#UN hiring process

[businessabroad]

The Benefits of Working at the United Nations #1

Embarking on a Career Journey with the United Nations

Have you ever envisioned yourself playing a part in the global narrative, shaping the future and making a tangible difference? The United Nations isn't just an employer; it's a calling for those who dare to dream of a better world.

In our latest video, "The Benefits of Working at the United Nations", we unveil the layers of rewards that a UN career offers. It's where passion meets purpose, where every day is an opportunity to contribute to international peace, security, and prosperity.

At the UN, you're not just gaining a job; you're embracing a diverse and inclusive culture, tapping into unparalleled professional growth, and securing benefits that respect your work-life balance.

If you've been seeking a sign to take the next step, this is it. Watch our video for an enlightening journey through the corridors of the United Nations – your potential future workplace.

Here is the entire course on YouTube.

The Benefits of Working at the United Nations

UN Duty Station: What it is and What you Can Expect

The Process of Getting A Job at the United Nations

How to Apply For A Job At The United Nations

United Nations Levels and Salary - What are they?

Type of Contract at the United Nations

United Nations Steps and Contract Negotiation

United Nations Jobs, Job Role, and Posting Locations

UN Job Opportunities - How to Increase Your Odds

Best Places for Your Family to Live

How are you Competing Against

United Nations Official Languages

This is What the UN's Application Process is Like

How to success your test at the United Nations

Before Passing Your Interview at the United Nations

How to Successfully Interview For a Competency-Based Job

List of Questions used in Competency-Based Interview

What to do After the Interview at the United Nations

#UnitedNationsCareer #GlobalService #BeTheChange

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ povlnfour masterlist

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SMAUS

.jpg (just propose goddamnit)

lando’s childhood sweetheart has long since been the subject of his photography account. fans just can’t wait to see one specific post from the couple in the future

how do you turn this thing off?

fans love when you make appearances in landos streams. it’s usually because he doesn’t know where something is, and the internet goes crazy over their favorite certified himbo. on one stream, you get a taste of your own medicine when lando tasks you with turning the live feed off, and fans get a little more of an insight into your relationship

crash landing

lando accidentally hits a stranger with his car — the internet can’t stop referring to it as a meet cute. (un)fortunately for lando, mclaren agree.

tales of candor

lando’s girlfriend has a secret identity. she’s not quite the girl next door everyone assumed, and he might just be the inspiration for more than just her instagram captions.

everybody talks

lando eventually lands the girl of his dreams. he also finds out just how fast news travels

paddock to paddock (complete)

in which two athletes in different disciplines find a common ground

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ONE SHOTS

overdrive

a practical stranger is determined to change your opinion on cars (and maybe make you fall in love in the process)

end up here

a night out, a long walk home, and a pretty stranger happy to accompany you

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SMAUS

secret love song

an anonymous account starts posting photos found on a private account supposedly belonging to f1 superstar charles leclerc. as the photos start circulating, an unknown face joins the picture that leads to speculation charles has a girlfriend he’s been hiding.

content creation

when ferrari hire a new content creator to help their social media presence, fans start noticing a certain friendship developing between her and their star driver.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ONE SHOTS

coming soon…

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SMAUS

beached!

after oscar saves you from an embarrassing accident on the beach, you accidentally go viral

study break

oscar piastri is a formula 1 driver. y/n is an international relations student. her friends find her relationship pretty hard to believe. especially when she can’t tell them any details for you know… nda reasons.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ OTHER DRIVERS

i currently have no fics posted for other drivers, however i will also be writing for: alex albon, lewis hamilton and sebastian vettel

[batwynn]

I typically have a pretty healthy respect for farmers and their work, especially having lived on and worked on many different farms growing up. I've woken up at 4am to milk cows, feed chickens, chop wood. I've pulled more weeds than you can imagine, tilled rows, and run out in hailstorms to protect crops. But I can't seem to dredge up a drop of respect for the farms around where I live these days. Because these guys don't actually do anything, and yet have a serious attitude about how much of better a person they are because they 'work hard' and 'kids these days don't wanna work' yadda yadda. They've convinced themselves and everyone around them that they work like people used to work on farms. In the field, backs bent, heavy lifting, etc. Except, you know, they don't. Everything is mechanized, and more than half of the year is spent doing nothing at all while the potatoes grow/over the winter. Every step of the planting, watering, spraying, harvesting, and storing process is run by a machine. The tractors don't even need them to direct them for most of the process. I've watched these guys fart around on their phones and pick their noses for 6 hours as the tractor goes back and forth, only waking up enough to turn the thing at the end of the row. For what isn't mechanized, (kale) they hire migrant workers to do the actual work. Meanwhile, these guys drive around in their un-used-for-anything-but-driving pickup trucks, yelling about migrant (non-white) workers and people asking for 'handouts'. Ironic, of course, because every single farm up here gets massive 'handout' from the government for multiple claims of u w u growing pwoblems. These same people will pick apart every single thing that you do 'wrong' because you don't do it the way they do it. (Like have a giant bulldozer to clear their driveway vs a small snow blower) If that wasn't enough, these aren't the neighbors that I grew up with. These same people have the ability to help others, and won't. They pull up to you after 5 months of grueling shoveling and clearing the driveway of snow and say, "Oh we could have done that for you for $40." And then never offer to do it next year. They'll stand outside and crack jokes about how our house is going to burn down because of how we set up the pellet stove, but not offer advice. They'll happily run their generators and settle in during the bomb cyclone that turned off the power for over a week at -60º and not even question if they should check on anyone living around them. They're greedy, selfish, lazy, cruel people and they say the kids are the problem?

[motorcop]

UN-AUTHORIZED!

Well, well, well - looks like our incredibly handsome Captain has not been following the rules - AND - making up things as he went along to satisfy his own wants and kinks. The latest 2 apparently were the final straw. Turns out putting hoods and "anonymizing" the convicts was never a department authorized option. In fact, it contradicts state law on treatment of convicts. So hoods have been removed from all newly processed convicts and "upgrades" to others in the system have been haulted. Next, the VR goggle experience was tried several times, and although what was thought to be a quick and effective alternative to "tubing" a convict, turns out a recidivism of 99.7% speaks for its ineffectiveness long term - PLUS, it looks like our Captain was a majority shareholder in the company that made the goggles and programming - a direct violation of clearly defined company policies and procedures. So, today our Chief and his elite capture team had a 4am knock knock call at the Captain's exceptionally nice home...he tried denying everything, as he was taken in. And, thanks to our strict rules and his agreement to them at time of hire, no trial or defense of the crimes is allowed, and you see him here suited in his Control Wear suit, soon to be "tubed" for a 30 day sentence and re-conditioning period. I know a few officers that will be glad to pull him out of service for their nightly authorized time with a convict....

[fuckyeslilkim]

Lil Kim's Squat Pose Is Iconic. Its Photographer Discusses it for the First Time

In a rare interview, Michael Lavine discussed the day he shot Lil Kim’s Hard Core cover, the booklet, and that feisty, nearly 30-year-old poster we just can’t get enough of.

Even though Michael Lavine has photographed OutKast, Ghostface Killah, JAY-Z, Missy Elliott, Foxy Brown and many others, he didn’t start out capturing larger-than-life rap acts. Like multiple moments throughout his career, he just fell into the next phase of artistry, which was deifying a generation of Black storytellers.

Lavine’s interest in photography goes way back. He led his high school’s yearbook committee as the head photographer. Soon after, at Washington’s Evergreen State College, he studied traditional street photography in the style of Robert Frank and Garry Winogrand. While in Washington, he befriended the group responsible for the record label that became Sub Pop, and documented a then-emerging sound that, to this day, continues to inspire chart toppers. He wasn’t interested in being married to any particular genre or group though, because boxing yourself in isn’t the move. “I just never felt comfortable kind of being pigeonholed in anything to my own detriment. It's not good for business to do that,” he said. “You're supposed to kind of dive in, not pull away. But that's just how I was wired. I wanted to do my own thing.”

After fostering the trust of music industry greats (“I started working for Rick Rubin. He was one of my first clients and he hired me to shoot a bunch of his Death American acts because he was starting to do metal at that time,” Lavine recalled) and becoming a Black Book highlight, he fell into shooting some of the biggest rappers on the scene. His knowledge of capturing Black talent helped. “I was very good at skin color and doing warm skin tones and lighting people,” he said. “For some reason, I think there was this problem with white people who didn’t understand how to light Black people, which was just ridiculous.”

In short, he came, he saw, he snapped. Legacies were cemented in the process, most notably with an image of one of the greatest female rappers that has become one of hip-hop’s most beloved and recreated photos — Lil Kim’s iconic squat seen ‘round the world.

Below, the retired photographer gave Okayplayer a rare interview where, for the first time, he discussed the day he shot Lil Kim’s Hard Core cover, the booklet, and that feisty, nearly 30-year-old poster we just can’t get enough of.

This interview, which took place over multiple conversations, has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.

When did you first meet Lil Kim?

The date was 7/30/96. The anniversary just passed.

What was your first impression of her?

My impression overall was she was not like she is, as in the present. She was very quiet and under the thumb of Big Un. Remember Big Un?

Are you talking about Lance “Un” Rivera?

Yeah. He was there. He was the man in charge of her and was kind of in control of the shoot. Kim didn't say a word. I don't think I spoke to her once about anything, but we had a nice rapport in front of the camera. She was great and we made a lot of pictures together, but I felt like there was this circus going on around us and it was just me and her. You get this intimate bond with your subject a lot of times. She's in her lingerie and rolling around on a bed. So, I was trying to be my normal, respectable self, and being professional and making the images with her in tandem.

I would direct her like, "Let's try this. How about coming over here? What if we lean this way?" There were a lot of sets. We had rented a brownstone in Manhattan probably. It was a couple floors. It might have been two floors. So there was a bedroom, a little balcony, a fireplace, and those big doors.

I interviewed Kim last year and she told me she just kind of dropped into the squat pose naturally.

It was very spontaneous. When you're doing photo shoots, at least when I was working, it was an organic process and you let things happen. It's like a creative flow. Whenever you have a creative director there holding out a [composition] like, "Here, do it like this," it just was always bad and kind of nothing. It was like the safest way to get whatever it is that they had in their minds. But to make a great photograph you have to let things happen. You just have to go with it.

There was no layout for her to do that pose. It just was natural. Part of it, I spent a lot of time low angle, meaning I was always kind of lying on the floor, crouching down myself. So, it's possible that one of the reasons she did it was because I was probably sitting on the floor looking up at her because that's kind of how I do. My style was based on the hero, meaning my job was to make people look like heroes with iconic style.

My style was based on making people look cool and giving them lots of options. So, we would take a lot of different kinds of photographs. I used different kinds of lighting. We moved very quickly. A lot of things happened and it was very much an exciting experience. Somebody had a set prop person there bringing flowers. For the cover shot, we had all those flowers in front of the fire, and the bear skin rug we brought that in. It was a normal hip-hop shoot. I was intimidated. It was a very hard day. Everybody was being kind of tough and intimidating, and nobody would talk to me.

Were you scared?

I was never scared, but they all had guns. It's not that I was scared..scared is not the right word. It's more like I felt kind of out of place a little bit. I didn't even speak with Kim. I was dealing with Un mostly, and Un had a lot of ideas. So we were trying to do all the things. I was getting coverage for him. He wanted to have her hold the honey bear. Remember, there's a shot of her holding a honey bear on the black satin sheets? We had a lot of props. I had a props guy. His name was Jerry Schwartz. He was very good and we had brought a bunch of stuff.

So, for example, I remember Puffy came in for a shot and I did one shot with Puffy and Kim together. And Puffy, I worked with him many times. He didn't even say hello to me.

I was just like, “Really? Do you have to be that way? You're so cool you don't want to embarrass yourself talking to the photographer, actually acknowledging him?”

I never really felt at home around Puffy. I think at that time, because I don't think he's like this anymore, but at that time he was — and I know this happened to several other people that I've witnessed throughout their careers — they're really striving. It's very hard at the beginning and they'll push, push, push. They're just about their thing and they don't care about you. So, he was yelling at everybody all the time.

On set that day?

Not that day. Other days.

Oh, just in general?

Just in general. Barking orders. But that day he came in briefly and we did the shot and then he left. There's one shot, I don't know if you've seen it, of them together on a wall. I don't even know why he was there. I can't remember. He had something to do with the record, I guess.

"There was no layout for her to do that pose. It just was natural," Lavine said of the image.

The image came out as the poster, “Lil Kim Coming Soon.” When you're there that day, you have no idea what images are going to stand out. Zero. There's just no way anyone could know. It isn't until there's time to contemplate the session when you edit it and you start to live with the images. And the graphic designer who, I can't remember who it was. Maybe you can find that out.

Maybe.

Let's see if there's a name on here. I don't know. Big Beat records? I don't know who that would've been. Atlantic maybe? I think it was Atlantic Records, no?

Lil Kim was [signed to] Atlantic.

It was Atlantic? Maybe it was, I don't know who it was. Liz Barrett? There were a bunch of people in the Atlantic art department at the time. I could probably look at the invoice.

Do you still have the invoice?

I don't know. Let's see if I do. '96...

If you do, you're the best records keeper of all time.

Yeah, there's Kim and Puffy right there. I have the whole job here. Ed and Carl were my assistants. The location was 24 West 10th Street. That's where we shot it. Here's something for you. Ready for this?

Yes.

So, these are notes from my conversation with the manager. "Little Kim. Female. She's the other woman, somersaults in bedroom, not raunchy. Doorway of bedroom, satin sheets. Blouse, undone. Honey in hair, on bed and on phone. Down pants. Unbuttoning pants. No whips and chains. Classy, sexy, lush, lustful. Candles in the background. Fruits and chocolates." There you go.

The notes Lavine was given prior to the Lil Kim shoot.

So, those were the notes that you were given before the shoot?

Yep. Those were the notes I was given before the shoot.

"Not raunchy" really stands out because I think you conveyed that.

"Not raunchy" — peekaboo, sexy shit.

Oh, man. Well, you did it. You accomplished the goal. And that actually flows really well into my next question, which was what do you believe they were trying to convey with the shoot?

It was funny that they hired me because I was known for not exploiting women in my photos. That was one of the reasons I didn't ever shoot women because back in the day, you were expected to shoot women with clothes off. I refused to do that and I never did it. I think this crouching picture was the raunchiest picture that I had ever done. Actually, that's not true. I did one once. But it was not my normal style, shall I say.

But also, it's an empowering image. I just generally felt uncomfortable sexualizing women throughout my career. That shoot was uncomfortable for me because I had to do that, and I think she was a little unclear as to what she was doing herself. I have no idea. I didn't talk to her. I'm not sure what she was thinking. Years later, I talked to her because we were both well complaining about this image being bootlegged.

She did mention that during our interview. That people were making t-shirts and making their own memorabilia.

It's completely illegal what they're doing, and it's got to be the most bootlegged image of mine. It's like whack-a-mole, you can't stop them. You send out your lawyers and then they just shut down and open with a different name. I could probably go out, spend some time and sue them all and she could, too. Who has time for that? If you have a lawyer and you have a lot of money, you could do that.

That sounds like a lot.

I mean, it's unfortunate. But she was talking about trying to do some merch of her own. The smart thing to do would be to get a deal with Merch Traffic or somebody that does merch, and then they would take care of trying to squash the illegal competition. But I thought that she was going to maybe have that happen this year, but I haven't heard from her.

But the image is just getting more and more famous. It's funny, you never know what kind of resonance an image is going to make and impress upon the culture at the time when you make it. It's rare that there's an instant classic. It's very hard to have that kind of impact these days just because of the nature of social media. Back then, there was a poster and that poster was the only poster. There was no other place to see it but the poster.

Now, it's everywhere.

That image really stands the test of time. Very few images stand the test of time like that image that I've worked on. It's one of my more recognizable images and I have a lot of them.

You do.

So, what can I say? It was a perfectly nice day. She was lovely. We had a nice rapport. The pictures came out great. I continued to work for many years after, and I'm retired now.

What made you jump into hip-hop photography?

Well, that's a funny question because I think my whole life, until recently, has been me falling into things that I wasn't planning on. I was driven to do photography so I was on that path. But if you would've told me my senior year, my fifth year of college, I was going to be shooting rock bands for a living for the rest of my life, I would've said, "Really?" I would've had no idea. But that fifth year [of college] I got a job to shoot a rock band and it just turned into —

The rest of your life?

It turned into the rest of my life. I never said, "I'm going to be a rock photographer." I never said that until I was one. Then, I had no plans on shooting hip-hop. It was an up-and-coming market at the time. I didn't know anything about it. I was friends with Kurt Cobain hanging out at rock shows, and really was unaware of a lot of hip-hop.

I did some hip-hop jobs early. I shot De La Soul, who I loved. I shot a few bands and hip-hop acts that were popular around that time. I got to know a lot of people in the business over time because I worked in it for so long. I was really close with Groovy Lou, who I loved as a stylist. June Ambrose. A lot of people.

But this was a defining moment. That shot, that poster when it came out, it made a lasting impact. It's still gaining speed. At that time, nobody knew who she was.

Did you know who she was?

I might've heard her name but not really. I just got hired on jobs. That's how I learned about people. I listened to the record before anybody else heard it. I got it first. But a lot of people were that way — I would learn about them on the job. That's how you learn because if I'm shooting 100 jobs a year, I don't have time to do anything but the job that's in front of me.

Did you listen to the album before the shoot?

Oh, I'm sure, of course. I don't remember the exact moment I listened to it but I always did. But that was part of the job, and we listened to it all day long during the shoot because that's what we did.

When did you realize that photo was really making waves?

Well, I think it happened over time. Obviously, the poster immediately was like, “OK, that's intense.”

Was it everywhere? Was it all over town?

It was everywhere. And when the poster came out it was powerful. It was a dramatic statement and it sent shock waves immediately. It was clearly influential at the time, I will say that. It was shocking and effective. It put her on the map.

Do you think it put her on the map more so than the cover?

Oh, yeah. The cover, who knows what the cover looks like? Nobody does.

[im-ovulating]

(A/n: We all know about Dragon! Kirishima.... But what about Dragon Slayer! Kirishima? With that thought in mind, I present you with this:)

(Inspired by this from cookiecosplayers on tiktok)

(I have a confession... this was supposed to have smut, but it's just been sitting in my drafts for 4 months... since I can't find the flow to the nsfw, you guys get this unfinished and un-beta'd fic. Maybe I'll finish it some day🤷‍♀️😭)

Word Count: Good question

Summary- While sitting in a shady pub, you encounter a very intriguing stranger

Warnings: None

Age Rating: None

Dragon Slayer! Kirishima x Fem! Reader

------------------------------

You're sipping on a pint of stale mead when he slips into the booth across from you, interrupting your self-imposed pity party. The stranger glances around the pub, taking in the drunks and thugs with an unreadable expression before looking back to you.

"This isn't a place for pretty little things like yourself." His voice is gruffer than you'd assume from looking at him, though not unpleasant. In fact, the entirety of your sudden companion is more pleasant than you were getting used to seeing from your table.

His rogue leather armor -just a chest plate and cuffs, really-, and weaponry the only things pointing to his belonging. Armed with a claymore and various daggers, he certainly makes an imposing figure. From first glance, you'd say he's probably some type of mercenary. 'Murder for hire,' your mind unhelpfully supplies.

He's tall with bright red hair that's pulled off his face with a thick leather cord, broad shoulders and thick, veiny forearms. His face is deceptively soft, his right eye sporting a singular scar spanning from his eyebrow to the top of his cheekbone. His bright red eyes bore into you with an intensity that has the hair on the back of your neck stand on edge.

Any attraction you may have felt for him goes out the window at his choice of words, though. His condescending tone making you bristle in your seat.

Your eyebrows furrow as you glare at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, honey. You belong in a pretty little dress with pretty little flowers, not here with a bunch of lowlifes." He crosses his arms, and leans against the back of the booth, and regards you with a neutral expression. "Before you bite my head off: I'm just tryna look out for ya. You don't belong in a place like this, darlin'."

"And how do you know where I belong?" You snark, arms crossing as you continue to glare at the man in front of you.

"I just do..." He jabs a thumb at the rowdy patrons, "A little girl like you shouldn't be spending her time with these... creeps. This place is a cesspool of drunks, thugs, and low lives."

"If it's so bad, why are you here? Associating yourself with such bad people?"

A wolfish smile spreads across his face as he leans forward, resting his arms on the table. The faint lighting casting his eyes in an almost scary light. "Considering I'm one of the King's big, bad dragon slayers, I'd say I fit in here quite well..."

He grabs your pint and drinks from it. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Hey- You know what? Never mind, keep it," You're quickly realizing that arguing with this strange man is a losing battle. The distraction of his drink-stealing makes it take you a second to process his words, "Wait- Dragon slayer?"

You eye him for a second, not quite believing him. He may look strong and have the weapons, but he doesn't quite fit how the stories describe the King's most hardened warriors. You have to say, he doesn't look like he could take on such beasts.

Not the massive, armored creatures you've been warned about since you were a kid, anyway. With skin tougher than diamond, teeth shaper than the best blacksmiths' steel and claws longer than your forearm. You've been told even the smallest ones stand above even the tallest of men.

"No offense but you don't look like a dragon slayer."

He quirks an eyebrow at you. "And how am I s'posed to look, sweetie?"

Your face heats at the veiled accusation. "I dunno... Bigger, nastier. I've heard the dragon slayers are all filthy brutes that even the king cannot convince to be more civilized."

He smirks, briefly looking you up and down before leaning against the booth again, arm thrown over it as he manspreads.

"So, you don't think I'm a big, nasty brute?" He teases.

Your back straightens as you prepare to squawk out a defense only to be cut off as he laughs. "Calm down, sweetheart. I'm just playin with ya." He takes another swing from the stolen mead.

The man sets his -your- pint down to unhook his chest plate and pull his jacket aside, revealing a multitude of burn marks and various other scars. "How this for a brute?"

Your eyes widen at the suddenly exposed skin, any disbelief at his claim squashed with a single look at his marred skin. A small gasp leaves your parted lips at the way the pink flesh and silvery scratches and bites make his torso look almost like stained glass. Definitely the scars you've been told stories about.

Before you can stop yourself, you're asking, "What happened there?" As you point to a fairly large burn scar on the left side of his chest.

"That... was from a Firefury. The fucker's fire blasted me square in the chest. Burned straight through my armor like it was kindling." A smug smirk appears as he finishes, "Still managed to take him down, though..."

Any annoyance you held from his snide nicknames and earlier behavior is thrown out the window at the prospect of hearing about the dragons that plague your kingdom from someone who has actually been up close and personal with them. You can deal with his insufferable pet names in favor of firsthand stories.

He fixes his jacket in favor of rolling his left sleeve up to reveal a patch of slightly raised flesh molted with reds and purples. "This one, as you can probably guess, was from a Blue Terror."

You shift to the edge of your seat to get a better look. The noise of the other pub goers fades as you listen to the stranger's story.

"What did it do?" You look at his face only to find him already looking at you, a small smile gracing his lips unlike his previous smug expressions. You look back to the scarred skin to avoid eye contact.

Wondering what the skin feels like after such an injury, you start to reach for his arm before stopping yourself. You may be interested in the stranger now, but you'll be damned if you make a fool of yourself like that.

Seeing your intrigue, he gestures at you that it's okay to touch his arm as he speaks. "She got a lucky hit in; turned my forearm into what felt like a block of ice."

Apart from a few dry, scaley patches along the edge of the mark, the skin feels surprisingly smooth if not a bit tight.

"It lost some feeling after that and if it gets hit too much, it feels like my arm is being flamed all over again."

Confusion floods you at his words, "I thought they didn't breath fire?"

The man's eyebrows knit together before he seems to realize something. "I forget villagers don't normally come into contact with the beasts... Blue Terror's spit flame just like most dragons, contrary to what the folklore says about them breathing ice. Their name comes from where they live and the frigid feel of their flames. They're still very much flames, though. Don't be mistaken."

"Really?" If that piece of folklore was wrong, you wonder how else the dragons are different from what you've been told.

"Ye-" A loud bang from across the tavern interrupts him. A quick look reveals one of the drunks at the bar had merely slipped out of his seat and hit the floor. Shaking your head in distain, you turn back to your new-found acquaintance.

He lightheartedly snorts as the patron climbs back into his barstool.

You hate to do it, but you have to admit, at least to yourself, that looking past his introduction, the man was actually interesting company; not the zealot you would expect from a place like this.

Looking back to you he asks, "I have one more big one if you're interested?"

"You're quite fond of your scars, aren't you?" You lightly chuckle, resigning to take your mead back. You chug a bit before placing it back on the table.

He chuckes as well, "Yeah, I guess you get that way when they're all you've got to remember everything you've fought for."

At your curious look, he continues. "They're a reminder of the dangers of my job and of just how close I came to death. How many times I've pulled through a tough spot."

"The nightmares are a whole other issue though," he jokes.

You tilt your head at the man, "That's... kind of a beautiful way of looking at them..."

"Hey, don't get all sweet on me, honey. I'm a big, mean, uncivilized dragon slayer; I'm not supposed to feel emotions, remember?" He laughs, waving down the bar maid to order another pint.

You can't help the laugh that makes it way up your throat.

"What~?" He sips his drink once she brings it, chuckling. "It's true!"

"I'm sure it is," you're not sure how this went from you being chastised to an actually pleasant conversation, but you can't say you're complaining. "You said you had another one to show me?"

"Right," he turns to the side, moving his hair to reveal a massive star-shaped scar reaching across his neck, just touching his jaw and creeping under the shoulder of his jacket. "This one was the nastiest: A massive Ivorywing managed to get behind my while I was fighting and bit a clean chunk of flesh from me. No reason I shoulda survived, but here I am~"

He spreads his arm wide as he flashes another sharp smile your way.

You return it with a small shake of your head. "The rewards must be worth it, no? Along with the fame, that is?"

"I guess," he muses.

"The reward is nice - the recognition, though? That's the worst part," he continues. "The way I'm treated like some sort of hero or something. I'm no hero, doll. I'm just a guy doing my job; I don't need no damn fame..."

You furrow your brows at him. "What do you mean? Dragon slayers have saved hundreds of civilians - noble and peasant alike - I think that makes you well deserving of the 'hero' title."

The man in front of you has fallen some of the biggest beasts on this earth - has the scars to prove it - and doesn't think he is any sort of heroic? Insanity.

"I know it probably sounds dumb, but I stand by it..." He finishes his mead, chugging the rest of it in one go. "You know who doesn't get called heroes? The blacksmiths that make my weapons, the armorers who design my armor, the doctors who patch me up... They're the ones who should be called the heroes."

"That's very..." You struggle to find the words, "humble of you to say..."

He shrugs, "It's just my opinion. I don't deserve that title just because I have the shiny scars and cool stories."

There's a brief pause as you process what he says and he takes a breath to steady himself from the rant.

"You never answered my question, doll."

"What?"

"What you're doing in a place like this? I've talked enough about me, I wanna hear about you."

[beeefantastic]

“I won’t leave until I get what I want, even if it costs me everything.” 🩸

-

As Tundra.skies ‘s (insta) contest is coming to a close I figure I better get my post in! I based this fellow upon the little stuffed doll Void has in his talons (Since I brought up the idea in the comments I hope I did not take over anything you had planned, and if I did, Trout can be un canon of course lol) So, more about him here:

-

Trout is a legend in the detective business in the Seawing kingdom, revolutionizing the process and catching over 1000+ individuals in his lifetime not including getting classified information on others. He is quite egotistical and brash, preferring to work alone and isn’t afraid of being snappy to those who hire him- as he is in high demand. His popularity even landed him a spot in the Nightwing courts of law school as a professor, which is where he currently resides with a focus on criminal justice. In his mid-age he finds himself out competed by those who are younger and has been taking it rather harshly, his reputation as a strict old professor overshadowing his achievements. When, suddenly an anonymous dragon asked for his services- all the way across the continent. Aiming to catch his former glory he accepted and has put his teaching career on hold, dropping everything to collect dirt on the Rising Dunes for the few who oppose them. But he has taken on no small task, and he feels as if the whole desert is against him. The only positive he has is the locals have no information on him, although it’s only a matter of time before they go snooping. His main focus is on Void, struggling to contain the information he has from the prying dragon. Although the rest of Polaris’s children have also given him threats to deal with. (I also made his scarf resemble a collar and tie, but it does have a hood in the back to cover his features and protect from sand.) Hope yall enjoy!! ✨✨

[kalliyen]

Brewing Romance

Pairing: Diluc x GN!Reader

Featuring: Diluc, Kaeya, Jean

Genre: Fluffff, Barista AU, Modern AU, College AU

Summary: barista au….un lang lol also diluc falls in love at first sight….yeah

Reader’s Pronouns: they/them

Warning: diluc is so down bad, kinda ooc mb…(not really) HES SO FINE WOOF WOOF slight kaebedo implied lawlwlwlwlw

Disclaimer: ⚠️ ONLY A WORK OF FICTION!

i. a change of pace

Diluc Ragnvindr wishes for a change of pace. Something different from his boring dull life as a college student who works part time at a nearby café.

It’s not like he needs the money or anything, his family is quite wealthy, but he decided to work for the experience. Also because his friend, Jean, forced him.

Not really forced him no, more like begged him to help her around the shop because they were very understaffed, and Diluc being the kind stoic soul he is, took pity in his friend and decided to accept her offer.

Unluckily for him, he didn’t know that his brother, Kaeya, also works at the café, if he asked Kaeya why, all he’d respond is with “To scout cute chicks!” But he knows Kaeya was just really ogling the blonde kid with bags in his eyes that sits in the back of the café, he noticed that Kaeya would always volunteer to give the man his order…..

ii. new face ?

It’s like as if the Anemo Archon himself heard his pleas for a new face, because a few days later he’s greeted with someone new.

Not like he recognizes every single costumer that comes and goes, but you stood out to him because damn….you were breathtaking.

When you walked up to the cashier he internally panicked, immediately putting Kaeya in his spot and disturbing his brother from ogling that blonde kid again.

“Hey?!! Bro what the hell was that for?!?!” Kaeya exclaims “Spot me. You take their order and I’ll make it. Alright?” Diluc states

Not getting another word in, and not wanting to question Diluc about his red face for now, he begrudgingly takes your order, still kind of looking at the blonde kid at the back (these brothers are so down bad what the hell 🔥🔥)

Diluc makes your order, still as red as his hair, because you ordered his favorite drink, and Jean noticed that he was making it with a smile on his face. ‘I guess he’s finally gone crazy.’ She thinks to herself.

Diluc hands you your order, looking down a bit, because he swear if he sees your beautiful presence again he might actually just combust.

You notice a ‘help wanted’ poster near the door and decide to ask him about it.

“Hey are you guys still looking for help? Cause I’d love to work part time here, if that’s alright.” You state. And Diluc’s brain actually stumbles into himself, he responds to you with “O-of course! We’d be happy to accept your h-help..You can ask the manager for the application form and she can schedule an interview with you” He finishes, and points to where Jean was.

“Thank you so much! Uhm….Diluc?” You read on his name tag. Taken aback, Diluc replies “O-of course! No problem. Happy to help.”

Kaeya was watching the whole scene from the cashier with a stupid smile on his face, god damn his brother was in for it hard.

iii. ARE YOU UP FOR THE CHALLENGE????? *vine boom*

On the day of your interview with Jean, you decided to dress up nicely and give it all you’ve got, like this is some big corporate job or something.

But hey, to you this was a big interview because god fucking damn did you need some spare cash, you don’t think you can live on processed food for another week even if you had to.

Jean doesn’t beat around the bush and immediately tells you that your hired, saying that you could start tomorrow.

Diluc over hears your interview and smiles to himself, he can finally work with someone he wants too!

iv. cupid works in mysterious ways

Even if you did work together, Diluc unfortunately does not have the same shift as you do. He works the lunch hours from 11 am to 3 pm, while you work from 8 am to 12 noon, which only alots one hour with you everyday, but he tried to make the best of those 60 minutes with you.

Though he was very nervous to approach you at first, he was the one tasked to help you work the coffee machine, and how the workflow goes.

Admittedly, he gets distracted by you sometimes, he just can’t help himself. The way your hair is kept neatly so it doesn’t get it your face, the way the apron hugs you form, making you seem more beautiful than you already were.

It’s not like you were stupid or anything, you weren’t oblivious to the obvious ogling Diluc does whenever he works with you. It brings a wave of heat to your cheeks, because to have such attractive man have eyes for you? You’d almost believe that you were the mc of a fan fiction or something.

Jean obviously noticed the tension you two would emit whenever you worked together, and how Diluc hesitated to greet you goodbye when your shift was over. So she arranged a new schedule for him, to be on the same work shift as you.

They weren’t as understaffed as before, having a good handful of employees that recently applied. Mostly because they wanted to check out the two hot brothers that worked at front. But hey, whatever keeps the business going am I right?

Before Diluc leaves by the end of his shift, double checking if he’s cleaned the machine thoroughly, Jean calls him into her office, Diluc obliges, not thinking much of it.

“Is there a particular reason you called me here Jean?” Diluc asks, while closing the door of her office. “Don’t worry Diluc, it isn’t anything dire. Just a slight change in your work hours.” She says while fixing the papers on her desk.

At this, Diluc’s ears perk up, “My shift? Change? What for?” To be closer with you, he hopes.

“I’ve decided for you to have the same shift as y/n, I sense that you have no opposition to this? Seeing as you enjoy your time on the job whenever they are present.” Jean states like it was to be expected. “Of course, I don’t have any oppositions. You are the manager after all.”

v. latte (he)art

To say you were surprised to see Diluc at work that early the next day was an understatement. You were ecstatic. “Diluc? what are you doing at work so early?” You ask, a smile threatening to form on your lips, trying your hardest to hold yourself back at the sight of him.

“Jean decided to change my shift, so I could work the morning hours, since that’s our busiest time.” And to spend more time with you, Diluc wants to say, but decides against it.

“Really? That’s great!” You start with a smile on your face. “Oh and uhm, I actually really needed your help with something. You know the latte art? Yeah I’m learning to do that now but it’s really hard, Kaeya tried to teach me but he completely gave up, I swear he just works here to ogle that blonde kid at the back”

“Of course I’d help you y/n, it’d be my pleasure.” Diluc says with a smile on his face. He looked very pretty when he smiled, you thought.

You and Diluc spent a few hours and countless cups of coffee, trying to get you to create an actually presentable output. But you just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it.

Profusely apologizing over and over again, But Diluc didn’t seem to mind, having been patient with you this whole time. He decided it was best for you both to have a slight break from the latter art.

But then you felt something warm on your hands, a cup of coffee and Diluc’s warm fingers, seeming to engulf your own.

You looked down at the cup of coffee, and then up at him, noticing that the cup held a cute heart in it, which made your own heart soar with happiness.

“Let’s take a break yeah? We can learn once you’ve collected yourself. Just enjoy this cup I’ve made for you for now.” Diluc hands you the cup, while leaving a loving yet hesitant kiss to your forehead.

———————

gbye i didn’t know how to end this……anyways enjoy 🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪

[duckymcdoorknob]

Heyo again! I have returned for the final order!

If it's alright, I'd like to order a medium iced coffee with extra ice; the toppings are cream + sugar and caster sugar (and possibly sea salt but that's optional :3) The name on the order is Joe :3

Thank you again! Here's my payment! :3 Have an amazing day and take your time with everything friend! Here's to an incredible event!

WIDHIDBSJWN DA FUCKING C A T E

HelLO WELCOME TO ORDER NUMBER 3 >:)

This one is self indulgent and was so cute 🙁❤️

CW BELOW THE CUT: None!

♫ -ᥕᥲі𝗍ᥱr, ᥕᥲі𝗍ᥱr, ⍴ᥱrᥴ᥆ᥣᥲ𝗍᥆r- ☕️

You never could’ve imagined that playing with your aunt’s spare camera would lead you to many, wonderful adventures. After picking up your first camera as a child, you fell in love with photography. Overtime, you developed a passion and talent for the craft, leading you to post your shots. After a while, you gained popularity, and the attention of a certain family…

Next thing you knew, you were hired by the Chinens to photograph Miya’s competitions. You didn’t much mind, though, since the boy was a riot.

Miya kept you entertained as you photographed. There was something so enticing about the way he performed his tricks. Your shots were beautiful, sending you, and your employers, home with a large portfolio of photographs.

After a competition, the boy begged his parents to go to a restaurant. They agreed and, to your shock and delight, invited you along.

It was there that you would meet the rest of Miya’s friends, and the owner of the place: Kojiro Nanjo.

From that point, you were deeply immersed in the world of skating, and “S” itself. You had become fast friends with everyone, for you found yourself feeling strangely comfortable around the motley crew.

You decided to keep your photography a secret from the rest of them, and begged Miya to do the same. You had a great plan in mind…

At every race one of your boys was in, you would discreetly follow him down the path and take action shots. After a while, each had their own portfolio stuffed to the brim with photos.

When Christmas came, you printed each of their photos and tied them neatly with a ribbon. They were all overjoyed to have such beautiful photos as a keepsake, but were careful to keep them hidden away.

It wasn’t long before word spread of your talents, and soon enough you found yourself as the official “S” photographer. The skaters would commission you mostly, but sometimes you would grab a few shots for practice.

After a while, skater after skater wanted their photos taken, and it became supremely overwhelming.

After a killer night of tournaments, you found yourselves all relaxing at Hiromi’s apartment, the seven of you somehow fitting in the three roomed place.

Miya, who had insisted that he wasn’t tired, was currently curled up on the floor with his head in Kaoru’s lap, the man running his fingers through the boy’s hair absentmindedly.

Kojiro, Hiromi, Reki, and Langa were all seated on the floor and watching your photo processing, since Miya had begged you to put it on the TV via an hdmi cable attached to your laptop.

Reki had ended up falling asleep first, head resting on Langa’s shoulder. The blue-haired boy didn’t miss a beat and mirrored his friend’s actions. Kaoru decided to move Miya to Hiromi’s bed, and Hiromi drifted off on the couch, resting his head on his palm, leaving you and Joe alone.

You wordlessly clicked through thousands of photos, checking the time every few seconds. You had been paid to have a whole portfolio ready by the next morning, and you had so many un-usable ones. The SD card was loaded with duplicates, blurry shots, unfocused shots, other skaters, motion blurred shots, photobombed shots, etc.

“Hey.” You heard a whisper from behind you. “How’s it looking?”

With a sigh, you pointed to the top right hand corner of your laptop, revealing harsh, white numbers that read 250/3250

“(N/N), you started this an hour ago. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be up all night.” Joe noted as his hands gently came up to rub your shoulders.

“It’s alright,” you replied. “I can’t sleep until these are finished.”

The green-haired male clicked his tongue in annoyance. His hands didn’t stop gently massaging your shoulders as he watched you agonizingly sift through your SD card.

After another half hour. The clock read 2:30, and you were bleary-eyed and delirious. Every photo looked blurry, and you were close to tears. Your hands grew shaky leading to trouble moving your mouse.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong? What’s on your mind?” Joe’s whispered question brought you over the edge. Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as your shoulders shook. “Hey…”

“Joe, please just-“ you sniffled. “Please, I need a hug.”

The man wasted no time gently taking you in his lap and holding you close. He cradled your head and let it rest on his shoulder as he placed his other arm around your torso. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? Why can’t we go to sleep yet?”

“You can go to sleep whenever…” you murmured. “I have to get these photos out by morning or else they’ll-“ a whimper escaped you. “It’ll tarnish my name. This is my living, this is how I’m still able to see everyone-“

“Hey… don’t you dare think that you’ll lose us. You are a damn talented photographer, and I think that freakish competitive skateboarders know how important a good night’s sleep is. They will understand, (N/N). Make a note of where you are, and let’s get you to bed.”

With a nod and a sniffle, you agreed. Joe opened a notepad on your computer, writing down the number you left off on. He carefully stood up with you in his arms, being careful to not step on the sleeping bodies on the floor. He went down the hall to Hiromi’s room and was met with a sleeping Kaoru and Miya.

With a gentle sigh, he returned to the main room and carefully laid down on the sofa. He covered the two of you with a blanket and put a decorative pillow behind his head.

It wasn’t comfortable whatsoever, but the important part was that you were finally asleep.

Smiling, he cradled your head once again and felt his eyes drooping shut.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[businessabroad]

How to succeed in your test at the United Nations #14

Mastering the UN's Hiring Exams: Tips for Triumph

The road to securing a job at the United Nations often includes a crucial testing phase. Our latest video, "How to Succeed Your Test at the United Nations - UN Jobs #14," is your guide to conquering this step with confidence.

From written exams to language proficiency and competency-based interviews, we delve into each testing format and reveal strategies for success. With advice from those who've passed and proven stress management tips, this video is a valuable resource for all UN job hopefuls.

Embark on your test preparation journey with us and move one step closer to your UN career goals.

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Here are all the videos in this course.

The Benefits of Working at the United Nations

UN Duty Station: What it is and What you Can Expect

The Process of Getting A Job at the United Nations

How to Apply For A Job At The United Nations

United Nations Levels and Salary - What are they?

Type of Contract at the United Nations

United Nations Steps and Contract Negotiation

United Nations Jobs, Job Role, and Posting Locations

UN Job Opportunities - How to Increase Your Odds

Best Places for Your Family to Live

How are you Competing Against

United Nations Official Languages

This is What the UN's Application Process is Like

How to success your test at the United Nations

Before Passing Your Interview at the United Nations

How to Successfully Interview For a Competency-Based Job

List of Questions used in Competency-Based Interview

What to do After the Interview at the United Nations

[elissaalva]

september 4th

Since 2012, I have allowed myself to be muted for the sake of peace and what i perceived to support the safety of the future for my son and I. Its where the sparkle began to die. I know it. I can remember the moment and it still haunts me. I knew no one was going to save us or support us. I went into quiet mode or mute. Once known to be bold and outspoken, I shut the fuck up. I shut the fuck up in fear that my words would be used against me. My actions and choices would be used against me in family law court and as I was seeking employment within the field of Criminal Justice. I told myself I was not going to give anyone any reason to use against me in court or during the hiring process. I deleted videos of me participating in travel during the tours with Wekfest, I only accepted shifts serving during lunch hours even though the customers were more rude and far from generous (ugh, the many stories to share life as a restaurant server is insane), I asked Marvin to delete videos of my birthday parties and any adventures that would look irresponsible in the slightest, I deactivated my first blog I built on wordpress, I remember even avoiding speeding or going into a carpool lane during heavy bay area traffic, because I wanted to be seen as responsible, reliable, honest, and law abiding. I slowed down with accepting modeling opportunities, I stopped sharing, I started hiding. After 12 years, its safe to say that majority of that did matter. However, how rigid and focused I became is misaligned with my core essence. Even when i hit my bench marks of what success meant to me, i didn’t appreciate it because i would tell myself “what took you so long to get here? This is overdue and nothing to celebrate. Keep going.” I have been so un happy and bitter. I killed the fun, curious, and playful parts of me. In these years, I lived in fear and shame. I let the decisions of others make me feel and believe I was a bad person for not being chosen in some way(s). Now that I look back, why would they? My energy probably came off weird or confusing. I was trying to be what they wanted me to be all while keeping my walls up to keep us all safe. Present day, the idea of forcing myself to fit in places I am not seen or recognized is just crazy to me. Ugh! I wish i could just hug and squeeze my younger versions of myself. 2024 in numerology is the year of karma…and I have been seeing it getting served up on gold platters to those who did wrong to me in some way. I will save this for another post though. The topic of Karma is a big one to unpack. 2024 is also the year of the Dragon in the Chinese Zodiac. Its my year. It occurs every 12 years and I see each return to be highly transformative. At 11-12 years old I learned I was on my own in this world I was gonna need to be my own parent, 23-24 years old I decided to play by the rules to the extreme to obtain what my son and I needed to thrive, and now at 35 (soon to be 36) I am choosing to embrace and approach these next 12 years unapologetically. Being around this long I carry with my quiet a bit of varying experiences and knowing. I learned the rules and now I am ready to play the game. side note: I am competitive as fuck, so this game and experience of life is about to get a lot more interesting and fun!

[free-for-all-fics]

So… while working on IWTV prompts, the s3 teaser made me feral. So with the help of my bestie, @une-lueur-dans-la-nuit we wrote this prompt that ended up being so much fun for us that it became almost like a miniseries! There will be 2 parts after this! Special thanks to her for providing the French! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of this and I’d love to read it! 🎸❤️🩸

“No, that's how billionaire vampires do it. How does your average Jo Mo vampire keep people like you in line? Unspoken threats?”

“The threat is always there. He could kill us both now. But he doesn't. They are peaceful beings.”

“They drain and disappear us.”

“They have a biological imperative that is in conflict with human morality. But what is that morality other than rules agreed upon?”

“Thank you, Rashid. A romantic answer to your question. The average vampire has minimal contact with humanity. When exposed, they feed or run or kill themselves. And I'd say we're multi-millionaires. Not quite a billion.”

“How do you hide from the Cloud?”

“Your cell phones make you slaves to your fetishes and data retrieval is primarily about profits, so I suspect no one at Amazon is trying to sell us blenders.”

“You kill, nightly.”

“And sometimes you've watched that kill on the local news. You've never been easier to distract. You're at the height of willful ignorance. We exploit it. This is, was… Lestat's prophetic vision.”

“Lestat de Lioncourt?”

“Yes.”

“I really gotta meet this guy […] To hear Louis tell it... Lestat becoming a vampire was a horror show.”

“That may be. But he made a remarkable recovery shortly thereafter. How else could you explain his hand feeding the audience? How words came out like canaries, summer fruit in the dead of winter. They were all in love with him. He had that effect on everyone. He...”

“Was a natural?”

“Entirely unnatural. Using the Dark Gift for what? His vanity? It was heresy.”

~

Part 1: Orientation

It’s modern day. Ever since you and your older brother, Lestat, became famous rockstars while performing as The Vampire Lestat, formerly Satan’s Night Out, you’ve both been very active on socials. You’ve been around since the 18th century and it’s amazing what modern technology is capable of! You used to have to wait weeks or months for a reply to a letter or telegram, or sit or stand still for hours to have your portraits painted, but now messaging is instant and you can share photos and thoughts with people all over the world. You and Lestat are almost internet addicts with how often you post and interact online. If you’re not performing, rehearsing, writing music, or doing interviews, press junkets, or promo shoots, you’re tapping away on your phones or laptops, always posting. You’ve quickly risen in the ranks of social media influencers and have been trending for months. Together you and Lestat maintain a popular vlog on both Instagram and YouTube where you frequently post all kinds of videos ranging from Get Ready With Me, Ask Me Anything, or just daily life vlogs.

You’re currently on tour, but are in need of some new hires since your and Lestat’s last personal assistants unexpectedly…quit…or were…terminated. They weren’t up to the bar of meeting your and Lestat’s expectations and standards. Since Lestat has far less patience than you and can’t be bothered, he’s left it up to you to interview and screen potential candidates for the Personal Assistant position. Usually he’d have a say and you’d have to come to a mutual agreement before hiring anyone new, but he’s sat through this process multiple times and trusts you to single-handedly make this decision by now. That, and he just wants to dump the work, problems, and responsibilities he doesn’t want to deal with onto somebody else as quickly as possible. So the sooner you find someone, the better.

“Next!”

“Good evening, Miss Lioncourt. My name is Juliette—”

“Well, yes. We’ll get to all that. Sit down. Don’t just stand there, lurking in the doorway and making the place look untidy. What are you doing here?”

“Well, I think I could do a good job as your and your brother’s assistant.”

You read her mind. “You don’t listen to The Vampire Lestat?”

“Uh, no.”

“And before today, you had never heard of me nor my brother.”

“No.”

“And you have no style or sense of fashion.”

“Well, um, I think that depends on what you’re—”

“No, no. That wasn’t a question. A shame you were late.”

“I'm not late, though? I’m fifteen minutes early.”

“What do you mean fifteen minutes early? Did no one ever tell you fifteen minutes early is the new late? Have you had any experience before in this kind of position?”

“I already sent in my CV. All my information should be there.”

“You sent your CV through? You know, I don’t really remember you. Let me have a look. You look very different from your CV. Mmm. Well, your skills and experience are…adequate, I would say. But first thing you should know is that this job is not for the faint of heart. Lestat is incredibly fussy with his PAs. More so than I am. During our time on tour, we have had over sixty PAs come through our doors and, for one reason or another, Lestat or I just…didn’t get on with them. And no one really has ever been as good as… Well, you don’t need to know their name as it’s irrelevant, but Lestat had a favorite Personal Assistant a long, long time ago, and he hasn’t quite gotten over their leaving. Ah, Lestat est si nostalgique (Ah, Lestat is so nostalgic). They were his very most favorite assistant, so you have some mighty big shoes to fill. I hope you know that. Mhm. Well, it doesn’t really matter how well you do your job or how efficient you are. If Lestat or I don’t like you, you’re out. If you disappoint Lestat or I, you’re out. And if me telling you this makes you think I’m high maintenance or a piece of work, you won’t be able to survive in this position.”

Juliette has a feeling your use of the word ‘survive’ in this context isn’t just a figure of speech. She swallows down her nerves.

“I am the patron saint of mercy and patience compared to my brother, so if you have any doubts about your abilities, there’s the door. Otherwise…bonne chance.” (Good luck.)

“I’ll try my best-”

“Now, our concert tonight isn’t for another two hours or so, so we have a little bit of time to go over everything. Apart from us, you’d be working closely with Christine as well, so let me get this straight with you off the bat. You and Christine would have totally different jobs. She’s our lawyer and is in charge of Lestat and I’s schedule, our appointments, and our finances. She gets to go with us to Paris for Fashion Week in the fall, she gets to go to all the shows, meet all the designers, go to all the parties, it’s divine. Christine is also a vampire like us, so don’t think you can do what she can do because, trust me, you can’t. You, as a human, on the other hand, well…you get ‘coffee’ and run errands. ‘Coffee’ is code for blood, in case you hadn’t figured that out. Now, also remember you must pick up our band mates’ and guests’ coffee orders as well. Our guests could be designers, clients, musicians, models, photographers…. Anybody from the fashion, musical, or vampire world, and you are expected to learn everyone’s ‘coffee’ order. Remember, for vampires, ‘coffee’ is blood, and for humans like our band mates, it’s, well…regular coffee. Starbucks, Caribou, Dunkin’ Donuts, wherever you prefer. Now, this does change from time to time, I will admit. For instance, Zakk Wylde used to take his coffee black but now he’s um, not even drinking caffeine anymore, so you’ll just have to keep up-to-date with all our guests and their companions or assistants will tell you what they prefer that given day. We have an internal system of all the orders of the ‘coffees’ and the beverages that everybody drinks so you’re expected to learn that. Now, our internal system has everything, everything that you could possibly ever want to know. ‘Coffee’ orders, all our social media accounts, all our files, all of our system data, so I’ll get you set up on that now.”

You type away at the computer, pulling up the appropriate screen.

“So can I just take your full name? This’ll become part of your username. Okay. And what password would you like? You can change this, obviously. And your date of birth.”

When Juliette tells you her DOB, you do a double take. “Mon Dieu (my god), you look older. Okay. And your social media handles. Your Instagram first. Facebook? And Twitter? Any other social media accounts? Okay. Let’s see.” You click the ‘save new user’ and ‘apply new changes’ buttons. “All right, done. Can I take your number and then this will get pinged over to your phone? Okay. Should be through now.”

Juliette’s phone pings with a new email.

“Got it? Perfect. So those are your login details.”

“Thank you, I might have some qu—”

“Now, Lestat’s and I’s ‘coffee’ orders are incredibly important. We expect our ‘coffee’ to be on our desks precisely when we wake up in the evening. If the ‘coffee’ is late or if it doesn’t arrive for any reason, Lestat and I - especially Lestat - get very upset. One assistant actually missed our ‘coffee’ order because of some, I don’t know, bus crash downtown or something like that, some lame excuse, and…well, we drank him instead. Drained him dry. We don’t often share since most humans faint from just one of us feeding on them. Sharing a human and drinking as much as needed to feel full and satiated before the heart stops would mean certain death for them. With cell phones and social media, it’s getting harder and harder these days to make a human disappear. But it’s not impossible. Now, don’t look so scared! You won’t have to do this every night. Sometimes Lestat and I prefer to hunt for ourselves like in the old days for nostalgia’s sake. You’ll be notified in advance if we decide to hunt ourselves. But if not, it’s up to you to keep us fed, and Lestat and I tend to be very picky eaters. A fresh young girl, that is his favorite food. But the triumphant kill for a sadist like Lestat is always a young man. Young men appeal to him in particular. They represent the greatest loss to Lestat, because they stood on the threshold of the maximum possibility of life. For me, I don’t mind a young woman while she’s on her monthly cycle. It reminds me of who I used to be and what I once had. But I prefer…what do you call them in English? Ah, yes. DILFs or MILFs. Men or women who seem to be doing well in life. They have more ‘taste’, like aged wine. Lestat likes to take away young men from all their possibilities, while I like to take what I’ll never have as well: A menstrual cycle, a pregnancy, Getting old, settling down…”

“Did you and Lestat…feed on pregnant women and children?” Juliette asks hesitantly, as if afraid the question might be offensive to you.

“We used to. Not anymore though. We’d feed on infants too if blood was scarce and we were especially desperate. They were so small, there wasn’t much blood in their bodies to drink before their tiny hearts stopped. It may seem especially heinous, but in the 18th century when we became vampires, medicine wasn’t what it is now and the mortality rates in women and children were already very high even before the Revolution. People would notice if too many men died or disappeared as they held the most power and societal influence, but nobody would bat an eye if it was a woman or a child. They’d write it off as another stillborn or another unfortunate victim who succumbed to a tragic and fatal accident or whatever disease was most prevalent at the time. We were beggars and couldn’t afford to be choosers in those days. But now, like I said, we are much more particular. We don’t feed on animal blood and we don’t like cold blood from blood bags. Even if it’s been heated up in the microwave and poured in a glass, it’s not the same as when it’s warm and flowing directly from a still-beating heart. We’ll only feed on blood bags or animal blood if we absolutely have to - for example, if we’re seriously wounded from sun exposure or major loss of blood. If we cannot consume high-quality blood, we might as well drink blood from Florida. That being said, I am sure there is still decent blood to drink in Florida. But I would bring a test kit anyway. But if you value your job and your life, you’ll find us each a human volunteer to feed from, preferably ones that match our specifications.”

“And where—”

“Yes, our ‘vampire victim’ preferences and sleep and feeding schedule will be noted on the internal system so pay very close attention to it. Use Tinder or other dating apps to find matches, if you must. We don’t care what you have to do to make it happen, you’ll get us our goddamn blood. And then, once we’re done, we’ll have a car waiting for our human volunteers so they can be taken home to sleep it off. The vampire’s kiss can be like an opiate, but their blood sugar tends to drop and they get very woozy afterwards. We’ve been doing really well so far. Our kill percentage has been decreasing lately with only one or two upward spikes here and there. We’d like to keep that going.”

“That’s quite a reli—”

“You are also expected to update our social media. Every. Single. Day. The social media schedule is on the internal system and you must adhere to it. Like biblical. Lestat and I are in charge of and personally manage our personal social media accounts, so you won’t have to worry about those, but you will be in charge of managing our business accounts, including our official page for our band. And we get very upset when our assistants don’t post to social media or they forget to post to social media or it’s not right. And you cannot just upload anything just willy-nilly. Lestat and I approve every social media post, so if it hasn’t been approved by either Lestat or I, then don’t upload it. Now, when we go to Paris in the fall for Fashion Week, you’re expected to double the amount of social media posts that you will already post as a minimum.”

“But the time difference…”

“What do you mean about time differences? Well, you’re not expected to sleep whilst Fashion Week is on. Qui dort pendant la Fashion Week, franchement? (Who sleeps during Fashion Week, seriously?) You’ll have to figure it out. Our photographers will be sending you the pictures that they take from all the shows and all the couture and all of that and you’re expected, once Lestat or I have approved them, to be uploading and retweeting and regraming around the clock. You’re also expected to filter out any derogatory comments or any sort of foul language that is on the social media pages. Yes, it’s pretty intense. What, you don’t think you’ll be able to do it? You’re also expected to take pictures that represent us on a daily basis and put those up on the Cloud for Lestat and I’s approval before posting.”

“Will I be provided a camera for this?”

“Yes, you’ll be given a camera that’s state of the art, top of the range that you’ll be expected to use. As I’m sure you know, Lestat and I also have our own fashion magazine - Veins & Vanity. Yup. It’s a bestseller. Even more popular than Daniel Molloy’s trashy novel about us.”

“Who’s Daniel Molloy?”

“What do you mean? You don’t know who Daniel Molloy is? Have you been living under a rock? Pas très maline, celle-là. (Not very smart, this one.) I don’t have time to explain it right now, but— As the new personal assistant, you’ll eventually be in charge of dropping off the book each night to our apartment. But Lestat and I are very private and we don’t like strangers in our house, so until we both decide you’re not a total psycho, Christine gets the lovely task of waiting around for the book. Let me show you an example.” You flip through a thick, spiral-bound book. “This is the book for this month. As you can see, it’s a mock-up of the newest edition of our magazine. This is usually assembled at 10 or 10:30 in the evening and you must wait around for it until then. A car will take you straight to our house and you let yourself in and you do not talk to anyone. Do not look at anyone. This is of the utmost importance. You must be invisible. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“So you open the door and you walk across the way, you hang our dry cleaning in our closets across from the staircase and you leave the book on the table with flowers. Do NOT go upstairs for any reason. That is the coffin room where Lestat and I sleep and it’s strictly prohibited to humans. We do not like our sleep to be disturbed. We are very light sleepers so if you try, we will hear your footsteps squeaking on the hardwood floors before you even make it halfway up the stairs. And when we’re tired, we’re not so kind. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You will quietly leave in the same car you arrive in. Then, in the morning, it will come back to you and be left on a desk - usually it’s Christine’s desk - and Lestat and I will leave notes, which are in blue and red sticky notes here. You will then drop it off at the Art Department where they can systematically go through Lestat’s and I’s notes and make changes. So, that is the book.”

You pause as realization dawns on you that Juliette has just been sitting there, listening to you but not typing or writing anything that you’ve said down.

“…Have you not been taking notes?” You rub your temples. “Oh my god, have I just been talking to myself this entire time?” You hold your hand up, stopping Juliette from attempting to explain herself. “No, don’t. I don’t care how good your memory is. Just…just…” You clench and unclench your fists in frustration, your nails digging into your palms.

Your cell phone rings.

“Look, let me take this phone call, you make notes, and…” You pick up the phone. “Y/N Lioncourt. Yes, hello, Christine. No. No, the Molloy interview is next week. …What time? Yes. I will let everybody know. Yes. Yes. Yes, take care, Christine. Salut, salut, salut.”

You hang up the phone.

“Okay. Something major has just happened. The Molloy interview, which was meant to be next week, has been moved to tonight at 2:30 after the concert. So people are panicking and my cell phone is going to be ringing off the hook. Les humains sont toujours si stressés.” (Humans are always so stressed out.)

You go into your recent calls and redial Christine’s number with a tap of your finger.

“Yes, Christine, me again. What time is the editor coming in? So we’ve got a little bit of time before the documentary crew arrives. Yes. Yes. Have you let Sophie know? Yes. And…yes. What about our jackets though? Lestat expressed he wanted to wear the chartreuse with the ostrich feathers… Oh, they’ve been dropped. Okay. That’s fine, I’ll make a note of that. Okay.”

You hang up but it isn’t even two minutes before your phone rings again.

“Y/N Lioncourt. Yes. I know, I know. Yes. Tonight 2:30. Yes. Yes. Can you remember to bring those belts as well? All right. Thank you.”

You hang up and focus your attention back on Juliette.

“Like I say, people are panicking. Now, you’re expected to note down everything that Lestat or I do and don’t like. Now, Lestat, if he likes it, he’ll nod his head once. If he nods twice, he really, really likes it. And if he shakes his head, he doesn’t like it, and if he purses his lips…disaster. I think there was only two records of a smile. And that was for Louis Vuitton way back in 1858 and Yves Saint Laurent in 1966. So you’ve got everything now? Well, there’s no time to explain anymore, this Molloy interview business is really…”

Your phone buzzes repeatedly, something that only happens if given an emergency call or alert.

“getting…out of hand… This isn’t good. Y/N Lioncourt. You’re joking. How long? Yes. I’ll let everyone know. Merde!”

Your fingers rapidly type a quick message to send out in a group text before you dial a number.

“This is not good. This is not good. Mia, it’s me. Lestat is coming in twenty minutes! Yes, I know he’s early! Can you let Sophie and the team know? Well, I can’t do it because I’m babysitting this new PA. Please, Mia. I’ll let you have my Prada bag. Thank you, Mia. Yes, salut.”

You hang up again and nearly jump out of your skin when you glance over and see Juliette still sitting in front of your desk.

“Oh my god, I totally forgot you were still here! That’s crazy. Yeah, sorry, babes. My peripheral vision is kind of selective. Like if my eyes get the vibe something is boring they just won’t tell my brain about it, you know what I mean? Yeah, that’s why I failed my driver’s test eight times. At a four way stop if the other drivers seem ugly, they’re basically invisible to me. All right. Lestat is coming in early, and he’s going to be here in twenty minutes, which means we need to get you ready because I can’t possibly let you in to see Lestat looking like that. Did you even look at yourself before you got dressed this morning? I don’t understand why you look like you rolled out of bed or something. Like you just said, ‘oh my god, I’m late, let me just go to work.’ Look, you can always be two minutes late in life. Nobody’s gonna tell you nothing if you’re two minutes late. You could put on a nicer top. It doesn’t take five years to find a nicer top and get out of your pajamas. I don’t know. Maybe it’s something like your culture. I’ve seen a lot of people on the streets just walking around in pajamas, going into the store to get something. So maybe it’s a cultural thing. Maybe the less attractive you look, the better your chance to find a mate or something? I don’t understand this dynamic, but I’m learning. Don’t worry, don’t worry. Calm, calm, calm. Les humains, vraiment tous pareils. (Humans, really all the same.) I’ll fix this. Right. What size are you?”

“Six.”

“Well, that will have to change if you want to continue working here. Four is the new six, you know. All right. I’ll see what I have available but… I can’t promise anything. What size shoe are you?” You get up from your desk and pace around before going into another room.

Juliette can hear you mumbling to yourself, “Everything is just everywhere! Danielle, have you got those, um, Prada pumps?” before you come back shortly with a pair of heels in your hand and a dress draped over your arm. “All right. This is all I could find in your size unfortunately. So I got you some nice heels here. They’re beige. They’re last season, but beggars can’t be choosers, right? Heels are a must. I don’t want to catch you in loafers or, god forbid, sneakers. So heels must be worn at all times.”

You lift a backpack and hold it up precariously by pinching your thumb and index finger together on the top loop, as if you don’t want to touch it at all. You look at Juliette. “What is this? Is this your bag? Oof. It’s hideous. Elle n’a donc vraiment aucun goût! (So she really doesn’t have any good taste!) Don’t let Lestat see you with that. Absolutely hideous. And I got you this Gucci dress. And…well, that’s all I could find for you.” You hand her the heels and dress. “Now, look, go and get changed.”

“Here?”

“Well, yes, here! We don’t have time for you to go wandering around the building.”

“But the walls are glass! Anyone could walk by and see me in my underwear!”

“Well, it doesn’t matter! We’ve had so many naked women and men in this office, more than an adult film sometimes. Now, come on, get on with it, I don't have time for this!”

Your phone rings again.

“Y/N Lioncourt. Yes, he’s coming in twenty minutes. Well, probably less than that now. Yes. You’ll need to send somebody out for ‘coffee’. Well, yes. This new PA is just a nightmare. You can get Jack to go? Yes, that’ll be great.”

You hang up again. You turn back to look at Juliette, now dressed in what you gave her.

“Are you done? Let me have a look. Well, that doesn’t go like that and let me just pull that down for you there. Seriously, do you even know how to dress yourself? That will do. It’s a little bit tight but…what about shoes? Good? All right. Let me have a look at your hair. Oh. We don’t have time for this. We really, really don’t. It looks like you’ve just stepped off the subway.”

“Well, yeah…”

“Why on earth did you take the subway? You can get a cab. Elle doit être tellement pauvre pour prendre le métro. (She has to be so poor if she is taking the subway.) Don’t worry. Let me just look at you. So, yeah, first priority is gonna be how you smell because I’m going to have to experience that the entire time I’m working on you and currently these are inhumane working conditions.”

“Do I really smell that bad?”

“Yeah, you smell like a gymnasium. Don’t worry, babes, we’ll take care of that. We’re gonna douse you in Cloud, everyone loves it. Yeah, it’s a universal favorite. It will make you smell like you’ve been in a bubble bath your entire life up until this very moment. I got enough Cloud to make a crowd scatter.” You spritz the perfume all around Juliette.

“Ouch!” She blinks and rubs at her eyes.

“I got it in your eyes? Close them. Oh my god, so much better already. Next up is your hair. Oh my gosh, I love your hair! Um, is it okay if I touch it?”

“Sure?”

“Cool, thanks. It’s so pretty. It’s so soft. It’s gorgeous. I like this color for you. It’s very nice, very good.”

“Thank—”

“But…uh…” You rub her hair between your pointer finger, middle finger, and thumb. “Oh, it’s very dry. Oh my god, it’s very dry! It’s not healthy at all! Can I tell you that? It’s not at all healthy. Do you use any product on it? Do you use anything to help it? Like some kind of oils or cream? Something?”

“Not really?”

“So like…what kind of products do you use on your hair usually?”

“Pantene.”

“Pantene? Babe, you might as well be using Nair. What the hell? It’s very straight. You must use a straightener like every day. Yeah. And yet it’s so frizzy somehow. I hate frizzy hair and yours is kind of hay-like. C’est comme de la paille. (It’s like straw.) Like a frail piece of straw that’ll break from a gust of wind. It’s not good. How many times do you try to straighten your hair? Okay, I’m just asking because the more I touch it the worse it gets. Look at it, it’s so thin. It’s so thin. I feel like if I touch it too much, it’s going to snap. It’s going to snap.” You curl a strand that falls out around your pointer fingers and pull. “It makes a sound too! It sounds like plastic. Look at that! It’s plastic.” You let it fall away and shake off your fingers. “It’s quite disgusting in my opinion. No offense.”

“But you just said—”

“I know what I said. I thought I liked it, but it doesn’t look very good up close. It’s like one of those abstract paintings. From afar, it makes sense and I can see the picture, but when I come close to it, it’s like…why don’t I understand where the paint strokes are going? I don’t understand this. What is happening here? Like from afar, it looks very nice, you look very good, very put together. But then when I come close, your hair looks like trash. And when I touch the texture of your hair, it feels like it will break. Lestat and I have curly hair too, so no hate towards curly hair, but this is…interesting. I don’t know…”

“Do you use anything on your hair to get it so curly?”

“No, ours is natural. Yeah. In our family a lot of us had blonde and/or curly hair and we didn’t dye it or perm it or use heat on it. Yeah, if you watch him closely, you’ll notice Lestat’s hair is like bleachy blond. It’s so light that sometimes it appears white under fluorescent lights. He takes after our mother, Gabrielle. Lestat and I’s hair is all natural and we don’t have to use anything on it. It just dries curly. That’s why it’s so healthy. Oui, nous avons de la chance. (Yes, we are so lucky.) That’s why Lestat’s grew past his shoulders and mine grew nearly to my butt by the time we were changed. We cut it and it just grows back the same way. Yeah. That’s why we have a lot of it. Lestat and I actually did each other’s hair today. Yeah, he did my hair for me so it’s like perfect today and I just don’t want anyone to touch it. But yours is like…very thin. So thin. And the amount of frizz and hair damage you have is ridiculous, even though you definitely don’t dye it or style it or anything whatsoever. So how you managed to get it looking this bad…honestly, an enigma. It’s really disturbing actually. Have you ever thought about dying it? Yeah, ‘cause the closer I look at the color of your hair, it’s very…off. Yeah, the… What do you call this color? Strawberry blonde?”

“Yes, it’s—”

“The strawberry blonde moment is just not doing it for you. I don’t like it. Again I use the analogy of the painting because, from afar, it looks good, but, up close, it looks like ramen noodles. I don’t know how to explain it. Do you know what I mean? Non, elle ne doit pas comprendre. (No, she can’t understand.) Like ramen noodles in the box and you put it in the hot water. And it’s yellow and hard. That’s what…yeah. I don’t know. I just think of you as more of a soft caramel color. Especially a little bit lighter at the ends I think would look really good later down the road. Well, for now, I think you have to just cut it all off. Just go short and start over. I feel like a lot of split ends are here. Yeah, you have a lot of split ends, oh my god. You’re full of them. Just take it all off and stop using heat on it. Just stop it all. Don’t do anything anymore to it. Just don’t touch it. Don’t touch it anymore. Do you ever go to a hairdresser to cut your hair?”

“Of c-”

“You know what? I’m gonna hook you up with my stylist, Celeste. Yeah, she’s amazing with hair. She does mine and Lestat’s and she’s just amazing. I think you’re gonna love it. I think just a little bit of layering because you’re very much all one length here. Yeah, that was like so…2005. Yeah, you gotta change it up a little. Put some layers in and I think it’s gonna look really good. Some nice face framing layers and, like I said, a nice caramel color. Like a chocolate at the top and, as it goes down, it gets lighter and lighter. We’ll go to Celeste and you don’t talk to her. Let me talk and I’ll tell her what to do because this is, in my opinion, unacceptable. I don’t understand why you wanna keep it this way. Elle est donc aveugle. (So she is blind.) Do you like it like that? Do you like it looking frizzy and breaking? Because if you like it like that, you just keep it, you know I don’t care. It’s really none of my business what you wanna do with your hair. It’s just not a good impression in my opinion.”

“No, no, I ca—”

“No offense, but it looks like you really don’t take care of yourself at all. It just gives a wrong impression like you don’t care about yourself and when you have that impression like, ‘I don’t care about myself’ and you go out like, ‘I don’t care about myself, so why should I care about other people.’ Do you understand? So I think this is something that you need to work on. Because I don’t like when people just look like they don’t really care about anything. Because it’s like, then why are you even here? Why are you here if you don’t care about anything at all? Do you know what I mean? If you don’t care, just go live on a mountain or something. Don’t come and live in society because there’s certain standards that we want and have to uphold. And this is not it. This is not it. You use your hair as a safety net but it’s not gonna save you from a bullet or a train, so it’s not really a safety net. So for today, I have the lovely challenge of making your chemically damaged hair look passable for Lestat. Yikes! I really don’t even know where to begin. Just kidding! Yes, I do! We’re gonna start with detangling spray. A nice spritz of this is gonna make all of those millions and billions of little tangles so much easier to manage. Close your eyes this time, okay? Perfect. I love this detangling spray so much. The tangles are working out like butter. Brush, brush, brush it all out. Brush, brush, brush it all out. The next step is gonna be this hair oil. Thick and full, Biotin and Collagen weightless oil mix. It’s got vitamin B7, Biotin, Collagen, hydrolyzed protein. All kinds of goods that your pathetic little strands have never seen in their lives. This is gonna make your hair look so silky and healthy instead of thirsty and tragic. Gonna work that through. As far as the style - Oh, god. What if we just like, grab a stand from either side and clip them together in the back? That can be pretty foolproof. I think I’ve got a clip over here. Yeah, this’ll be cute on you. Let me grab a strand from the right side of your face. Little bigger than that. Grab a strand from the left side of your face and then meet them together in the back, grab that clip and clip those together. Oh my gosh, so much better already, but still a ways to go. On progresse, on progresse. (We make progress, we make progress.) Then there’s your makeup. It’s not doing you any favors. Like really bland. Wait - are you even wearing any makeup?”

“No…”

“No?” You gasp. “Nothing at all? Oh, wow! Okay.” You interlace your fingers together in contemplation. “You’re actually pretty cute - in like a weird kind of way - like an armadillo! But yeah, cute. Okay. This has me rethinking everything. I thought we were starting from an entirely different place. If this is the blank slate we’re working with, there’s actually hope! We can get you to like a solid…6.5. I’m serious! But it’s gonna take hard work to get there. Blood, sweat, and tears, babe. But it’ll be worth it. I’m gonna pull out all my best tricks. Have you ever taken care of your skin? It looks just…dull…but I think I can bring it to life because, even though it is dull, it also has this perfection to it that not many have. This is good. This is good.”

You pat Juliette’s skin with cleansing pads.

“I’m going to use products from Lestat’s and I’s makeup brand. It’s called Bloodlust. I’m just trying to cover up some of the imperfections so that when I style you next time, I can have a better idea of what the final product is going to be. First we’re gonna moisturize you up nice and good because your skin texture is like asphalt. Let me grab a beauty blender. Hydrating your skin, giving it that gorgeous, gorgeous glow it desperately needs. Making sure that the foundation is gonna have a nice surface to stick to. Wow, your skin is seriously drinking this up, it’s so dry. Have you like, ever moisturized before in your life? You’re like a freak of nature. No offense. Les humains peuvent être des créatures si étranges de nos jours. (Humans can be such strange creatures nowadays.) ‘Kay. Now we’re gonna plop on the foundation with that same beauty blender. Just layering on more and more and more and more and more until we cannot see even a single pore of your actual skin anymore because it’s giving very much Nosferatu. And now, thanks to me, it’s giving very much Malibu! Let’s pick the perfect blush shade for you. Let me get a closer look at your skin, actually. Okay, so even with the foundation on, I can still tell that you’re working with a pretty warm undertone here. So we want something pretty and peachy rather than like a pastel pink. Got it! I know just the one! Blending that over your cheeks. Oh yeah, it’s bringing some life into your face in a big way. C’est pas encore ça, mais c’est déjà mieux!” (We’re not done yet, but it’s already better!)

You open your eyeshadow palette. “For your eyes we’re gonna do something kind of light because your eyes are actually one of your nicest features.”

“Thank you?”

“Yeah, so we want to highlight them, not hide them. Let’s take this nice bronze and just do like a nice subtle wash through the outer corner into the crease. Do you even know what eyeshadow is? Ridiculous. Just add a bit of depth and sparkle and let’s pick up a highlight color and dip that in your inner corners. And then a touch more sparkle in the middle. Now we’re getting somewhere. Next is the mascara. Just a little tip from me to you: Mascara is the most important step of makeup. I swear even if you don’t have time to do anything else, mascara is the one thing you cannot skip. Like if I was human and saw a bear lunging towards me, I’d take the time between then and my mauling to apply a fresh coat. If that gives you any idea of the importance. Never, ever, ever let me catch you outside of your house without mascara.”

“I don’t really—”

“Like even if you go to the gym, I want you to wear that because you can’t just like, be associated with me or my brother if you’re gonna look like you just rolled out of the trash, you know what I mean? The most important thing to remember about this job is that you must look impeccable at all times. Your hair, your makeup…flawless all the time. Lestat and I get very upset if we see people looking drab or unkempt or unmade up. So you must look good at all times. Just blink when I say. Wow, cute. Can you look up for me? Oh and, next time, we have to do something about your eyebrows ‘cause they’re just all over the place. Yeah they’re just a little bit too bushy for my tastes personally but if you like looking like an orangutan, that’s fine. It’s up to you. Oh yeah, I could totally bring you to my esthetician. Or I could just do them for you like I’m such a pro. When I was human, I did Lestat’s, I did my mother’s. I do it for my human band mates and friends. J’espère qu’elle ne croit pas que nous allons devenir amies.” (I hope she doesn’t believe we’ll become friends.)

You check your phone.

“Well. We’re out of time, so this is as good as it’s going to get. It’s showtime. Stay after the concert and I’ll introduce you to Lestat before the Molloy interview. Don’t worry, I won’t let him bite or kill you on your first day.”

Unseen, Juliette watches the entire show from the sidelines. Your set exceeds the usual 45 minutes or hour most concerts are, on account of you and Lestat deciding to play at least three encores. After the concert, Juliette is waiting for you in the hallway that connects the main stage with the backstage area. Finally you exit, your bass slung over your back and Lestat beside you, your human bandmates somewhere else, probably the bar. Your hair and makeup are still flawless since, as vampires, you don’t sweat. Having slipped out of the Prada heels for comfort’s sake, she had been casually leaning against the wall for the duration of the show since nobody would notice her in the dark. But she straightens up from her slouched position immediately, quickly slipping back into the heels and smoothing out her hair and the dress you loaned her before either you or Lestat can notice as you meet her offstage. Phew. That was close.

“Mr. Lioncourt,” Juliette says, using every muscle in her body to speak up with conviction and not shake or twitch from anxiety in his presence. Although you promised you’d protect her today, that protection may expire eventually. She knows that you and Lestat hate weakness, and she cannot show it in his or your presence if she hopes to keep this job.

“Yes? Can I help you?” With his arm slung around your shoulders lazily, he furrows his brow. Arching it questioningly, he barely makes eye contact with her and instead focuses his attention on you, as if waiting for an explanation as to why this human has been allowed backstage, is standing in front of him and you, and is addressing him.

“Well… I’m Juliette, your new assistant. Ms. Lioncourt hired me earlier this evening,” Juliette explains.

“You’re the new PA? You’ve got to be joking.” While keeping an eye on Juliette, he turns his head halfway to whisper in your ear, “Ma soeur, avons-nous eu si peu de candidats qu’il a fallu que tu choisisses celle-là?” (Sister, did we get so few of candidates that you had to pick this one?)

“I’m sorry if I’m not what you were expecting but… Mr. Lioncourt, I need to tell you that I absolutely love your yellow jacket. The bird feathers are a nice touch. Very stylish. Very you.”

“Are you colorblind? It’s not yellow, it’s chartreuse. And they’re not just bird feathers, they’re ostrich feathers.”

“Are they real?”

“Do you know anything about fashion?”

“I wouldn’t—” Juliette catches your warning glance. “Yes, of course I do.”

“Then you know that, of course, they’re real. I only wear clothes made out of genuine leather and fur because I’m all about being genuine in my music and my personal life and I want what I feel on the inside to reflect on the outside. Many animals had to die, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make if it’s for the noble cause of making me look this good.”

“Do you wear clothing made from endangered species too?”

“Sometimes. My sister and I both still have articles that were made from now extinct species too. But we were around long before those species ever became endangered or extinct. The failure of your kind to preserve and protect your environment is not our fault nor our problem. Enough chit chat. Onto the main issue: Let me have a look at you. Turn.”

Juliette turns in a circle very quickly.

“No. Slower.”

Juliette turns in a circle again, this time much slower than before.

Lestat scoffs in annoyance at her inability to follow clear directions. “Just stay still.” He leaves your side to walk in a circle around Juliette, looking her up and down with his hand on his chin, his fingers moving over his mouth occasionally. He doesn’t look away from her as he switches to French, once again talking about her as if she isn’t there. He clicks his tongue, as if tsk, tsk, tsking. “Vraiment, ma soeur? C’est tout ce que tu as trouvé? Elle ne sera jamais à la hauteur. Son visage passe encore, mais il va falloir qu’elle apprenne à s’habiller et se coiffer dignement.” (Really, sister? Is it all you have been able to find? She’ll never be good enough. Her face is okayish, but she will have to learn how to dress and do her hair with dignity.)

He switches back to English. “Well. Juliette, is it? I hope you know you are very lucky to get this position. Anyone would kill to be standing where you’re standing right now. We had over one hundred applicants for this position and, trust me, it was not easy whittling them down, I must say. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be here. I always hire the same boy or girl…stylish, slender, of course…worships us and the band. But so often, they’ve turned out to be…I don’t know…disappointing and, um…stupid. So you, who probably has an impressive resume and made a big speech about your so-called work ethic… my sister must think you’ll be different. And since I left her in charge of hiring the new PA this time around, I guess I’ll just have to live with her decision.” Lestat then looks at you and waves you both off. "Vas-y, ma soeur. Prends le risque. Embauche la grosse intello.” (Go ahead, Sister. Take a chance. Hire the smart, fat girl.)

On the other side of the large and thick industrial double doors, you and Lestat, thanks to your super hearing, can hear Daniel and the documentary crew talking, clearly growing impatient.

“The car’s been on the lot for hours, man.”

“Hey, look, if you want, I can have somebody knock on the window.”

“I, uh…I think they…”

“What? What? You think what?”

“I think they’re entertaining somebody right now,” someone says, pointing out that he saw you and Lestat earlier, and Lestat had bite marks and hickeys on his chest while you had a new girl next to you.

“Do we have insurance for homicide?”

“You know what, we had three deaths on the Banger Sisters, don't worry about it.”

You and Lestat push open the doors and make your entrance.

“That's them. Jesus Christ, look at them,” Daniel says in awe.

You gesture with your arm for Juliette to not follow you and to instead wait on the sidelines with the rest of the human crew while you and Lestat walk to the matching black leather chairs waiting for you.

“Okay, let's go. Mr. and Ms. Lioncourt, hi. Mark Johnson. I'm the executive producer. We’ve talked on the phone a couple of times.”

“We're really excited about the...documentary...” Daniel trails off awkwardly.

You and Lestat leave Mark hanging, not making any attempt to shake his hand. You can smell that he didn’t properly wash his hands and instead just used hand sanitizer. Disgusting. Is basic hygiene really a lost art among humans? You stare at him blankly, as if bored already from listening to him speak.

“Je ne me souviens pas de lui, est-ce que tu te souviens de lui, ma soeur?” (I don't remember him. Do you remember him, Sister?)

“No. Usually I have a memory like a steel trap but we talk to so many people every day, and, clearly, this human didn’t leave much of an impression or impact. Comme la plupart d’entre eux malheureusement.” (Like the majority of them, unfortunately.)

“…Okay.” Mark awkwardly puts his arm back down.

“Hey, man. Thanks for the tickets last night. Great show,” Daniel praises. His deadpan voice leaves you unsure if he’s being sincere or sarcastic.

“You have 45 minutes and they’re gone.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“This is Christine Claire, Mr. And Ms. Lioncourt's lawyer.”

“Hair and makeup now.”

“Hi, I'm Tami—”

“Hi, I’m Sarah—”

You and Lestat both look up and pull your heads back so their makeup brushes and hands don’t touch your faces or hair. Lestat’s hair is already giving Michael Hutchence, while yours is giving Patricia Morrison. And your makeup, like your outfits, is already on point. You don’t need assistance when you’ve already achieved perfection, thank you very much.

“Do we look like we need you?”

Both makeup artists pause for a second and then retreat.

“They’re completely booked. No. Don’t even talk to me about it again for the next two months. They’re both booked.”

Lestat looks to his right. His shoulders slump as he deeply exhales and irritably taps his fingers on the armrest of the chair. He smacks his lips. “…There's a goblet on the table.”

“You don't like the goblet? Can we get rid of the goblet, please?” Daniel asks the crew.

“C'est tellement kitsch," (It’s so tacky) you say so only Lestat will understand.

"C'est de mauvais goût,” (It’s bad taste) Lestat concours.

A crew member takes the goblet away. Now that that cheap Party City Halloween decoration is gone, you can get on with it.

“Thank you. We need to wire you both for sound, I hope you don't mind.”

You and Lestat shrug.

“So the camera we're gonna be using is called an Interrotron. I'll be sitting here. You'll see my face in the camera like, uh, like we're talking to each other, and you don't have to just stare into an empty camera lens,” Daniel explains.

You and Lestat allow yourselves to be mic’d, but when the humans invade your personal space to put the microphones on your clothes, your vampire hearing can detect the fluid, or lack thereof, coursing through their bodies. You don’t have a problem with the person assisting you, but Lestat recoils in disgust, crinkling his nose. “Your sound man is dehydrated.”

“We’ll, uh, okay, we'll get him some water. Get him some water please.”

“Je ne te savais pas si attentionné avec les humains, Lestat. Cela me rendrait presque jalouse.” (I didn’t know you were so considerate of humans, Lestat. It almost makes me jealous.)

“Tu sais bien qu’ils ne m’intéressent pas, ma soeur.” (You know very well that I don’t care about them, sister.)

“All right, let's fucking go, people.”

“43 minutes.“

“Shut her the fuck up,” Daniel grumbles.

“We’re rolling! Quiet on set!”

“Take one, take one. And…action! Okay, we're gonna start. Listen, could you state your names for the camera?”

You and Lestat look up from the two copies of Daniel’s book you were leafing through.

“Justin Bieber.”

“Kylie Jenner.”

You and Lestat close your copies of Daniel’s book and place them on your laps, tapping your fingers against the hardcover, subtly nodding your heads.

“I see you have my book there, what do you think of...” Daniel starts retching. “I'm sorry. Excuse me… Give me a second here.”

“Daniel, are you okay?”

With your pointer fingers arched up, you and Lestat listen to Daniel’s retching as if it’s music to your ears. That should be answer enough for him to know what you and Lestat think of his book. The retching and the voices of the crew become background noise.

“I am the Vampire Lestat.”

“I am the Vampire Y/N.”

“Why are we retching?”

“We’re immortal.”

“I'm not doing it. It’s them,” Christine whispers.

“More or less.”

More retching.

“The light of the sun.”

“Can somebody get a glass of water?”

“The sustained heat of an intense fire. These things might destroy us. But then again, they might not.”

~

Take two.

Your eyes flicker back and forth between the camera and Daniel in front of you and J. Feldman, the first cameraman standing off to the side with the crew. The rest of the human crew either don’t see what you see, or they do and they’re just pretending to be oblivious. To be fair, you didn’t notice it during the first take either. But now that you’ve seen it, you can't unsee it. Not wanting to make a scene, you try to ignore him, but you’re obviously distracted. Lestat is the first to pick up on it, and he discreetly looks in the direction where your eyes are flickering to, but he doesn’t see what you see. If he did, there’d be a bloodbath to mop up. You make eye contact with Daniel and try to focus on finishing answering his question. “But...let's just say we, uh...we-we did a lot of writing. This is just, um...really just, uh… It's so special to be in Santa Carla, California - The Murder Capital of the World - again! The lights, the music, the energy, the people - It’s easily been my favorite venue spot so far on any tour. It surpassed our concert in Death Valley for me, which, before now, I thought was an impossible feat. Hmm.” Fuck it, you think to yourself. Your team and Daniel will just have to be okay with doing yet another reshoot.

“Ma soeur, est-ce que tout va bien?” (Sister, is everything all right?)

“Uh, I'm sorry, Feldman, what the fuck is that?” You ask bluntly, your tone laced with a bite to it as you stand up from your seat and lock eyes with the first cameraman. Everyone around him steps to the side, creating space between themselves and him in case shit is about to hit the fan or something is about to go down.

“What?” He furrows his brows in confusion when he looks at you, like a deer caught in headlights. Too scared that you’ll pounce on him like a wolf and latch your fangs into his jugular if he fully looks away from you for even half a second, he frantically glances from the corners of his eyes at either side of him, and sees from his peripheral vision that everyone has put a great deal of distance between himself and you. They are looking at the two of you with fear and apprehension in their eyes.

“What do you mean ‘what?’ That shitstain of a tattoo on your forearm. What the fuck do you have written there? ‘Armand told the truth’?”

Hearing those words, Lestat jumps up from his seat before the cameraman can blink. Lestat agreed to this documentary because he took issue with his portrayal in the book and wanted to set the record straight. Not because he wanted to invalidate everything Louis said but because when he read Interview with the Vampire, he was like, ‘ARMAND SAID I DID WHAT???’ and was angrily ripping out pages from his copy. He was annoyed with Armand's version of him and not Louis's (though you’re sure he doesn't agree with everything Louis said either.) Now this poor cameraman has two angry vampires standing on either side of him. You in front of him, and Lestat behind him. Just as enraged as you, Lestat is seething, his pupils just as dilated as yours. You haven’t seen him this angry since an incident during your tour in Death Valley.

~

You and Lestat pulled up to the auditorium in your shiny Porsche, dressed to the nines and exuding an air of money and status, ready to perform, but the security guy wouldn’t let you through at the gate. And Lestat was getting furious. The guy was like, ‘sir, miss, I can’t find your names on the list,’ and Lestat was steaming red because his ego was bruised. He’s a legend. Everyone knows his name. Anywhere Lestat goes, people flock to him, asking for selfies and autographs. He should be on the goddamn list. And even if he isn’t, he should be allowed through anyway because he’s Lestat fucking de Lioncourt. He’s a vampire aristocrat and rockstar, nowhere is inaccessible to him. He was really mad and was like, ‘why do you need my name?!’ so finally the guy was like, ‘sir, how do you spell your name?’ And Lestat went, ‘F-a-m-o-u-s!’ and then just hit the gas, breaking the barricade. It turned out the security guard couldn’t find your names on the list due to a spelling error, and Lestat’s name was listed as ‘Lesander Lionsourd’ (Lionsourd meaning deaflion).

~

His anger now is that times a billion. He is ready to tear out J. Feldman’s throat or rip his arms off. You make eye contact with Lestat and subtly shake your head at him. If you were anybody else, he’d ignore you and just go ahead and decapitate the man. He lived by the motto of ‘don’t ask for permission, ask forgiveness later.’ But for you, and only for you, he’ll be patient. Not just because you’re his sister and he loves you, but because he understands that you signaling for him to wait doesn’t mean you’ll show mercy. You don’t want this man dead. Yet. You want answers first.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you think that because we were born French on our father’s side and Italian on our mother’s that we can’t read English? Who tattooed that on you?” You ask.

“Uh, Joel Emerson, I think.”

“You think? Where does he tattoo?”

“O-over at Inkspire in L.A.”

“Christine, get that tattoo shop on the phone. And if Joel’s not working today, find his personal cell phone and call that.”

Christine quickly Googles the shop and dials their phone number. She hands her phone to you while it’s ringing. You hold it to your ear while glaring daggers at the soon-to-be former first cameraman.

“Hello, is Joel working today? I’d like to talk to him. I don’t care that he’s with a client right now. Tell him to put his machine down and come to the phone. It’s urgent. This is Y/N Lioncourt. Yeah, I thought so. Thank you. Joel, why? You fucking asshole. How could you agree to tattoo that on someone? I don’t care. I don’t care about ‘consenting adult clients’ and ‘it’s their money and their body, so they can get whatever they want’. I’m going to police people’s bodies if they’re going to do stupid shit like this! Because this is offensive and unacceptable to Lestat and I! You have no fucking idea who Armand is or what he’s done. You and every other human on the planet don’t even know half of it. You weren’t there because you weren’t even fucking born, so you can’t know! You can’t even begin to comprehend what the 18th and subsequent centuries were like. He’s a fucking cult leader, for fuck’s sake. Did you know that? Have you tattooed anything else relating to Armand on anybody else? No? What about the other artists in your shop? No? Are you sure? You better not be lying to me because if I look on your and your coworkers’ Instagrams and see another tattoo showing love or support of Armand, whether it’s his face, his name, or any more of that ‘Armand was right, Armand told the truth’ bullshit, I will get our lawyers involved and they will eviscerate you in court and take your shop and your tattoo license from you. I will not hesitate to do the same with other tattoo artists and tattoo shops. And don’t think deleting posts will save your ass. The internet is forever and my lawyer will use the Wayback Machine or find some other way to dig up those photos even if you delete them. Understand? Good. You won’t be hearing from me, Lestat, or our legal team so long as there won’t be any further issues. Have a good rest of your day. Bye.” You give Christine her phone back and she’s already typing away, working on keeping tabs on Inkspire and any other tattoo shop in the state for damage control.

“Uh...”

“And you! You amateur fuck. You’re fired.”

“What?”

“You heard me. There’s obviously a conflict of interest here, so you can pack up your shit and go. I want you to leave.”

“The building?”

“No, not just the building. I want you to leave the state.”

“I can’t just move to a different state! My friends, my family, and my entire life is here!”

“That’s not my problem. You should’ve thought of that before permanently scarring your body with a steaming pile of shit. I hope, for your sake, you either get it lasered off or covered up with a better tattoo. Then maybe, just maybe, you can move back. I am being lenient by letting you off with a warning and letting you walk away with your life. If either I or Lestat see you again and that still isn’t gone or covered, then we won’t be. I’m going to chop your fucking arm off with Lestat’s tiny pocket axe. I’m the more merciful of the Lioncourts, so it’ll feel like a massage compared to what Lestat will do to you. Go. Now.”

He runs away crying with his tail between his legs, urine running down his pant legs. You and Lestat scrunch up your nose at the foul odor. Disgusting. He’s lucky he didn’t get any of it on your Chanel boots or Lestat’s Christian Louboutin’s. Although you can afford it, it’d be a shame to ruin such expensive and stylish designer outfits with blood, guts and sinew. While there are frantic calls for a cleanup and reset, you and Lestat storm off to your dressing room, uncaring that you’re leaving Daniel behind, unsure on what to do or if there’ll even be an interview tonight. You pace back and forth in there, trying to get your breathing back under control. Once your eyes return to normal, you text Juliette that she doesn’t need to worry about picking up dinner. You and Lestat will get it yourselves. You could use the air and will be back in an hour. Lestat and you send Christine a similar text, telling her you’ll still do the Molloy interview, but you’re going out to feed and won’t be back for an hour. You both need to cool off and blow off some steam by going on a hunt. You both need a fucking meal before going back in there to attempt the interview again. Now would be a good time for Daniel and the crew to break for lunch. In the meantime, she should find another cameraman to replace Feldman. You and Lestat change into more “casual” clothes that you don’t care about getting messy. “Casual” for you meaning “old” designer clothes from last season.

[ririchanva]

//Ask and you shall receive :3 Actually, a lot of you seemed to enjoy this one so I'mma continue to add some more of this :D LEZZGO~

This one will include: Middle School Drama, mentions of bullying, Happy&Healthy!Inko, Alive!Emelie, Humbled!Felix, Chloe Sugar, Kim Salt, Max Salt, Marinette still being Marinette, snippets of Derision, teensy bits of Chloe crushing on Izuku, A MAJOR BUTTLOAD of everyone crushing on Izuku, Adrien growing up into a little shit, and more~! Lemme know if I should make a part three~?

✲ || Part Un || ✲

So...previously, we've stopped on Izuku, Marinette and Chloe as little children being an inseparable trio. That is, until we get to the Agreste and Graham de Vanily family.

Canon-wise, Chloe knew of Adrien and Felix as kids. So if I'm doing my math right, this is before Emilie's "disappearance" and Felix's dad didn't get offed just yet.

In short, Chloe one day invites Izuku and Marinette to visit Adrien since her parents and his are friends.

Adrien is always happy to make new friends besides Chloe.

And it was honestly friendship at first sight when meeting both Izuku and Marinette. (It was like fate~ *gets smacked*)

Adrien immediately locks into Izuku's energy about heroes.

The two clicked much more than Izuku did with Marinette and Chloe, it sort of made the girls a little jealous.

Marinette doesn't fall for Adrien this time around

Gabriel and Emelie are introduced to Izuku and Marinette by Adrien, and honestly it surprised both the Agreste on how well behaved children they were. Especially when they were dreading they would be another Chloe.

But EVEN MORE SURPRISING was how Chloe was also well behaved around them. Where was the usually spoilt brat that loved to boss their son (and sometimes Felix) around?

Emilie wanted to meet the infamous nanny of Chloe's.

And she did...and she adored the woman too.

Emelie begged for Gabriel to hire her as Adrien's nanny too. Why, if Inko Midoriya managed to tame a brat like Chloe, Adrien could perhaps grow into a happy child as well. As much as Emilie and Gabriel wish they could spend more time with their son...their careers are at their peak. Someone had to watch over their son (Nathalie and Gorilla were already having their hands full).

Thanks to Inko's rep of being a full-time babysitter for rich kids like Chloe and Adrien, this meant that Inko's life is set.

Her mental state is at peace, no guilt about raising Izuku and worrying over their next meal and bills. This meant Inko maintained her physical body and kept herself healthy, not to mention Emelie and Sabine made sure the woman was surrounded by a good circle of friends to go out for walks, shopping and pretty much having a life. Not to mention Emelie trying to set Inko up on dates.

Meanwhile, Izuku got to be around his new friends more.

This also caused Chloe to accidentally call Inko, Mom.

"Thank you for mending my dress, Mommy!"

Inko paused from tidying her sewing kit and looked over at the seven year old girl for a moment, blinking her surprised green eyes. All she did was just fix the princess dress that Chloe had accidentally ripped when running around with Izuku, Marinette and Adrien playing pretend Knights and Dragons.

"Ah...y-you're welcome, Chloe-chan. "

Inko didn't know how to process this at first. Perhaps Chloe said it by accident. It was a one time thing...right?

Alas, Chloe continued to call her Mom , to the point that one day Chloe asks innocently:

"I want Mlle. Inko to be my Mommy."

"You can't, Chloe-chan. Because she's my Mom." - Izuku

"Well, what if Chloe and you get married? That way, Chloe could be part of the family :D" - Adrien.

"....Izuku, let's get married." "EHHHHHH?!"

Meeting Felix Graham de Vanily (as if he would keep his father's last name of Fathom) was...confusing, at first.

Izuku and Marinette, like Chloe, mistaken him for Adrien.

When Amelie meets the children, she was cooing on how adorable Izuku and Marinette were.

However, Felix wasn't impressed.

Although that all changed when Izuku played chess against him.

"You...you beat me?" - Felix

"Er, was I not supposed to" - Izuku

Either way, this impressed Adrien and Marinette, and Chloe had to gloat and laugh at Felix's defeat.

Needless to say, this sort of humbled Felix, and both he and his mother visited from time to time. And in turn, Izuku gets invited to London to visit them along with Adrien, Marinette and Chloe.

Fast forward in time, to the start of collège.

Chloe may not be Marinette's tormentor anymore, didn't mean she stayed nice to everyone.

It had to take Adrien and Izuku to stop her tirade at times.

Speaking of, Adrien manages to go to normal public school with them this time around too.

It took a lot of convincing, but it was mostly Inko talking with Emilie about how Adrien should be surrounded by other kids his age. Thus, it made Emelie also persuade Gabriel to send Adrien to school. Although that didn't stop the modelling gigs, advance fencing, language and business classes after school.

But with Chloe no longer being the school bully...someone else takes her place.

Enter Lê Chiến Kim, and his lackey, Max Kanté.

Typical jock behavior, Kim looked to his bullying as pranks. And in no way does he think what he does is wrong.

And his main target?

"Heeeyyyyyy Green Beans~"

Izuku felt the dread each time he encounters Kim, reminding him of his days with Kacchan and his little gang.

It didn't help that Marinette had a stupid crush on Kim FOR SOME REASON.

"He makes me laugh." - Marinette

Note, she doesn't know Kim bullies Izuku. Or is oblivious to it.

Then again, the bullying doesn't look like it's harming Izuku on surface level. As said before, it looked like small playful pranks.

But Chloe knew better.

And had to step in to defend Izuku, The Audrey Bourgeois way.

This caused a ripple effect of students now thinking Chloe was someone not to mess with and stay away from, but rumours of Chloe and Izuku being a couple spread like wild fire (thanks to Kim and Max). Chloe doesn't care...but Izuku did.

"We're just friends!" (Oh boy, here we go again)

Despite the rumours, Izuku managed to become popular.

He was dubbed as the "Chloe Bourgeois Tamer" considering he tends to stop Chloe from going too far on things.

The first one to extend a hand of friendship was Alix Kubdel.

"Kim's a jerk. And respect on pulling the reigns on Queen Bee over there. Wanna hang out with me and my friends?"

Izuku tries to correct that Chloe was not all that bad, but he gives up when he knew Alix wasn't listening to him

This is where Izuku meets Nathaniel and Sabrina.

Izuku notices Nathaniel drawing in his book, and his eyes shine when seeing sketches of various heroes.

"Is that All Might in his silver prime?"

Nathaniel Kurtzberg is surprised to say the least. He was expecting to be mocked or teased by his obsession with drawing heroes. He was used to being called an art nerd by Kim on the daily.

So imagine to his shock that Izuku asks for a commision from him to draw All Might.

They become close friends after that.

Sabrina Raincomprix was someone that just hung with Nathaniel and Alix quietly because she didn't know where she fits in with the class. (With Chloe not being a bully and always around Adrien, Izuku and Marinette, the two never really interacted.)

Izuku tried to befriend her, even saying he admired that her father was Chief of Police. And soon talked about things that apparently had in common such as academics and dreams of the future.

Sabrina crushes hard after the interactions, to the point that she immediately follows him around, just as she did with Chloe in canon.

"Did you want me to help you with your homework? Should I carry your bag for you? Oh! I could get your lunch for you--"

Izuku felt guilty of Sabrina practically trying to do things for him, and he tried to dissuade her from doing so.

Izuku sees Sabrina almost about to cry, not like being rejected. He could never handle girls crying.

And so, he just lets Sabrina do as she pleases.

Marinette finds this cute, and even tries to find ways to set Izuku and Sabrina up as a couple.

Which, in turn, makes Adrien also participate. Not because he thinks Izuku and Sabrina are a cute couple. But it was fun to tease Izuku's misfortune of having a girl crushing on him.

Adrien, please, your Chat is showing TOO EARLY.

Chloe, on the other hand, was furious.

"Who does this nobody think she is?!"

Unlike in canon...Sabrina actually has a backbone.

She actually gains more confidence since interacting with Izuku, especially with his pep talk on his dreams of wanting to be a hero and how his optimism rubbed off on her.

To the point that she bravely declares Chloe as her love rival.

And Chloe accepts this, because Izuku was hers.

Adrien, once more, can't help but tease.

"Wow, you're so popular..." "Be silent, Agreste..."

Bonus: For the lols, Adrien anonymously created a "Izuku Midoriya Fan Club" and it surprised both him and Izuku on how many girls joined it. It has even reached outside of Francis Dupont----

Part 3?

[gothhabiba]

Plug-in’s [company hired by Moroccan broadcasting company 2M to dub foreign media] team included translators who wrote scripts in Moroccan Arabic, Standard Arabic and French. Plug-in co-director Chraïbi explained that “Nous avons dû ‘créer’ un nouveau langage… une nouvelle darija, qui ne soit ni trop casablancaise, ni trop fassie, ni trop chamalie, ni trop vulgaire” (Ziraoui 2009), ‘we had to create a new language… a new Moroccan Arabic, that isn’t too Casablancan, too Fessi, too Northern or too vulgar’ (my translation). For example, curse words in the original language recording were not translated into the curse words commonly associated with the speech of inner city Casablanca residents, but instead were changed or removed altogether. This ideology that the work at Plug-in consisted of creating a neutral or an unmarked variety of Moroccan Arabic that “everybody” could listen to and understand was one I heard repeatedly from voice actors and staff at Plug-in. It was a position that aligned with the generally held ideology discussed in Chapter 1 that Moroccan Arabic was the lingua franca of Morocco. As shown earlier in the present chapter, however, the observation was made by viewers that the variety of Moroccan Arabic used in dubbing was not neutral, for various reasons, including that it was marked too strongly as Casablancan and that the lexical items chosen were ‘dirty’ and ‘rough.’ Indeed, the fact that there are no ideologically “neutral” translations, in that all translations involve the negotiation and discursive construction of social and linguistic relations of power, is one that has long been recognized by linguists and anthropologists (Jaffe 1999b). The basic assumption by Plug-in that a Moroccan Arabic translation would be understood by “all” Moroccans[] erased a significant body of viewers who were monolingual Tamazight speakers. My question to employees at Plug-in if serious consideration was ever given to creating a Tamazight translation of a foreign series was met with laughter and incredulity.

— Jennifer Lee Hall, Debating Darija: Language Ideology and the Written Representation of Moroccan Arabic in Morocco (PhD dissertation), 2015, pp. 210-11

Jaffe, Alexandra 1999b Locating Power: Corsican Translators and Their Critics. In Language Ideological Debates. J. Blommaert, ed. Language, Power and Social Process, Vol. 2. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter.

Ziraoui, Youssef 2009 Darija. Série Je T’aime, Série Je T’adore.

[argumate]

Michael Pettis: Well it’s incredibly frustrating. By now, almost everyone agrees that it’s vitally important to increase the consumption share of GDP because that’s what needs to drive growth. The two big sources of growth are consumption and investment, and there’s way too much non-productive investment in China, so you have to bring that down. But if you bring that down, either you bring up consumption or you reduce GDP growth, and of course, they don’t want to reduce GDP growth. So by a process of elimination, you must increase the role of consumption in economic activity.

But there’s only two ways you can increase the consumption share of GDP in any economy: one is you can increase household debt, in other words, get households to borrow more money to consume. China did this in the last 7-8 years, to the point where household debt in China as a share of household income is among the highest in the world. It’s higher than in the U.S. Beijing is very concerned about not encouraging any additional household debt.

So that leaves the only other way, which is to increase the household income share of GDP. In other words, give workers more money, improve, the pension system, reduce fees and payroll taxes. There are lots of different ways of doing it. Even make the subway free, or build cheap housing and give it to the poor, or rent it very cheaply to the poor. There’s lots of ways of doing that.

But when you look at all the talk about boosting consumption—and I tell you, you can pick up the People’s Daily, and every single day there’s another article saying we are going to boost consumption—and then you read through what they’re planning to do and you see that none of them, or very, very few of those proposals actually boost household income. They’re more along the lines of “let’s make the shopping experience happier, let’s have shops stay open later at night.” Or “let’s improve delivery on the internet,” et cetera, et cetera.

But the problem is that when you as a typical household think about spending money, your constraint is your income. Let’s say you have 100 of income and you decide for whatever reason that you’re going to save 15. That means you get to spend 85. And if I can figure out a more enjoyable way for you to spend that 85, you’ll be happier when you spend that 85. But you’re still not going to spend more than 85. That’s the problem. Most of the proposals are really what we would call supply side proposals, they’re not really demand side proposals.

And it’s really intriguing to try to understand why that’s a problem. Part of it is institutional. But I was reading on one of my favorite topics, which is the 1930s, and as I was reading about Herbert Hoover, who was a very smart guy, but during the early days of the depression in 1930-31, he could not bring himself to deliver income to households directly.

He was more concerned about making them “lazy” than about creating demand, so his policies were all supply side policies: “If only we can give more money to businesses, then they will go out and hire more workers and household income will go up.” The problem is that businesses couldn't sell what they were producing, and so subsidizing them further didn’t really solve the problem. They still weren’t going to hire workers. And it seems like we’ve been caught in that sort of Herbert Hoover trap here in China.

[docgold13]

365 Marvel Comics Paper Cut-Out SuperHeroes - One Hero, Every Day, All Year…

November 23rd - Deadpool

The early origins of the madcap antihero known as Deadpool are nebulous and obscured by half truths, outright lies and suppressed memories.  Most likely, he was born Wade Wilson and spent his youth in suburban neighborhood somewhere in Canada.   He joined the military but was drummed out for insubordination despite the tremendous skills he showed in the field.  He was subsequently recruited into a covert task force to act as an assassin.  During this time he fell in love with a young woman named Vanessa who was a Mutant shapeshifter who went by the alias ‘Copycat.’

Wilson was diagnosed with a rare and highly aggressive form of cancer that caused multiple, inoperable tumors to metastasize all over his body.  Desperate and with little to lose, Wilson accepted an offer by the shadowy Department K to act as a test subject for an experimental process that could save his life.  This process entailed his DNA being altered by the introduction of genetic material from the operative known as Wolverine; the hope being that Wilson could take on Wolverine’s Mutant healing properties.  Despite all odds, the procedure proved successful and Wilson’s cancer was arrested.  He continued on as a covert field agent for the Department until he was betrayed and apparently killed by a fellow agent named Slayback.  

The healing factor revived Wilson but also caused his cancer to return.  His body became disfigured as tumors grew unabated all over his body.  He was in terrible agony and was remanded to a center known as ‘The Hospice’ where failed experimental subjects from Department X and Department K were tended to and further experimented on by the sinister physician, Emrys Killebrew.  The orderlies at this Hospice kept a ‘dead pool’ wherein they gambled over the survival rates of the various patients under their care.  

Subjected to terrible abuses, Wilson fell into a psychosis where he believed he encountered the entity of Death and fell in love with her.  It had the effect of invigorating his healing factor and, though his body remained disfigured, he regained his strength.  He escaped the Hospice and took on the name ‘Deadpool’ as a mercenary.  His healing factor rendered him effectively un-killable and he honed his skills with swords and guns to near perfection.  Soon he became renowned as the premier gun for hire all over the world.  Furthermore, his sardonic, irreverent humor and constant prattling earned him the nickname ‘The Merc with the Mouth.’  

Although Deadpool started off as an adversary fighting against such heroes as Cable, X-Force and Wolverine, it was not long before he became an antihero and ally to these heroes.  Eventually he joined a new iteration of X-Force and fought valiantly for the survival of Mutantkind.  He later became a member of The Avengers Unity Squad and thereafter created his own team of operatives called ‘The Mercs 4 Money.’  

Deadpool would go on to have countless adventures, both on his own and alongside superhero comrades.  At some point he became aware that he is a fictional character living inside of comic books, thus allowing him to break the fourth wall and address those readers enjoying his adventures.  

Actor Ryan Reynolds portrayed the antihero for Fox Films and is set to reprise the role in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.  Deadpool first appeared in the pages of New Mutants Vol. 1 #98 (1990).