetic isn't unreasonable.  ;) The AP apparatus, once it was hooked up, put enough gas in there to cause enough pressure and force to induce a partial or full collapse of an infected lung.  That would help rest that lung or that part of it from struggling to breathe, and also provide an oxygen-deprived environment that would help kill the TB bacteria swarming in the lesions and cavities they had chewed into the tissue of the lungs. Bonus: breathing on one or one-and-partial lung also probably generally obliged patients to rest more. For one quick set of statistics, 23 of 40 patients with lungs successfully collapsed by AP in 1913 showed dramatic improvement in their TB.  So not a magic bullet, but a tool that perhaps upped your odds when done right.  There were more severe AP methods also used later, including phrenectomy and thoracoplasty, but those wouldn't have been seen in 1899 in this case. The problem is that the AP gas pumped into the pleura would eventually leak out, or be absorbed by the body tissue.  There's a somewhat vivid detail in Thomas Mann's "Magic Mountain", a 1924 novel about a TB sanatorium, of a whistling sound issuing from the AP hole.  So the AP process had to be repeated at regular intervals, often called "refills", usually cited as about two weeks from what I read.  AP treatment often continued after symptoms stopped, because they wanted to be damn sure that they hadn't treated only enough to just get ahead of the TB or that this wasn’t just a temporary up-cycle, and the disease was well and truly in remission. They confirmed this in later years with actual tests for TB at regular intervals to track that progress.  I kept that two week refill schedule for Arthur, and also its effect on keeping him tethered to Las Hermanas for a few more years even after he has a more normal, active life.  I think (?) I wrote him as stopping treatments sometime in late 1902, so roughly three years total, and two years post-release as no longer actively symptomatic. All in all, I wrote a treatment that wasn't widespread at the time, but would have been very possible with the knowledge and equipment available.  I went the AP route in the end because I wanted to give Arthur more than just bed rest both for higher survival odds, and also because I think now-obsolete medical history in fiction is interesting. The effects are some of the things I noted in Arthur throughout Sunrise.  Getting jabbed with a needle every two weeks for years is going to produce some scars on the skin.  It would be a tight cluster given you wanted to place your needle very carefully, but they would exist.  We see something similar now with "track marks" in those addicted to intravenous drugs, and I think I noted Arthur or Sadie remembering Swanson having something like it in his arm from years of addiction to injected opiates.    Working on that one or one-and-partial lung during all AP refills also means that Arthur is incapable of really hard daily physical labor, even after being released from Las Hermanas.  The lung capacity, and the stamina, just isn't there.  That was one factor that impacted his ability to get a regular job, which has the effects we see in 1904 of them worrying about money. That's also because even after he's got two fully-inflated and working lungs in later years, he's still not 100%.  While the lesions on the lungs may heal and send the TB into remission, they don't become healthy lung tissue again.  They become scars that still would be visible in later years when X-rays became more common.  So there's a lack of both flexibility to contract/expand and surface area for oxygen exchange that were there with healthy tissue.  In other words, Arthur's lungs are permanently running on a reduced capacity.  His stamina and strength and resilience are going to be affected. He's never going to be exactly what he was before becoming sick due to permanent effects of the damage, as well as just the fact of him going from 36 to 48 and thus just getting into middle age.  If Sunrise was an actual playable game using the RDR2 system, I'd depict that as Arthur's Stamina and Health cores being permanently damaged and capped at a lower level than before.  Probably down 3 bars for the Wapiti chapter and his first six months at Las Hermanas (due to the near-death status initially and then massive muscle and strength loss from all that bed rest), down 2 for the next six months at Las Hermanas and all of 1901 after his release, and down 1 for 1904/1907/1911 and the rest of his life. The other thing is Arthur can't be "cured" with the medicine of the time.  That was pretty much impossible in the pre-antibiotic era given the bacteria could never be entirely killed off in the lungs.  The best you could do was get strong and healthy enough for your immune system to effectively keep the ones left contained and inactive.  So while TB survivors could live healthy, happy lives, they knew that there was always a chance that TB could always come back.  Hence Felipe chewing Arthur out more than once for pushing himself too hard and risking getting run down enough for the TB to have an easier time gaining a foothold again. So his lifestyle's permanently changed in some ways.  He learns to recognize the signs of approaching exhaustion, and having to back away from it and slow down or rest.  Sadie's necessarily become attuned to this as well.  Arthur has to learn his own limits for the sake of self-care, and I think that's not a bad thing given he'd never had any real sense of self-preservation before.  He can't just keep pushing like he used to do, telling himself he'll make up for it later.  He has to commit to taking care of himself for his sake as well as Sadie's well-being, because he knows she can't lose him, just like he can't lose her.  He has to do it later for their children too.  Recognizing that taking care of yourself for the sake of your loved ones is actually protecting and showing them love too, rather than selfishness, is a big step forward for him.  I'll do the work to take care of myself so I can better be here for you, so I don't cause you the pain of watching me suffer or die, plus the emotional and financial and logistical burdens of my not being there. As first Anon noted, he and Sadie tend to keep hush about it unless they can trust someone, given the stigma associated with TB due to fear of the disease.  At some points, Arthur has to wonder if this person knew the truth about him whether he'd be more of a pariah as a notorious outlaw or as a TB survivor.  It didn't necessarily matter that the disease was latent.  All people had to hear was "tuberculosis".  So something like the fact Drew MacFarlane as the father of a TB victim himself not only doesn't stigmatize Arthur, but is willing to work around the TB restrictions, means a lot to both Arthur and Sadie.

[dessarious]

How to Not Get a Date Pt3

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

Marinette actually threw her arms up and stalked away before Damian noticed her. Chloe winced. She was going to have to do something huge to make up for this. When she looked back at Damian he seemed to be waiting for something. Crap. He must have said something.

“Sorry, what was that?” She had to bite back a smile at his annoyed frown. He was cute when he pouted.

“I said, do you really think it’s a good idea to date outside your social class?”

“Excuse me?” Her knee jerk reaction was to be offended but given that he had more than one sibling that started off at a different social class there had to be more to that question than the obvious.

“I just mean that it’s not an easy adjustment and no one knows how they’ll cope with it until it happens. What if the recognition, not to mention the press, are too much for her to handle? Can you afford to risk it? Is it fair to her to ask her to give up any sense of privacy and normalcy just to date you? I just think it would be simpler to pick someone who is already used to such things.” Rational and logical. She should have expected something like that.

“Did you have someone in mind?” She couldn’t help the tease and felt a surge of hope when his cheeks pinkened. “But honestly Damian, that’s not how feelings work. You can’t help who you’re attracted to or fall in love with. Yes, you can date and marry out of convenience but that’s not what I want. I want to be with someone who wants to be with me. I don’t want what my parents have. A sham marriage they play up for the cameras when they actually happen to be in the same city. I want something real. Don’t you?” The look he was giving her… what even was that?

“Yes, I suppose so.” The words were soft, almost like he hadn’t meant to say them out loud. She was going to respond when something caught her attention over his shoulder.

“Damn it! What is he even doing here?” She barely registered Damian’s confused expression as she rushed past him towards the man cornering Mari. The bastard hadn’t even left his house in the last six months so she thought it would be safe. Apparently not. “Shit.” She continued cursing and only vaguely noticed that Damian was beside her. When she got close enough to hear what was being said she felt there was a real possibility she’d end the night in jail for assault.

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, you may think yourself clever but I can have you blacklisted in the fashion industry with one phone call.” Gabriel had never been her favorite person but about a year ago he’d started targeting Mari and no one seemed to know why. Adrien was standing behind his father looking like he was about to throw up. They really needed to get him out of that house. Mari just raised an eyebrow at the fashion mogul.

“Even if you are still that influential in the industry, and I highly doubt it given your current lines, at best you’d be able to blacklist me in the world of high fashion. No offense, but designing thirty thousand dollar dresses that might be worn once doesn’t really appeal to me.” Chloe held back a laugh at Mari’s words and bored tone. Damian could be as concerned as he wanted about how Marinette would handle herself in the spotlight, this proved she was more than up to the task. She walked up behind the shorter girl and glared at Gabriel over her head.

“Not to mention you can’t even do that. My mother is still the last word in fashion and Mari is her favorite up and coming designer. You can take your empty threats and leave.” The disgusted sneer he aimed at the pair of them set her blood boiling. Adrien was making nonsense hand gestures behind him, probably trying to get her to calm down.

“Audrey is fickle in her approval, you of all people should know that.” That’s it she was going to castrate the pompous prick. Before she could snap back, Damian stepped in between, forcing Gabriel to back up.

“And you should know when to roll over. Or do you enjoy being ripped apart by teenagers? Regardless of the influence and power you think you have, I assure you this is a battle you can’t win.” The man didn’t even attempt to hide his contempt.

“This does not concern you Wayne. Run back to your father before you get yourself in over your head.” The demonic smile that took over Damian’s face should have made Gabriel wet his pants but the man was apparently far too wrapped up in his own ego to have any concept of self preservation.

“I believe about half of your current revenue comes from your contracts with Wayne Enterprises, does it not?” Damian didn’t even wait for an answer, and Chloe honestly doubted Gabriel knew anyway. “You might want to rethink your condescension given that as of Monday I’ll be running the Paris branch and I have full authority to cancel any and all contracts if I feel they aren’t in the company’s best interest.”  

“You’re bluffing.” The words seemed to surprise the man even though they came out of his mouth.

“Try me Agreste. Your image has been in a downward spiral for years, that’s all the reason I need to sever all business dealings with you and your company.” Gabriel looked too stunned to respond but Adrien was actually giving Damian a thumbs up behind his back. It was rare anyone struck the man speechless. Mari leaned back to whisper in Chloe’s ear.

“Okay, he just shot past handsome to smoking hot.” They made eye contact and burst out laughing as Gabriel stormed off in a huff, dragging Adrien with him. Damian was frowning at them as though they’d lost their minds.

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[lightsupinthenorth]

Harringrove teachers AU part 2

Part 1

*

First of all, thank you very much to everyone who read, liked and/or reblogged the first part. Also, to the people who reacted or said nice things in the tags: you made my day with your sweet words <3

Tag list: @twoprettyboys, @inkedplume​, @marianaosborne​, @liglitterbug​, @hmg621 @spreckle @goldenweatherharringrove

If anyone wants to be added to or taken off the tag list for the future posts of this AU, let me know ;) 

*

Trying to avoid Steve Harrington soon proved to be impossible. He was pretty much everywhere. The fact he was close to Robin and Heather, who Billy himself had quickly befriended, didn’t help. Steve was always hanging with them in the teachers’ lounge before class and eating with them at the cafeteria at lunch. And, as if it weren’t awkward enough already, Steve and Billy almost never interacted directly. Apparently, Steve was tolerating Billy’s presence, but it didn’t go any further than that. Beside a half hearted “hello” when they saw each other, Steve barely ever said anything to him.

Billy tried to start conversations with him. Several times. But Steve always answered shortly, so Billy dropped it.

And he was angry about it.

Because, even though it pained it greatly to admit it, Billy would have loved for Steve and him to be friends.

Every single person in this school seemed to adore Steve, from the students to the staff.

At least a couple of Billy’s students arrived late to English whenever they had Math with Steve beforehand. They always served Billy the same excuse: they had a question of utmost important to ask “Mr. Harrington”, and it couldn’t have waited their next Math class. Billy didn’t buy the bullshit. Strangely, no one arrived late because they had something to discuss with the teacher when they had History with Murray or Science with Sam before English. Half the students had a crush on “Mr. Harrington”, and that was it.

The students regarding Steve like some kind of God was bad enough without the other teachers doing it too. Robin and Heather hugged him all the time, and Murray was constantly holding him hostage about some weird documentary he had watched or whatever theory he had last come up with, and the school counselor, Joyce, smiled extra warm every time she saw him. Even Hopper, the headmaster, would light up when he talked with Steve.

And Billy understood why. Because, while Steve didn’t lose any love on Billy, he was a ray of sunshine to everyone else. He gave his coworkers bright smiles, asked them how they were as if he genuinely cared (and he probably did) about what was going on in their lives, he gave his students encouragements when they came to the teachers’ lounge asking for him during recess (which happened far more often that it should have) because they had trouble with some mathematical concept that Billy didn’t give a damn about.

Steve was a saint with everlasting patience… Except when it came to Billy, apparently. And Billy was so envious he was nearly green with it.

He was also feeling self-conscious, wondering what Steve had seen in him to shun him even though his kindness knew no bound where anyone else was concerned. It couldn’t just be that Billy looked unprofessional, right? Some people that he’d seen Steve interact with enthusiastically had traits far more negative than that, at least in Billy’s book. It made no sense and frustrated him to no end.

He was starting to think that Steve’s dislike of him was just a visceral reaction and had no valid reason. Then, Steve had to go and do something confusing.

Billy was eating lunch in the cafeteria, waiting for Heather and Robin (and Steve, by extension) to join him, and Steve sat down in front of him. Billy immediately noticed the huge piece of chocolate cake on his tray.

“How come you got some cake? I saw someone take the last piece right in front of me.”

Billy was feeling absurdly sour over it. He could have really gone for something sweet.

“Oh… Maria saved it for me.” Steve admitted.

At least, he had the decency to look sheepish.

“Right…” Billy replied, pouting a little.

Of course, one of the lunch ladies had put a piece of cake aside just for the Lord and Savior of Hawkins High. Billy should have known.

“Do you want it?”

Billy blinked at Steve, answering a second too late to appear unsurprised by the question.

“Ugh… no, thank you.”

Had Steve really… offered to give him his dessert? Had he really been nice to Billy? Or had Billy just hallucinated the entire thing?

“You sure? I honestly wouldn’t mind…” Steve said, looking at his plate rather than at Billy.

He was just saying that to be polite, obviously. Billy wasn’t going to take his dessert away from him. It would only make Steve dislike him more.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Steve looked up from his plate and offered a small forced smile, before focusing on his food once again.

Things were already back to normal (ie. Steve not talking to him), then.

Heather and Robin arrived barely a minute later, saving them from the awkward silence that had taken place after their thirty-second conversation (if it could even be called that).

As soon as he had finished eating, Steve announced:

“I’ve gotta scoot. I have to prepare some stuff before my next class.”

He had already got up from his chair when he reached the end of his sentence.  

“You still on for tomorrow?” Robin asked.

“Sure thing. See you then!”

Steve took his tray and walked toward the exit in quick strides.

“What’s tomorrow?” Billy asked.

“We’re going to Benny’s coffee shop to grade some papers. You can come if you want.”

Billy had just played himself, hadn’t he? He had asked out of curiosity. He hadn’t been expecting to be invited along to whatever Robin and Steve had planned.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude”, was Billy’s last ditched effort to avoid what was sure to be an extremely awkward afternoon.

He could have come up with some fake excuse, but he was uncomfortable with the idea of lying to Robin. Because she’d been nice to him so far, and also because he was almost certain she would see right through him. She was far too observant for Billy’s good.

“Nonsense, you wouldn’t be intruding.” Robin rolled her eyes.

“Uh… okay, then. Thanks.”

Billy was about to eat his vanilla pudding, aka his sad non-chocolate cake dessert, when Max came up to their table and awkwardly said “hello” to Heather and Robin.

“Something you want?” Billy questioned, because she was obviously there to ask him something but wouldn’t spit it out.

“I’m going to Art club this afternoon. It ends at six… Will you come get me?”

Billy arched an eyebrow.

“We have an Art club?”

Also, since when was Max into art?

“Yeah… well actually today’s the first session… whatever. Will you drive me back home or not?”

“Can’t you skate?”

Now Billy was just being an asshole. Max had been skating to and from school most days since, according to her, it was “uncool” to be seen hanging with a teacher… which was stupid because 1. Billy was her brother, and 2. There was nothing uncool about him.

“I… ugh… well. I broke my skateboard.”

Max bit her lower lip.

Billy sighed.

“Again?”

“Yeah… sorry.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll drive you home.” Billy conceded, making a quick mental note to go buy Max a new skateboard. For the third time this year.

“Thanks. Later.”

She was gone as quickly as she had come, leaving Billy to deal with Robin and Heather’s puzzled faces.

“What was that?” Heather asked.

“Maxine Mayfield…?” Billy said, hoping to avoid this particular conversation.

The universe didn’t want him to avoid things that day, though.

“I know that, dumbass. You know each other?”

“Yeah, she’s my sister.”

“What?! How come we didn’t know that?”

“We don’t have the same name, whatever. It’s not that big a deal.” Billy mumbled.

“Yeah… but still… you could have told us.”

“Here honey, have some cake, it’s delicious.” Robin said, extending her fork to Heather.

Billy was thankful for the distraction. But he mainly focused on the cake, that he had only now taken notice of.

“Did Maria save that for you?” He asked.

Robin frowned.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Never mind.” Billy said.

-

Billy chose to stay at school after his last class and to wait in the teachers’ lounge until Art club was over and Max was ready to go home. He would have used the time to grade some papers, but he was supposed to do that tomorrow afternoon with Robin… and Steve. So he spent the hour and a half reading, instead.

He went to the classroom, which Max had given him the number of by text, five minutes before the session was supposed to end. He waited at least fifteen minutes before the first student left the room, greeting Billy on the way out.

Max came out last, along with El, the headmaster’s adopted daughter. She was one of Billy’s students. She had some troubles in English because, from what he had been told, she had only started learning the language recently. She was pretty quiet, maybe because of that exact reason, but she seemed like a very sweet girl. It would be good for Max to hang out with her. Billy didn’t dare ask because he didn’t want to put Max on the spot or make her feel bad, but he feared she had yet to make friends at school.

Billy’s thoughts were interrupted when none other than Steve Harrington emerged from the classroom right after the girls. Well, that explained the ten minutes Billy had had to wait.

Steve had paints all over his hands, and some on his shirt. There was even a little blue spot on his cheek. He looked painfully cute. Billy didn’t like it one bit.

“Billy?” Steve asked, sounding as shocked as Billy felt. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to pick my sister up.” He said, gesturing to Max. “You run the Art club?”

Billy didn’t mean to sound this disbelieving, but he was having a hard time reconciling Math teacher and art enthusiast. Was that judgmental? Was Billy a hypocrite?

“We don’t have a real art teacher so… uh… for lack of a better option, I’m taking care of it for the time being.”

“You’re great at it, Steve.” El said with a beaming smile.

Did all his students call him Steve or was it only the headmaster’s daughter? Billy was intrigued.

“Oh thanks, El. You’re too nice.”  

Billy almost said: “that’s the pot calling the kettle black”, but he thankfully kept his mouth shut.

Steve locked the classroom door and then turned back to them.  

“Well, girls, Billy, have a good weekend. See you on Monday.”

“Actually, you’ll be seeing me tomorrow.”

What had happened to Billy’s mouth staying shut?

“Oh… you’re coming? That’s… that’s great.” Steve stammered.

He smiled, but it was too late: Billy had seen the disappointment in his eyes.

“Yeah… great. Have a good evening, Steve.” He sounded cold, as he said it.

“Y-you too.”

Yes… The coffee date was going to go swimmingly.

[trustsalvatorewriting]

wasteland, baby! | kol mikaelson - chapter twelve

Summary: Kol makes a deal with the Hollow to revive the first woman he ever loved. Unfortunately, it doesn’t go as planned.

Trust’s Note: Please like and reblog! I hope you enjoy.

Word Count: 2,288

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

❝ what does one do with life when one expected to be dead ❞

"HOW DOES IT FEEL? To be alive, after all these years." Kol asked, eyes barely meeting Aniya's as they sat on a park bench. They had agreed to spend the day watching for strangers, any person that wouldn't mind having a sprinkle of amnesia in their lives. After a while the silence had gone deafening, and Kol decided to speak.

    Aniya looked back at him, somewhat shocked that he had bothered to ask about her condition. She shifted in her seat. "Truth be told, I do not know what to do with the life I hold in my hands. It's as if someone has handed me the moon."

    "Didn't you ask for this? To be immortal?"

    "No. My father did." She said, looking down at her hands. She and Vihaan had questioned his beliefs once, and only once. It was the day that their father held their hands over a fire, and asked who would save them if not the gods. "And what of you? How did Esther create the spell that turned you into vampires?"

    "She didn't create it. She found it, after Henrik was attacked by the wolves one night." He'd said it so casually, it might have gone over the average person's head; but Aniya had known him all his life. "Mother dearest murdered my ability to practice magic that night. About a decade ago, she stuck me in the body of a witch, but I was promptly killed by Finn shortly thereafter. Such a shame. The body was quite handsome."

    He paused, then added, "Of course, not quite as handsome as me. But it did do the job."

    She lifted an eyebrow slightly. "You would give your immortality to be a witch again?"

    "You may have given your life for immortality, but I never wanted this. I was perfectly fine dying at the fine age of thirty years old," He sent her a smirk, and she rolled her eyes. She turned her attention back to the humans walking in front of them. Across the street, an old man and his wife, wrinkly and discolored, hair the color of salt and pepper.

    "It is a wonder how humans learned to live so long. Perhaps my father wouldn't have forced us to into those rituals if he knew humans could become so... weathered."

    Kol laughed then, and Aniya found herself smiling at the newspaper Kol had set down on their laps. After a moment, he asked, "You truly can't read?"

    "I've learned a bit," She admitted. Henry had helped her, using a few pictures books he'd created and never published. Elijah had repeatedly offered her private tutors, but the situation had never been ideal. Even compelled humans would ask questions eventually, and there was something discomforting about allowing a stranger to see her weaknesses. She'd been a gifted witch once, a prodigy; and she had lost to something as simple as American tongue. "I do miss runes though."

    "You'd be the only one," Kol responded. She narrowed his eyes at him in annoyance, and he simply shot her a smile. He turned his attention to the humans. "So, we've sat here long enough. Who will we put out of their misery and erase twenty years worth of memories?"

    "How about one of the weathered ones?" She suggested. "They've been alive quite long. Surely they won't miss a decade or two."

    Aniya had given eighteen years of her life to a set of rituals. Given her life for the sake of her parents. A few memories in exchange for a taste of her old life -- it was a small price to pay. Regardless, humans were never meant to live so long. They were in pain now, surely. Growing weak and inching closer to Death with each passing moment. To walk the streets and see the youth, see all they had lost.

    Perhaps she would be putting them out of their misery. Granting them the ability to forget all they would never have again.

    She stood from the bench and made her way towards an elderly man only a few feet away. Kol leaned back and watched the girl smile brightly, encapsulating the man in a short conversation about passing birds.

    "I can't remember the last time I'd seen a creature so beautiful." She knelt down, though the bird hopped a few steps away. Her brown eyes dimmed for a moment, and Kol felt a heavy weight on his chest as he watched the little bird move away from her. As if it were repulsed.

    "Yes," the old man nodded in agreement. His voice was aged, in a way that even Kol found himself pitying him. "Your generation is so glued to those phones. Rarely even feed the birds anymore."

    "My generation," Aniya squinted her eyes. She was very much his elder, and Henry had tried to show her how to use a phone only a few days ago. Unfortunately, the very concept had gone over her head. "Yes. I agree. My brother, though, he used to care dearly for these creatures. Often found him climbing trees and feeding them leftover scraps."

    She spoke fondly of her brother. It was hard not to. No one had a heart quite as big as his. No one dared to. The world was never made for one as beautiful as him, and yet there she stood, desperate to gain her strength and revive him.

    "What was his name?"

    Aniya hesitated. Her mother had always said names carried power. "Victor. My name is Annie."

    "It suits you," He commented. The man's blue eyes sparkled with kindness, and she felt her stomach drop. "I hope he takes care of you."

    "You needn't worry. My brother was quite the protector," She shrugged off his comment, eyes quickly shifting to the street in front of her. She pushed herself off the ground and focused her eyes on a nearby lamppost. "And what of you? Do you have family? People that care for you?"

    "My wife, Betty. She cared dearly for me," The old man chuckled. He pulled out a small leather rectangle, and Aniya lifted an eyebrow at the gesture. Carefully, he unfolded it and revealed a black and white photo of a young couple. A blonde woman with molded curls and a young man beside him, in a perfectly tailored suit.

    The man slipped the photo out and turned it around. At the bottom right corner was a jumble of letters. Aniya leaned forward to see the lettering, and after a few moments, the man said, "Betty and Edwin. Our wedding in the fifties."

    Aniya's faced soured and she looked away, as if she'd just tasted something terrible. From across the street, Kol lifted an eyebrow. She took a breath.  "Where is she now?"

    "Died of long cancer twenty years ago. I miss her everyday." He said, his voice tainted with nostalgia. Aniya bit the inside of her cheek, a pit in her chest crawling up her throat. Edwin carefully tucked the photo back into his wallet.

    "And you love her to this day? Your love for her, it never died?"

    "In my experience, love never dies."

    "How do you love someone you're sure you'll never have again? How can you bring yourself to love something so unbearable?" Surely he would give in. Surely he could bring himself to forget her. How much she would give in return for amnesia. In another world, she might've belonged to Henry and Henry alone.

    Edwin shrugged. "I'll see her again. It's only a matter of time."

    It was then that she felt something snap. A switch in her mind, flipped, and exchanged for something much colder. Ice rushed through her veins as she stared at the man, and her mind was made up.

    Kol would one day see his Davina once more. Edwin would see Betty, and the world would continue to spin, as she stood paralyzed and alone. Even Henry would leave her eventually. She had only one insurance, one promise that would never leave her: Vihaan.

    "I truly am sorry." Aniya placed a hand on the man's shoulder and whispered a spell beneath her breath. The man's eyes glazed over, and static ran through her veins. She took a step back and raised an eyebrow, ignoring the sense of euphoria that overwhelmed her. "Raise your left hand."

    He obliged.

    "Drop it. Raise your right hand."

    He obliged. She had control of him.

    "Give me your wallet. Go to Lafayette Cemetary and ask for Keres." The man, stripped of his willpower and sense of self-control, handed her the small leather object and walked away in a daze. Aniya swallowed and shoved the rectangle into her pocket. To her left, she felt a slight breeze, and Kol stood by her side.

    Kol watched the man wander away, a brow lifted as Aniya gulped. "You hesitated."

"I'm ripping away an innocent man's free will because we made the mistake of getting married. My apologies if I'm not all that ecstatic about our situation," Aniya muttered. She huffed, shutting her eyes tightly as she turned on her heel.

"Well, lucky for you, we only need two more. I found a poor bastard in the cemetery last night. I'm sure no one will notice he's gone," Kol announces proudly, hot on Aniya's trail as she walked away from him.

"We shouldn't be preying on the innocent, Kol. Especially not men who are mourning their loved ones!"

Kol huffed and sped in front of her, raising his hands to stop her from crossing him. She sent him a warning look, and he sighed. "This one deserves death. Trust me."

She had been given no reason to trust him. In the weeks since she had come back, not once had Kol given her proof that he was worthy of it. Frankly, he's gone lengths to prove the opposite; but somehow, as she stared into his aged, tired eyes, she found herself wanting to believe him.

And so, she nodded, for once giving into his antics. "All right. I suppose we'll just have to find a few more and send them to Keres. I'm sure it won't be that much trouble."

    Regardless, she couldn't seem to ignore the heaviness of her chest — the guilt she carried, knowing she had just sent a man to be stripped of his free will. Her parents had tried desperately to rip her of these emotions, trained her to see human lives as game pieces. Ones that she would have to dispose of once they no longer suited her. Her father had told her to embrace the electricity that ran through her veins when she practiced dark magic, but what was meant to surge of power had become nothing but a parasite. This power had turned her into nothing but a monster.

    "Kol?"

    "Yes?"

    "What did your siblings and father exchange for immortality?"

    He stopped walking then, his feet glued to the sidewalk. For a moment, his amusement faded, but it was quickly hidden away with a smirk. It occurred to Aniya that she might have hit a nerve. "I'm a vampire, darling. Haven't you caught up on the mythology yet? Watched a few scenes from Twilight? I've heard Robert Pattinson is quite dashing."

    "Well, yes, but I'd like to see the truth. I'm not sure how much of that I'm going to find in pop culture." She crossed her arms over her chest and took a step toward him, looking up at his aged, tired eyes. "Show me."

    "You're a stubborn little thing, aren't you," He murmured. He sighed then, leaning back against a nearby lamppost.  Aniya came closer as he shut his eyes, and black veins crawled from beneath his eyes down to his cheeks. His eyes opened, revealing a pair of blackened irises and red, irritated scieras. Kol bared his teeth, displaying his sharpened fangs. When Aniya didn't flinch, the monstrous features crawled back into hiding, and Kol's curious face remained.

    Then, she smiled, almost satisfied with her discovery.

    "Was there any particular reason you wanted to see that, or were you just exhausted from staring at my gorgeous face for so long?"

    "Is this typically how you flirt with women in the twenty-first century?"

    Kol shrugged then, straightening his back and heading back in the direction of the Abattoir. Jealousy seemed to spike at Aniya's chest, as she walked a few paces behind him. How wonderful it must have been to be loved by something that hates all else. To be loved by what was perceived to be a monster.

   She pulled the wallet out of her pocket, running her fingers over the faded photograph. She wondered to herself what might have happened if the Hollow has awoken Vihaan, as opposed to her. He might have been stronger. More willing to sacrifice the lives of several humans in exchange for the life he once had; but then, she wondered if he would have been more willing to give up on a marriage that had so clearly died. He would have been willing to sacrifice it all to ensure that she was back on Earth.

    "I'd like to have this mission finished by the end of the night," Aniya revealed, her fingers tugging at the ring around her neck. "We'll find the nearest elderly person, and send them to the cemetery. You'll have your memories returned by midnight, and I'll have the evening to myself."

    "You're going to see your human."

    "Is that so bad?"

    He hesitated. "I suppose not."

[brooklynboysficrecs]

Ria’s Top 10 Shrunkyclunks Fic Recs

Okay, let me preface this by saying: I could name about thirty fics and still not be able to tell you, definitively, what my favorites actually are. The top spots change kinda frequently, depending on what I’m in the mood for, and there are always new fics to consider. But these ten are some of the best I’ve personally read, ones I’ve re-read multiple times, even, and I really value whether or not I can see myself re-reading something (published books or fics) when I’m considering how much I actually liked it. Also, I went with lengthier fics that were finished, because otherwise it’d be a completely different list. Anyway, without further ado...

1. The Voyager by notlucy. God, I’ve read this at least three times and I’m definitely going to be reading it again in the future. notlucy is a fantastic writer in general, but this particular fic from them checks a lot of my boxes. I’m not especially into age differences in ships, but I liked the dynamic between Steve (who’s around... six, seven years older than Bucky, I think?) and Bucky here, and it’s made even more interesting because for the majority of the fic, Bucky has no clue who Steve is. There’s a long road trip, Bucky as a burgeoning writer, and Steve coming to grips with his sexuality as well as his place in the 21st century, as this story takes place pretty much right after he comes out of the ice. There’s also art! Which is always great, imo.

2. The Honey Honey series by justanotherStonyfan. This definitely has one of the most unique takes I’ve seen on a Cap!Steve/Modern!Bucky fic I’ve ever seen. It also features a pretty big age difference (Steve is 40, Bucky is 20/21), so if that’s not your thing, sorry. But it’s a long, long, long series, with multiple installments, that tells the story of Stark Industries employee James (who doesn’t go by Bucky because of reasons) and Commander Steve Rogers (who passed on the Captain America mantle to Sam a while ago). Not only has Steve been in the 21st century for almost two decades by the time he meets James, he’s also had a few colorful relationships prior to the start of the story that influence his current relationship with James and who he is as a person. I don’t want to spoil anything, but they’re all mentioned in the tags I think, so. I’m probably safe to say that uh. Steve still grew up with a Bucky Barnes, just not the one we see in the story. 

3. All of Your Love is Sunlight by canistakahari, WarlockInTraining. I can’t express just how cute this story is -- or I can, but I doubt I’d do it justice. Magic Bucky and his flower shop stole my heart the first time I read this, and honestly, I was as giddy as Steve pretty much the whole time. Steve’s kind of a disaster too and it’s frankly adorable. The whole story is adorable. All comfort no hurt, which is right up my alley. Also, come for the cute boys in love, stay for the butt plants. Just saying.

4. sleeping lessons by glim. This is such a good fic, oh my god. Steve’s auditing a college course to try and catch up on history (instead of like being bombarded by not-so-well-meaning SHIELD agents) and Bucky’s the professor, and he’s just. So sweet with Steve. So intuitively kind. I actually reread this one recently because I was on a shrunkyclunks kick and I remembered why I liked it so much, and even why I tend to like this trope/AU as much as I do — because it gives Steve a foothold in the new century, a friend who treats him as Steve and not Captain America, a civilian he feels safe and comfortable around. It’s a way to introduce Steve to the rest of the world through someone he didn’t meet as an Avenger or through SHIELD, which I think a lot of people agree is something he was sorely missing in the actual movies. I don’t know, this fic is great, give it a try!

5. Matchmaking by Nori. OH WOW. Let me just say, the premise of this fic is absolute precious. It’s like. The closest thing I can equate it to is a wrong number AU? Bucky is a gamer and Steve and Sam are on his team for something, and Steve — the dork — uses the in-game chat to respond to Bucky and it’s just. Fantastic and hilarious and so damn cute. Their friendship develops through playing games together and then Bucky gets a crush and... well. Love happens, like in every other fic I’ve read. But really, this is one of my favorites period, and another one I’ve re-read a number of times. It’s so so good.

6. the cold never bothered me anyway by icoulddothisallday. Alright so this is one of two soulmate AUs on here because I’m an absolute sucker for the concept of soulmates. Especially when it comes to shipping, because I adore the idea that two people are meant for each other regardless of the universe they’re in, ya know? Which is why I really love it for modern Bucky and Cap!Steve — proves their circumstances could’ve been completely different and they’d still find their way to each other. The lore for soulmates in this fic was interesting, too; I like the whole world-building that went on, and the mirroring concept they introduced. Bucky kinda got the raw end of the deal with his mirroring, considering Steve was stuck in the ice, but... as always, love conquers all, and Steve makes sure Bucky is never cold again so it’s all good!

7. Where All Roads Lead by alby_mangroves, DrowningByDegrees. Ooooh this was a fun one. There’s time-travel involved!! I love time travel (when it’s done well — looking at you, Endgame) and I really love when you randomly get a person from the past popping up in the present/future, which is exactly what happens here with Steve. Instead of surviving 70 years in the ice, an artifact sends him to the future where he meets Bucky, who’s something of an expert on Captain America. What follows is they’re attempts to get Steve back to the past and to the team he left behind, all while falling for each other along the way. The ending was so good, too; or, I thought so, anyway, but I suppose that’s just something people have to decide for themselves.

8. This Feeling We Carry In Our Souls by jinlinli. The other soulmate AU! In this one, it’s soul marks that people share; whoever has your mark is your soulmate, though technically it doesn’t mean they’re the love of your life. Bucky explains it at some point that sharing a mark can just mean you were meant to meet the person, that there could be a moment that changes your life and they’re a part of it. Obviously the soulmate connection here is of the romantic variety, which is good for Bucky — eventually. He has to deal with people faking his soul mark to try and get to Steve, and the fact that he lost the arm that had his soul mark on it... happy endings guaranteed though! I don’t read things without happy endings, because I don’t really see the point of them? But yeah, trust me to provide only the happiest of happy endings with my recs, and this one is no exception.

9. Waking Up Slow by odetteandodile. This is another author who I follow kinda religiously. I’ve read most of their stuff and I love all it. This fic is up there, though, because a) it’s my favorite AU and b) it involves Bucky living in an old lighthouse with his daughter. It also features an amnesiac Steve, which was a nice change of pace. Instead of being found on the Valkyrie by SHIELD, Steve thaws our and washes up on Bucky’s beach, and with nowhere to go and no one to call, he ends up staying with Bucky and his daughter until he can get back on his feet. They make such a great family, and it’s lovely to see their relationship grow even as Steve’s memories start coming back. Highly recommend this one!!

10. The Roommate by Niitza, layersofsilence. Okay, this is number 10 but by no means is it my least favorite of the bunch. This one features Steve trying to carve out a life for himself and give someone else a break by looking for a roommate for his place in DC. SHIELD (thought Natasha) tries to get him to give up on the idea, of course, but in true Steve Rogers fashion he goes through with it anyway and even picks one of Natasha’s “reject” candidates — one recently discharged James Buchanan Barnes. They prove to be good for each other, with Bucky proving more than capable of protecting Steve’s privacy and helping him integrate into this new century, and Steve helping Bucky find his footing now that he’s back in the States and in need of a friendly face who he can trust. The best (and worst, good lord) part of this fic is how long it takes the rest of the Avengers to figure out Steve and Bucky aren’t just roommates. You’ll be groaning at some of their assumptions, i swear, it’s both hilarious and painful to read them misunderstand the situation to the degree some of them do.

[mirahuyooo]

Set The Night Alight | pjm

Set The Night Alight

— Shining through the city with a little funk and soul, Park Jimin sets your night alight.

Word Count: 2,159 Contents: flUFF, a pinch of AnGST, having fun, y/n be stressin’ but still hustlin’, jimin be sweet af uwu, mention of Hobi, Yoongs, n Kookie, non-idol au, best friends to lovers! au Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

A/N: I planned on posting earlier but uhm... I didn’t eheh This one is heavily inspired by Dynamite! My sister got a great screenshot of Jimin so I made used it for an edit and write this little blurb skskksksks Hope you enjoyed!

[masterlist]

A grimace resurfaced on your face for the umpteenth time as you swerve away from yet another couple eating each other’s face before your very eyes. A frustrated huff left your lips at the inconvenience adding to the ever-growing misfortune you’ve had for the night. Just to your left earlier you had witnessed a crummy-looking drunk getting slapped by a woman for grinding on another girl.

You fled to a less distasteful area of the club, all by your lonesome. This has got to be the worst night out you’ve ever been to—and at the worst day of your life to date, too!

After waking up with nerves raging over test results in anticipation, you forced yourself to be ignorant of the looming sense of disaster you’ve felt since the night before. You wanted to start the day with a positive mental attitude—try to, at the very least. However, you were further tested.

When you arrived late to class after missing the bus, the professor looked at you with a disappointed stare that could rival that of your overbearing parents’. It was then announced to the class the news that you’ve been waiting for since you woke up. As it had turned out, you did fail the test. You didn’t cry, of course—even though part of you wanted to—but it definitely took a toll on you.  

For the rest of the day, anyone who would’ve laid eyes on you could sense the despair lingering in your aura. Your body sagged at the figurative weight you carried on you, as though you were Atlas holding the world on your very back. Your (e/c) eyes blinked as slowly as you responded to the world around you—your mind stuck in a haze that dipped your heart into more emotional baggage.  

Work came after class, as you, of course, had to support yourself for the goals and dreams you had in life. Alas, even the haven you found in the small diner was short-lived. Your ex-boyfriend enters the premises with his monthly new plaything, effectively souring your mood even more. Being the bastard that he is, he reveled at the contrast of your lives and though you didn’t bother to care about aspects, his general presence still irked you.  

“I thought I told you to get rid of that frown, hm?”

Pulled out of your stupor, you lightly jumped with a gasp as you were rendered startled and alarmed by the unannounced presence, until you realized that it was only Park Jimin—resident wild child, fellow diner worker, and best friend of six years. He had the audacity to giggle at your despair, while you recover from the slight scare with a hint of relief.

Your eyebrows furrowed with yet another frown. "I thought I told not to sneak up on me like that, hm?" You snippily countered, landing a smack on his arm to which he let out a yelp at.  

Still, Jimin grins brightly, a little woozy and clearly enjoying himself—a stark contrast to your still sober and still fuming state. He had two glasses of soju with him, setting them down before the two of you and leaning against the tall table on his elbows. "Come on, (Y/N). The night is young. We're young," he urges you, "You should really learn to loosen up."

If you had a dollar for every single time he's told you this phrase, you would have enough money to not be such a sour puss. It's not like you didn't have conception of fun. You, too, can be wild, go party, and dance the night away—albeit not as stunningly as your best friend—but with the fire in you that you're desperately trying to keep alive to spite the world, you found it difficult to easily do so.

Agitated, you ran your hands through the (h/c) hair that you've barely even brushed throughout the day. "A man almost vomited on me while I was out there," you cursed, not really at him, but it still stung nonetheless. You bring the bottle to your lips, wincing a bit at the taste but still gulping. Jimin does the same.

After a moment, you break the silence, fiddling with your fingers. You knew the irritable state you were in wasn’t easy on Jimin—or anyone else really. "I'm sorry, Chim," you sigh, "but you know I really can't be in the mood right now. We should’ve stuck with binging night."

Something about standing in the local pub right now made you feel out of place. Though you know you shouldn't be, you were irking to get going and do something else—something productive. Not that you would’ve been that productive with binging night, but at the very least you would’ve caught up on your current favorite series. Then, you would’ve had more time to do actual fruitful activities.  

You paused for a moment, frowning at your own way of thinking.

For the majority of your life, all you did was hustle. You were uptight, determined with proving yourself and the rest of those who've wronged you that you could be the thriving woman of your dreams, living the life goals you're working ends meat to achieve. The fire in you longed to see the people who abandoned you on their knees, kissing your feet at your success. And so, you move on after moping a little—this day will be yet another testament to such a fighting spirit.

At times you applauded your resilience. You were proud of the things you've managed to move yourself on from. Alas, this meant that you often starve yourself of care and leisure. Jimin knows this brilliant yet damning mindset of yours and constantly tries to ease you into the carefree lands of self-love.

When Jimin had offered you this night out after your shifts, you instantly rejected the offer, like you almost always do. He didn't like the way you held back on having fun, because you thought your mother would find out and her accusations of you going astray in life would spark into yet another rant of you wAsTinG yoUr PotEntiAL.

He does convince you somehow, thus this current situation. You were, however, beginning to regret going out instead of your tradition of breaking down in the confines of your apartment before switching yourself into an auto pilot mode where you work on projects and whatnot for God knows how long.

Your best friend, however, would never want you to feel such a way, especially if he could do something about it. He clapped his hands together. "Come on then," Jimin encourages, catching you off guard as he secured a hold on you by lacing your fingers together.

"What?"

The man before you downs a few swigs of the alcohol and smiles, eyes disappearing into crescents. "Let's go somewhere else," he tells you, matter-of-factly. "The night is young. There are lots of things to do."

You gawked at the sight before you as Jimin danced to the beat, his body moving effortlessly with the street dancer. Instinctively, you, yourself, were swaying to the beat. The crowd that had gathered around you had done the same.

Exiting the club, as it turned out, had been a notable move from the both of you, drastically mending your mood as your night was suddenly set alight by the bustling streets you wandered with your favorite person in the world. This predicament, however, landed before the two of you when you saw a performance going on. Jimin knew the performer—Hoseok, if you recalled correctly—and, in spite of not preparing beforehand, began dancing along to the music. He was doing brilliantly for someone who, about thirty minutes ago, was giggly from slight intoxication.

As the beat came to a drop and Jimin flips his body like it was nothing, cheers erupted from around you. Vigorously clapping along with the crowd, you couldn't care less if your cheeks were starting to hurt.

"Great work!" You beam at your best friend as he shyly walks back towards you with yet another charming grin that wills his eyes to close. "You've improved so much," you say, eliciting a blush from him. Both of you have aching cheeks now, but that didn't matter.

As the crowd began to disperse and he waved goodbye to his friend, Jimin offers an arm to you. “Let’s go?” he muses, still slightly out of breath.

“Go where?” you asked, but linking your arms together anyways.

Jimin says nothing, seemingly pleased with his plans. Butterflies ran amok within you, as his smile promises you more of these spontaneous adventures.  

As the night bled into later hours, the both of you sat in the very diner that you two worked at only hours earlier. Jungkook, who had gotten night shift this day, disappeared into the kitchen after getting your orders.

Feeling better than ever before, you allowed yourself to savor the serenity. Your hands drummed to the beat of the music flowing from the jukebox resting on one corner of the diner with your head swaying along too. Jimin, in front of you, was also lightly dancing in his seat.

Eventually, Jimin stands up to his feet, dancing as he reached out a hand. He comically wiggled his brows, inviting you to dance with him—and you let him.

There were no other customers in the diner, and Yoongi, who had manned the cashier, didn’t really care to be bothered about the shenanigans the two of you were up to. You let out a giggle as Jimin twirls you around.  

At this time, you took it to yourself to look at your best friend. As he often does, he had styled his brown hair back to expose his forehead, causing him to look attractive enough to fool anyone into thinking he's a reckless party animal when reality states that he's a soft gentleman at heart—and you support such a statement.

Park Jimin, with his massive golden heart, has stuck by your side far longer than anyone else in your life. In all of the years you’ve known him, he’s always been one to drop anything to help you with your plights. A sensation fluttered within you, rendering you frozen for a moment as you were confused by said feeling. Jimin, however, continues to goofily dance around you without a care in the world and elicits a snicker from you.

There was a whimsical sense in the air. Dynamite’s retro décor really had the ability to make you feel as though you had travelled back a few decades earlier. With Jimin’s own choice of outfit, the nostalgic effect multiplied tenfold. Could the butterflies in your belly be from the atmosphere of the moment?

“You look beautiful when you’re happy, y’know?”

Jimin’s words knock the air out of your lungs, sending you crashing back to reality. Before you, your best friend stood only a few inches away from your dancing dooming you into such a close position. Your heart once again picks up the pace.

You managed to let out a scoff but fail to counter his statement any further and simply shyly averted your gaze, leaning away to give the two of you some distance. To your shock, Jimin’s hands clutched yours in his hold, his eyes shining like diamonds as he stared into you.

“Chim—”

With the words you planned to say being stolen from you by the lips that captured yours, you couldn’t help but melt. As if on cue, the music’s beat picked up, encouraging your heartbeat to do the same. The emotions within you whirled wildly, setting your body on fire as Jimin pulls you closer. As you had felt his hold loosen, you took the chance to slide your hands up his shoulders and wrapped your arms around his neck, letting yourself get lost into a kiss you never thought to anticipate so much.

Eventually, the two of you pulled away for air, with Jimin grinning like the love-struck fool he was, while you were still in a haze from the kiss. You felt lips on your forehead as he soon pulled you in an embrace.

“(Y/N)?”

Your heart squealed at his voice, prompting you to hug him back tighter. “Hm?”

“I like you.”

With your head buried into his neck, your eyes fluttered to a close as his words bloom an ease in your heart—as if you had reached home after a long exhausting journey. There still existed a sense of surprise in you. You never expected to feel this way towards your best friend.  

Jimin, in spite of his worries from your silence, proceeds to murmur into your hair. “I want you to be happy,” he tells you, “I’d be happy if you let me be the one to make you smile.”

You pull away with a soft smile, eyes glistening with tears.

“You already are.”

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

The Goonies: Facets of Filmmaking

From the get go, The Goonies seemed destined for success.

Everything seemed perfectly in place: director Richard Donner (of Superman and The Omen fame) producer Stephen Spielberg (director of Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, E.T. the Extra Terrestrial, and the Indiana Jones films), screenwriter Chris Columbus, (also worked on Gremlins) and Spielberg’s production company Amblin Entertainment.  With all of these talented people, a great script, and a production studio that had a decent record under its belt already, The Goonies was a surefire win.

And a win it was.

But it didn’t come without its challenges.

The film The Goonies was originally conceived by Stephen Spielberg as the basic idea of: “What would bored kids get up to on a rainy day?”  After pitching the idea to screenwriter Chris Columbus (who had wrote the script to the film Gremlins, which Spielberg had also produced), the script was written with the obvious conclusion: search for pirate treasure, of course.  It was a traditionally Spielbergian ‘high concept’ movie, for sure, but oddly enough, The Goon Kids, as it was then called, didn’t end up a Spielberg film after all.  

After a string of successes already beginning throughout the ‘80s, with E.T. the Extra Terrestrial, the Indiana Jones films, and The Color Purple, on top of being the producer for many other films, Spielberg, originally the director for the project, passed off the reins to established director Richard Donner instead.

None were more surprised than Donner himself.

“My first thoughts were, ‘why me?’  Because it was Steven Spielberg who made the best movies for kids and for dreaming in the world. So, why are you giving this to me?  He said because he was busy doing something else and he thought I was as big a kid as he was and he gave it to me.”

In a way, it made perfect sense: Donner was already used to big-budget films with huge setpieces and soundstages.  On the other hand, he wasn’t terribly experienced with working with children.

Thankfully, instead of leaving him with the project on his own, Spielberg stayed on as producer, even directing a few scenes in the final film.  The pair worked together fairly closely, with their combined talents having a marked influence on the film from their blended styles.  However, despite this seemingly ‘dream team’ combination of directors working on the combination of Spielberg’s idea and Chris Columbus’s script, there were still plenty of challenges throughout production, some of them where the cast was concerned.

By necessity, production had to begin by breaking the well known rule: “Never work with animals or children.”  Already a successful director, Donner found himself challenged by the unique experience of trying to wrangle the young cast to focus on the movie that had to be made.

The main cast was almost entirely newcomers: Kerri Green and Josh Brolin were making their onscreen debuts with The Goonies, and the others weren’t much more experienced.  Sean Astin, although coming from a Hollywood background, was relatively new to acting at the time, as were Jeff Cohen and Martha Plimpton.  Ke Huy Quan, having just previously starred in Spielberg’s Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, had relatively little experience as well, with Corey Feldman having the biggest portfolio of the young cast, having previously appeared in Gremlins, as well as multiple commercials and television episodes.

The inexperience, as well as the youth, showed throughout production, with Donner worn thin by the antics of a high-energy cast of children.

“The annoying thing was the lack of discipline, and that was also what was great because it meant that they weren’t professionals. What came out of them was instinct and that was beautiful. But because it was instinct they didn’t have the discipline of a professional actor, a trained actor who knew that on that line or that move they were going to scratch themselves or drink a Coke or eat a slice of pizza, so every time you would make cuts to match, they were all over the place. Never on the same marks. But the reason they weren’t is because they were functioning on their instincts, and their instincts at that moment told them to go there and not there. I just had to figure my way around it, but it drove me nuts.”

The other members of the cast included Anne Ramsey as Mama Fratelli, and Joe Pantoliano and Robert Davi as Francis and Jake Fratelli, and, most memorably, NFL defensive end John Matuszak as Sloth, underneath several hours worth of makeup and prosthetics.

There was more to the assembly of The Goonies than just the cast, however.

The Goonies came at a time before CGI was widely implemented in special effects films: meaning that the effects on screen were shot with real sets and props.  While most of the shots hold up (once they deleted the octopus sequence), there is one prop, one set, that far outshines every other (admittedly impressive) effect in the film:

One-Eyed Willy’s pirate ship.

The famous pirate ship that is the main set piece for the climax of the film was constructed on the Warner Brothers lot, on soundstage 16, the only stage big enough for not only the ship, but the cave and 2.3 million gallons of water that the ship was sitting in.  The ship took approximately six months to build, and the surrounding cave waas no less a chore to create, with plaster rocks reaching up to the top of the soundstage.  

All the hard work paid off, evidenced by both the reactions of fans everywhere and the reactions of the kids themselves when they first laid eyes on the ship (Donner wanted to capture the expressions on the first take, and the kids were not permitted to see the ship beforehand.  The take used in the film is the second take.).  Unfortunately, once shooting wrapped, the pirate ship was destroyed when no one would take it, and one of Hollywood’s most iconic sets and props was lost forever.

For the most part, besides the usual hiccups present in filmmaking, the production of The Goonies went off fairly smoothly, and after five months of shooting (followed by more months of dubbing), The Goonies wrapped.  On June 7th, it was released in theaters, becoming one of the top ten highest grossing films of the year.

As time went by, The Goonies truly proved to never say die, with more generations of fans being added to it’s already impressive roster.  There have been documentaries, reunions, script readings, and, above all, requests for a sequel in the thirty-five years since it’s original release, with no signs of it’s popularity dropping off.  Currently, The Goonies is fondly remembered as one of the best known and best loved films of the 1980s, full of iconic moments and quotable lines that have continued to live in the public consciousness in the years following its debut.

In short:

The Goonies seemed destined for greatness from the start, and it certainly followed through.  Whether a sequel is ever made or not, no matter what, the original will continue to be loved and treasured for generations to come: as long as audiences remember how, for just a short while, to think like a kid.

It’s almost time to close on our analysis of The Goonies.  Join me next time as we take one last look at this classic film: combining the facts with the feelings for a sum-up.  Stay tuned, and thanks so much for reading!  I hope to see you in the next article.

[wiltcdhearts]

HEY! IS THAT PHOEBE TONKIN OUT IN THE CRYSTAL WATER? NO, THAT’S JUST ARABELLA VALENTINE, A THIRTY YEAR OLD, WITCH WHO HAS BEEN ON THE ISLAND FOR ONE YEAR. WORD AROUND TOWN IS THAT THEY ARE RUMOURED TO BE THE MOTHER OF A HYBRID CHILD, BUT WE’ll NEVER TRULY KNOW. DID THEY CHOOSE THE ISLAND? OR DID THE ISLAND CHOOSE THEM? ONLY TIME WILL TELL. 

TW: Mention of death, abandonment, light mention of gore. 

Arabella Lawerence-Valentine was quite literally born into witchcraft. Distantly related to the founding member of the Valentine coven, there was no question that she would be extremely powerful in the years to come. 

As she grew up, it was clear quite early that the magic she possessed was almost too powerful for her small frame, showing itself when she didn’t want it to. Her parents made the decision to pull her out of general schooling and homeschool her all while trying to teach her how to engage her newly tapped power. It was the last thing they had expected, but, the Valentine’s had prepared for this. 

Cedric Lawerence, a human, hadn’t signed up for the lifestyle that his wife and daughter brought him. When she was six, Arabella came home from school to be only met by her mother. What first became “dad’s going to go stay with grandma and grandpa for a while” became “we’re on our own, kiddo.”

When she got to high school, Arabella began to grow restless. She knew her mother was preparing her to take over the coven, but that was the last thing she wanted. She didn’t know if she was ready for the responsibility, especially after watching her mother handle it with the grace that she did. 

Just days before Arabella’s eighteenth birthday, the unthinkable happened. Arabella awoke to find her mother, one of the most powerful witches alive, dead in her bedroom. Several other important witches and warlocks associated with them had also been taken out under mysterious circumstances. The next morning, Arabella learned that she was the last member of the Valentine coven, somehow left alive. The question of why me is something that has haunted her to this day. 

Arabella spent the next decade in New Orleans, searching for that very answer and isolating herself from the rest of the world. She would have rather died than reach out to her father, so she found means to support herself and made the decision not to go to college after finishing her education at a local public school. 

Instead, Arabella picked up extensive shifts at a popular bar in the area that was frequented by many of the supernatural. She was very well liked by the customers and often asked for.

One night, a customer came in that she had never seen before. He was tall, handsome and seemed like just the amount of wild she could get behind. After her shift ended, the pair sat and talked until closing time. The last thing Arabella expected was for her to have a one night stand, but that’s what happened. When she awoke the next morning, her bed was empty.

This decision proved to be very problematic for her a couple weeks later, when she was staring at a positive pregnancy test with no way to contact the father, a concept that scared her even more. Not only was there a high possibility that he had already skipped town, but he was also a supernatural being. How could she possibly handle a hybrid child alone? All she knew was that she couldn’t do it in New Orleans. The child deserved a fresh start without Arabella’s legacy hanging over her head. 

Two months after arriving on the island, Arabella gave birth to Freya Renee Valentine, Freya being after her late mother. 

She’s been in town ever since, working as a librarian during the day and a bartender at night to support the two of them. 

MISC. INFO

Arabella is bisexual, but with a more extensive history of dating women. Her most recent relationship was with a woman and lasted her the longest, about two years. 

This woman will live and die for her daughter. If anyone tries to come at little Freya in an even remotely malicious way, she’ll make them regret it within seconds. 

She’s also quite shy and struggles to make friends. Part of this is due to her shy nature, the other part being that she’s terrified to lose the people that get close to her, like her mother. Despite this, she’s made a promise to herself that she’d make an effort. 

Shortly after her father left, she legally dropped his last name and now just uses Valentine.

I’ll add more stuff here as other things come up!

[aarongoldenwrites]

My statement:  I am sick to fucking death of people misquoting my holy book to justify their bigotry. Stop. Stop doing it. You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. A response: Honestly I would be interested in learning about this as I have no religious view point so I like to learn about them, (but) I don’t know where to start. My response:  Okay. Well.

Judaism first sprang into existence about six thousand years ago; we've got our own calendar that we use to track these things. We got our start when a dude named Avram wrecked his father's business and changed his name to Abraham while touring the middle-east with his sister, Sarah. Their family history was chronicled in what we call the Old Testament, which is a collection of stories, fables, and legal doctrine that informs the Jewish people as to what they are and how to behave, but a good chunk of it is dedicated to doubting what you think you know and finding out what is true. It's based around taking responsibility for yourself and your community and living to a high ethical standard, and trying to figure out what that means in relationship to yourself and your community. The first five books of the Old Testament are called Torah and are collected in massive scrolls that Jews consider to be literally living documents, and we're supposed to argue the meaning of the text within context to the time it was written and the times we live in. It's fabulously progressive for its time, and features a commentary track (Talmud) and in-depth expansion (Midrash) that we use to give things further context.

A lot of it boils down to "try to leave the world better than you found it, take care of the people around you, don't expect people to live to the standards you set for yourself, take responsibility for yourself and your community."

Now, the Old Testament was written in a language called Aramaic, which features no written vowels, is supposed to be sung on a six-note scale, and translates well into nothing else. It was eventually translated into Greek, then Latin, and then the various romance languages.

Here's where things get weird: when a Torah is penned, it's transcribed by one guy using a special ink and pen. A single mistake means the Torah is given an actual funeral and buried. We do not want mistakes being made about this.

About 2000 years ago, there might have been a Jew named Yeshua. The Romans (who kept meticulous records about EVERYTHING) have no records of this particular guy, but there were Jewish revolutionaries fucking around to find out during the Roman occupation every five minutes or so (it got so bad that the Romans eventually said "fuck these people in particular" and spread the Jews all across the empire, which is the start of what we call the Jewish diaspora and led to about two thousand years of shit-kicking and scapegoating).Now, if Yeshua existed, he was a rabbi (a Jewish priest) who pissed off the Romans and got himself killed. A dude who admits to never having met him led a splinter sect of Jews into a death cult that believed Yeshua was going to return from the dead next week and defeat the Romans. 

This is the start of Christianity.

A big part of faith is doubt, I think. You need to know on some level that you could be wrong, and inflicting your beliefs on others isn't a great thing to do. We're all doing the best we can, but insisting you're right and everyone else is wrong to the detriment of others is, well, bad.

And that brings us to the crux of my issues with Christianity.

The core of the Christian doctrine is that Jesus (a mistranslation of the name Yeshua, not that many Christians know that - and let it sink in that they do not know the name of the god they are worshiping, or how the name changed) was the literal son of God and also somehow God and maybe also a third thing called the Holy Ghost that is a mysterious mixture between the two of them, and that he died for the sins of humanity.

See, Christians believe that when Eve got Adam to eat the apple in Eden that GOD CURSED THEM BOTH AND ALL THEIR DESCENDANTS TO HELL TO SUFFER FOR ALL ETERNITY, and then they have the audacity to say that the Old Testament God is the mean one.

So, basically, until Jesus dies, every human ever born is condemned to hell where, again, they will suffer for all eternity. Once Jesus dies, though, he goes to hell and reclaims good people provided they are willing to swear allegiance to him. Keep in mind there is no proof that any of this has happened, and the person telling the story admits full-stop that he never met Jesus and didn't believe Jesus was real until thirty years after Jesus' death when he was riding a camel through the desert and fell off due to heat exhaustion.

Now, a big part of Christian doctrine is that living a good life is meaningless - the only way to get into heaven is to swear your soul to Jesus, who is watching you at all times. If you're bad and believe in Jesus, you'll spend time in a place called Purgatory, which is hell-light, until Jesus can swing by and pick you up. If you're the best person ever and you don't believe in Jesus, you are still going to hell for all eternity.

What this means is that, if you are a good Christian, the kindest thing you can do is convert non-believers to save them from an ETERNITY IN HELL, and provided you have sworn your soul to Jesus any sin you commit will be forgiven and you will go to heaven. This leads to things like the Spanish Inquisition, enforced conversions against, well, everyone, and more atrocities than you can shake a pointed stick at.

Politically, this is useful because you can't just say you believe in Jesus, you have to believe in Jesus the *right way.* This is originally the Catholic Church, but other people argue with them about the right way to believe in Jesus and so we now have a bunch of different flavors that spout the same ideology and conversion practices, but each of them claim that they're the special ones that got it right and everyone else is going to hell for all eternity or maybe purgatory until they figure out the right way to praise Jesus.

And people can and will do anything to prove their faith, and see a lack of evidence as proof of concept, and obey whatever the it leaders tell them because they've been conditioned to ignore the world around them in favor of our mistranslated holy book.

The thing is, according to Christian theology, Jesus was a Jew and the whole thing starts with the Old Testament. So they twist the Old Testament to fit their narrative, building upon things lacking in the original text, installing bits that go against Jewish faith, and ignoring/killing/converting Jews that point out that they have no business doing what they're doing (see Jenn Sara, above, for the lightest version of this practice).Because spreading the good word is so important and any sin can be forgiven provided you're following Jesus in the right way, Christians have historically co-opted the holidays and religious practices of others in order to further their own agenda (see: Christmas trees, the Easter bunny, et al). Also, because they are a strict hierarchy - the Church determines who is praising Jesus right and no one can fight them - they ended up becoming a politically powerful presence that has controlled much of Europe and Russia and informed the structures that ruled those places, including (but not limited to): the Romani pogroms, the Inquisition, the witch trials, the crusades, the Russian pogroms, the Atlantic slave industry, native genocide, save-the-man-kill-the-indian, the holocaust...The list goes on.

When people in the west say "Religion is the root of all evil," they are often talking about their own experiences with religion (Christianity, because none of the other ones count). This also applies to Christian atheism, which is when a Christian assumes all religion is basically Christianity decides they don't believe in religion, and the religion they don't believe in is the only religion (Christianity again).It's incredibly frustrating and tends to result in a lot of people dying.

Shall I continue?

[ourrightside]

10 Reasons Why Carrie Bradshaw Wasn’t THAT Bad...

Sex and the City is the most elite series I’ve ever watched - and I was so excited to purchase the first season when I turned 18.

I would listen to my mom and my sister gossip about the show when I was younger and feel so left out. But, my mom would refuse to let me watch it until I became an adult. Thank god.

Being an avid fan now, I sometimes scan through Sex and the City articles on the net, and can’t help but notice dozens of articles filled with ‘Carrie’ slander - which kind of makes me nervous.

Although it was true that years ago girls were labeling themselves as the ‘Carrie’, ‘Samantha’ and ‘Charlotte’ of the group - the serious and less glamorous friend got stuck with being a ‘Miranda’; it is kind of an insult now to be deemed as a Carrie. 

As we all matured, we realized that being a Miranda is amazing and we should all strive to be just as successful - but Carrie Bradshaw is still a valid character and I’m here to prove why the “sexual anthropologist” is not all that bad. 

Now before I dive into why I totally get Carrie Bradshaw, I would just like to point out before hand that I am aware that she is just a fictional character and hopefully you are too. If you are not informed, then I apologize for this harsh revelation. However, let’s continue. 

1. She was average looking

While we can all agree that her physique only gets stronger and leaner throughout the series, she was still not exactly perfect looking. Despite her fit body, she was not model like or necessarily tall. She did not have a perfect nose. She did not have the biggest ‘lady parts’. She did not have the plumiest lips. She did not have perfect facial symmetry.

But, she was okay with it. And has mentioned that by the age of 30, she was over being uncomfortable with her looks and decided to move on.

Despite constantly bumping into models and having to accept that men can be total “modelizers” - especially in the capital of the world aka manhattan, she chose to embrace her natural beauty, which in turn has allowed her to walk the runway in her underwear.

2. She was selfish 

Yes, the new trend is to be selfish and say no - because that is ‘self love’.

If that truly is the case, then there was no denying then that Carrie was selfish throughout the series.

As human beings, we are selfish by nature. But since we now identify ourselves in societies with expected norms and values, being selfish disqualifies you sometimes from your environment. To avoid being lonely, we try to let go of being selfish or at least hide our selfish traits.

Unfruitfully so, our selfish instincts at times fail us - exposing our true colors. And whenever that happens, people aren’t too afraid of pointing out what you did wrong. It doesn’t make us necessarily evil, just makes us human.

To avoid being Freudian in this post, let’s just sum up that Carrie is harmlessly selfish at times - that includes being late to every event, asking her friend Susan Sharon if she could trade in her cashmere sweater birthday gift for cash, accepting a pair of 600$ shoes from her other super rich friend, and cutting off Charlotte’s possible infertility problem discussion to talk about her Manolos.

The list goes on, I mean - this is just classic Bradshaw behavior. However, this character cannot be deemed as bad. She was just under the spotlight, and if we were under it too, we would find out that we do have these moments as well without realizing it. We are not perfect. However, Carrie does reflect on her mistakes often, which is something we should be doing more. 

Sometimes, her selfish tendencies can really get out of hand. 

It was not okay when she got angry at Charlotte who did not offer to lend her money after she blew it all off on Manolo Blahnik shoes instead of rent. It was not okay when she threw away Aiden down the drain. It was not okay when she slept with a married man, even if it was ‘Mr. Big’.

We cannot shame her though because we all have hidden skeletons in our closets...it’s up to you however to peak in and see which faults make it or break it for you. 

3. She was a working woman 

No offense to chastity ball princess Charlotte, who wanted to be a housewife to any rich man who crossed path with her, Carrie Bradshaw was by all means an ‘all star’ business woman. Despite being unconventional unlike Samantha Jones (PR executive) and Miranda Hobbes (Harvard-graduate Lawyer), Carrie Bradshaw was a restless woman that worked in multiple fields all at once despite being so undermined.

She had so many tasks to tackle all at once while juggling multiple projects. She ran around between the fields of Journalism, Content Marketing and Public Relations. She was able to get invited into all the ‘fabulous’ events and meetings because of the hard work she invested in all by herself as a freelancer who lived in a huge place like New York. Carrie finally reached her goal at the age of 40, which was working at Vogue. She even wrote multiple books as well.

4. She was unconventional

Despite the show running in the early 90s, Carrie Bradshaw decided to be a sex columnist. She never gave up on her weird unconventional job and was proud of her career despite the looks or comments people would make. She had a weird exterior in addition to how upfront she was about the physical makings of life.

In addition, Carrie did not believe in marriage until she became a fiancée at the age of 40. She traded in a ring for a pair of shoes and a walk-in closet, unlike most women, who would rather get married in their mid 20 to early 30s with a huge rock on their finger. 

5. She was struggling at adulting

Carrie Bradshaw had a deluded concept of adulting that at least most of us had or still struggle with. She was not a healthy adult with financial stability and a well thought out regime. However, she still managed to be fabulous.

She had poor dieting habits, which made her sometimes skip dinner to buy Vogue instead. She believed that shopping and gossiping were the best types of cardio. She was not the cleanest and had a messy apartment at most times. She did not care about the way her living space looked like, which she later on freaked out about in fear of being judged as an imperfect adult according to Mr Big. She paid so much on shoes that she could no longer afford her rent. She believed that investments must be seen in her closet. She drank at least six dollars worth of coffee per day. She would smoke and drink way too much for a thirty year old woman.

6. She was a good friend

Carrie Bradshaw had so many friends that it almost put her PR bestie Samantha to shame. To be honest, Carrie may have not been a perfect friend, but she was as good as it gets realistically.

What made her so realistic in her friendships was her ability to be there for most of her friends’ hardships. She had her ups and downs with her empowered female group because sometimes they would feel like she was too problematic and vice versa. For the most part, it is impossible to be as passionate to your friends as you once were the first time you guys met. But what makes a friend a good one is that they never voluntarily try to find excuses to leave you behind.

Carrie’s love towards her friends in her good and bad times showed that she valued them like family. 

7. She was lost

Carrie was probably more lost than she would have liked to be. She had a tendency to dwell on what should have been and could have been. We all have regrets and sometimes she voiced hers out more than other characters within the show. She would sometimes yearn over the years that passed by her. She even went to extremes such as dating a college boy just to remember what it was like to ‘just kiss’. Rookie Mistake, Carrie.

Just like Carrie, as time goes by at any age, we look back at the spur of events that created our timeline and take note sometimes of which events we deem as either life-changing, traumatizing or both.

8. She was experimental 

She may not have been as promiscuous as her friend Samantha, but she was unarguably adventurous in all aspects of her life. Although the most obvious aspect may have been her outfits, her wild colors and funny textural accessories were just a preview on how eccentric Carrie Bradshaw truly was. She mentioned that her younger years were a genuine pursuit of fun in every shape or form, which most twenty-something-year-olds cannot deny.

She emphasized that she fears living life as a cautious person because of the hurt she has endured. However, she truly defined throughout the show what it means to be eccentric, empowering the ones who fail the experiments of life to get back on their feet. 

9. She was flawed

Carrie Bradshaw believed in the glass half full rather than half empty throughout the series. Despite being unbearably flawed to the point where her friends no longer wanted to listen to her problems, she decided to see a shrink which is something that would have been especially socially-unacceptable in the 90s. Carrie still overcame her mental issues and found other remedies which in turn has led her into accepting the way things played out. 

As we grow up, we, like Carrie, need a little bit of help in order to realize that temporary issues will fade away into lessons and the permanent ones that are out of our control can be accessorized into our lives accordingly to the way that we want it to look like.

10. She was in love

Her love towards Mr Big was illogical - almost completely insane. But what made her character so special was the fact that she never continued her relationship with Aiden because she knew deep down that it was Mr Big all along and never gave up on it; despite all the signs that kept telling her that he was bad for her. He was at the time indeed bad news, which made her feelings towards him fluctuate between love and hate.

Now, the psychology behind her and Mr Big does not justify why you should call your ex right now so put your phone down, but it is something to think about. 

Carrie took the road not taken for most women, especially during the 90s where gender roles in love where still a bit rigid. While it is true that it is always easier to date lovers who make the effort to chase you rather than pursuing it yourself, the easiness does not create the ‘fairytale love’ that most of us strive for.

Carrie once described her love towards him as a crash rather than a crush. But if something deep down is telling you that someone is your person, shouldn’t that account for something? Shouldn’t we all just go for ‘ ridiculous, inconvenient, time-consuming can’t-live-without-each-other love’, and get it right just like she did?

- Nina xx (yasminasayyid)