#another reason she’s not my actual daughter is cos i ask her to participate in the shut the fuck up challenge too much

[solar-halos]

all my sister does is ask me to drive her places and crochet her things. and by god i’m gonna do it every time

[cythoughtsnmemories]

16.05.24

Hubby on duty so I'm here alone wide awake since 1am

Pfft! Am thinking how mil will say all d reason for us to cont stayover wkend. Really don't uds y u wanna force us do such arrangement. Really don't see a point. At most we visit u when we r free. We have our own plans leh. This is definitely 1 issue if I ever get divorce w my hubby.

Anw, last jb trip was interesting to go see furniture cos acc colleagues whose getting hse soon. Dinner was d best.

Finally called d police cos there's 2 uncle being inconsiderate...brought 10 singing birds to trees along my hse n let them sing at 5.45am. Hello I still want to sleep leh.

Tried out fish maw soup n lotus soup for different week dinner.

Met up w my poly friends and had a good catch up and got many advice on dealing pregnancy and life after giving birth. But it doesn't ease me cos all I could think off is hubby bushing off my concern and the issue still there.

So...I've shared d news w hubby. Definitely stress for both of us but a joy too. At first, hubby said a few things which makes me feel like I'm all alone in this but after sharing more and explaining he learned. Guess we will have sleepless night next year. Am so glad hubby helped me cook and asked me to do some exercise for pregnant.

Although I'm not 3 mths yet but got to disclose to my close colleagues who I'm going Bali with. Now left my sup dk. Gonna share before we fly at airport hehehe

Oh right, last week was hectic. Besides sharing d joyous news, before that, I actually had heated conversation w mil over text. I mean it's a good chance to spill what are the issues since she asked what caused me unhappy staying over. Lol end up mil got triggered. To me, I'm just stating facts but she want it her way and be control freak. Lol end up wkend she also avoid seeing me. That's how she teach her kids lor. My hubby got his avoident style when managing issue.

Then during our weekly dinner, she got the chance to say go out eat so stress (lookingat d long Q), not good, still got to wait. Pls lah, go food court lo. Don't see how's that stress. Just wanna say me lah. Wah...I cannot take it when mil ask my hubby to help her apply medicated oil. Yes, it's ur son, but he should be d last choice u pick. Ur hubby for what, ur daughter for what. Then next choice is me then if they can't then pick my hubby mah. I'm quite unhappy about it but dud not shared w hubby cos he confirmed think I'm making a big fuss. It's not about helping ur mum, it's respect towards me...touching another adult woman. Then my hubby not there, mil whole week no need apply lo.

We had went to our 1st couple marriage preparation workshop over d wkend. Glad hubby participate. At least there's self awareness and tool we know what to use and what not to do. Can't wait for next session this wkend. Topic on in laws and family planning.

I feel really stressed out when I foresee issues and hubby just dismayed my concern and said I overthink. I often felt I'm alone in those situation where he thinks it's not that bad. Tell me I'm wrong:

- holiday plans often last minute and after multiple nagging (why do I have to nag u for dates and usually I have less than 3 mths to plan)

- I think we needs to move out to an apartment with d baby arriving (he thinks d child can sleep w us and no helper required. How I do confinement, how I rest, how I go back work, who takes care if there's no infant care. We both dw our parents to look after and we both working)

- so I've discussed w hubby that we will stop stayover his hse after I hit 3 mths pregnant. He agreed n I'm really grateful. (Oneness!!) But my mind keeps thinking how my mil will counter all her reasons or other pattern to force us go over besides weekly dinner. Very annoying to be controlled by mil and my fear is hubby just give in and nvr discuss me or he just flight and not say anything. I will go all out if this happens (Don't force me to say ur hubby don't acc u, u ask my hubby to acc u hor. He is ur son but my husband. He has his own family now, priority wife n child). I don't see a point being married w hubby anymore if he just hands off 😢 (ahhh am not supposed to cry)...and got to deal w this nonsense for 4 years I will go crazy. I hope mil don't force me to get abortion and divorce. 💔 你可以永远把宝贝儿子留在你身边

It's really bothering me 😭😭😭 3.40am liao

[samwrights]

Team Karasuno as dads [hc]

For a married woman that doesn’t want kids, I sure do fantasize about my boys being dads a lot.

Asahi;

He definitely cried when he found out you were pregnant.

When your daughter was born, he couldn’t even be in the room because he was so overwhelmed with you being in pain and the fact he was about to bE A DAD

He doesn’t even remember how you started dating because he was so blown away by your beauty or so he claims but the fact that y’all were married?? And having a kid?? When did he get so bold??

Eventually he got over it cause he felt bad that he wasn’t in the room holding your hand while you literally pushed a whole ass human out ya cooch.

He fainted

The first time he held his daughter was the first time he had felt complete, more complete than when he rejoined the volleyball team in his third year. It felt amazingly right. He tries to deny the fact and say your wedding was just as wholesome but you can tell. Fatherhood is something entirely different for him

“She takes after momma’s beauty.” A simp through and through.

Asahi is a parental HOG. Which is kinda nice cause he loves doting on your child but also HI I AM MOM AND WOULD LIKE TO HOLD MY BABY???

He tells YOU how to hold her and feed her and little ticks about her personality like you aren’t on maternity leave and are with the baby ALL DAY (although he is REALLY pushing for you to just be a stay-at-home mom)

Because he is soooo doting, it’s very rare that you wake in the middle of the night to feed or change her—Asahi is ALL over it. But he is human and there are days he’s too tired to wake up from dead sleep. It’s ok, he’s your human. Daddy deserves rest too.

Asahi would totally be a co-sleeper, or at least nap with the baby as much as he possibly could.

Definitely bought her multiple onesies that say “daddy’s little princess”.

She gonna be a spoiled brat when she’s older 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Daichi Dadchi;

I mean he’s a literal running joke in the fandom

After being elected as the unofficial dad of the VBC in his high school days, it was no wonder that he was such a natural with your three munchkins.

Having three slightly older boys of varying ages, you relied heavily on Daichi to get through to them when you couldn’t.

He’s definitely the strict parent; your sons all try to take advantage of you 💀 demons

Your boys saw you as a pushover most of the time because you were just so tired.

“Just keep trying for a girl, they said. There’s a 50/50 chance, they said.” Was something Daichi would find you chanting to yourself often while you cooked dinner and the boys were playing soccer in the house and breaking something.

Even though Daichi is strict, he really tries to emphasize to the boys to treat you with kindness to make it a bit easier on you.

“Guys, please don’t make your mother rip her hair out.”

“We’re just playin’!” They would sing in flawed harmony

“One day, you guys are going to be all grown up with your own special person with your own kids, and you’re gonna love them so much that you’ll understand why I’m telling you to calm down and listen to your mom.” Asjdfkhlek.

“Ewwww, daddy loves mommy.”

“I sure do.”

Sugawara;

On god, Suga would be the most patient parent. He treats your toddlers like mini adults and not your insane nine year old girl or six year old boy.

He listens thoroughly when they are upset about something, cautiously listening to the deeper truths about why they’re upset and takes great care in making sure his children feel validated.

Super dad 🥰

But it’s not a random event; after being married to you for the last decade, he had so much practice with conflict resolution and genuinely listening to you that it was a natural tendency at this point.

For the most part, your children are incredibly well behaved. Sure, there’s an occasional incident because, well they’re kids. Your daughter, being the older of the two and nearly finished with primary school, was entering her phase of discovering boys and constantly writing in her diary.

Suga may be super dad, but he is not perfect, and for some reason I totally see him reading her diary.

“Koushi, put it back. Now.” He was just going to pretend that you using your mom voice on him didn’t turn him on and prepare him to fill you with another baby.

While he may be an expert on conflict resolution, you enforced respecting their privacy; quite a dynamic between the two of you in terms of validating your children as individuals.

“But honey, our daughter is starting to like boys.”

“At least one of the females in this house does.” 💀💀💀 with angels for children, someone had to be the clown of the Sugawara family and it was certainly you.

Tanaka;

You and Tanaka had your first baby in your guys’ third year of high school, which you would be lying if you said it wasn’t hell.

Tanaka fought tooth and nail to try to do everything from makin dinner, working, making sure you were getting rest, and of course still playing volleyball. Everything except actually trying to graduate.

“I don’t have time to study babe, I have practice and then we gotta put this squirt to bed.”

There was a constant argument about Tanaka continuing with volleyball that nearly forced you two to split. While you knew how important it was to him, there was no way he was going to graduate from Karasuno while he was trying to care for you, a child, work, and play volleyball.

“Ryuu, please. I know you don’t wanna quit but if you can’t pass your classes, you won’t be able to participate anyway.” He did not take well to that.

It took him time to come to his senses and in that time, you had kept you and your son away from him to allow him his space.

Apparently that was also a wrong move on your part.

He was so angry and frustrated being away from his mini me that he had easily conceded to retiring from volleyball if it meant being able to watch his little nugget learn how to sit up and crawl.

Yes, he goes HAM on the nicknames. Squirt, nugget, mini me, beanie baby, tyke, and all of the above. He pretty much calls your son everything but his actual name.

“I’m sorry for being stubborn.” He says one night while you help him study for his finals, your sleeping son swaddled in your arms.

“I’m sorry for making you give up something you love.”

“Nah, I got you and the munchkin. That’s all I need.”

Noya;

I love Noya 🥺 but at first, he is a chaotic parent. Granted y’all had your first child when you were still in college and he hadn’t the faintest clue on how to be a dad.

To be perfectly honest, you weren’t quite sure how to parent either.

Neither of you knew how to change diapers

Noya definitely got peed on more times than he wishes to admit

When your son was still a newborn, just around finals time, neither of you could figure out for the life of you why your baby was crying in the middle of the night. Which inherently made you cry because you had an 8am final and you had finished studying 5 hours prior 🙃

“Try to get some sleep, babe. I’ll take care of him.” Nishinoya’s voice was thick with exhaustion, but he knew how little you’d been sleeping since giving birth.

When you went to leave for your final, Noya was asleep in your living room rocking chair, baby safely in his arms with the both of them just snoozing away.

It was a struggle but the two of you faced the challenge together, one step at a time with your energetic four-year-old son as you graduated university. By the time you had all settled into a larger apartment together as a family, Noya had yet to pop the question. He was too busy having fun with his little man.

Sometimes it scared you how in sync he was with his child probably because he was still a child himself but it was sweet and endearing.

“Hey babe?” He asks softly after the two of you tucked away your boy for the evening. You raised in eyebrow at him, silently goading for him to continue. “Do you want to have another?” Needless to say, he sure as shit impregnated you that night asjckglpwm

Hinata;

With Hinata being an older brother, I actually see him being a wonderful dad. However, homie’s got a one-track mind and with him playing professionally, you’re usually left to do the parenting.

Your kids definitely like you more than Shoyo, not that anyone blamed anyone; they just never see daddy :(

BUT when he is in dad mode and home, you suddenly remember why you were eager as shit to have more kids with him 🥴 which explains ya you’ve got your third on the way

When he does come home, he automatically greets his older, 8 year old son with noogies and a brief wrestling session. For some reason, Hinata felt the need to compete with his own child 💀

Headass.

But when he sees his daughter, his world stops because he has favorites and EVERYONE in the Hinata house knows it

Always asking your 6 year old girl how her day was, asking how she was doing ruling over her imaginary kingdom and if she found her Prince Charming yet.

“Pffft I don’t need Prince Charming, daddy, he’s icky!!! Mommy says I don’t need a man!”

Where is the lie

“Your mom is absolutely right and you should totally listen to her, she’s the best queen in the whole world.”

Because of his one-track mind, he is engaged fully with your kids when he is actually home. Your son had naturally gotten into volleyball which, even after a long day’s practice, Shoyo spends hours training him.

“Do you think this one’s finally gonna like me more than you?” He asks one night while he’s doing the dishes after dinner, while you’re right beside him drying them off.

“Sho, our kids love you. But mom is home with them allllll day and has been since birth.”

“Can we keep trying until one of them finally likes me more?” 💀💀💀 “or until we have enough to make our own volleyball team?”

Kageyama;

How this socially inept clown got ANYONE pregnant was unthinkable. Of course, to anyone but you. After being with him all throughout high school, it was more of a wonder how you didn’t get pregnant sooner

This dude dirty. His one track mind, if not on volleyball, was entirely on you. Nearly every night was date night which ALWAYS ended with bow chicka wow wow 😏 you horny mfers yalll moved in together as soon as you graduated from Karasuno.

Clothing at home was nonexistent.

With the two of you in your second year of college, living in your apartment, and being 8 months pregnant, the air had dramatically shifted.

Kageyama’s once still high sex drive had been channeled into school work, working, and of course, volleyball. You were planning on at least completing your semester before taking time off to care for the baby. It seemed one of you would have to really step up, and from what it seems, it wasn’t going to be Tobio.

When he was home, which was very few and far between with how much he had going on, he had tried to dote on you as much as he could physically muster. Kisses here and there, bathing together, and lots of snuggles.

Kageyama is in charge of the nursery and there’s no room for argument on this. With him not being as present at home, he sets up the nursery as a way to communicate with his child that he’s never going to see because of volleyball

I love Kags, but he is nowhere near ready to even think about parenting 💀 which you tried to be patient with, but with the due date approaching very rapidly, you kinda needed him to step it up.

“I’ve helped.” He tries using the nursery as an argument and he had gone to every doctors appointment but homeboy still doesn’t know how to make a bottle or change a diaper

Was he prepared to have to clean up baby shit and vomit? Absolutely not. Was he going to anyway? Lmao, absolutely not. This boy only wants to be daddy, not dad.

Tsukishima;

It shook everyone and their mother when people found out that Kei not only had a girlfriend that he met in college, but that his girlfriend was a milf according to Kuroo and Bokuto

When you and Kei had first started dating, your daughter was already five. And while you obviously didn’t bring her to classes with you, she was always with the two of you for date nights. Oddly enough, he really didn’t mind.

His patience for kids, now that’s he’s older and kids are actually kids and NOT his peers, rivals that of Sugawara’s.

“Hey Tsukki,” your spawn asks at dinner one day. “When are you and mommy gonna get married? People keep making fun of me cause I call my parents mommy and Tsukki.”

“Making fun of people isn’t cool, it’s so lame. They’re just jealous cause they don’t get to call their parents mommy and Tsukki.”

👁—

That same night, Kei offers to read your daughter to sleep as if to reinforce the notion that mommy and Tsukki was cooler than mommy and daddy. Of course, he was pushing for this to hide that he was upset that children were making fun of her.

After that Tsukishima really gets into his dad role—walking your daughter to school with you or without you everyday, picking her up and giving her grandiose hugs. He made sure to lock eyes with every spectator, his height towering over many at the kindergarten. Silently telling them all “do not fuck with her, or you answer to me.”

He’s sosososo protective, I can’t. He ain’t scared to fight a toddler.

Even well after you and Tsukishima introduce a child of your own, your daughter still insists on calling him Tsukki and adamantly tries to teach her sister to say Tsukki instead of dada.

“You’re okay with the kids not calling you ‘Daddy’, Kei?”

“The only one I want calling me daddy is you.”

Yamaguchi;

This poor bean 💀 not only was he not prepared for fatherhood in the slightest, but twins?!

You both swore up and down they were evil. If one was hungry, the other one would refuse to eat until the other finished their meal. This applied to using their diapers as well.

Imagine the energy of Hinata and Nishinoya as baby twin boys, and lo and behold, yours and Tadashi’s kids.

While you had slightly more patience with them, knowing they were going to grow up eventually and become their own independent humans. Tadashi was not handling this well at all.

Low key, he felt like he was doing a horrible job as a parent and, after the boys had finally gone to sleep for the night, you’d spent a lot of time consoling Tadashi.

“Why can’t I be like—“

“Baby, you’ve got to stop comparing yourself to all of your friends. None of them have twin boys that are less than a year old.”

“Yeah but Hinata has three of them, so does Daichi—“

“Honey, you aren’t them. You’re you, so please, just be you.”

He’s ambitious when it comes to parenting—he wants to be the best dad ever, and he only gets better with practice.

That doesn’t make him wanna tear out his hair any less, but as the boys get older, it does get easier. We pretend their toddler years didn’t exist, it was a nightmare that Tadashi does NOT want to relive

[bettsfic]

socknography: the importance of preserving fan creator biographical data

i wrote earlier on utilizing collections and bookmarks to boost the archival power of ao3, and in that post mentioned how i wish authors would fill out their bios so we can preserve fanauthor information as well as we preserve the fics themselves. so, here is my rant about WHY WE ARE SO IMPORTANT.

for my masters thesis i wrote about the layered pseudonymity of fanfiction authors, and after doing a ton of research, i find myself still thinking of the pseudonymous/anonymous divide as it pertains to fic. we have authors we consider “famous” and ones whose followings eclipse that of traditionally published authors, but unlike traditionally published authors, we don’t put a handy bio at the end of our fics. in fact, if you want to find out about the author, you have to hope they’ve linked somewhere to their tumblr or twitter or dreamwidth, or they have consistent pseuds across platforms. and from there, you have to hope they have an ‘about me.’ but most, myself included, don’t.

unlike traditional publication -- where amazon and goodreads and even the back of the book contains biographical info -- and even unlike the rest of fandom archival etiquette -- which, despite having virtually no committed rules still maintains its organizational structure -- there is no standard etiquette on fanauthor biographical data. 

i speculate the reasons fanauthors are hesitant to write their own biographies is very complicated: 

there is no “ask” for it or existing standard. when i publish stories under my real name, i’m required to provide my bio, which contains my accomplishments, where i got my degree, where else i’m published, and my website. all literary author bios follow this formula, so they’re pretty easy to write. other than this post, i have never seen a request for fanauthor bios. so without an editor demanding it, and without a standard formula or platform to draw from, a total lack of information becomes the norm, and almost any info other than the standard “name. age. pronouns. ao3 name. list of fandoms and/or pithy one-liner” of tumblr or occasional ask game is seen as a deviation from the norm. even ask games get a bad rep sometimes, and they’re transitory, a post you see as you’re scrolling through to somewhere else, not static, like a dedicated profile page.

pseudonymity veers too close to anonymity. an anonymous author cannot have a biography. a pseudonymous author can, but biographies may be seen as defeating the purpose of writing under a pseudonym, or multiple pseuds. a sock account is a sock for a reason -- you don’t want it associated with your main. moreover, i believe fandom creates an environment in which to acknowledge your accomplishments and promote your own content is seen as narcissistic. fanfiction can sometimes be seen as a genre of selflessness, donating time and energy into a community centered around a shared canon, not personal gain. to acknowledge the self publicly is to invite attention, and attention is contradictory to anonymity.

shame and humility. the more information you have on the internet, the easier you are to find. very few fanauthors use their real names, or feel comfortable connecting their fan identity to their real one. i hear pretty constantly how often fanauthors hide their fannishness from their coworkers and loved ones, how only the people closest to them know they write/read fanfic. moreover, you might think “my most popular fic only has 10 kudos and 1 comment, nobody wants to know about me” (which is so not true, but i’ll get to that in a minute).

fandom is constantly changing. with a central archive for fanfiction in place, it’s easier now to be in multiple fandoms at once than it ever has been. if you want to read all sugar daddy fics, there’s a tag for that, and if you’re not picky about canon, you have an entire buffet of fandoms to choose from. communities are growing and shifting and changing shape. i move fandoms, and i keep my friends and readers from previous fandoms. i get dragged to new fandoms frequently. my interests and inspirations change, but i don’t erase my history or identity every time i move, i only add to it. i am always betts whether i’m in star wars or the 100 or game of thrones. but if you only read my fic, you don’t know the stories behind it. many people don’t know i entered fandom in the brony convention community in 2012, or that i was sadrobots before i was betty days before i was betts, or how fandom changed my life and led me through a path of personal trauma recovery, or that i co-founded wayward daughters, or ran the fanauthor workshop, or all these other things about fanfic that is not fanfic itself. 

if you are a fan creator, your fannish personal narrative matters. telling your story helps preserve the metatextual history of our genre.

i think constantly about what our genre will look like in 30 or 50 years, if it will be like other genres that began as subversions of the mainstream: comic books, beat literature, science fiction. genres that, at the time involved groups of friends creating stories for each other, bouncing ideas off of one another, experimenting with or distorting other genres, and which became, over time, well-regarded forms with rich histories. 

maybe one day, like the MCU, we’ll have a dedicated production company that churns out adaptations of longform coffee shop aus written between 2009 and 2015. maybe “BNFs” will be read in high school literature curriculums. maybe our work will end up on the real or virtual shelves of our great grandchildren. and if that happens, if fanfic goes entirely mainstream, how will fanfic authorship be perceived? how will fanpeople in 2080, if humanity is still around by then, interact with the lexicon we’ve created and preserved? what would you do if you found out Jane Austen wrote under five different sock accounts across three platforms over the span of twenty years? how would you, a fan of Pride & Prejudice, even begin to find all of her work?

we have so many social constraints pushing against us. there’s purity culture, which encourages further division of identity -- fanauthors may write fluff on their main and have various sock accounts for underage/noncon fics. if you’re a scarecrow, you’re much harder for a mob to attack. there’s misogyny, which dictates women/queer ppl shouldn’t be writing about or indulging in or exploring their sexuality at all. there’s intellectual property and a history of DMCAs, which, although kept at bay by the OTW, may still have influence on the “illegal” mentality of our work. with social armies against us, it’s easier to exist in the shadows, on the fringe. we change URLs based on our moving interests, and split our identities a million different ways, and keep sarcastic “me” tags full of self-deprecating text posts. we are difficult beasts to catch, because we have not been allowed to exist.

i spent a lot of time today googling the word for “pseudonymous biography” and came up empty-handed (if someone knows of an existing word, pls let me know. “pseudography” is apparently a fancy word for a typo; “pseudobiography” is a fake biography), so for lack of anything better, i’ve come up with the term “socknography” because 1) it’s funny and doesn’t sound intimidating, and 2) it encapsulates the sensitive and complicated way fanauthor identifying conventions work. and also i think “fanauthor biography,” “bibliography,” and “profile” just doesn’t cut it for the actual work of these pieces. they don’t necessarily include IRL biographical data, they include more historical/community context than a bibliography, and the words “profile” and “about me” don’t really inspire interaction, or acknowledge the archival importance of this work.

astolat’s fanlore page is my go-to example. astolat writes under multiple pseuds and has major influence in the history of fandom. she’s also a traditionally published author, but you notice, her ofic novels are not mentioned, nor any other real-life identifying information. fanlore has a really good policy on this in place, for those concerned about doxxing. 

(moreover, i am not suggesting you centralize your socks. they’re socks for a reason. but most everyone has a main, and that main identity has a story.)

there are 2 existing spaces to preserve socknographies. 

fanlore, a wiki owned by the OTW, you can make an account and create a user page (which is different than a “person” page) using a user profile template

ao3′s “profile” page, which is a big blank box in which anything goes

(i’m not including tumblr on this list because i don’t think it’s a stable platform.) 

fanlore’s template is straight to the point and minimal, which doesn’t really invite narrative the same way a literary bio would. ao3′s big blank box leaves us with the question -- wtf do i say about myself? how do i say it? how much is too much? and because of that, most profiles are either blank or only include a policy on translations/podfic/fanart, and maybe links to tumblr and twitter. but let me tell you, if i have read your fic and taken the time to move over to your profile, you better believe i am a fan. and as a fan, i want to Know Things.

here are the things i want to know, or

a potential template:

introduction (name/alias, age, location, pronouns, occupation)

accomplishments (degrees, personal history)

fan history (fandoms you’ve been in, timeline as a fan, how you were introduced to fandom/fanfiction, what does fandom mean to you -- this is where your fan narrative goes)

fandom participation (popular fics/posts, involvement in fan events/communities, side blogs, interviews, etc. 3 & 4 might be one and the same for you)

spotlight (which of your fics are most important to you/would you like others to read and why? what are the stories behind your favorite fics you’ve written?)

find me elsewhere* (links to tumblr, twitter, insta, etc.)

policies on fanart, fanfic of fic, podfics, and translations

*you cannot link to ko-fi, paypal, patreon, or amazon on ao3/fanlore per the non-commercial terms of service

i’ll be working on filling this out for my own profile as an example, but you can also see how my @fanauthorworkshop participants filled out their fanauthor spotlights, and the information they provided. obviously, you should only share that which you feel comfortable sharing, and as your fandom life changes, your narrative will change too. it’s not much different than updating a CV or resume.

tl;dr the goal is to provide a self-narrative of your fan life/identity for posterity. who are you and why are you a fanperson? why do you create fan content? what are you proud of and what do you want to highlight to others? who are you in this space?

[bloomsjeon]

Orange Blossom

pairing: single dad! kim taehyung x reader

genre: single parent au, angst, and fluff.

word count: 2k

synopsis: when little Chayeongie find comforts from her neighbour who orders delivery chicken for daily.

© original picture credits to rightful owner 

"Can I add another sauce on that? Sorry for calling again at the last minute. Yeah! Thank you so much."

Hands juggling between book and papers, and maintaining phone between your cheek an shoulder. Sighing loudly as you set down everything on the coffee table, you look around at your new place that you can finally call your own home.

You had move out from your shared apartment to your own apartment. It might be tiny, but at least it's your own and it's pretty comfortable. The main reason why you actually move out is not only because your roomate starts thinking about moving in with her boyfriend, but you finally got your job as a kindergarten teacher not too far from your new home.

Just when you plopped down into the sofa and close your eyes a phone call echoing your kitchen, "You're already here? Wait! Okay, I'm on my way."

Grabbing your wallet and rushing downstairs, you cannot wait to eat those chicken you've been craving for.

When you arrive downstairs you immediately spot the orange jacket in front of the lobby you smile at the delivery boy. "Well that was quick." You try to make a small talk, seeing you're going to be a regular costumer.

"Yeah, our store's right across of this building. Here's the change. Thank you." The delivery boy left as soon as you got your chicken leaving you bewildered.

Heading back upstairs you got into the elevator with a man holding his daughter's backpack while the little girl plays with her plushie. The little girl notice you're staring at her then she throw you a big smile, you can't help to smile back at her. She's so cute and probably is not older than six years old.

In the elevator suddenly the girl sniffs, then tugging at his father jacket whispering a bit loud that you can hear it.

"Papa, can we get chicken for dinner?" 

Your first day come in hustle, but you love kids anyway. Seeing them laughing melts your heart. You don't even realize your first day already come to an end.

"Good work today!" Serim your co-worker walk you out to the front gate. Then you notice a girl playing by herself in the swing. "Serim," you nudge her towards the girl.

"Isn't everyone supposed to go home already?"

Serim sighs, "Oh that is Chaeyoung. Poor kid, her father must be late from picking her up again today. Every Wednesday since last week her dad picks her up late, he said he has a project requires him to stay late at work."

Both of you approach Chaeyoung, "Chaeyoung. Are you waiting for your dad?"

Chaeyoung look up at the both of you nodding, then you realize that she's the same girl from the elevator the other day. "Oh hi! We met yesterday!" You lean down next to her.

Chaeyoung eyes glint at you, "You're the chicken lady!" She smile.

"You guys met?" Serim ask. "Yeah I think we're neighbours actually!"

"That's great! Can you wait for Chaeyoung's dad to pick her up for awhile? I need to hurry up and pick my child from my mother's." Serim glance at her watch.

"It's okay, you should go. I'll wait with Chaeyoung here!" You sit down on the swing beside Chaeyoung.

Turns out Chaeyoung is a talkative girl, being an awkward person you're glad that Chaeyoung starts engage you with many conversations like does a unicorn like eating pizza as much as she does or how her teddy bear prefers purple over pink shirt.

You were in the middle of conversing with Chaeyoung when a black sedan car stop and a figure approach the both of you.

"Chaeyoung!" Chaeyoung's father call out.

Now that you see it more clearly, you can Chaeyoung resemble her father a lot. You can almost imagine what her father looks like when he was a kid.

"Hi, I'm so sorry I'm late again today. This will be the last time. I promise." His father taking Chaeyoung bag. "No, it's okay. It's not a problem." You shrugs it off.

"Papa, this is Chaeyoung new teacher!" Chaeyoung excitedly introduce you to his dad. "Ah, that must be why I haven't see you around before. I'm Kim Taehyung. Nice to meet you." Taehyung offer his hand. You shook it and tell him your name in return.

"We met y/n just yesterday papa!", Taehyung widen his eyes. "She's the sweet and spicy chicken lady!"

Both of you and Taehyung laughs at Chaeyoung. "So we're neighbours then," You nod. "Well, let me walk you to your car, it's the least I can do."

"Oh, I go home by the bus." Chaeyoung then cut his father off before he can speak. "You should go home with us! Can she, papa?"

"Yeah you should, like I said it's the least I can do." Before you could refuse them, Chaeyoung already drags you to the car. "Come on!"

Smile creep on your cheek when you remember about the encounter between you, Chaeyoung and his father. You adore that even though he's quite young to have a kid you clearly can see that he loves Chaeyoung so much. You wonder how lucky is the mother to have such an amazing husband, and an lovely kid like Chaeyoung.

And today you're going to teach Chaeyoung in math class since Serim who's in charge is absent due her child sickness from chicken pox.

"Good morning everyone!" You greets them cheerfully. Kids either greets you back or busy playing the wooden numbers block in front of them.

Starting your lesson to your surprise Chaeyoung sit quietly in her seat. Unlike other kids who enthusiastically follow you in counting numbers.

"Okay why don't we play games for a bit? What games do you guys want to play?" They're excitedly shouting different games.

"Why don't we make a group first? A different group can play different games!" You divide them to 3 groups. As they begin to chatter and play with toys you prepare before, excluding Chaeyoung whom doesn't participate in her group games. In fact, she plays on her own.

You pat her from the back, squatting down to meet with her peripheral vision. "Chaeyoung, you don't like the game?" She shakes her head, lips pouting.

"Then why aren't you playing with your friends?" You run your finger to her hair.

She mumbles too softly for you to hear. "Can you repeat that, sweetie?"

"They don't like me because I'm weird." Frowning, you don't know what she meant by any chance Chaeyoung is far from weird.

"What do you mean by weird?" You ask again in curiosity but deep down you're afraid if you put pressure on her too much.

"They said I'm weird because I don't have mama."

Your heart breaks when you hear Chaeyoung starts to whimper. She's too young to receive that kind of hatred. You hug Chaeyoung who starts to sniffles. Wiping her tears you grab her teddy bear to cheer her up.

"It's okay if they don't want to play with you, you have me okay? You can play with me. Don't cry anymore Chaeyoungie!" You mimics a weird voice to sound like a teddy bear making Chaeyoung giggles.

"Can I play with you and teddy anytime?" She holds teddy bear's hand. "Of course! Anytime." 

Two days later you meet Taehyung and Chaeyoung in your front door. "Hi!"

Your eyes widened at the sight of the two,"Hey! Come on in!"

Letting them in you were about to make them drinks when Taehyung stopped you. "Don't go any trouble. We're here just want to invite you

to Chaeyoung's birthday party this Sunday. Chaeyoung write your name first thing before everyone else's on her invitation list."

"Of course I would come!" You sit down on your couch. "It would be such an honor, thank you sweetie."

"And we actually want to invite you to dinner tonight." Taehyung glance at Chaeyoung who's smiling as big as ever. "Papa will cook chicken!" You both laugh at her. 

Taehyung messed up, he burnt two chickens already. He thought the soup needs more salt but he put sugar instead. Everything doesn't go as he planned and you're about to arrive in ten minutes.

Just like Chaeyoung whom occupying herself cleaning up her toys to impress you, Taehyung tried hard to cook at least decent meal. But failed miserably. You're someone important to Chaeyoung, in span of four days Chaeyoung mentions your name more than she talks about her uncle Jimin. And that's a lot. Seeing Chaeyoung comes back home from school with smile leave Taehyung's heart in ease. Taehyung admit that from the first time he saw you, Taehyung already mesmerized by you.

In the last minute he's going for the short cut and call for delivery instead but it seems like luck isn't on his side today. The bell rings and when Taehyung opens the door the first thing you said really embarrassed him. "I'm sorry but is something burnt?"

"That— that is the chicken I was supposed to cook." Taehyung bite his lip in flustered. 

Dinner came smoothly all thanks to you, you're a good cook and Taehyung believe after this Chaeyoung will compare your food to his.

While Taehyung do the dishes, you and Chaeyoung plays in the living room. Chaeyoung showed you her favorite story books. Both of you cuddled in the sofa while you read them to sleepy Chaeyoung. Taehyung's heart flutters, something that it hasn't been in years not to anyone else other than Chaeyoung.

After putting Chaeyoung to her bed, you stayed for a drink. "Thank you," Taehyung mutters.

"I'm not a great cook, but it's decent than a burnt chicken right?" You joked, Taehyung only grins.

"Not only that, but thank you for being a great friend and teacher to Chaeyoung." He continues, "I haven't seen her so happy and excited going to school, and she actually talk non stop about you every single day."

"You're very lucky to have her in your life Taehyung, she's a sweet girl." You mumble.

"I know." Taehyung gushed. "I think I haven't been the best father to her. I still have so much to learn."

"What are you talking about? You are her hero Taehyung. She loves you so much."

"It's so sudden you know? I was not ready to raise Chaeyoung by all alone. Chaeyoung is way too young to even remember what her mother looked like. I know she get tease a lot at school for not having a mother. And I don't know what to do to help her."

"Hey, it's going to be okay. It's not your fault. All you can do is be there for her. Chaeyoung is a strong girl. She can get through this, but she need you to be strong and be there for her." You reassures him. 

"Happy birthday dear Chaeyoung! Happy birthday to you!" Before Chaeyoung blow the candles she cross her fingers and close her eyes. "It seems like it's a very detailed wish." Jimin, Taehyung's friend ruffles Chaeyoung hair making her giggles in return. 

"Do you want to tell papa what is it?" Cooed Taehyung at his daughter

Chaeyoung tugs at Taehyung's shirt. Taehyung lowers down so Chaeyoung can whisper to his ear. You're really curious what is Chaeyoung's wish that makes his father flustered and cheeks went red as tomato.

"What is it?" Jimin question. "Are you going to tell me too Chaeyoung-ah?" When Chaeyoung shakes her head and giggles, Jimin pout in sadness.

"She won't tell you because she's going to tell me right?" Jungkook join in and makes Jimin annoyed. 

"No! Only papa can do it!" Chaeyoung chirped.

"I see how it is, Chaeyoung-ah. I'm so hurt."

"But I know what I can do! Tickles!!" Jungkook start chasing Chaeyoung who start running and hide in her bedroom followed by Jimin.

Noticing they only left you and Taehyung alone in the living room, you were about to try to start a conversation to ease the awkwardness but Taehyung beat you to it.

"Do you want to know what Chaeyoung's wish is?" Taehyung whispers. You nod at him, eyes gleam with curiosity. “It’s regarding about you too actually.”

Marveled you impatiently ask,“What is it?”

“Chaeyoung wants you to—” Taehyung hesitates before he continues.

"Go on a date with me."

any kind of reposting or translations are strictly prohibited

© 2019 bloomsjeon. All Rights Reserved.

[polar-stars]

The Overlooked Princess

[Hey, I was able to finish the little fic I was talking about! :D So here it is, a smol, little Next-Gen Ship AU story //throws confetti//

So this is one of my millions of Royalty AUs, one in which pretty much every named character is Royalty. It’s also about ShigeChi (but a bit more about Chieko in general). It’s also a rewritten version of this little snippet here -> https://polar-stars.tumblr.com/post/182306453441/but-just-in-case-you-meant-your-next-gen-alone

It basically has a little more exposition now and Shigeo and Chieko also actually talk a bit more in this one. 

I began this little one-shot a few days ago at a time where I was just really sad for no reason?? Like I just woke up and was like: “Everything sucks”, so this fic was basically me cheering myself up (even tho I couldn’t finish it on that day)

I thought this would be another work for the famous: “Lea’s-Self-Indulgent-Nonsense-Folder”, but seeing as ShigeChi seems to have quite the surprising popularity, it may not even be as self-indulgent as I initially thought .... O.O

Anyways with all my chattery out of the way, here it is:]

Today was the night that everyone awaited throughout the entire remaining year. The night of the Grand Royal Ball. Hosted by the Emperor and Empress of the grand Empire Divina this yearly ball was meant to be the one night where all the royal houses of the many different countries around Divina met in peace. It was without a doubt the highlight of the year and promised not only fun but also many opportunities for negotiations or possible alliances. It was only natural for a royal to look forward to it. Princess Chieko’s mother Queen Yuki Marui of Scientia always made a great fuss out of it as soon as the invitation arrived. Excitedly the woman would rush into each and every room of the palace loudly announcing the invitation’s arrival. Then she would already start thinking about which dresses to wear, which hairstyles would impress the other Royals the most and how much jewellery would be considered too much. Chieko’s father, King Zenji Marui of Scientia, mostly considered the ball a chance to get some negotiation done and when lucky having a talk with some of the other intellectuals. Although not as enthusiastic about it as his wife, it still always brought a smile on his face when watching her spin around the house in excitement. Chieko’s little brother, Prince Takahiro Marui of Scientia, always showed excitement for the ball and spent his time there with spending time with some of the other young royals, namely his best friend the stoic princess of Pacem, Kasumi Ibusaki. And Chieko? There was a time where she had been just as glad to go as the rest of her family. But with time passing her enthusiasm has faded with each year. She did not hate the ball. Not at all. It was still a joy to enter the beautiful, out-of-this-world palace of the Empire. The food served on this occasion was still beyond delicate. She still got to meet her friends from other countries. But at the same time Chieko felt how she got outshined by everyone on this ball. Usually she ended up spending the entire night on the sides, watching the many much more astonishing ball gowns spinning around on the dance floor to fully portray their beauty. Around her she heard many offers for a dance but not one of them directed to her. So many pairs showing sheer elegance in all their steps and twirls while she discussed politics with her bodyguard. Her country was not the richest or the strongest but it was still far from being considered poor or weak. Scientia was capable of being a good alliance. So it really must be her own plainness that lead to her loneliness on the ball. — The first dance of the evening always belonged to the Empress and the Emperor ob Divina, Alice and Ryo Nakiri. The second dance of the evening was reserved to the kings and queens of the other lands. It was always an impressive portrayal of elegance and refinement that the respective leaders of their land put up while everyone else watched. Although everyone in the room was in agreement that the King and Queen of Sol, Takumi and Ikumi Aldini were by far the most talented. Each and every year their performance was astonishing and enchanting to watch. “Your parents are so graceful, Mika!” Chieko gushed to one of her closest friends, Princess Mika Aldini of Sol. She was a truly stunning girl with radiating blonde hair that reminded one of the stars in the sky and sparkling eyes that had the colour of the ocean. Adding to that she had beautiful, full lips and tanned skin. She could wear anything and it would be gorgeous, was what Chieko thought. And she was not alone on that. King Takumi Aldini of Sol almost daily received offers for a marriage with his daughter and also now on the ball, the blonde princess had many eyes on her urging to ask for a dance as soon as the leaders of the land had finished theirs. This allowed Mika to be picky and so she turned a lot of offers down. She also rejected all the marriage proposals, waiting for her one true love to finally arrive. Often perceived as a heartbreaker by many devastated princes she was actually a true romantic still believing in the thought of true love. But only her closest friends got to know this. “Of course you’re just as talented in dancing.” Chieko added. Behind her three males gave an approving nod. Prince Daisuke Aoki of Timor, Prince Hideyoshi Kawashima of Superbia and Chieko’s best friend, Prince Yasu Ibusaki of Pacem. Instantly the Mika blushed at the compliment and retorted. “Tha...Thanks, Chieko. But I’m still not comparable to my parents.” Her cousin next to her, Prince Hiroshi Aldini-Tadokoro of Luna chuckled. “You’re down-talking yourself, my dear cousin.” Once again the group of males behind Chieko gave their approving nods, especially Yasu’s was rather fierce as Chieko nodded. “Seeing you dance reminds one of a swan.” Smiled Daisuke. Next to him Hideyoshi exclaimed. “The goody two-shoes next to me is right for once!” Almost on command Daisuke glared at the other one because of that statement. Meanwhile Yasu added. “There’s many guys who would love to dance with you, after all. It is truly an honour to get a dance with you.” Mika’s blush had only increased and she grunted. “Shut up.” Then she fiercely put her hands on her hips and declared. “Most princes however didn’t learn a thing about dance though!” A little theatrically, she sighed. “So many feet that already stepped on mine. It’s a horror! You’d think if they already have the nerve to ask for a dance with these smug grins, they’d know how to!” The whole group laughed at that. This was why the part where the kings and queens danced was always Chieko’s favorite. Not only were the respective highest-ranked royals all rather talented but it was also the time where all of her friends were still gathered together. But every dance had to end at some point. As the music of the orchestra started to fade, the adults slowed down as well. And just mere seconds after they were already parting. Each of the pairs moving into different directions. Chieko saw her parents approaching, accompanied by Yasu’s parents, Hideyoshi’s parents and Daisuke’s parents. Yuki was almost glowing of happiness and excitedly chatted with Queen Ryoko Ibusaki of Pacem while walking. Her husband King Shun Ibusaki of Pacem was just staring at Zenji in the meantime, making it seem like the two had a telepathic conversation going on. “And? How were we?” Yuki beamed once near enough for the princesses and princes to hear. “Splendid.” Daisuke responded. “Marvelous.” Hideyoshi added. They both turned expectingly to Yasu, who said after a little pause. “I can only agree.” “Absolutely.” Hiroshi smiled. Mika and Chieko gave their nods. Hideyoshi’s mother, Queen Urara Kawashima of Superbia, flipped her hair and declared. “But of course.” Her husband, King Shoji Kawashima of Superbia chuckled. Meanwhile Daisuke’s mother Queen Yua Aoki of Timor clinged to her husband while blushing because of the praise. “Thank you.” Ryoko chuckled in response. Yuki began to laugh. “Of course we all were nothing compared to Mika’s parents!” This statement seemed to irk Urara a little as she flinched. Mika only shook her head. “I wouldn’t put it like that, Queen Yuki, but I’ll be sure to tell them the praise regardless.” Before anyone could say anything more, the Empress who had returned to her throne clapped her hands together bringing the attention to her. “I want to thank my fellow Kings and Queens for their participation in our yearly opening dance. It was a pleasure.” She grinned. “And now with the formalities out of the way! It’s time to have fun~! Herewith, I officially declare the ball’s beginning! Let us all have a wonderful time as usual!” Some raised their glass to yell “Cheers”, the others applauded the Empress despite the fact that she could be a little informal time to time. After that, the chaos ensued. With the ball beginning, for most princes and princesses it was essential to start the evening off with a dance. And of course it had to be a dance with a good, suitable companion. Chieko notes how many eyes landed on the people surrounding her. Hiroshi noted that a great amount of males were staring at his mildly, annoyed cousin and so he quickly offered her a hand. “My dear cousin, how about we share the first dance of the evening?” Mika gave him a little surprised look but it quickly shifted into a thankful but also amused expression. “Sure, why not?” “Well.” Hideyoshi proudly announced. He also had many looks burning on him and knew it. “I’ll guess I search for a partner then as well.” His arrogant grin got a little wider. “Shouldn’t take long.” Next to him Daisuke huffed but decided to tag along in the end. Yasu watched Mika leave with Hiroshi. Chieko gently took his hand. “Maybe next time.” Yasu pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I...don’t know what you’re talking about...” Chieko could only chuckle at this. He might be an unreadable mystery to most but certainly not to her. She was just about to ask if maybe they should follow Hiroshi’s and Mika’s strategy and dance together. For her it was better than nothing, considering that she would certainly get a nice chat out of it and Yasu was a good dancer. However of course fate couldn’t even let her have this, as just as she was about to open her mouth, a girl approached them with flushed cheeks. Of course Yasu was too kind to say no. And as quickly as that, Chieko was alone. Her mother has decided to get in touch with the newest gossip and Ryoko, Urara and Yua had followed her. Her father had chatted with Shun, Daigo and Shoji for a bit before excusing himself and going off to negotiate. The other three soon disappeared as well. Daigo and Shoji aiming for the food that was served on the ball and Shun deciding to have a talk with King Satoshi Isshiki of Fons, the leader of the so-called “Polar Star Alliance” which her country and his were a part of. Chieko sighed. Just as she predicted it. She started to move a little backwards, considering that there was not much need for her to stand so close to the dance floor. She’d just reached the spot that she had desired then she already heard the whispers emerge. “Look it’s the Crown Princess of Scientia.” “All alone as it seems.” “Well, she does not look much like a princess doesn’t she?” “She’s not ugly but.........plain. An everyday-face.” “And a shylet as it seems? She doesn’t look like to have much bravery.” “Oh poor Scientia. She has to rule it someday.” “My father knows one of Scientia’s ministers. They’re all worried sick! For sure small, petite Princess Chieko Marui will not be able to compete with the other much more fierce leaders of the land...and seeing her here. I believe they’re right.” The girls standing a few meters away at least attempted to be as quiet in their talk as possible, Chieko gave them that. It was such a shame that it was not very effective. She bid her lips. Even her country’s ministers doubted her. She really was plain after all. — Time passed and not much changed for Chieko. Only Daisuke returned to her side, while Hideyoshi remained busy swirling around with everyone who wanted to. Mika fleed to the balcony rather soon, Hiroshi joined a talk with his mother and the King of Gloria, Kojiro Shinomiya. And Yasu remained cornered by many different princesses who he just couldn’t reject. However unbeknownst to Chieko, her evening was just about to become much more interesting than she would have ever imagined. “.....And that is why I find this theory on sovereignty much more interesting.” Chieko finally finished a long, long speech. She turned to Daisuke. “But what do you think?” The Brunette blankly stared at her with round eyes for a few seconds before giving his answer. “What I think? Chieko! I think about just how you manage to keep all of this data in your head! You truly are amazing when it comes to such things.” Chieko blushes slightly at the praise. “Thank you...But it really isn’t that amazing...” “It is!” Daisuke immediately corrected. “I mean.....Oh is that your father there?” Chieko noticed how Daisuke’s green eyes had went from being focused on her to something that was behind her. And so she turned around to spot that it was really her father approaching them. To her surprise she also noted that Zenji had become even more pale than he already was and that he looked...slightly stressed. Chieko frowned. What was that about? “Chieko!” He called out as he had finally reached the two. “What is it, father?” Chieko responded and tilted her head a little. “Are you alright? You’re very pale.” Zenji gave a hectic nod. “I am alright, but I....have to introduce you to somebody.” He didn’t sound calm at all. Chieko and Daisuke exchanged a look. “Who is it?” At this question the last little tints of skin color seemed to fade out of Zenji’s face. With a heavy voice he answered. “King Etsuya Eizan of Exitium.” It was the mere name of a kingdom but within a second, Daisuke was as pale as Zenji. “Ex....Exitium?” He screeched in an unbelieving voice. But who could blame him. Chieko’s pupils had also grown wider as she had heard that name. Exitium. A kingdom that was mainly known for it’s immense prosperity that truly only few could rival. But just as much as it was rich, it was also a heavy Military nation that could be a deadly opponent in any war. Going by the stories she heard about the Royal family so far, the king was a merciless man quick to anger while the queen was appearently a just-as intimidating woman capable of freezing people with only a simple glance. It was a fearsome, power-hungry kingdom that made many feel uneasy. Why would any of them want to have anything to do with her? With wide eyes she said. “What? But why...?” Zenji sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. With an frustrated expression he explained. “He requested a dance for his second son, Prince Shigeo Eizan of Exitium.....With you.” Chieko’s eyes grew some more at this and for a little moment. This left her tongue-tied as it took her a bit to process the information she had just received. Someone...had requested a dance with her? And it was the King of Exitium of all places? And she was asked to dance with his son? As her tongue was finally capable of forming words again, the first one to leave her lips was: “What?” She heard Daisuke stammer behind her. “A....A da...dance with one of the three princes of Exitium?” Anther sigh escaped Zenji. “Exactly. I suppose he wants to get his second son, , as he is not the heir to the throne, a marriage to gain more power.” He pressed his lips together and admitted. “I don’t like the idea of introducing my daughter to one of the three princes of Exitium either...” Despite the fact that Chieko couldn’t deny that the thought of dancing with one of the three princes really had an eery feel to it, there was a part of her that was genuinely curious. Maybe Exitium was terrifying in many people’s eyes but it was without any doubt a powerful nation that had to gain it’s reputation somehow. And Chieko was sure that the members of the Royal family weren’t exactly stupid or people who based their decision-making on mere feelings and intuition. And so she answered. “I suppose, we shouldn’t let King Eizan wait too long then.” Daisuke turned to her, eyes full of shock. Zenji continued staring at his daughter for a little while more, before he sighed, nodded and said. “Alright. Let’s go.” 

And so they left,l the still flabbergasted Daisuke and got moving. Chieko did as she said and followed her father’s path through the lousy crowd. Soon daughter and father had reached their target, as Chieko spotted two persons her father was heading to. A man around her father’s age with blonde, slicked back hair and narrowed, sharp yellow eyes which were covered by rectangular glasses. He looked grim and impatient. Without a doubt, that must be the King of Exitium, Etsuya Eizan. On first glance Chieko could understand why he was usually described as intimidating. She didn’t even talk to him and yet she was already wishing for never saying something that could make the man angry. The male beside him was a lot younger, presumably a year older than Chieko. That must be Etsuya’s second son, Shigeo Eizan. The one she was possibly right in front of sharing a dance with. He had the same yellow eyes as his father and had also covered them with a pair of squared glasses. His hair however was green and only partly slicked back. The uniform he wore certainly looked expensive. It was black and Chieko caught herself thinking that the colour suited him well. The Prince disinterestedly looked elsewhere as if this affair didn’t concern him at all. Meanwhile his father spoke up and barked. “King Marui!” as soon as Zenji and Chieko we’re close enough. Zenji flinched a little at that but tried to keep his overall composure. “I see you’re finally back.” Etsuya continued. Without warning his eyes suddenly landed on Chieko. “...With your daughter.” Without any preparation for this attack, Chieko felt like she was being stabbed by those burning, piercing orbs. Quickly she bowed her head and made curtsey. “My name is Princess Chieko Marui of Scientia. It is my honour to meet you, Your Majesty.” “The pleasure is mine.” Etsuya replied, before shifting his attention back to Zenji. “King Marui, May I find out if there will be a dance or not?” He asked in an imperious tone, making the question sound a little bit more like a threat than a polite inquiry. Zenji forced a smile. “I....If it suits you, I’d like to exchange a few more words about this with my daughter.” It didn’t suit Etsuya, which showed as his expression darkened when hearing that he had to wait a little more for his answer. Despite obviously impatient, he still gave a slight nod. “Of course.” The very next second, Chieko was already grabbed by her father and pulled to the side. Once far away enough from Etsuya and his son, Zenji faced Chieko and began to whisper. “Chieko, I know you are a smart girl and I’ll leave this decision up to you. But remember, don’t pressure yourself. If you feel like rejecting the offer, I completely understand! Truth to be told, I would prefer that actually. Just tell me and I will....” He gulped but continued the sentence regardless. “.....Tell King Eizan that you refuse.” Chieko knew that the thought of having to say “No” right into Etsuya’s certainly scared her father and she appreciated that he was willing to do it for her regardless of that. However. Despite all the dark and scary stories she had already heard about Exitium. Despite the fact that neither Etsuya nor his son had shown themselves to be great examples of politeness. Despite the fact that her wise and knowledgeable father was urging her to refuse. Chieko didn’t want to. She searched her feelings and was stunned when finding out that she actually wanted this dance. If she would grasp the chance and actually be able to get on Exitium’s good side, Scientia might have found itself a very strong and valuable ally. But it was more than that. It was also the desire to prove herself. To show the rest of the world that she was capable of standing toe to toe with the other Royals, to demonstrate that Scientia would be in good, strong hands once she will be crowned queen. She just wanted everyone to finally see that she was more than what meets the eye. And lastly. She just wanted to have one goddamnit dance on this goddamn ball for once in her life. And if it had to be with the devil himself. “Father..” She therefore said. “Would Exitium be an alliance of benefit?” She already knew the answer and it was only verified as she saw how her father’s eyes widened before he dodged her gaze. A smile appeared on her lips as she got a hold of his chin to make her look at her again. “You worry too much. I’ll be fine, Dad.” And before he could let his overprotectiveness win over and hold her back or something, she turned around and moved away back to Etsuya and Shigeo. “Your Majesty.” She firmly called out after she had build up enough courage. “I will gladly share a dance with your son, it would be my honour!” Etsuya’s eyes widened a little at that and he seemed to be, actually impressed with the little princess. Another wonder seemed to happen as his son beside him broke his staring battle with the curtains on the other side of the ballroom to finally look at Chieko instead. A smirk played itself on his lips and suddenly Chieko felt her knees go weak as she was confronted with a piercing gaze once again. Shigeo stepped out from behind the back of his father and moved to Chieko. While doing so, he started to talk. “Well, well. I’m deeply flattered, Princess Marui.” He stopped in front of her. Interest flashing in his penetrating eyes. Having him so close, she really couldn’t deny that he was a handsome, young man. “But I do have to say, that this does not fit the formalities.” Chieko felt heat build up in her body as she watched his hand reaching out for hers. He bowed slightly and elegantly brought her hand to his mouth. “Princess Chieko Marui of Scientia.” His lips touched her palm, while his way too intense eyes continued to hold contact with hers. Instantly the blood rushed into her head, turning her face red. “May I have this dance?” It was hard for Chieko not to stammer her answer. “It...It would be a plea...pleasure.” The smirk of the prince grew a little at that and he let go of her hand. He leaned back again and rather held out his elbow to her for hooking. “Shall we then, Princess?” He asked gallantly. She could only nod and place her hand on his elbow. Shigeo’s gaze remained on her for a few seconds more before he turned his head to Zenji who had placed himself next to Etsuya in the mean time and had become pale again. “I will make sure to give your daughter a dance she deserves, Your Majesty, there’s no need to worry.” And with a last nod directed to his father, he turned his head away again and lead Chieko to the dance floor. Meanwhile Chieko had an rumble of emotions going on within her. She honestly never expected Shigeo to be so eloquent....so...so....charismatic. It made her feel a spark of interest that went beyond ‘alliance’. Mentally she shook her head, quickly telling herself to stay focused and not let herself be bewitched by the charms of some prince. Especially not if it was a prince that could possibly lie. Shigeo stopped in his walk once they had reached the dancefloor making Chieko stop as well. She took her hand off his elbow so he could turn to her and face her instead. But once their eyes met Chieko looked elsewhere. She heard a chuckle. “Why so nervous now, Princess? Have you fallen for me already?” Almost automatically she spat. “Of course not!” It only lead to another amused snicker. “Whatever it is then, I assure you there’s nothing to worry about....” Immense arrogance that could rival Hideyoshi’s showed in his voice. “...I am a splendid dancer.” Chieko huffed. At that moment the music of the previous song faded, telling both of them that it was time to get serious. As she had learned it Chieko made another curtsy, while Shigeo bowed. As they lifted their heads to look at each other again they reached out for each other’s hand to let their fingers intertwine. Her other hand landed on his shoulder, while his was placed on her hip, making her blood start to boil again. And then. Just as they had gotten in position. The new tune started. And so they began to move to the music of he orchestra. She let him take the lead and followed each of his steps with precision. Very soon they were in sync as they almost floated over the floor. His eyes attached to her, while she still looked to the side. It what Chieko has practiced for so long but never had been able to show. Over the years she had memorised so many steps and twirls. She smiled a little. Finally. “I see that you’re good in dancing as well.” He said after a while. A pause emerged as Chieko did not really know how to answer but rather had another blush spread on her face because of the compliment on something she had tried to perfect for so long. And then, he spoke up again. “Princess Chieko Marui, you really are an interesting woman.” Now she couldn’t help but to look at him in wonderment about this statement. Her eyes questioning she met his gaze again and found him with a confident smile. She tilted her head a little. “Why? Because I can dance?” She took a quick look around them, seeing all the other couples twirling their circles. She looked back at him. “That really isn’t very amazing.” “Hm..” He hummed. “No it’s not just that, Princess Marui.” After another turn he explained. “I’ll be honest with you. And let me tell you, that is privilege not many achieve. I was not very avid when my father came to tell me he had finally found a dance partner.” For a moment is smile actually disappeared and he started to roll his eyes. “Normally the girls either throw theirselves at me, while clearly only interested in the prestige of my family name and thinking I am easy to seduce with their empty compliment and boring talks or they shiver uncontrollably clearly scared.” To underline how he annoyed he was of hear actions he added. “It’s a pain.” The smirk returned to his face as he then said. “You, however, are different.” Chieko blinked at that, a little too flabbergasted to give an answer. Shigeo chuckled. “I’ve never seen a girl so fiercely walking up to my father and speaking up so confidently. Normally they sent out their fathers or mothers to let them do the talking and even they request the dance in a whimper.” His smirk grew a little. “What you did was certainly impressive.” Chieko’s cheeks became hot once again and she responded. “Thank you for the compliment....” “I don’t understand why you don’t have princes lining up to ask for a dance.” Shigeo continued smoothly. “You’re the crown princess to a steady nation, you’re pretty and you seem to be the smart kind as well.” “Pre-“ Chieko squeaked while her face got red even more. She quickly shook her head to get a clear mind again. But once she did, her eyes turned downcast and she looked back to the side. “People don’t take notice of me.” She explained honestly. “They all see me as weak and helpless. A baby-animal so to speak. A candle in the wind.” The conversation she had heard earlier played in her head again and she pressed her lips together. For a little while Shigeo remained quiet and at some point she assumed he was out of arguments and compliments. But then he suddenly spoke up again. “And yet here you are, dancing with one of the most dangerous men on the ball like it is nothing.” He turned her around and after she had done so, she looked back at him in astonishment. His smirk turned to a grin. “I wouldn’t exactly deem that weak and helpless.” It was then that Chieko actually noted how many eyes the two had caught already and how even most of the other dancing couples were eyeing them. “Is that....Princess Chieko Marui of Scientia?” “.....dancing with one of the three princes of Exitium?!” “How bold!” “I would never dare!” Chieko turned her head back to Shigeo. “That....that is all because of you and your reputation.” He only snickered once agains. “No, Princess Chieko, it’s not. They all admire the princess who’s dancing with a monster.” Chieko felt her heart accelerate a little as she kept on taking turns and slides with him over the dancefloor while more and more pairs of eyes began to watch them.

---

[One of the main things going on with Chieko’s character in the fanfiction is that she tends to get heavily underestimated, sometimes even by her friends....this is also one of the reasons why her having a significant relationship to Shigeo is a thing, as Shigeo is a rather intimidating personality that many, many students on Totsuki fear. 

As he often gets confronted with her fierce side, he’s actually one of the few persons who recognize her potential.

I tried to make this a sort-off theme here as well and I hope I didn’t screw up too badly. 

Also I was like....suffering to write the actual dance QwQ I’m really not good at things like this.

Anyways, here’s my little “I-had-a-bad-day”-comfort fic ;w;

As a last funfact: I was only listening to the Soundtrack of “Madoka Magica” when writing this and I’ll be honest. In my mind the tune they dance to is “Sis Puella Magica” since I...just heavily associate it with this story now XD Even tho....”Sis Puella Magica” comes from a completely different place.

This one works as well (It’s basically “Sis Puella Magica” but without vocals -w- and even more orchestral, so it might work better as song for a ballroom dance : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rT0hDTsNais&t=37s) ]

[fayewonglibrary]

I-Weekly Magazine Interview (2002)

(* SOME REVISIONS TO SPELLING/GRAMMAR/WORDING)

By Jacky Liu Jieqi

Doesn't get along with Vicki Zhao? Seeing Tony Leung? The "Faye-Nic" relationship on the verge of breaking up? Seeing another guy "Ah Joe" in Hong Kong? Scolded Hong Kong paparazzi for following Tong Tong...

With all these rumors surrounding her, Faye Wong is here in Singapore and she can't avoid answering questions pertaining to all this gossip. She just answered me calmly and unemotionally, "Maybe I'm the one who is really causing the problems? Or I'm just plain unlucky?!" Faye Wong quietly laughed after she said this.

As she was walking to the other end of the corridor for a photoshoot, she naturally and automatically smiled and said "hi" to me as she passed by, obviously recognizing me.

Faye Wong looks slimmer than when I previously interviewed her last September. She looks good though and is not in the least perturbed by the recent horde of negative public reports about her. She's still very calm and composed, showing that she really has been in this entertainment circle for a long time and has matured in handling such situations.

Do you have any new discoveries about Tony (Leung) now, as compared to working with him 9 years ago in Chungking Express?

"I understand and know Tony better now, which is mainly due to my own changes. I really started to notice his acting while working with him in this movie (Chinese Odyssey 2002), and we discussed acting together. I really can't remember or recall what was happening when we were working on Chungking Express. I only know for sure that I was very very passive when I was filming Chungking Express."

There's a lot of reports recently saying that you've become more friendly and in fact, you keep on smiling. What do you think the reason is that the public just realized and discovered that Faye Wong can also be so lively? Is it because you're less inhibited and shy and more open now?

"Actually, I'm really not like what everyone imagines me to be. I only know how to laugh recently? How can that be? (laughs) I don't know why it has become like this... Maybe because there was a period where I was extremely unhappy while being harassed by the paparazzi all the time. I think people remember that better, so they "attached" that image to me from that time on."

You said filming your first movie was a horrible experience, but after filming the Japanese drama "Love From A Lie", you developed some interest in acting now?

"Well, I just think it’s getting interesting and more meaningful now. I enjoy the process now. Maybe it’s precisely because "Love From A Lie" is a foreign series and since I was the only non-Japanese speaking artist, I was required to provide some feedback and suggestions. Sometimes the director would also accept my contributions. I'm no longer "passive". I do get some satisfaction from being able to contribute something and join in their discussions. I think my change of attitude and interest towards acting developed during this time.”

It seems like most directors, like Gordon Chan (director for Okinawa Rendevous), and Jeffrey Lau (Chinese Odyssey 2002) always ask you to just be yourself in their movies, there's no need for you to have too much "acting". Do you think this is a good thing? Will you have any chance to improve your acting?

"Hmm... I still have a very unclear picture on what "acting" is. I mean, what do you mean and how do you define what "acting" is? I've discussed this with Tony and Vicki before, but I haven't seem to be able to get a complete or satisfactory answer yet. I've also read books on this and discussed it with other friends... Some directors will say that the more natural you are, the better it is. But Tony said it’s difficult even for a professional to not show any traces of "acting", hence some form of "acting" is still required. But the skill is how to lessen the effect and put the emphasis on "acting", so that people will not realize that you're "acting." Anyway I'm still learning."

Tony said your "acting skills" are good and quite unique.

"He did say this to me before but I don't believe him. Because I'm not as good as he said I was. I always think the others are much better than me whenever I'm filming with them. They can even design some unique traits for their roles, all of this is still beyond me."

Since you already enjoy acting, will you think of "disregarding yourself" and really start to act like a different person?

"I thought about this question before. Whatever character I acted like, people will still always think that I'm acting as myself. Maybe since the public already has their deep rooted opinions about my character, so it’s difficult to see me as "someone else". I think this is inevitable. It’s difficult to create another image if the first image is so outstanding and conspicuous. Actually I don't mind acting in a show where I have to change my image totally, like, so the public cannot recognize that this is actually Faye Wong. This might be helpful to me. Then they can see if I'm really acting or just being myself."

*****

Faye Wong is serious when she talks about acting, her newly developed interest. I can sense that she's really interested now, also that she's very modest and really trying to gain more knowledge in this field. She also doesn't deny in other interviews that she might take on some roles that require some "intimate scenes". This would almost give us an impression that she might give up singing and totally concentrate on doing movies now. Of course this won't happen to Faye Wong, someone who loves composing, making her own music and singing - at least for the time being.

Your contract with EMI has expired and there's lots of speculation that you'll return to Universal, is this a done deal already?

"No, not yet. But my own music production house has started working on the next new album concept."

If you sign to a different record company, will it influence your feelings or your musical direction?

"I don't think there should be any influence. Because normally the record company doesn't really participate when I'm producing my new albums. However, if both of us have the same language, similar ideas & tastes, it'll make our co-operation better, closer, and easier to reach a common understanding."

There's some rumors that said that you lost a lot of music awards this year since you were busy filming Chinese Odyssey 2002 in Shanghai. What do you think?

"Well, what they're really saying is "you can only have the award if you're present for the ceremony". If this is the case, then what's the meaning of this award anyway? So why should I have any regrets over this? Moreover I was very happy and enjoyed myself while filming this movie in Shanghai. So I really don't feel sad or a loss at all."

Seems like the whole cast and production team is very happy and have no regrets working together for this movie.

"The collaborative atmosphere and feeling is very important. If the atmosphere is good, everyone will feel happy and united. The interaction and understanding between actors and the director was very good. The whole experience was very refreshing and good."

But such a happy experience and working relationships have drawn so many negative reports, such as you not being on good terms with Vicki Zhao, you and Tony became a couple, your relationship with Nic was on the verge of breaking up, you're going out with a new beau named Ah Joe, the paparazzi following your daughter Tong Tong and so on. How do you feel? How do you handle all of this?

"I think I'm more or less immune to all of this already...(Her tone got a little high pitched.) However I'll still sigh whenever I see such stuff. I don't get angry or agitated, I just think it is perplexing and ridiculous. I'm trying to analyze it and want to know why this happens... Are there really such ridiculous people around, writing such ridiculous things? Why do they want to do this? Is it really because the public loves reading it?"

Your relationship with the Hong Kong media seemed to be okay last year. Will all these recent happenings affect your relationship with them again?

"If you're referring to the paparazzi, my relationship with them has never changed. The Hong Kong paparazzi is one of them. As for all these untrue and fabricated writings and reports, this happened long before and is still happening, this is nothing new.  I can only say that I don't like some of the media's methods, I haven't changed my dislike for that."

Have you ever thought why there's so many reports on you? And most of the reports are very negative as well.

"I do think about this too. If the public likes to read negative reports, then why is it that they especially enjoy reading negative reports about me? Maybe I'm the one who is really causing the problems? Haha..."

I think it’s because you're popular, so it’s easier to fabricate stories about you. Besides, you never refute or clarify with them at all,  so they'll "clarify" for you on your behalf.

"Hmm... I really don't know, maybe I'm just plain unlucky?! (laughs) If I clarify, then there will be more news. Whatever I say will hurt other people. If that's the case, then why should I clarify anything?"

*****

Faye Wong was very calm and composed during the whole interview. Even when she's a little "agitated", she just laughs softly and gets over it. She already knows that there's no need to get angry or frustrated over things that she cannot change or control. She won't let it affect her, especially since she has experienced so much in life now. She just wants to enjoy whatever happiness and satisfaction she has gained for herself right now.

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

SOURCE: I-WEEKLY // TRANSLATED BY: UNKNOWN - PLEASE CONTACT ME

[socialjusticeartshare]

First She Was Separated From Her Family, Now She’s Separated From School

A refugee child, once separated from her mother at the border by Trump, now struggles with online school.

Every weekday morning, a 12-year-old refugee named Génnezys logs into her seventh grade online classroom. She sits at a tiny table in a corner of her cluttered living room. Before logging in, she tapes her phone to a chair and dials my number on FaceTime. Once we’re connected, I peer into the screen of a laptop lent to her by her public middle school. For hours, I observe coronavirus pandemic-era education for Génnezys and about 20 other children of multiple races, nationalities, and economic circumstances. What I see is both heroic and tragic.

Génnezys is one of the thousands of immigrant children who were torn from their parents in 2018 by the Trump administration’s “zero tolerance” family separation policy at the U.S.-Mexico border. I wrote about the desperate efforts of Cruz, her incarcerated mother, to find her 10-year-old daughter. They were reunited after about six weeks. Cruz later borrowed $6,000 from a friend for a coyote to smuggle her three-year-old daughter into the U.S. The child was detained for a few days then released to Cruz.

I asked Génnezys to invent a pseudonym to protect her family from U.S. government reprisal, and she came up with a fanciful one based on the Spanish pronunciation — HEH-neh-sees — of the first book in the Old Testament.

Today the family resides in a small Southern city. Cruz works as a janitor, earning a bit less than $10 an hour. They live in a small apartment with one bedroom, which Cruz and the girls share with her boyfriend. He is also an immigrant, and he pays half the rent. He’s employed in construction, and he leaves for work very early in the morning. Cruz goes to work after taking her four-year-old daughter, whom I’ll call Bety, by bus to a daycare center. With school strictly online now because of Covid-19, Génnezys stays in the apartment all by herself from 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m., often supervising an 8-year-old girl who has her own school computer with headphones. This child’s Latina immigrant mother works, too, so Génnezys acts as babysitter. Before online school started in September, she worried intensely that being without an adult in the home would be lonely and scary. I live hundreds of miles away, so I volunteered to sit with her via FaceTime. She says that she feels much better when I’m with her.

During the first two days of remote school, the teachers, all young or middle-aged white women, cycled though a dither of confusion and kind but mostly fruitless efforts to actually see and hear their students. One problem was that the online platforms were glitchy. The class links often crashed, leaving the students, including Génnezys, with blank screens. But by week’s end, the kinks were worked out — yet the students remained silent phantoms.

“Know that I see you. I hear you. I’m with you,” one young teacher intoned to the kids right after introducing herself. They had names like Hassan, Rasheeda, Yennifer, and Travis. “Black Lives Matter,” the teacher added. She was met by silence from her new students, and she could not see their reactions either. She asked them to turn on their mics and cameras, but getting them to comply was harder than pulling their teeth. “What did you do all summer? How did you deal with Covid? Talk about your family!”

A boy with an Arabic name turned on his mic just long enough to say that he had a baby sister. Indeed, the loud wailing of an infant could be heard. The teacher skipped a beat, then the boy’s mic went dead. No other students turned on their microphones. Not even Génnezys, who had earlier proved she was not shy. When the teacher mispronounced her name on the first day of school, Génnezys politely but firmly corrected her. She is a brilliant girl who knew no English whatsoever two years ago yet speaks it almost perfectly now, and who scrolls through the internet on her own initiative for details about the accident that crippled Frida Kahlo.

Though she has defended her name and sometimes has been the only student to answer her teachers’ questions about math, Génnezys remains strenuously silent about most of the details of her life. The family all got sick in late May, with many days of fever, coughing, muscle aches, nausea, dizziness, and diarrhea, as well as loss of appetite, taste, and smell. They recovered, but Cruz is suffering now from hair loss — a condition just recently recognized as a complication of Covid-19.

When Cruz got sick, she was employed in housekeeping at an upscale chain hotel. She said she fell ill after being ordered to enter and clean a room occupied by a woman who was coughing. She was not given PPE for the job.

Cruz estimates that in her building complex of a few dozen apartments, about 20 other people came down with Covid-19. “No one died, but some were carried off to hospitals in ambulances,” she said, adding that all were immigrants from Latin America.

Latinos comprise fewer than one in five residents in the county. But they make up about half of the people in Cruz’s census tract, while just across a main thoroughfare almost everyone is white and owns a house.  In Cruz’s tract, many of the Latinos live in cramped little rental apartments.

During the outbreak and their own illnesses, Cruz and her children were never tested for Covid-19. Nor did she contact me, though she instructed her preteen daughter to call me for help if she took a turn for the worse. The family just stuck it out, but Cruz was fired by the hotel because of her sickness and missed work. She got the janitorial job just as soon as she felt better. She couldn’t self-quarantine: She had rent to pay, kids to feed. None of this is something Génnezys wants to talk about in online seventh grade.

She doesn’t turn on her camera either.

It’s hard to know exactly why the students as a group refuse to show themselves to their teachers or to each other. Middle school is the empire of peer pressure — pressure not to stand out, even in normal times, when rows of children are looking at and breathing with each other, along with a teacher in a real room. But the kids’ reluctance now seems at least partly due to how dispirited and disconnected their virtual classrooms feel. Génnesyz’s teachers practically stand on their heads coaxing interactions with the students, but the teachers’ energy seems TV-ish, abstract.

The kids are alone. They have no books. The only class that resembles normal school is math. As in times past, the teacher writes figures on a board and explains what they mean. The other classes are a mishmash of hyperactive YouTube science videos with men who speak too fast, and a woman with a white coat and test tubes performing experiments — work the students normally would be absorbed with in a classroom lab, but which they can only stare at now from afar, wall-eyed. An art class features hip-hop music, whose teaching intention is muddled, and digital choose-and-drag stickers and emojis. Strange, sci-fi cartoon people in Génnezys’s American History class purport to recount the high points of the antebellum human bondage, the Civil War, and the Black Codes. After that lesson, I asked Génnezys if she understood what a slave was. She still didn’t know — though she did remember the cartoon guy saying that a man named Frederick Douglass had been forcibly separated from his mother. She knew what that meant, from firsthand experience, but didn’t mention it in class. With me, she minimized her experience. She’d learned that Frederick Douglass was an infant when he was taken. “But, um, I was 10 when it happened,” she said. “I was a big kid, not a little kid.”

One teacher conducted a lesson about why students should participate in small- group, online “breakout” chat rooms. “Because they help us get to know each other?” said Génnezys, daring to speak.

“Very good! Thank you for that, Génnezys!” chimed the teacher, saying all the syllables correctly. Then she warned the students that they must use “appropriate language” in the chat rooms, and that their language was being watched.

This teacher also held a “correct answer” contest, with her pupils silently checking T’s and F’s on their screens. “True or false: If you fight at a school bus stop, you will be punished as severely as if you’d fought a school. True! Right, Brian! Brian gets a point! He’s pulling ahead of Corinne! Next question. True or false: If you touch the private body part of someone else at school, whether on purpose or by accident, you will be punished the same, either way. Yay, Corinne! She’s back in play!”

But there are no school bus stops now. There are no “someone else”s at school.

Génnezys has another reason not to turn on her camera: She is ashamed of her clothes. She fits a girl’s 14 now, but her wardrobe dates from a year ago, when she was size 10 and 12. Her shirts are too tight for her rapidly developing body. In the morning she puts on her mother’s dresses. They are several sizes too large.

Read Our Complete CoverageThe War on Immigrants

Cruz can’t afford to take her daughter shopping. She just lost another week of work, and wages, due to Covid-19. Two co-workers at her janitorial job tested positive and one is in the hospital. Because Cruz worked closely with both infected women, she was quarantined for 14 days. She had no proof that she had already contracted Covid-19. She had to stay home, along with Bety, who ran around the apartment laughing, yelling, and rifling Génnezys’s little desk while her sister tried to pay attention to online class.

An employee from the county health department came by to deliver some onions and pieces of fruit. Cruz finally got a negative test result but still had to finish the quarantine. Génnezys did not tell her teachers what was happening.

Génnezys also avoids the camera because of what Cruz calls “her obsession.” On the second day of school, a teacher asked, “What is your favorite thing to do?” Amid the mass silence, Génnezys activated her mic and bravely answered: “Play with slime,” she said.

“Slime?” said the teacher, nonplussed.

“Yeah. Slime.”

“Ah. OK. Yeah. Slime. Well, that sounds relaxing!”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Slime” is a faddish kid product that’s been around since the 1970s. Back then, it was valued by boys for its gross-out appeal. Now it’s prettier, smells nice, and is all the rage among preteen and teen girls. Many make it from a home recipe involving glue, borax, food coloring, and plastic beads from craft stores like Michael’s.

Génnezys was already into slime by age 10, back in Central America. Cruz’s partner there, an extremely violent man who was neither of the girls’ fathers, was terrorizing and assaulting Cruz and the children, threatening them with death. The girls witnessed the violence. Cruz made plans to hide Bety with her sister and flee to the U.S. with Génnezys. Meanwhile, Génnezys discovered slime. “In my country,” she remembered, “it was called moco,” which is Spanish for snot. She pushed it, pulled it, rolled and wrapped it, over and over and over. It calmed her, Cruz remembers.

After a grueling trip north, including a stay in a filthy, crowded stash house, things got worse at the border when the Trump administration took Génnezys from Cruz and shipped her 2,000 miles away to a child detention center. There, she was warehoused with mostly older Central American girls who’d come to the U.S. by themselves, pregnant or already with babies.

After spending six weeks with these young women, according to Cruz, 10-year-old Génnezys was using racy language and discussing sex. After she was reunited with her mother, she experienced night terrors and walked in her sleep for three months. She had three sessions with a psychologist. Then, said Cruz, “She entered a new phase of her life: adolescence,” and “she hardly talked about what happened.” Even so, Cruz added, “Two weeks ago, after Génnezys had an eye exam that showed a problem with one of her eyes, she mentioned to me that an older girl in the detention center hit her hard in that eye with a ball. That was two years ago. She’d never told me till now. Sometimes I worry about what’s in her head.”

Outside of her head is slime: jars and jars of it in all colors and textures, from shiny and glistening to rough and frothy. “I love YouTube slime videos,” Génnezys told me. The site has a plethora of young girls extolling their slime collections, as well productions with sexy women’s voices doing ASMR routines, and images of long, manicured fingernails digging languorously into the goo.

“I worry about it,” said Cruz. “It’s such a waste of money. But she would rather have slime, even, than clothes that fit her.”

If Génnezys were to activate her camera for her classmates and teachers, they might see her furiously and endlessly twisting, pulling, and punching her strange doughs as she fidgets at the computer and tries hard to do her schoolwork. A few months ago, Wired magazine interviewed a neuroscientist and psychologist who suggested that people might be gravitating toward slime during the Covid-19 crisis to simulate the feeling of touching actual people.

As a Central American refugee child, Génnezys has been traumatized by murderous violence, forced family separation, poverty, and plague. More and more, however, nonrefugee children in America are joining her in the grief and fear of being apart and alone. How many of these kids are scrunched over their own computers, secretly toying with slime?

“I don’t know,” Génnezys said when I asked her that question. “Maybe I’m the only one. Before the virus, I didn’t play with it in school because school was good. Now, I don’t think I could do school if I didn’t have slime. Without it I’d be dying.

“Dying of what?”

“Boredom.”

Article Source

[ssaalexblake]

Honestly what’s getting me about the oa is the like, i wouldn’t go as far as parallels, but echoes maybe, between Nancy and Hap? I’d even go as far to say that she survived so well in that basement for 7 years actively because she'd already been ‘trained’ to react reasonably to having a such a lack of agency, she was already equipped to handle it. 

Nancy (and abel, too, but it’s unclear how much he supported this because in the flashback Nancy clearly says he doesn’t have to know about it when she gives Prairie a pill) keeps Prairie in a prison of chemicals almost from the moment she comes into her care (i have a while rant on that subject that will devolve into me just angrily raving) in a situation where Prairie does not want to be drugged, not only do the meds not change what it was Nancy was trying to ‘fix’ about her daughter, but they have the side effect of making Prairie just feel numb, consistently, constantly, the whole time she’s on them, she is denied her feelings by her mother. 

Prairie has no choice in this, she has no agency in this situation. She is trapped, with nobody to save her. Nobody even knows this is happening. More importantly, she /hates/ being medicated. It’s something Hap uses to take her, his entrapment of her was masterful, he is charming, and entirely capably of crafting a net of his own on the fly, carefully playing into Prairie’s indignation at being held captive in her own mind to aid his pysical entrapment of her. She is so, overwhelmingly grateful at having somebody tell her she doesn’t need to be medicated she bonds with him quickly. 

Nancy is overwhelmingly controlling, we see it in the present day scenes, oa’s incredibly restricted, to a point it’s understandable, but that point ends and it’s just blatant that Prairie is clearly not free just because she escaped a cage. She manages to wrangle and hour to herself every day, and that actually feels like victory, which is worrying in itself. 

Hell,  the oa doesn’t even get a chance to order her own food at olive garden, Nancy assumes she will want something, and oa just... Goes along with it. She’s used to having no choice. She’s constantly having her boundaries violated, she doesn’t want to be touched, people are constantly violating that, Nancy a prime offender. This, it appeared to me, was not because she was very against the idea of touch, but rather a control and agency issue. When Buck asks politely if he can touch her scars, she immediately says yes, he is welcome to. She doesn’t mind his touch because Buck respected her boundaries and agency and asked permission if he could touch her. 

I don’t think it’s too much of a leap to assume Nancy’s behaviour was always this way, she also controls Abel, by hiding that letter from him. She robs him of his agency as well. She knows better(tm). This behaviour is repeatedly shown from her over and over during the 8 episodes, and honestly it smacks of Coersive Control (which, for the record, is a form of non violent domestic abuse and is considered bad enough to be a criminal offence where i live). 

Which brings me to honestly, the ~moment, Nancy’s immediate reaction to Nina? She reduces her to her blindness. In my week of trawling through theories, i’ve seen comments on here of Nancy’s need to be needed, and what that means for her, but i’ve not personally seen anybody point out that Nancy’s reaction to this child is to see only her disability and how it will benefit Nancy herself. Seeing somebody only by their disability is dehumanization, plain and simple. 

She doesn’t see nina as a person, she sees her as a blind girl and, not what that means for Nina, but what it could mean as a benefit for her. 

Which is what brings me to the echo with Hap, honestly, when Hap first hears Prairie (not see, hear, the exact same as nancy, actually) he doesn’t view her as a person, he views her a a girl who had an NDE and what that could mean as a benefit for him. 

Hap, during Prairie/the oa’s years of captivity, sees them as ‘partners’ or whatever convenient justification he believes to assuage whatever guilt he has (clearly, not enough of it), he actively believes that these captives are getting as much from this as he is (well, even if he can’t entirely convince himself of that, he clearly wants to) to him, his physical prison is beneficial to the captives because, look, they’re getting all this scientific knowledge from their participation! Much as with Nancy, the chemical prison she puts Prairie in is beneficial to both of them because she gets somebody to ‘look after’ and Prairie is ‘fixed’, basically. 

Also relevant, oa’s comments when talking about Homer in Cuba, ‘captivity is a state of mind’ she openly says that. By the time Hap met Prairie, she was used to being a captive, to being reduced to what was useful to somebody, to having little agency, to rolling over when somebody wanted something and ‘knew better than her’. And, by all rights, she took to physical captivity fairly adeptly, i mean, obviously there was trauma there, but also ,there wasn’t as much as you’d necessarily expect. She was /entirely/ dependent on Hap to survive, he could have left them to starve, he actually frequently uses that as a threat between all his captives, but her lack of agency never seems to be a shock to her. She’s used to it. 

And, when oa has her freedom, she is severely restricted, both physically and, also, nancy wants her on meds again!! And, also, the last episode, their house is for sale, she has an ankle monitor, she’s /firmly/ under somebody’s grasp, whoever it is. Presumably they’re moving away to where the only people oa will know are Nancy and Able, increasing her dependence on them again.  

It’s also interesting that oa’s reaction to her parents and her reaction to Hap are similar, she reacts badly to Hap behind Hap’s back, talking to the other captives, calling him the angel killer, and does not often actually challenge him to his face. With her parents, she goes along with is seemingly with the same ‘well, i’ve got to do it’ attitude, but when with Hap she complains openly about being medicated, and then, after the olive garden incident, voices openly her complaints about her parents to French. On a level, i really relate to this, it’s so much easier to quietly submit to a controller and then air your complaints to a sympathetic ear, so much less traumatic in the long run (note: not easier in the long run, in that situation though?? you absolutely view it as such). Voicing complaints to the offender will undoubtedly make it worse for you, going along with it and complaining is the less scary option (baring in mind, both hap and Nancy show violent tendencies towards what they perceive as defiance).

She displays this same behaviour of submission towards both Hap /and/ her parents. And then goes to complain about it to another, separate, trusted individual after it’s happened. 

anyway, tldr, Nancy kept Prairie in a chemical cage, and then Hap kept her in a physical one. They both ultimately reduced her to what was useful to them, and constantly seek to control her. In the end, i feel like emotional trauma from Nancy & co contributed to her reaction to her imprisonment with Hap. But also, Nancy made me supremely uncomfortable in this show, that was past benign over protective mother issues, that was actively malevolent at times. 

[duckbeater]

The Sea Connects Us All

My pants, I knew, were very tight in the ass, which suits me fine. I was meeting my friend Ian at an Italian restaurant just off the Magnificent Mile, very near the parks across the river. It was a mile away and I walked creakily, a little self-consciously, trying to hide behind cheap sunglasses. If you can’t see me staring at you, then I don’t mind you staring at me, is my thinking. My shirt was fussily un-tucking itself, also owing to my stride. I love when a young man’s gaze follows you silently, boring through the glass of a cafe, strafing after you like a cat. I felt very watched and began to think about dogging work embarrassments (the pants were too tight to entertain even a fledgling erection), soothed by rancor.

Seeing Ian wouldn’t help, of course. He and his loving wife had just had a beautiful baby girl, but he’s still one of those rare straight friends of mine that as soon as I see him I’m alight with sexual ardor (a sensation I thought gay men reserved for, and resented primarily in high school and college, and then magnanimously outgrew). It’s frustrating because the intensity of that feeling is exactly supported by our incredible rapport and professional interests, and also his soldier’s physique. He might in fact wear even tighter pants than I do. His Marine Corps tattoo is always poking out from under his rolled up shirtsleeves. His ass is a high shelf. He has a broad chest, huge hands, soft hair, and the face of a very young John Updike. (We both studied writing so I’ve gone ahead and made the comparison.) His manners and features collude toward an incredible gentle sweetness, a dopey, swarthy vitality; in short, I enjoy his company. My thin tie occasionally blew into my face on this walk, patting softly at my cheek, as if to remind me to wake the fuck up. A young man with an aggressively snazzy haircut, probably a docent at the Museum of Contemporary Art, gave me a full up-down while I pretended to be very above it all.

“I’m having a good suit day,” I told Ian, at Volare. “I felt so hot and bothered the entire walk here. It was like a music video set to the soundtrack of my lust.”

“Sounds really creepy.”

“Some of it was. Some of it was just seeing myself looking so lithesome and powerful in the windows of passing taxi cabs.”

“That’s probably barometric pressure-related?” he offered, stabbing at my ravioli and inspecting one.

“You’ve never had a day where you’re just, as they say, ‘feeling yourself’?”

“I’m—I’ll be the first to admit—very tired, um, and also very overwhelmed by what my sexual charisma hath wrought.”

“Aww, your babbers!” I said.

“Aww!” Ian agreed. “Yes. I made a baby.” He frowned. “And now I am very tired.”

“You taking paternity leave?”

“That’s coming up, as soon as Liz uses her maternity.”

A woman several tables away, possibly my age, was unmistakably giving me eyes. “That sounds like it will probably be—not very relaxing, either, but definitely you’ll be able to take small naps during the day.” I ventured another look and made fierce instant contact with the young lady, again. “Say,” I said, “do you have these insane pangs of fear that you’ll be napping with your newborn, and roll over and suffocate her?” I had actually forgotten Ian’s baby’s name. I hoped he would say it.

Ian said, “Yes, like, nightly. I’ve been having a lot of death dreams lately, a lot of war dreams and lost daughter dreams.”

“I feel like I’m getting touched, touched by eyes, again,” I said, plugging my face with too many ravioli. I talked through it. Ian asked me to repeat myself and I held up a finger for his patience. I recalled one of the last conversations he and I shared, this was a few months back, about a master bullshitter he knew in La Porte, Indiana. He’d gone to high school with this man, and in fits of boyish darkness, they’d visit a supposedly haunted woods and call forth the spirits of the place. This was especially dark on Ian’s part because back then he was a devout and fearful Christian, and he understood that these shenanigans were rightly the work of the devil, of meeting the devil in his darkness, and Ian described how one night he did. I kept chewing, put my finger down, acceding to defeat.

“She doesn’t have any hair yet,” said Ian, “so Liz has been putting all these bows and bracelets and headbands on her, they’re pink and flowery and they all say GIRL on them, and I feel like—”

“—do you feel like you need to let her decide these things?”

“I feel like it’s definitely a case where I’m uncomfortable with Liz’s over-insistence. I brought it up, and, I tried really hard not to be a horrible dick about it, and Liz pointed out that all these stupid tiny clothes came from the shower or were otherwise handed down from her sister. She rightly pointed out that either I participate in capitalist patriarchy, or our daughter goes outside in a grocery sack with armhole cutouts. She said, ‘Do you want to roll her up in a doobie?’ She also said that when our daughter is capable of expressing a gender identity or sexual orientation, obviously we will honor her, and love her for whomever she is.”

“Oh, wow,” I murmured. The young lady was sitting with either her well-dressed father or her well-dressed boss. A brother or co-worker sat beside her. She seemed happy in their company, warm, and definitely occasionally glancing my way. I liked her blue, floral-print dress.  

“Liz is very strident now,” continued Ian. “You know those books that tell you that spouses will sort of hate each other after having a baby?”

“There was an adapted Slate article about it, too,” I unhelpfully supplied.

“Right. Well, it isn’t hate we’re experiencing, just some impatience. It’s very unpleasant.”

“Well. Wait until your baby can feed herself.”

“Jasmine. That’s my baby’s name.”

“Jasmine. Oh, what a cool, fun, Aladdin-inspired name, Ian. How did I fucking forget that? I need to get up,” I said, putting away my napkin, “and pretend to use the restroom. Tell me if the lady in the blue dress eye-fucks me, please.”

The young lady abruptly stopped me on my way past her. “You again!” she sang.

“Who, me?”

“Oh my god, ‘Who, me?’” She mimicked me perfectly, capturing all the sudden, low, gravely anxiety in my voice. She grinned as I basically recoiled. “We danced together at Jeanie’s wedding!”

The men at the table nodded fondly at me. “Hours of dancing,” said the older man.

“I have never been to a Jeanie’s wedding,” I warbled, “but I do love to dance.”

“Oh, bummer,” she said. “You were a really good dancer. Whoever you were.”

“I have that face—I have a face that people see everywhere.”

“No you don’t!” she assured me.

I was confused by this comment—I think it was meant to be rude—and so went back to my seat.

Ian asked what that was all about.

“It was absolutely supernatural. She thinks she danced with me for hours at somebody’s wedding.”

“You get that, sometimes.” I do get that. Once a week a friend reports on my whereabouts at a place I’m not and have never been. Other people feel beholden to tell me I look like someone they know—strangers in elevators do this to me.

“Thing is, I haven’t danced, like, really danced, really hard, at a wedding, in years. I take myself too seriously now. I’ve spent the afternoon with this crazy-making attention boner, and like an angel of death she arrives to remind me that I’m none of the things I want to be. Is she still looking at me?”

Ian slowly rotated. “She’s not looking at me,” he reported.

My god, I thought, it’s such a gift to have a friend like Ian, who, for no other reason than basic communication, you can look him full in the face, stare into his eyes, observe his mouth and hands, with what appears to be the innocent pleasure of sympathy and familiarity. My breath shortened and I coughed to speak again: “She has a beautiful blue flower dress.”

Ian corrected me: “It’s waves or something, not flowers.”

Since I was no longer an object of interest to her, I verified this without calling her attention. Sea waves, lapping in curls, stitched wide and white on the navy dress.

[projectmedusarp]

Welcome Zuna! We’re pleased to announce your audition for Charlotte Netter / Electrokinesis has been accepted! Please send your account into the main within the next 24 hours. We can’t wait to have you join us!

** A note from the applicant before reading the audition: DRUG ABUSE TW, this application contains references to alcoholism. There are also aspects of mental/emotional abuse, and while it’s not in the list, I know it can make people uncomfortable and wanted to warn you.

{{ PLAYER INFORMATION }}

NAME: Zuna

AGE: 22

TIMEZONE: PST (GMT-8)

PRONOUNS: She/They

ACTIVITY LEVEL: While I’ll be able to check in every day and hopefully do short replies during the day, more lengthy responses will have to wait until evenings or weekends. This is largely because I’m stuck on mobile during the day.

PREVIOUS ROLEPLAY EXPERIENCE: None, so I am very hopeful that this could be a wonderful new experience! Most of my writing experience has been solo.

PERSONAL TUMBLR CONTACT: Link Removed

TRIGGERS: None again, thankfully.

{{ CHARACTER INFORMATION }}

CHARACTER: Charlotte Netter (Nickname: Charlie)

PRONOUNS: She / Her

AGE: 32

FACE CLAIM: Constance Wu

POWER: Electrokinesis

QUOTE: “There is always a catch. Life is a catch. I suggest you catch it while you can.”

PERSONALITY:

Determined: Charlie’s father is the first person who would tell you that she’d been a headstrong, capable child. She still believes there’s nothing she can’t do if she puts her mind to it, and has yet to prove herself wrong. Whatever it takes to get the job done, she’ll do- within reasonable limits of course, she’s not going to jail because someone challenged her. She’s also very reliable because of this and relishes finishing a well done job. 

Generous: Charlie is never one to hold onto things for herself. She’ll leave the largest tip she can manage, make a point to provide for others when she knows they’re struggling, or reach out to local charities to see if something she no longer needs can be given to someone who does. Her generosity is usually directed towards strangers, but that doesn’t mean she won’t reach out to help a friend in need.

Disorganized: The phrase “I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached” usually refers to people who are forgetful, but Charlie has the terrible habit of putting things in “safe” places- so safe even she can’t find them again. She’s able to function in the material chaos of her life and apartment, but only because her roommates somehow always remember where she put her keys or that file her boss asked her to archive two days ago.

Judgmental: First impressions are everything to Charlie, and she’s used to making snapshot evaluations of people. While she knows it’s impossible to really know someone in a first meeting, she’s very cautious about trusting or becoming close with people with whom she finds fault. Of course, it’s entirely possible to overcome her assumptions, but it might take a bit of effort to force her to believe she’s wrong.

Gossip: Charlie has the unfortunate habit of picking up stories and spreading them around. It’s occasionally in an attempt to get someone help in a stressful situation, but even more rarely works out that way. She takes particular satisfaction in telling stories to others that confirm her previous thoughts about the topic at hand.

Perfect Mask: Due to her judgments and general distrust of strangers, Charlie usually hides behind a mask to create the facade of a perfectly content and well-adjusted individual. There are very few people to whom she shows true emotion, unless she’s under an unusual amount of stress. Most who know her would describe her as confident, prepared for anything, or simply professional.

Social Butterfly: There are few people who’ve come into her orbit that she hasn’t made a point to meet in person. In Charlie’s opinion, it’s better to know and interact with as many people as possible even if she never becomes close with them. She is content with simply flitting in and out among various groups to check in and see what everyone’s up to without settling into any one of them.

BIOGRAPHY:

While the first few years of Charlotte Netter’s life were peaceful and untroubled, her mother died unexpectedly from an asthma attack, leaving both a four-year old Charlie and her father, Jeremy, devastated. As her father scrambled to juggle both his job and loss of a co-parent, he fell into the destructive spiral of trying to find a “replacement mother”. His relationships failed as he put more and more pressure on his girlfriends to be the perfect mother for his stubborn, slightly troublesome daughter. After many years of this pattern repeating itself, Jeremy began to shut down outside of work. As a middle school student, Charlie often found her father had gone drinking before coming home. 

As his dependence grew, so did his need for validation and the assurance that his daughter wouldn’t leave him. Charlie was saddled with taking care of her still grieving father as he lost himself, even as he restricted her activities to keep her close to him. She was forced more and more to take care of him emotionally and physically as her school years continued, practically running all non-financial aspects of her home, becoming isolated from her peers. Her need to get away from her father’s control lead her away from higher education and towards the workforce, permanently moving out mere weeks after graduation. The separation caused a rift between the two, and they went without speaking for nearly a year before Jeremy was able to convince Charlie to reconnect. His drinking has gone through periods of both moderation and excess since then, but she can’t seem to tear herself away as completely as before.

At the time, however, her newfound freedom lead her to expand her interests, meeting people with every new activity she tried, from concerts to morning runs to bookstores. She became determined to be as likeable as possible and found herself in the middle of a network of people who all needed something done or knew someone who did. Simply having these connections opened doors Charlie hadn’t even been completely aware of as people she had only met recently reached out to offer her work or ask if she still needed a copy of that book she had mentioned. With newfound vigor, Charlie threw herself into her new life with a joy she couldn’t remember ever having.

Years passed as she bounced between jobs, apartments, and roommates, focusing less on trying everything and settling into things she truly loved doing. She made friends wherever she went, but had few strong connections until she met her current roommates Sasha and Em. After a crime movie marathon three years ago, they joked about setting up a heist and each applied for a position at places similar to locations found in the movies they had just finished. Em tried for a casino, Sasha emailed a jeweler, and Charlie submitted her resume to a bank, and all three promptly forgot about the entire thing until she got a call to come interview for a teller position. By this time, she was disenchanted by the never-ending job changes and decided it was worth a shot. The other two found the whole incident hilarious, but agreed to never speak of it to her coworkers. She never expected to enjoy the work or the people she met so much, and still finds herself enchanted with her stable employment, though she’s risen to a mid-level management position.

As time went on, she settled into a routine that was only broken by occasional drunken calls from her father when he needed her to pick her up from one bar or another. It was this tenuous variation that lead to her exposure to the tonic water. One night while walking him to her car to go home, he insisted she find the young man who’d been selling waters outside the bar, promising that they could cure a hangover. No matter how she tried to convince him to let it go, he refused to go a step further until she’d bought in to the- in her opinion- expensive scam. Once she’d gotten the water though, it was all she could do to get him home, let alone drink the stuff. So the bottle sat in her car for a couple days until she was thirsty enough to drink it herself.

The next few weeks were frustrating. Every day was a bad hair day, she just couldn’t manage to get it to stop flying around or sticking up at random angles. She went to take the train to meet a friend in Central Park, only to find that all the cards in her wallet were demagnetized. She was constantly slapping at metal surfaces to get rid of the static cling that never really went away, jumping when it finally built up enough to actually shock her. The buildup had been slow, but annoying, and when her frustrations finally came to a head, she could only stare at the charging screen of her dead phone as the tiniest spark connected its port to the fingertip. She shook it off as a weird fluke, or even a dream, until she heard about the missing people who had been hallucinating what the news referred to as “daydreams of superpowers”. Since then, she’s been testing this weird charge thing and keeping an eye out for weird people, though her work at the bank makes her less sensitive to strangers in suits than she needs to be.

HEADCANONS:

All The Single Ladies: Charlie’s never had a long term romantic relationship, and she doesn’t particularly feel the need for one. That’s not to say that she has never wanted one or never will, but given her father’s many failed relationships and the drama she constantly hears about other couples, she’s unlikely to take the plunge to commit to someone anytime soon.

Fit as a Fiddle: Charlie frequently participates in triathlons, both within the boundaries of the city and further out. She isn’t a particularly high ranking athlete, but enjoys the physical exertion. On top of that, these races are how she met and became friends with her roommates!

Miss Muffet: If someone comes anywhere near her with something resembling a spider, especially a large hairy one, she might actively run away from them. She doesn’t get full blown panic attacks over it, but will definitely leave the room until someone collects the little critter. One time her roommates were gone overnight, so she slept on the couch to avoid the spider sitting over her bed!

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: N/A

[telltheworld-phff]

Chapter 7: Turning the tide

What Carol didn't know is that Harry was expecting something to leak. Every morning he would wake up expecting to see a missed call from Edward or his grandmother with the new tabloid's headline. He was expecting a history about how he had dinner with a co-worker in Brazil or details about his night in a Brazilian night club. He could almost see all the made up things the press would publish, but although he wouldn't admit it he was expecting that things he had told her to make the headlines. If they ever made the headlines, it'd disappoint him in so many levels. Even though he knew they all had signed NDA's, he knew that sometimes it wasn't enough for someone not to sell him. He waited the ball to drop every single day after he left São Paulo, but since after he was back in London, not a single word about the time he spent with her hit the news.

And he was grateful for that. Grateful for having trusted her with small bits of information. Some of them were true and others were not, something that he hated doing to anyone he met, but that was necessary for him to know if he could trust the person or not. Four weeks have passed since he left São Paulo, and specially that morning, he'd have to talk to her again. He was surprisingly excited. He kind of missed their banter. And Edward needed some more explanation in one of the reports she made. Harry had wanted to talk to her since he left, but he couldn't find a good reason to. And this morning he took advantage of the British punctuality to time the best hour to speak. Harry made sure to ask for Carol's report when Edward was busy and with packed work. He played an act of "I need it now", and Edward just asked him to wait a little bit before he would look for Carolina's number and call her. If it was any other day, Harry would just come back to his office and wait for the paper, but now he wanted an excuse to talk to her. "I'm going to call her myself, Ed.", Harry said already looking through the files where she added personal information in. He got her phone number and with a mischievous smile he went back to his office. He sat a his chair with her number in his hands and wondered a little bit if it was the right thing. If he was completely honest, the report was already very good and it was ready to be signed and archived. Harry had spent the last three days looking for faults in it, and it was so damn hard to find. But he found some information that hadn't made the cut (because they weren't needed in the report) and started asking Edward to change it or have someone to do it. He grabbed his work phone and added her number. It took him a couple more minutes before he texted her. H: Hey Carol. What's up? He didn't want to check on his phone every five minutes, so he set it aside and found something to work with. He started sorting his emails and trying to not think about it. He even scolded himself for being so nervous about talking to her again. She was a colleague. She's Carol. Only Carol. And he had a girlfriend. 45 minutes later an answer made his phone buzz. C: Who's it? Her phone buzzed beside her and woke her up. Who was texting her at 6:00 am? She could sleep at least 40 more minutes before she had to get ready for school and someone was daring to text her at that time of the morning. She cursed a bit before grabbing her phone to discover who was about to hear a very pissed Carolina complaining about messages at that ungodly hour of the day. She thought she was still sleeping when she saw way too many numbers in the screen. There was a message from an unknown number, from London (which she discovered after a quick Google research). She wasn't going to answer it. She didn't know anyone that lived in London anyway. She got up and went to the bathroom to have a shower. After she finished, and she was more awake now, it hit her: It might be Harry. But she then laughed at herself. Why would Prince Harry be texting her? She was going crazy. Prince Harry wouldn't waste his time texting her. But the message did say "Carol", so it wasn't just a coincidence, was it? Her curiosity got the best of her and she answered it while she was fixing her some breakfast. The answer came faster than she thought. H: Forgotten me already, have you? ;) It was him after all. She didn't have to ask. She'd recognize that tone and that sass anywhere. She stopped eating midway when the answer arrived, she even spit a bit of the orange juice she was drinking. How did he find her number? Why was him texting her? C: Probably have. Since I don't really know who you are... Harry rolled his eyes. For someone as smart as Carol, she should've noticed right away who it was. As long as he knew, the only person she knew that lived in London was him. Or Edward. Or one of his PO's. But why would any of them text her if not him. Duh. He typed and erased the answer a few times before hitting send. H: It's your favorite prince! Carol decided to have some fun and she never typed an answer as fast as the next one she sent to him. C: Carl Philip! :O How did you get my number? Harry rolled his eyes. Again. H: Not Carl Philip... C: Haakon, then? H: No, Carolina. It's not Carl Philip and not Haakon. It's the best looking prince in the UK. With his reply she laughed out loud. Harry could be so full of himself when he wanted. She was hot, of course. But she wouldn't admit that out loud... or, worse, to him. So she decided to push even further to see what he was going to say. C: George! I didn't know you knew how to type that well being only 3 years old. But yeah... How's Lupo and Marvin? H: Fuck off, Carolina. C: Your Royal Highness, what do I owe this pleasure of waking me up at 6 am? H: Oh. I'm sorry. I forgot we were in different time zones. C: That was awfully unkind of you. My sleeping pattern is a sacred thing. But since you're a prince - not the very best looking one, btw - I won't tell you off. I'm on my way to school. In that moment Harry laughed out loud. Carolina's sleeping pattern came as close as a hibernating bear. He wouldn't mention it to her, but she was the most sleepy person he knew so far. H: I said I'm sorry. So... how are you? C: I'm fine and you? How did you get my number? H: I'm alright. And I just looked through your file. But I also could've asked James Bond to fetch it for me. C: Should I know why would you disturb Mr. Bond's fight against criminals just to get a phone number? H: We need something from you... And then he explained what was needed of her and he hoped that she'd find a good enough reason for contacting her after so many time. Somehow he thought she'd know it was just an excuse to talk to her again. As always, she said she'd get to work on it when she was back at home. They texted each other for a little longer before she turned her phone off to pay attention in the class that was about to start. When she arrived home she opened her e-mail to see the message she received a few hours before. She soon did what was asked and sent it to Edward and Harry saying she was available for any necessary changes on the file. While she worked, another e-mail came in her inbox. She had been selected to participate in a job interview. The company remained in confidentiality and she'd have to be there next afternoon. She considered not going to the interview. Just because when the company didn't show it's name, it meant that it was shitty position in a shitty place. She answered the e-mail asking for more information about the job position and what field would she be working on. She turned on her radio and started singing along while she cleaned her whole house. She was doing everything she could to not think about her last encounter with Rodrigo. She could say that the love she felt for him, was disappearing. Slowly but constantly disappearing and she was looking forward for the day where she'd not feel anything for him. She actually got a reply from the company. It wasn't a detailed job position, but she could at least see that it was a communication company and that she'd get an internship in revising and editing texts and internal communication. She confirmed her presence and started to prepare for the interview: looking for the address online, getting the information about the buses she'd have to take to get there, picking out an outfit and to print her new portfolio. To avoid disappointments, she didn't mention it to her mom. They chatted for a bit after dinner that night. "You know, Flavio asked me to go have dinner with him on Friday.", she said sitting on her daughter's bed. She was biting her lip, a clear sing she was nervous about the topic they were chatting about. "And what did you say?", Carol looked at her mother. "I said that I had to think about it. Meaning that I'd ask you first. What do you think about it?", her mom was looking for a sincere answer. "Well... you're 60 and you're asking me permission to go on a date with a guy? That's weird.", she laughed and her mom only rolled her eyes. "I mean. If you want to go out with him, then do. You're a single woman." "You won't be upset with me?", her mom asked. "No. You deserve to be happy for a change. Both of you are single and grown ups.", she smiled. Her mom got up and kissed her forehead before leaving the bedroom. "Is now the time we should have the talk?" "What talk?", her mom was confused. "The talk about where babies come from and how two people who really like each other hug..." "Shut up, Carolina!", her mom interrupted her rambling and opened the door to leave her bedroom. "But I don't want anyone pregnant, miss!", Carol yelled jokingly when her mom left. --- She arrived at the place of the interview a few minutes before the time they asked her to. She entered the building and gave her ID at the reception. She was headed to the 5th floor and waited for a while. There were ten people waiting with her. She tried to look for a sign to discover where she actually was. But probably it was just a building rented for a HR company to make the interviews for the employers. The interview was like many others she did. A Portuguese test, that she always finished first; a journalism test, an English test and a brief conversation where they asked about her work experience, her hobbies and how she saw herself in 5 years. They asked about the time she was a freelancer at WorldWide and she told them the work she helped to develop there. The woman interviewing her seemed interested but she asked her to wait on the outside for a couple minutes. This time, though, she got to talk to the supervisor. And that's when she was a bit more relaxed, she knew she had done something right. Talking to a supervisor or a manager was always a good sign. They chatted for a few minutes and he said what she was waiting for the past months: "I think this is it. You're part of our team. You had the best scores in all the tests we gave you." She wanted to scream and run and scream again. But she just smiled and thanked them for the opportunity. He explained what her tasks would be, payments and hours and every practical thing for when you're starting a new job. And that's when she got to know the name of the company: she was the new trainee at BBC Headquarters in Brazil. She couldn't believe it that an non eye-catch ad had led her to be employed at BBC. She had been accepted in one of the greatest companies of media and communication in the world. It took her a few minutes to calm down, for her hands to stop shaking and to her breathing to go back to normal. She thanked her new boss and left with all the necessary paperwork for her admission. Losing no time, she went to all the needed places she had to before going home. When she got there, her mom was making dinner and had a worried expression on her face. "Carolina! Where were you?", she said drying her hands on her apron. "I was doing an interview, mãe.", Carol answered putting her bag away. "Why didn't you tell me? How was it?", her mom seemed interested and surely more relieved now that her daughter was home. "Because I was tired of always telling you and coming home with bad news. Today, though, I got the job!" "You did? OH MY GOD! OF COURSE YOU DID! I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU", she said hugging her daughter. "Yes, mãe, I did.", she was smiling. "Where are you going to work at?" "BBC." "Holy shit! You serious?", her mom had her hands over her mouth. "Yes! I didn't know it was there until this afternoon, though. But I start Monday". "Oh, thank God! I am so proud of you, Carol." "Thank you mom.", she said smiling at her mom "I'm going to finish dinner and then we can eat, ok? Now I wish I had done something more special for us to celebrate. On the weekend I'll make your favorite food and a cake. You know, your grandmother always said everything gets better with a cake." "Yeah...", Carol said laughing and going to her bedroom to change clothes. She sighed relieved while sitting on her bed. Not only she was now employed, but in her field of study and in one of the best places to have an internship in. She looked for her phone inside her bag and took a deep breath. She texted Julia and was happy with her friend's reactions. Lots of smiling pictures and thumbs up... and even an improvised "well done" sign. However there was another person to share her big secret. The one that made sure to give her an excellent recommendation letter. Carol smiled and texted the number he texted her a few days before, hoping it was really his. C: I got a job! The answer came a few minutes later while she was changing her clothes. H: You did? That's great! Where? C: At BBC. Harry sat up on his bed surprised when he saw what she had written. If anyone would get a job at BBC that person would be her. But he knew it was a very competitive place and worried a little about it. H: REALLY? She laughed then. Everyone was reacting the same way. C: Yes! I just got home from the interview. H: Congratulations, Carol. I knew you'd be working soon. C: Thank you, Harry. Your letter of recomendation helped me a lot. He got distracted with other texts on his personal phone and took a while to answer. She was getting ready to sleep when her phone buzzed beside her. H: But I didn't put my name on it, nor anything Royal related, though. So the merit is all yours. How are you? C: I'm alright. And you? He couldn't tell her the news his grandmother had given him a few hours before, that had killed his humor and made him upset. Nor could he comment on his relationship with Meghan, because it was still a secret. So he went the easiest way. He lied about how he was feeling. H: I'm great. I've got a few free days. C: Always good to have those. H: Yeah. And your mom? How is she? C: She's great. Has a date on Friday. He was trying to keep his mind of it, but all he could hear was his grandmother's voice inside his head repeating those awful news over and over again. He got up and went to the kitchen to drink water. He took only a sip before putting the bottle inside the fridge again. H: Yeah? That's good for her. How are you feeling about it? C: Normal, I guess. I don't really know him. Only a few stories my mom told me. H: Hopefully he's a good lad. C: Hopefully he'll make her happy. That's all that matters to me really. H: That's important, yes. C: So, what are you doing with your free time? He was doing fine, to be honest and was enjoying his free time up until this afternoon. H: Sleeping, mostly. Your panda habits really stuck with me. Then hitting a few pubs with some friends and resting. We're going to have a busy couple of months ahead of us. C: Make sure you're well rested, Your Royal Highness. He went back to his bedroom and rolled his eyes when he read her reply. H: Why do you always have to say that? C: It is your title after all :) H: Never a fan of both the title and that smiley face to be honest. C: No? Why not? I shall call you Your Royal Pickiness then. H: It's a long history... But not calling me Your Royal Pickiness either. C: Can't a girl have fun? She actually pouted while texting that. H: At me? No. With me? Hell yes.

[prestonrezaee-blog]

What Is Your Earning Capacity?

The Firm, P.C. is a boutique Las Vegas law firm founded by Preston Rezaee, Esq. Preston Rezaee is also the founder and Editor in Chief of Vegas Legal Magazine.

In Nevada courts, personal injury attorneys frequently ask juries to assess the loss of earnings capacity for a plaintiff that has been injured or killed; however, this is not an easy assessment because one’s past earnings are not necessarily a guide. For example, what if the plaintiff was only 13 years old (or 13 months old), had no prior earnings history, and an incomplete education (or none at all)? And what of tech masterminds like Steve Jobs and Michael Dell…two men who didn’t finish college yet whose future earnings would’ve been hard to fathom when they left school? Or imagine if Bill Gates had sustained a fatal injury during his sophomore year at Harvard?

These are complicated situations, but they illuminate the difficult job of a jury to place a value on potential earnings in wrongful death and personal injury claims when measurable values are moving targets. How do juries approach it ? A forensic economic evaluation may illustrate various future realistic scenarios for their consideration. But before that evaluation, it’s important to understand and distinguish between earnings capacity and expected earnings.

Actual, Expected and Capacity Earnings: Learning The Difference

In Nevada (as in most states), “earnings capacity” is the measure of loss. In your past, you may not have earned as much as you were capable of earning, but Nevada allows you to claim what you were capable of earning. Imagine a villager who has a 10-gallon jug who goes to the river daily to fill it with only seven gallons, since that’s all her family needs. If someone breaks the villager’s jug, what size jug should replace it…a seven-gallon jug since that was the average amount carried, or a 10-gallon jug, since that is the actual capacity of the broken jug? Nevada allows the claim for a 10-gallon jug replacement since that is the jug’s capacity.

Similarly, a person’s actual earnings, and their earnings capacity, are established in labor markets as a result of supply and demand based on what a person was able and willing to do, and based on employers’ need for that work. In even simpler terms:

• Actual past earnings is based on what a person did earn in the past. We can look a person’s W-2s or social security earnings statements to determine these.

• Expected earnings is based on what a person might be expected to earn in the future and involves the probability that a person would generate earnings.

• Earnings capacity is based on what a person would have been capable of earning….and is different than what a person would have been expected to earn.

Frequently, earnings capacity exceeds expected earnings. Past earnings can be an absolute floor for earnings capacity, but earnings capacity can certainly be much higher than the actual past earnings. And earnings capacity can increase through planned future training and education.

Understanding Earnings Capacity

In order to generate future earnings, a person has to be participating in the labor force, and has to be employed. The labor force (i.e., those participating) includes the employed and the unemployed. Participation means a person is available for work. You can be participating, and yet not employed; yet since you are seeking and hoping to find work, you are in fact participating in the labor force. There are factors that preclude participation. Some of these factors are involuntary, such as injury or illness.

Now: A person is not participating in the labor force if they are sick and cannot work or if they are voluntarily opting out to take time off to care for a newborn or sick family member, or if they’re going back to school for additional education. Bottom line: If you are not available to be employed, you are not participating.

But it gets more nuanced than that… because even if you are participating in the work force, you may not be employed. You may have been laid off, or you quit your job and are seeking another position. Maybe you moved from one state to another, or your employer moved out of state. To generate actual earnings, a person must be participating and must be employed. But having an earnings capacity does not require either participation or employment, in the past or in the future. It requires the capacity to be participating (i.e., not injured) and capacity to work (i.e., with sought after skills). It does not require that we know an actual employer or identify an actual job. It only requires that there are employers and that there are jobs. You can’t have an earnings capacity in the desert.

Underlying Assumptions of Earnings Capacity

Let’s review some examples of how the realistic assumptions of earnings capacity will differ depending on the plaintiff:

If a child is injured, realistic assumptions must be made about the child’s future level of education—which can be influenced by the level of education of the parents, but on average, is greater than their parents’ education. Since the average level of education today for young people who enter the labor force is “some college,” a jury might be shown several education scenarios for an injured child: high school graduate; some college; and college graduate. (Note: If the parents are both college graduates, the likelihood of the child completing college does increase.)

Let’s imagine someone in college. What are the realistic assumptions? College completion? Graduate school? This will depend on the actual testimony of what the plans were prior to the injury. Some people know during their second year in college that they want to become a doctor. Others may not know their future desired occupation until they leave college and work for some time. They may return to graduate school. Plans for young people may not be particularly precise or set in stone, and thus several scenarios are useful.

What about someone early in his or her career in sales, finance or law? Typical entry-level earnings are not a significant factor in determining mid- to late-career earnings. An entry-level college graduate may start out at $40k a year, in a career that may allow them to double or quadruple their earnings between ages 30-40. And these earnings may double or more in the next decade or two, when they are 50-60 years old. Again, a forensic economist can show multiple scenarios that a jury can weigh, along with career plans, employment evaluations, etc.

Preparing Juries To Evaluate Expected Earnings

A jury must be educated to understand that potential or expected earnings are not the same as earnings capacity. Imagine a 55-year-old female attorney who is making $100k annually, with three daughters who are beginning to have children of their own. She may inform her husband, who also makes an excellent living, that she has decided to quit her job, and as grandma, intends to provide care for the grandchildren at her home. This retirement move will allow her daughters to pursue their careers, and it will place the grandchildren in a family environment rather than with strangers at a daycare facility. Were this woman to become injured the day she announces that she will have zero expected earnings in the future, her earnings capacity would still be $100k per year.

In evaluating earnings capacity, for many employed people, the most recent year is their highest year of earnings, as earnings generally increase over time. But sometimes, one past recently high year is not necessarily the best indicator of earnings capacity. Earnings of a real estate agent, for example, can vary depending on economic climate, referrals, etc. Referrals may come in clumps, and the economics conditions may vary. In such a situation, averaging more than one prior year may be a reasonable approach.

Another example regarding earnings capacity that I sometimes share with a jury is that a car’s upper speed limit (its capacity) is much greater than its average speed. In Chicago, I might average 10 miles an hour during the year. But if I were to take my car to a dealer for a trade, I would expect him to consider that it can go 90 miles per hour or more down the freeway (in Montana, legally!) and not offer me the price of a clunker.

Earnings Capacity Outliers

Courts have not given clear guidance on all assumptions about earnings capacity, which has made some assumptions seem unrealistic. For example, anyone could take a second job, part time, and it’s something that is within the capacity of most. Most people don’t exercise that capacity, but if they have in the past, it should certainly be considered. Yet if they haven’t, it may be a stretch to ask a jury to consider that possibility (although it could be shown as an additional scenario if there is some chance it might have happened). Additionally, many people could earn more if they increased their level of education, but again…if they are mid-career, it may be a stretch to consider this to be realistic.

When forensic economic testimony is provided to a jury showing the various alternative earnings capacity scenarios, along with testimony about education and work plans from family members and others, a full and fair recovery can be achieved. The economist can produce information that serves as a tool, an aid and a guide for the jury.

Stan V. Smith, Ph. D., is VLM’s Quarterly Economics Columnist and president of Smith Economics Group, Ltd. Trained at the University of Chicago (one of the world’s pre-eminent institutions for the study of economics and the home of the law and economics movement), Smith has also taught at the university and co-authored the first textbook on the topic of economic damages. A nationally renowned expert in economics who has testified nationwide in personal injury, wrongful death and commercial damages cases, Smith has assisted thousands of law firms in successful results for both plaintiffs and defendants, including the U.S. Department of Justice. Smith also developed the first course in forensic economics at DePaul University, and pioneered the concept of “hedonic damages,” testifying about the topic it in landmark cases. His work has been featured in the ABA Journal, National Law Journal, and on the front page of The Wall Street Journal.

Smith Economics Group, Ltd., is located at 1165 N. Clark Street, Suite 600, Chicago, IL 60610. Dr. Smith may be reached at 312-943-1551 and at Stan@SmithEconomics.com.

The Firm, P.C. is a boutique Las Vegas law firm founded by Preston Rezaee, Esq. Preston Rezaee is also the founder and Editor in Chief of Vegas Legal Magazine.

Originally Posted: https://prestonrezaeeblog.wordpress.com/2017/05/31/what-is-your-earning-capacity/

[robedisimo]

Re-view review: Prometheus [FULL SPOILERS]

[Disclaimer: this review is based on the Italian dub of the film. As such, all opinions on the quality of dialogues and acting are subjective and partial.

This is a film I did originally watch in a theatre, but at a time when this blog wasn’t yet up and running. This review is based both upon that first experience and a second viewing on home video.

The main reason I’m doing this is to avoid spending half of my upcoming review of Alien: Covenant talking about this dud. Needless to say, spoilers ahoy. Let’s friggin’ go.]

“I guess it’s a good thing you can’t be disappointed”, says a wholly unlikeable and un-scientific scientist to a sociopathic robot roughly midway through Prometheus’s runtime. We are, unfortunately, human, and so we can’t claim that privilege.

When the first trailer for Prometheus came online, a good portion of the nerdsphere erupted in joy. It looked good, man. One lengthy and successful viral marketing campaign later, the actual film reached theatre screens and... it still looked awesome, but it felt pretty bad. “Disappointment” was the right word for it, considering that it came fifteen years after the last proper instalment in the Alien franchise – and twenty-six years after the last good one, for those of us counting.

Much of the point, of course, was that this film wasn’t really an Alien instalment at all. Despite beginning its life in the early 2000s as a story concept going by the title of Alien: Engineers, the final product was less of a direct prequel and more of a thematic and aesthetic cousin of the original franchise. That in and of itself would be a slight letdown for fans, but definitely not enough to file the movie away as a failure. But boy, did it get worse from there.

Simply put, Prometheus is a dumb film. It just is. And, as many times before – if you take anything away from my reviews let it be this – it’s mostly a matter of scripting. In this specific instance my woes have a first and last name: Damon Lindelof. The guy is perhaps most notorious as the co-creator and showrunner of Lost, for never writing an actually decent film in his entire career (the closest he ever got being Star Trek: Into Darkness, not exactly a ringing endorsement) and for being capable of making Brad Bird direct a bad movie (2015′s Tomorrowland).

Some noble soul on the Internet described Prometheus as “Alien vs. the idiots”. An apt descriptor, if not for the fact that there’s no Alien in sight; the other part, though, is entirely accurate: not one single decision made by the script, or indeed by the characters in it, is understandable, believable, or relatable. The participants in an unprecedented scientific mission involving two years of cryosleep are briefed about the mission’s objective after getting to their destination. A scientist removes his helmet simply because the atmosphere on an unknown planetoid suddenly registers as containing enough oxygen, without scanning for pathogens... and everyone else in his scientific crew shrugs and follows suit. The guy who brought drones actively 3D-mapping the structure he’s in gets lost. A biologist decides to touch an unknown, blatantly hostile alien creature rising from Ominous Goo™. People earnestly seem to believe that running alongside the trajectory of a vertical object toppling in your direction is a better idea than stepping aside and watch it roll over. And more.

It’s all just a grievous betrayal of what the franchise used to stand for. The Ripley in the original Alien was a sensible, rule-adhering person who constantly pointed out the risky decisions made by her teammates; James Cameron’s Aliens actively subverted clichés by painting its space marines as competent and battle-efficient, which only heightened the terror of seeing them ruthlessly dispatched by the Xenomorph infestation. Of course a horror movie needs its characters to make a couple bad decisions in order to facilitate the plot: in a sane world everyone would just take a look around, say “nope”, and hop on the first rocket home. But Prometheus is one continuous, uninterrupted moment of idiocy on the part of its entire cast. It’s one thing to ask your audience for suspension of disbelief; it’s another to place a sign reading “you must be this dumb to ride” outside the theatre.

What’s worse, every single cringe-inducing moment in the script could’ve been handled in a way that made sense without altering one single story beat, and that’s even discounting all the elements of the script which simply don’t make any sense whatsoever. What was the point of the “watching dreams through a cruddy Photoshop filter” sequence? Why was the fact that Weyland is alive and on board the ship treated like a big plot twist, when it could’ve just as easily been transparent from the get-go? What does the useless character of Vickers gain from being “revealed” as Weyland’s daughter? And why oh why is Weyland played by Guy Pearce in make-up that would make Keir Dullea blush, instead of, I don’t know, an actually elderly actor?

Most of these questions have the same answer, of course: script tampering. As stated before, Prometheus was once Alien: Engineers, and that original script was the work of one Jon Spaihts, who you might know as the writer of Passengers (coincidences are weird) and co-writer of Marvel’s Doctor Strange. His original script was definitely less of an assault on common sense; for one thing, Weyland was overtly in charge of the expedition from the very beginning, without the need to keep his presence pointlessly secret from the crew. As for his casting, I can only assume that at some point the character was supposed to show up as his younger self, either through flashbacks – as indeed he did in a promotional pre-release video – or some more contrived plot tomfoolery. Either way, it’s awkward.

Then Lindelof came on board and, well, did his thing, which left me to wonder whether his portrayal of scientists was informed by some hidden grudge on his part: was he bullied by science majors for attending film school? Is he a secret Scientologist with an agenda to make the bad eggheads look stupid? We may never know. Luckily for us, unlike some other guy I could mention – and if you find it strange that most of my script-related grievances keep being aimed at Fox productions... sue me, I guess – he seems to have a trend of blowing it once and not being offered the job back: Alien: Covenant is in the more capable hands of John Logan, which gives me a smidgen more hope for it.

I don’t want this review to be all complaints, so let’s briefly go over what’s good about the movie. For one thing, the cast is pretty neat: Michael Fassbender obviously steals the show as the passive-aggressive android David, and Noomi Rapace gives a suitably distressed performance throughout, doing her best with the dialogue she was given. As to Charlize Theron and Idris Elba, I can only say that the amount of talent involved in this film definitely exceeds what it was worth.

In addition, the plot isn’t all bad. Prometheus does manage to deliver a couple good horror moments; it’s all rather seen-before, but the harrowing C-section sequence briefly brings the franchise back to its shocking “sexual horror” roots, easily positioning itself as the most memorable scene in the whole affair.

And lastly, Ridley Scott’s direction can hardly be described by an adjective other than “pristine”. While I don’t always appreciate his movies, I’m constantly amazed by how Scott’s directorial style keeps updating itself: far from being an obsolescent has-been, he keeps cranking out features that could easily pass for something made by a young, emergent filmmaker. So I’ll say this: just as those first trailers suggested, Prometheus is an often gorgeous movie, absolutely dripping with visual atmosphere.

Is that enough to redeem it? Hell, no. This was a mediocre movie, and we deserved better given what we were promised. Let’s hope Covenant can deliver something more substantial, and maybe – by answering some of the many questions Prometheus left open – make its predecessor slightly better in hindsight. The last good Alien film was now thirty-one years ago.

[Verdict: MIXED TO NEGATIVE]

[candlewisps]

Frostbite883's Question: What would happen if Luke Skywalker died while he was getting fried by Darth Sidious/Palpatine in The Return of The Jedi?

 Let’s start with the dry, technical bits.

For starters I am just going to assume that Palps and/orVader have the chance to make it off the Death Star before Lando blows it tosmithereens, otherwise there wouldn’t be much to hypothesize. This in and ofitself can play out two different ways: either a) Palps gives up having theEmpire Fleet toy with the Rebel Fleet in order to mess with Luke’s head andfinally orders his forces to simply destroy them, ending the battle with theDeath Star intact, or b) Lando still blows the thing, but Palps and/or Vaderescape its destruction like Luke was able to.

Option A means the Empire is in a position to take prisoners(chiefly, Leia, Han and Co. down on Endor), and we start off more or lessscrewed in the Hope Department. It’s doubtful our heroes would be able toescape the moon-planet, and I imagine the Emperor would have them all executedin a timely fashion (there’s no need to play coy for the non-existentImperial Senate anymore, so he can execute who he wishes without consequence).There’s the possibility of him letting Leia live, as another try for areplacement apprentice, but more on that later. What I’m saying is Option Aends with everyone screwed.

Option B means the Rebel Alliance has the ~relative~ upperhand for now, but the head of the Empire is still intact and the Rebellionsadvantage won’t last for long (especially with them minus the only trainedForce user capable of taking on the Sith, as Leia remains untrained). While theEmpire retreats to lick its wounds, the Alliance has a chance to regroup andrecruit additional forces to their cause, and there may be some sort of hope inthe “Jedi” department when it comes to Leia; however, I’m extremely doubtful(more on this later). So Option B is like a 50/50 that anything can happen, butonly under certain circumstances and personal choices.

Now. Everything laid out is subject to drastic change whenyou take into account the most important variables—the characters themselves.Namely, Leia and Vader.

We’ll start with Vader, since his choices would affect thestoryline first.

If we go with the old Star Wars narrative, pre-Disney/TFA,then the generally accepted Vader mindset was that he was apathetic andresigned towards his fate as the Emperor’s loyal servant; as in, if Luke haddied then Vader would’ve more or less continued on this path, sealing his fateforevermore with no hope of redemption. If this were to be the case, then aForce-trained-Jedi-Leia definitely would not have any hope of “saving” him, asopposed to Luke. Luke used love, hope, and faith to save his father. This waswhat was required to save Anakin’s soul. Leia would not have chosen the paththat Luke did to defeating the Sith. She would’ve gone in, guns, hate, and furyblazing. Whether or not this kind of Leia would’ve been able to defeat thecombined forces of Sidious and Vader is another question.

However, if we go with the newly established canon (and old,according to who you ask) that Vader hated the Emperor with everything he had andwas looking for a plan to overthrow him at first chance, then things getinteresting. I’m going to go with the assumption that Luke died because Vaderfailed to intervene, either out of internal conflict or on purpose.

If we assume the latter, then standing back and allowingLuke to die would indicate that, while neither apathetic nor resigned, Vader’shate for the Emperor and desire to see him dead was stronger than hisconflicting emotions/love for his son. This would imply that he let Luke diebecause Luke was too weak (i.e., not embracing the power of the Dark Side) tohelp him in his quest, and now that he knows a second opportunity for saidrevenge exists (in the form of Leia), there is no point in dragging out hissons fate. He could repeat his method of attempting to recruit Leia to the DarkSide like he did Luke, only he would probably go in with higher hopes becauseLeia was already closer to the Dark then Luke ever was. So going with this,Vader would continue to play along with the Emperors wishes until such as timeas he was in a position to get to Leia. If we assume that the Rebel Fleet wasdestroyed and the Death Star intact, that would be more or less immediately, asLeia would be a captive down on Endor. If the Empire was forced to flee withits tail between its legs, it would’ve taken much longer. Either possibility isirrelevant, because Leia would never join the man who helped destroy herplanet, tortured her and the man she loves, and participated in the death ofher twin. Not gonna happen.

If we propose that Luke died simply because Vader took toolong to decide where he was going to throw in the towel, we have even morepossibilities. Option A: once he finally comes to and realizes what he hasallowed to happen, he actively loses it and attacks the Emperor with the intentto kill, still injured, but now fueled with greater rage to aid him. Dependingon if Sidious has his head back in the game or not, Vader might have theopportunity of a surprise kill (slam-dunking him down the shaft anyways) overraw power. If he succeeds, then he either claims the Empire for his own to dowhatever he would with it, or the enormity of what has happened, what he hasallowed to happen, and what he has lost come crashing down and he buckles underthe weight of it all, giving up the will to live and dying right there. Vader’swill and hatred was keeping him alive just as much as the suit was, and it’sdifficult to imagine him finding the drive to live just to seek out hisdaughter and rectify his mistakes.

Now on to Leia. One of the biggest questions in the fandomwas always “what would happen if Leia had to take on Luke’s role as the ‘lasthope’”, and the general line of thought was always that she would, indeed, takeon the mantle of Jedi and undergo the training necessary. I’ve never seen itmyself, mainly because other people don’t really seem to take Leia’s actualcharacter into account. It’s not that I don’t believe Leia would be the bombdot com as a light-side Force user, she’s more than capable, but I don’t thinkLeia would actually agree to become a Jedi in the first place—at least, not atfirst (and even then very begrudgingly).

Reason #1 she would not become the Jedi people assume: Carriehas stated that, though it wasn’t always obvious on screen, Leia was alwaysvery, very angry, and that her anger more or less fueled her despite hercollected demeanor. For me this is one of the key pieces of information we getthat tells us that Leia is truly Anakin’s daughter, whereas Luke always tookmore after Padme. In Bloodline she even says, “Sometimes I felt as if the only thing that kept me going in theaftermath of Alderaan was the strength of my hatred for Vader.” Basically,Leia lacks the ability to let go, which is not a problem or a flaw, but it is aproblem for a potential Jedi under the tutelage of Force ghosts.

Reason #2: We are operating under the assumption that Leiawould even be able to see Yoda/Obi-Wan’s Force ghosts to begin with. Somepeople put forth that one has to be both Force sensitive and Force trained tosee Force ghosts. If that were true, then Leia couldn’t undergo instructionwith them anyways as she lacks the training to see them.

Reason #3: If we assume that one needs only to beForce-sensitive, and that it is the ghosts themselves who choose who they canappear to (as I believe), then she can presumably communicate with them becausethey will eventually come to her withthe “our last hope” schpeel. And honestly? I imagine her first reaction wouldbe to tell them to fuck off, because their “guidance” and “destiny” bit justgot her brother killed (and also because she now knows that Obi-Wan trained,and was there, when Anakin underwent his journey to the Dark Side and shewouldn’t be likely to trust him knowing this). I think the only way she wouldgive them a chance, at first, is if Luke’s Force Ghost was there to convinceher to do what must be done; however, one must undergo training to become aghost, and Luke never did, so this option is highly unlikely.

Reason #4: Given everything terrible that has happened toLeia and the people she loves as a result of the Force, I imagine she wouldwant to do everything in her power to destroy the Empire/Sith her ownway before all else—which basically means continuing on with what she hasalready done (being a key leader in the Rebellion, using any political sway shemight have, etc.). While the Rebellion might eventually be victorious againstthe Empire’s forces this way, it is not going to be enough to defeatSidious/Vader. Probably only after a great many years, deep thought, andmeditating on her priorities would Leia come to see that she has to embracethis “part” of herself if she wants to see the galaxy free.

I also imagine she would’ve wanted to do anything in herpower to avoid doing something that would draw any parallels between her andher father. She would’ve wanted to stray as far as possible from doing anythingeven remotely similar to him.

All in all, I think the role of a Jedi is something Leiawould want to stay as far away from as possible. The path of Jedi led her bestfriend and newly discovered twin to his death and it started her biologicalfather on a path that destroyed not only himself, but his family and many partsof the galaxy. Misuse of the ~Force~ in general also led to the premature deathof her biological mother (via Sidious’ sinister powers) and the eventual demiseof Alderaan. When all of the personal things one knows of the Force end withdeath and destruction, one would probably give the Force the middle finger., Carrie style.

We have canon evidence to support Leia’s priorities topolitics over the Force as well. In Bloodline, we get this very delightfulconversation (one of my favorites in the whole book, actually) between Leia anda fellow Senator/friend, Tai-Lin Garr, where he actually addresses this verything. He asks her why she had chosen not to follow in her brothers footstepsand train in the ways of the Force, and questions if she ever would in thefuture. This is the excerpt:

“Did you neverconsider following in your brothers path and becoming a Jedi?”

Leia found herselfcaught short. “Why do you ask?”

“They say on my worldthat the Force sometimes runs strong in certain families…()…If that is true,then you might have the potential, just like your brother…()…If you have thatability, then I cannot imagine why you would not become a Jedi as well. SurelyI’ve known few people who would make a finer Jedi knight than you.”

Leia inclined her headin gratitude for the compliment, but she could not answer right away, becauseshe could not tell the full truth. The Force was too important a subject to beshared lightly, even with Tai-Lin, her ally and friend.

Her safe, sensible,and, as far as it went, honestreply: “My duty has always been here, in the work of creating a new and bettergovernment.”

He sighed, as if inregret. “You alone can determine your rightful destiny.”

In addition to this, we get another throwaway line whereLeia does, in fact, reminisce briefly on the fact that Luke mentored her insome meditating/focusing techniques, but that they never went beyond that. Keepin mind here that her current attitude regarding her tutelage in the Force isafter she knew that her father had become Anakin once more, and Luke is still alive, so she wouldn’t have any particularantipathy towards walking near the path of the Force. Her feelings toward theForce appear more or less neutral, but this would not be the case had Luke died,and had Vader been in any way a participant. Leia stayed away from Jeditraining because she chose to do so.

There are just far too many possibilities to this question,and every single choice leads to even more endless possibilities. But to answeryour question, “What would happen if Luke died”, in the most succinct waypossible: everything would suck, always, because a world without Luke Skywalkeris a world I would nope out of at the drop of a pin.

@frostbite883 thanks for the ask!!

[kbaldwin0609]

‘The Bachelor’ Episode 5 Recap: Battle in the Bayou

Warning: This recap contains spoilers for Episode 4 of The Bachelor.

Hello, rose lovers! Time to rejoin Corinne and Taylor’s partially-orchestrated catfight, already in progress:

Corinne: “You’re hurting my feelings, Taylor!”

Taylor: “Maturity and emotional intelligence can kind of go hand-in-hand.”

Corinne: “No, it can’t!”

And so it goes. Corinne calls Taylor rude and questions if she’s here for the Right Reasons™ , while Taylor crinkles her brow and makes a Bish, please face.

This is the “most anticipated showdown of the season,” Chris Harrison? Try again, pal. Can we just get to the rose ceremony please?

Nope! Because first we have to watch Corinne pull Nick aside again, this time to trash-talk Taylor.

Nick’s all, “Uh-huh, uh-huh, okay,” and he thanks Corinne for being so honest and. So, is he a total sucker, or is he just fending off a Corinne freak-out by telling her what she wants to hear? Survey says…

Yes, Taylor gets a rose. (Doesn’t she look happy about it?) The therapist joins Whitney (WHO?), Danielle M., Jasmine, Rachel, Jaimi, Josephine, Vanessa, Alexis, Corinne, Raven, and Kristina in the “winners” circle, meaning tonight we say goodbye to Astrid — she of the insufficiently supportive jog bra — and Sarah, who I had to look up on the ABC cast page. Bye, “ladies”! Now, on to New Orleans!

Wrong show, honey. Anyhow, after the obligatory “look at our awesome hotel suite” segment, Harrison drops by with the good news: It’s two-on-one date week! And judging by Taylor’s face, she knows exactly how this is going to go down.

Hold that thought, honey! Your abject humiliation will have to wait for a while, because right now Rachel has her first one-on-one date with the Bachelor. They stroll through the French Market sampling oysters and hot sauce, and smooching intermittently in front of bemused and confused tourists.

“My chemistry with Rachel is probably the most explosive chemistry I have at this point with any of the women,” says Nick. “She kind of has it all.” Agreed, Rachel is delightful — and she’s got some good dance moves too.

Kudos to Team Bachelor, by the way, for staging that parade directly under the women’s hotel room.

The day portion of the date ends with an oddly brief pit stop at a LOLO concert — and the next thing we know, it’s nighttime and Nick and Rachel are having their “take things to the next level” private dinner inside Mardi Gras World museum. There, Rachel reveals to Nick that she visited NOLA earlier in the year for a funeral, where she danced in a second line parade and vowed to live life to the fullest. “That’s why that moment meant so much to me,” she explains.

They go on to have an easy, sweet conversation about her family — particularly Rachel’s father, who’s an “intimidating” federal judge. “How do you think he’d respond to, like, you bringing this guy home?” Nick asks. But Rachel doesn’t get a chance to answer, because the Bachelor — perhaps worried that he’s tipped his hand a bit too much — starts rambling about how nervous he is to meet anyone’s parents, since he’s already gone through the whole “May I have your daughter’s hand” thing twice before, to no avail. “I’m might be breaking rules here,” Nick concludes, “but I’m super into you.” Good boy! Now give her the rose, silly.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, it’s time for the two-on-one reveal. Vanessa, would you please do the honors?

That’s right: Josephine, Kristine, Alexis, Raven, Jaimi, Vanessa, Danielle M., Whitney (WHO?), Jasmine, and Danielle L. have made the group date cut, meaning that tonight we might finally get to see Platinum Vagine sent packing.

After the group date, of course. Nick meets the “ladies” at a lovely estate named Houmas House, which is not only a historic mansion but also “one of the most haunted houses of all of Louisina,” says the Bachelor. Raven, bless her heart, is not having it: “If we see a ghost, I’m gonna rebuke that thing in the name of Jesus is what I’m gonna do,” she drawls. “I’m not puttin’ up with it.”

A gentleman named Boo (a little on the nose, don’t you think?) greets the group and gives them the rundown of the house’s history and spectral residents — including a dead little girl named Mae, who had a spectacularly creepy doll collection.

Some of the women are willing to play along, talking about how creepy the place is and how they can feel a “presence” among them — but Jasmine scoffs and boldly picks up Mae’s hat and tries it on (much to Jaimi’s chagrin). Unclear how may feels about it, though.

When Nick and Co. contact May via the Ouiji board, the spirits confirms that she’s in the house… and the producers turn off the lights. (Team Bachelor also convinced Boo to pace outside of the house muttering, “They touched the dolly!” — another nice touch.) Nick, Raven, and Whitney (maybe?) head upstairs to look for the ghost girl — but she’s nowhere to be found, nor is her beloved doll. Everyone wanders around in the dark for a bit until Jasmine, fed up, lifts the sheet on the statue — the one Boo warned them not to touch, naturally — and the moment she does, a chandelier falls from the ceiling, right on cue.

By the way, what was under that sheet? Something truly terrifying:

Aww, I’m just joshin’ ya, Corinne! You enjoy your pre-date rituals — bathing, eating enough food to sustain a junior varsity football team, and making up words.

No, but that’s ok — the Bachelor likes to mangle language, too.

Close enough, I guess.

Back inside the mansion, Jasmine and Raven tiptoe into Mae’s room, where Jasmine asks the dead young lady to forgive her for touching her hat. Suddenly, things objects start falling off the shelf behind her! Is it the undead, or the Bachelor Interns shaking the bookcase from the darkened corner? I guess we’ll never know.

Man, this date is dragging on. Nick, move it along, won’t you?

Danielle M.? Sure, sounds good. On to the Battle in the Bayou!

Taylor is feeling confident. “I don’t think today is a hard decision for Nick because Corinne and I are two very different people,” she says. “I don’t have a nanny — I have a master’s degree in clinical mental health counseling… If Nick gives Corinne the rose today, he’s thinking with his d**k.” Girl, you should always assume Nick is always thinking with his d**k. Am I the only one who started to worry at this point that things weren’t going to end well for Taylor?

The beefy boat operator drops Nick and his “ladies” off in the middle of the wooded swampland, where bones and giant bugs await them.

But the real romance doesn’t start until they arrive at a pop-up voodoo ritual, where a priestess and her… parishoners? coven? pals? Anyhow, everyone’s doing their voodoo thing. The priestess leads the trio to a tarot card reader, who is there to bring “clarity and light to the situation.” Fun fact: This isn’t the first time Nick’s participated in a producer-mandated tarot card reading. On last season of Bachelor in Paradise, he and his Ms. Right Now, Jen, got a reading on their last date — though by the time it aired Nick had already been announced as the new Bachelor and we all knew Jen was a goner. What fresh hell awaits him this time?

The tarot card lady decides the situation is too “tense” to do a group reading, so she sends Corinne and Nick away to focus on Taylor first. And what kind of Bachelor villain would Corinne be if she didn’t use this time to undermine her rival? “I do feel a little obligated to tell you, there’s a situation in the house with me and Taylor,” she says. “She emotionally attacked me. She basically called me stupid.” Nick’s response — “How did that make you feel?” — is really odd. Is he a therapist now? It seems the more useful question would be, “What was the argument about?” or “What exactly did she say?” But why bother with details when you can make out in the middle of a swamp?

When Nick sits down with Taylor, he doesn’t waste any time getting to the question at hand: Are you a big ol’ bully like Corinne says? If Taylor flat-out denied the accusations that she bullied Corinne and called her “stupid,” we didn’t get to see it. Instead, we hear Taylor give Nick a speech about how he needs someone with emotional intelligence and confidence — and she also reveals with a smirk that Corinne didn’t know what “emotional intelligence” meant. Man, As much as dislike Corinne, the more we see of Taylor it’s clear that she’s no trip to Pismo beach, either.

When Taylor returns from her chat with Nick, she finds Corinne sitting alone at the tarot card table playing with her new voodoo doll.

“I hope that you feel like you used your time with him wisely — because you lied to him,” Taylor snaps. “Not once did I say you were stupid, did I name-call you, and I certainly did not bully you.” They bicker back and forth a bit, with Corinne saying it blows her mind that Taylor is a mental health counselor, and Taylor retorting that Corinne’s claim to run a “multi-million-dollar company” is equally laughable. Then they sit in frosty silence while Nick makes his way back through the woods.

“To me it’s not about how Taylor and Corinne feel about each other,” says Nick. “It’s about how I feel about these women.” And how’s that? Well, a framegrab is worth 1,000 words:

Yeppers, Corrine gets the rose. And with that, she and Nick climb back into the boat and leave Taylor to get eaten alive by bugs, gators, and her own inner demons.

Actually, scratch that — Taylor’s not going away just yet. As we all know, this is the part of the process where the dumped two-on-one dater makes some kind of vaguely stalker-y return to “speak his/her piece,” and that’s exactly what Taylor plans to do — right after she’s finished with this ritual voodoo cleansing.

Ahhhh, refreshing. Hey Nick and Corinne, I hope you don’t mind a side of on-camera conflict with your dinner.

Oh look — our old friend the “To Be Continued” sign. I guess we’ll have to wait until next week to see if Taylor can change Nick’s mind — or if he ends up sending both she and Corinne home. Post your predictions below! And be sure to check out Chris Harrison’s exclusive blog right here. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go make this into a t-shirt.

The Bachelor airs Mondays at 8 p.m. on ABC. Watch clips and full episodes of The Bachelor for free on Yahoo View.