#being called a stereotype (that is a bit stereotype) made me joyous

[cve-th3mvsic]

i love looking back at old photos i took of myself and seeing how boy i looked. i didn’t even know how boy i looked. i looked so boy.

me, now, is very happy. i’m very happy to see that i was so boy. the gender euphoria, the joy it brings me, knowing that i looked the way i wanna, even though i didn’t know at the time

___

[prfctethereal]

just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: one 

warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (male receiving), exhibitionism, talk of dead bodies, actual dead body, blood, vomiting

word count: 3.7k

read the prologue here or on ao3 here

summary: you and james take a quick detour through the woods, to have a bit of morning fun, but find something gruesome.

Three weeks earlier…

The quiet town of Hogwarts had never been quieter. It was typical though; towns that resided in the countryside of Scotland were often described as “quiet”, unbeknownst to most that it was anything but. Except, Hogwarts lived up to the stereotype. Peaceful, tame, quiet.

Quiet.

God, you needed some quiet.

Exam season was narrowing in, which meant endless nights of caffeine and random studying music that you found on spotify, its main purpose to help you concentrate. It was unfortunate, with the school year coming to a close, but you were determined to leave the year proud and satisfied with your work. Everything was going perfectly so far. Nothing could screw it up.

This is what you told yourself as you began your walk to school this morning. Leaving your house at seven in the morning on the dot had become the regular for you. Now that Summer was finally coming in, the walks were warm, without chilling breezes. You could feel comfortable with the wind in your hair and a light shirt on your back.

Something felt tranquil about this morning in particular. You didn’t feel held up or anxious. You didn’t even feel stressed as you busily organised your school bag this morning. You didn’t even blink an eye when you dropped your chemistry textbook on your foot. You were in a good mood. You were glowing.

Maybe it was because you had been getting some amazing sex from your amazing boyfriend lately.

Maybe.

But today wasn’t for what ifs. Today, you had one thing on your mind. A conversation needed to be had between you and your guidance counsellor, as the prospects of colleges were starting to roll around. Applications were beginning to close and your aspirations for life after high school were beginning to get clearer and clearer. You no longer wanted to be tied down in a small town, where the most important job you could get was at the Mayor’s office, sitting at a desk, listening to the complaints of highly egotistical citizens.

Wasn’t for you.

Your mind drifted off to your could-be life, and before you knew it, your legs had walked to your boyfriend’s house without you even realising. It was something unconscious and natural, something you were completely used to. The sight of the grand, three-story mansion that your lover lived in brought unprecedented comfort.

The spiralling pillars covered in the greenest of vines was something from a fairytale. A pale cerulean was painted across the panelling, giving a dream-like feel. Right above the front door housed a giant window, one that opened up into James’ bedroom.

Right. James.

Walking up the path, you felt comforted by the familiar sound of gravel beneath your feet. It reminded you of all the nights you had snuck up this very path to climb into James’ bedroom via the window. Nostalgic really.

Now you were here in broad daylight, ready to walk hand in hand with your boyfriend to school. Knocking on the front door, you were excited to see a nearly immediate opening of the door, with a very joyous boy standing there. His signature dopey smile glistened even brighter, as his eyes lingered over your clothed body a little longer than expected. His tongue shot out very quickly over the pink cushions of his lips, something you could’ve missed in a blink of an eye, but you didn’t. Laughing, he pushed his glasses up the nose of his bridge, before running his fingers through his unruly hair.

“Should we go then?” It sounded as though it was the first time James had spoken this morning, a fact that you didn’t mind, as your brain thought unholy things when listening to his gravely morning voice.

“Soon.” You mumbled, your voice trailing off slightly, as you stepped towards James, swinging your arms around the back of his neck. Taking a breath of his scent, you leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss upon his lips. They were slightly chapped, but you didn’t care.

It may have been a Summer day, but that wasn’t the only reason you were feeling hot.

Stopping yourself before you went too far, you pulled backwards, not before suggestively running your hands down James’ chest, smirking against his lips. “Come on, let's go.” You remarked playfully, smacking your hand lightly against James’ firm butt, which elicited a short laugh from the bubbly man.

So, hand in hand, you and James darted down his footpath, back into the street. Even more birds had woken up by now, with a choir of chirping serenading your descent into the bustling streets of Hogwarts.

Everything now seemed a little more public than you initially thought. Neighbours were waking up and going to work now too, giving no shorter than five second glances at you and James’ hand intertwined. You know what they would say; old people gossiped too much for your liking. It made you especially nervous, knowing that your parents didn’t know about your illicit relationship. Maybe it should stay that way. Well, before any neighbours get a little too gossipy in the weekly book club meetings.

“Are you listening to me?” James asked, snapping you out of your thoughtful haze. Blinking twice, you returned your attention to James, who’s eyes were laced with concern as he looked you over once again, eyebrows furrowed. “You seem out of it.”

“Oh, sorry.” Your voice came out almost silently as you looked away, flushed and embarrassed. “What were you talking about?”

“How I was going to fuck you so hard later today that you are going to struggle to walk.” James followed his statement with a dash of laughter, something that you mimicked like a pirate’s parrot.

“Well, I hope that’s not a joke, my dear.” You flashed a sly smile, looking James up and down. You both stopped walking, with James now admiring the way you were biting your lip, as if you were a siren trying to entrap him. Surely, you guys wouldn’t quickly dash away into the bush and go for a quickie right now, right?

James thought about it too, eyeing up someone’s poor hydrangea bush. Unfortunately, there would be too many witnesses, and exhibitionism wasn’t something you had both openly discussed before, although it wasn’t completely off the table.

“Lunch period.” James finally said, stopping his momentary halt, and marching forward.

“Lunch period?”

James leaned over, pressing his lips so close to your ear. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine, ones that ended in your core. “Meet me in the hallway between the chemistry and physics lab. I think there’s a new cupboard we could Christen.”

Giggling in excitement, you rubbed your fingers up the length of James’ arm, tugging him down the footpath, continuing your conversation about whatever. You learnt that he had a History test today, all about women earning the right to vote. You sighed as you listened to him talk about what he was passionate about, his stressed vowel sounds turning you on more than you would’ve thought.

Then came a predicament. An actual, real life crossroad. Right in front of you was where the footpath curved to the left, following along the road onto the main road through town. It was the way you went every day, with the road taking you directly to school when you walked along it, arriving perfectly at seven twenty-five every day. It was ideal.

This morning, though, you were feeling cheeky. From this footpath curve was another opportunity. The footpath also opened into a dirt path, something that twisted into the woods, or, as the conspiracy theorists of the town called it, the Forbidden Forest. It was hardly forbidden though; they literally took Scouts classes there, and those have kids as young as seven in them.

Feeling devilish, you paused James for a moment, the cogs turning over in your brain. You might arrive at school a little later than you first thought, but at least you would have some distance between the prying eyes of the Hogwarts neighbourhood. And maybe, you could have a little bit of fun too.

“James,” you smirked, tugging at the edge of his shirt, capturing his attention, something that wasn’t actually that hard to do, “shall we go for a detour this morning?”

Your eyes flashed over the forest and onto the quiet stillness of it. You could feel James’ heart rate speed up, but it wasn’t because he was scared. He was just as excited as you. It was like a switch had flicked on in his brain, although he was still hesitant, his feet still planted firmly on the ground.

“Are you sure?” James questioned. “How late is this going to make us?”

“Not that late at all.” You justified, mocking offence. “Oh, we should get there at maybe, quarter to eight? And besides, it’s fresh air, it’ll be good for us, and our lungs. Think of it as reversing the side effects of being around Sirius and Remus when they smoke all the time. Your lungs will thank us.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works.” James laughed.

“How would you be so sure?”

“I’m the one that takes biology out of the two of us.”

You had to try another tactic, so, you jutted your bottom lip out of your mouth, putting on your best doe eyes, hoping you could flutter your eyelashes enough for him to give into temptation. “Please?”

A sigh escaped James lips as he seemed to give in. His reluctant look of worry was quickly replaced by an eager spark. Knitting his fingers in with yours, you two walked hand and hand together down the dirt path. The change of feeling beneath your feet was almost instantly recognisable, the normal, smooth, concrete path replaced by the rough dirt, and slight mud, even though it hadn't rained in days.

As you continued to wander down the path, you were suddenly covered in a canopy of shade, as the trees of the forest soon covered your heads. The route got a tad darker, the path no longer illuminated with the light of the sun, not that you minded though. You could still easily see where you were going.

You felt a little colder without the extra heat from the sun. You didn’t like the way goosebumps rose on your skin or the way you had to rub your hands along your arm to keep yourself warm. You felt out of control, a feeling of which you loathed. You didn’t want your perfect morning to be ruined by a little chill.

When you reached a tall, winding tree, you stopped James from his walk, pulling him off the path. Luckily, you had spotted a small dip in the earth, perfect to stay in, somewhere where regular bystanders wouldn’t find you. Happy with your discovery, you looked back at James, who had a puzzled look across his face.

“What’s going on?”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked breathlessly, your hands already getting fidgety. You wanted to be connected with James again, intertwined if you will. You needed to feel his skin, even if it was barely quarter past seven in the morning.

“Yes, love.” James breathed out, his voice quiet and shallow. WIth the consent, you leaned upwards, connecting your lips at last. It felt right to be pressed up against each other once again, even if it had been only yesterday when you had last felt such passion.

You deepened the kiss, feeling urgent to make the most of the short time you had together. Your mouths melded together almost perfectly, your lips pushing against each other like a playful pillow fight, one which you were determined to win.

Feeling mischievous, you reached to James’ hair, tugging lightly on his roots, an action you knew he liked. This action got the response you wanted from him, a needy moan, in which you took the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, battling it out with his own, regaining confidence and dominance.

You pulled away, your cheeks flushed from the lack of oxygen. James looked disheveled but pleased, wanting to continue your little make out session, but unfortunately, you had limited time.

“Can I suck you off?” You whispered against his mouth innocently, looking up at his hazel eyes, brushing his hair off of his forehead. You could hear him gulp with nervousness, before nodding quickly, his hands making their way to his slacks.

You knew James was slipping into a mindset clouded by arousal, so you sank to your knees slowly in front of him, still looking up at him through your long lashes. On your journey downwards, you carefully unzipped the zipper on his pants, pulling them down to ankles, until he was clad in only his boxers.

Lifting yourself up slightly onto the balls of your feet, you kissed him lightly on the outside of his boxers, feathering gentle kisses. You knew you were being a tease, but you needed him nice and hard. As you felt his bulge setting like cement under your lips, you lifted your hands up, joining your lips so you could palm him, stroking the material.

When James started moaning, - “oh please, stop teasing, I beg you,” - you released him from the cage of his underwear, dragging the clothing down the apex of his things, watching the muscles twitch in excitement. There, James’ half hard cock laid against his thighs, the tip a gentle rouge colour.

Your fingers grazed over his prick, lightly tracing a prominent vein of the underside of the sex muscle. James groaned in pleasure, the teasing getting too much for him to handle. Feeling benevolent, you dribbled saliva over the tip of the cock, before wrapping your entire hand around it. You started stroking harder and faster, making sure James could feel all of you in a way you hand. He was starting to fall apart above you, but it wasn;t enough.

“So- so good.” James murmured, his eyes gently shutting as he became lost in the feeling. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop. I love your hands, so perfect, so precise. Perfect for me, precise for me.”

“It was like you were made for me.” You agreed with the raven haired boy, before bringing your lips down to the tip of his penis. This action shocked James, but the whimper out of his mouth made you know he was enjoying it. Living from the excitement of the exhibisionist route, you swiveled your tongue across the tip, reaching down the length of the cock, savouring his taste.

“Right there.” James moane, as you brung the rest of your mouth down over his now fully hard cock, reveling in the flavour of the salty precum that was leaking from his angry tip. With a smooth rhythm, you bobbed your head up and down on James’ cock, the sound of his moans itching you on.

You knew you were running out of time, and you still wanted him to cum, so you sped up your movements on James’ cock, stroking the base of his cock, which could not fit in your mouth. Adding to the pleasure, you let your hands move downwards a bit more, so they played gently with James’ hanging balls.

This applied pressure was becoming too much for James, as his breath became laboured and a tingling feeling was nearly bursting at his cock. “I’m gonna cum, please, I’m going to do it.”

You lifted your mouth off of James’ cock, just to murmur, “let go.” James, with your permission, spurted his cum across your hands. Eager to savour him, you opened your mouth, catching as much of the milking substance as possible, not wanting to waste any of it. Jacking James off through the entire thing, you watched as his orgasm crashed over him entirely, the way his face contorted in pleasure almost being the most beautiful portrait to you.

Licking the rest of his cum off of your fingers, you stood up, wiping your knees off, as the dirt sticking to you was becoming slightly uncomfortable. While you stood up, you reached from the top of James’ pants, pulling them upwards as you went.

“Thanks.” James almost laughed, except he still sounded out of breath, which was very reasonable though. You did just suck the life out of him. His fingers worked quickly, rearranging his pants, and cock, so that you both could continue on your way to school.

As you waited for James to finish cleaning himself up, your nose turned upwards. There was a strange smell coming from the area, one you didn’t notice before when you were on your knees in front of James. It was a smell that you were relatively unfamiliar with, but all you knew was that it stank like rotten meat.

“Can you smell that?” You asked James, looking off into the little ditch you were beside. Wherever you were, it seemed that it had been recently disturbed. Broken twigs snapped into pieces laid amongst crunched up leaves. If you squinted, you were sure you could even make out that faintest of footprints on the ground. It was odd, but nothing you haven't seen before in the woods. The smell on the other hand…

“Smells like thrown out vegetables.” James readjusted his glasses before holding out his hand, inviting you to close your fingers in with his. “I bet some old granny thought it would be a good idea to throw out their compost in the woods. If the council found out, they would have a fit. You know all about their weirdly tight rules on littering? It’s not even bad for the environment.”

You had stopped listening a while ago. Something didn’t feel right, but it was nothing you could sort out now. You weren’t satisfied but you turned back towards James anyway, knowing that you needed to head off to school or you would be running a little bit behind schedule. As you turned around, you noticed James’ face morph from a cheeky grin to a concerned frown.

“What is it?” You pondered, stepping towards James, matching his pear-shaped frown with one of your own.

“Did you cut yourself when you were on your knees?”

“Huh?”

“Look.” James bent down to look at your knees and you turned your head down too. What you thought had just been a bit of dirt must’ve been something else. Your knees were covered in a browny-red, maybe a maroon colour. It looked as though your entire knee had been cut open, as blood was still dripping from your skin, but that couldn’t be right. You felt no pain on your knee. You hadn’t cut yourself.

Swiping your fingers across your knee, you gathered some of the drying blood on your fingers. This was the first time you had looked at your hands since you wiped off your knees before and you saw that you had smudged blood stains all across your palm. You nearly barfed on the spot. You felt incredibly uneasy, like a stormy ocean filled your stomach.

You lifted your fingers up to your nose, a theory hypothesising into your head, and you were right. The smell of the blood matched the rotten meat smell you could smell before. As if you were a dog, the odor latched onto your nose and expanded, its putrid smell being the only thing in your senses.

“I'm going to be sick.” You doubled over a rock. Resting your hand against a boulder, you hovered downwards over a patch of leaves, letting your breakfast out. Your head was reeling as you could still smell the retching odor of the old blood. You couldn’t get it out of your mind, so you leaned over again, round two of the hurling intervention.

James rushed over to you, placing his warm hands on your back, rubbing soothing circles. He wished he could say that his main focus was to make you feel better, but it wasn’t. Over in the deepest part of the dish, he noticed something strange. It was almost like a small lump in the ground, something unnatural. It seemed to be covered very messily by old leaves and sticks, and an entire tree branch, as if it would make it any less inconspicuous. It even had that opposite of the desired effect, seemingly sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Darling,” James waited until you lifted your head back up, regaining your breath once again, “what do you think that is?”

James’ hand pointed into the direction of the ditch, in which you followed his eyesight and body movements. You could see it too; just a lump in the ground. Your mind was racing of what it could be. A dead animal? A pile of rotten food? Maybe a…

“Holy shit!” You had only just realised that James had already walked over there, except his body was covering your eye line, and you couldn’t actually see what James had found. Although, he told you immediately. “Quick, call the police. It’s a body.”

A dead body in Hogwarts? Making sure you didn’t lose any more of your stomach through puking, you rushed onto the path in the woods, grabbing your phone out of your pocket, hoping you could get service all the way out here in the woods. Fumbling to turn your phone on, you nearly groaned out in annoyance when you saw that you were getting no bars of service.

Running back to James, you couldn’t stop at the moment. You called out to him, your words a blurred mess, trying to convey to him that you were going to find someone to help. Unsure if he had even heard you, you ran back down the path, your feet carrying you to where you needed to go, unable to bring yourself to a cohesive thought.

When you exited the forest, you flicked your head around, trying to find someone, anyone, that could help in the moment. The first person you saw was your calculus teacher, Mr Slughorn, to which you promptly called out to.

“Mr Slughorn!” You cupped your hands around your mouth to project your words across louder. Mr Slughorn snapped his head around and gave a friendly wave. Annoyed, you shook your head. “Call the police!”

“What?” He called back, walking towards you now. You groaned, trying again.

“There's a dead body in the forest. Call the police!”

***

lmao. anyway this has become a series whoops.

[plethora-of-imagines]

Human Custom

AN: So this fic started as an anon that just kept getting longer and became it’s own fic. Which is why I am not yet done answering anons. The idea was so soft and let me tell you anon, I spent many nights just rereading this prompt and thinking it was so very soft. I’m not too happy with how the Master sounds in this as it is more from his POV and I don’t have a great grasp on Dhawan!Master’s POV but I tried my best!

Word Count: 1773

Description: Written based off of this anon

Tag List: @c-s-stars @queerconfusionthings @how-masterful @truthbehindthemysteries

The Master huffed and rolled his eyes at all of the gaudy Valentine's gifts still on display in the store. He honestly believed they should just throw them all out the second it was the 15th. It was bad enough to have to see them before the “most romantic day of the year”. He couldn’t believe that he had to subject himself to this just because you had forgotten something while doing the shopping. Of course, you couldn’t just do without. So someone had to go get what you forgot. Lucky him.

To be fair he probably shouldn’t have volunteered to go for you so you didn’t have to feel embarrassed about the shop staff seeing you come back for something. You had been absolutely adorable when you pressed your face into his chest bemoaning your forgetfulness. It had made him forget how much he hated going shopping like this on Earth. It reminded him too much of the 77 years he had been trapped without a TARDIS. Which always left him in a touchy, annoyed mood.

The two teen boys blocking his way past as they slowly walked down the aisle were pissing him off too. If it wouldn’t cause even more trouble for him he would just TCE them both and be done with it. He took a deep breath. He would just push past them soon and continue on his way. It was fine. He would get what you had forgotten and you would jokingly call him "your hero". Giving him a soft, loving kiss for his troubles. It would be worth the annoyances to make you happy.

The Master had no choice but to listen to the two kid's conversation with the volume they were talking at. Wonderful.

“Look man, it’s complete bullshit that she didn’t tell you she was moving until yesterday!”

“She just wanted us to have a normal date before telling me that we would be going long-distance okay?”

The Master wanted to roll his eyes so hard that they fell out of his skull. He did not want to be stuck listening to lower lifeforms and their romantic struggles. He settled instead for slowly dragging his hand down his face. 

"I'm just gonna get her one of those stereotypical bears holding a heart stuffed animals to give her before she moves. It's on sale so it's not going to cost me much if she does end up breaking up with me."

"Fair enough, man. It's your money."

Stereotypical bear? Was this some customary holiday gift or something? The Master had to admit he was curious.

Then he saw them. Dozens of bears of different sizes and colors. Most of which were holding a heart-shaped pillow with the words "I love you" on it. He wanted to be disgusted by them but then the image of you clutching and cuddling a bear after falling asleep while waiting for him to join you entered his thoughts. You would probably love it, and it would be absolutely precious seeing you cuddling a stuffed animal he got for you. He needed to get one for you now. The image would consume his mind until he gave in to it.

He examined a few of them trying to decide which one would be the least insufferable to buy and carry back to you. They all seemed too human of a gift. He couldn't see himself handing you one of these. Besides none of them were the size he imagined. The Master wanted it to be half the size of you, something you could curl around comfortably. Something inhumanly soft for you to smush your face into as he teased you for your bed head and sleepy expression after waking up.

This store may be too human but humans spread across the universe in the future taking their customs and holidays with them. It shouldn't be too hard to find something that fit what he pictured. Something big, soft, and decidedly not human-like. And none of that cliche "I love you" on a heart stuff. He could get something much more profound for you.

The Master rushed back towards the TARDIS. He knew just where to go to get what he wanted. Brushing past you he began to take off immediately. 

"Did you get the milk?” You asked in bewilderment at his hasty actions.

“They were out.”

Well fuck. He forgot that there had been a reason he was in that store in the first place. Perhaps he shouldn't have rushed off in such a hurry.

“They were out of milk,” your tone was completely flat.

You definitely didn’t believe his lie. Why didn’t he think of a believable lie instead of just saying the first thing he thought of?

“Okay, fine! I thought of something that I need to buy before I got to the milk. Two birds, one stone situation. I can get both the milk and what I need from the store I am going to.”

You wrapped your arms around him, leaning your head against his body. His body relaxing as you held onto him. He loved you so much for being so understanding.

"Okay, Master. As long as we do get some milk. We really need some so I can bake and you can make us hot chocolate. I'm still jealous that you make hot chocolate so much better than I do. One day I'll learn your secret."

Closing his eyes for just a moment the Master enjoyed the comfort of your embrace. Once the TARDIS landed he reluctantly left your arms. He had a plan to accomplish.

"I'll be back. And this time I won't forget to grab some milk."

"Oooh, you did forget. You admit it!"

He playfully booped your nose. Anyone other than you talking to him like that wouldn't survive the next minute. When you did it, it was fine. In fact, it was encouraged.  He loved it when you were playful with him. He wanted you to have no fear of him, to treat him like an ordinary person. Even if he couldn't be any further from ordinary.

"Well if someone else hadn't forgotten in the first place we wouldn't be in this position."

You covered your face with your hands as you flusteredly cried out, "Nooo, don't remind me!" with a laugh. You were too adorable to handle. He would never get over it. If he ever lost you somewhere - and he would never dare lose you- he could just describe you as adorable and you would be quickly found.

His errand didn’t take long at all, especially when he chose to have the inhuman stuffed animal sent to the TARDIS by teleportation. In no time at all, he was back by your side smiling to himself as he presented you with the milk. He had been successful in getting just the right stuffed animal for you. You would be wonderfully surprised.

"Did you get what you needed?"

You were soft in your curiosity. Not pushing too much for an answer but expressing your interest in what he did.

"Yes. It should be here shortly. I asked for it to be packaged and sent so I didn't have to carry it and the milk."

"I'll be back soon then. I'm just going to go put this away before I manage to forget."

Perfect. By the time you got back to the console room, the box should be here for you to open. He watched you leave. The moment you were gone he lowered the TARDIS shields so that the gift could be delivered. Just as he put the shields back up you walked back in.

"What did you need to get? The box is huge!"

"Open it and find out."

You gave him a wary look as if you feared that he was playing a prank on you. The Master didn't let it bother him, your reaction should more than makeup for your minor distrust. It’s not as if it wasn’t justified. He had played pranks on you this way before. The joyous laughter and smile on your face when you pulled the stuffed animal out of the box sped his hearts up. It was some weird combination of a bunch of standard anatomy of different animal species found in the universe. With fins, tentacles, and antenna. Half the size of you, you could just barely bring your arms completely around it. He had made sure that it was as soft as possible, softer than any other stuffed animal in the universe.

Gasping, you moaned out into the stuffed animal as you smushed your face into it. "Master it's so soft!"

You pranced over to him, your face still pressed into the stuffed animal. You were ever more precious and adorable than he had imagined you would be.

You popped your head out from behind the stuffed animal to ask him curiously, " what does it say, Master?".

He didn't want to admit what it said. It almost felt embarrassing to say.

"What? Don't you know?"

"I can guess but you know that I can't read it! The TARDIS likes teasing me too much."

You playfully pouted at the TARDIS by looking up towards the ceiling. In truth, the reason the TARDIS rarely translated for you within her walls was to ensure the two of you spent time together. The Master never tried to hide how much he adored holding you in his lap as he read to you for hours. So his TARDIS created opportunities for him but refusing to translate while you were in the TARDIS if not necessary. He sighed. He might as well tell you before you assumed it was something as generic as "I love you" written on the heart.

"It says, you are my universe."

He messed up. You had tears starting to form in your eyes. What had he done? This was a terrible idea. His hands moved to cradle your face, prepared to wipe away any tears.

"Oh no, don't cry! Shh, shh , sh. It's okay."

"Sorry, I just- this is just really sweet and I'm a bit overwhelmed. M' not sad if that's what you're worried about Master."

Shifting the stuffed animal to one side you moved in close to hug him. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Your lips as sweet and soft as they always were. He could never tire of the sensation of your lips against each other.

"I love you, Master."

It wasn't the first time you had said it. But his heart swelled all the same as this time he held you close in his arms.

[atticusm]

*clears throat* hi, is this thing working? i’m candy, broadcasting from aest and i go by she/her pronouns. may i present my baby atticus! i did not intent for this introduction to get as long as it has, so i am sooOOOooo sorry about that. in short, this is my kindergarten teacher that takes a while to warm up to people but likes to talk ... take that as you will. he likes to have fun when he’s in the mood and loves his job and will do anything for his loved ones. give this a like if you’d like to plot and i’ll head to your dms, or hmu either or! stats, wanted connections and all that jazz to come i’m just to excited. ENJOY :’) @mapleviewstarters​

full name : atticus james maitland  nickname(s) : ace , atta , atti ( rare ) birth date : october twenty-seven zodiac sign : scorpio age : twenty-seven   gender : cis male pronouns : he / him / his sexual orientation : bisexual romantic orientation : biromantic education : high school diploma , bachelor of arts in elementary education , teaching license/certification

tw: infidelity. 

BACKGROUND

born three years after his older brother, atticus was brought into what seemed to be a happy, stereotypical “ everyday ” family  - yet by the age of two karissa and heath maitland’s mariage was anything but a joyous one. to the outside world the maitland family were the one’s that would be there whenever someone needed a helping hand, would be the first to put their hand up for community activities, be seen smiling and have no qualms. behind closed doors, however, that was not the case. 

atticus grew up with his mother and father arguing profusely or even barely speaking to each other on a regular basis. there were times that they got along, of course, but atticus always looks back on his childhood filled with tension. like he was walking on eggshells. the most he had fun with his family was when they went on holidays or were out and about in general, simply because his parents would put on an act. dare anybody in mapleview know what was going on between them. 

when atticus began to find his voice, he began to step in when his parents would argue; telling them to stop though it would only get him so far. sometimes they wouldn’t hear him when he was very young, or they would demand him go to his room and they were having an adult discussion. as time went on, karissa would back down and she, atticus and his brother would often go for a walk together. they would often talk about everything about anything, would find something to do together and she soon became his favourite person. 

when it came to school, he went through phases of loving it, then hating it and then coming around to loving it again. this didn’t change much all the way through to the end of high school. there was a lot he liked about school as he got older - mainly because he could get out of the house and talk to people, find new things to do and explore new interests. some interests his parents wouldn’t be too happy to hear about, like getting his first stick and poke tattoo at sixteen in his best friends basement.

around the start of his final year of high school, a fight between karissa and heath broke out as per normal in the early hours of the morning. it had woken atticus from the slamming of doors and screaming between them, but what took him from his bed was the sound of their family car leaving the driveway. he doesn’t ever remember seeing his mother cry before that point, and seeing her sitting on the back porch in the moonlight trying to muffle her crying broke him. 

turns out heath had been had been having an affair, and it wasn’t the first time he had cheated on karissa. it had happened when he was seven, though they had agreed to work through it for the two boys - much to atticus’ disgust. he sat with her that night, and although she didn’t want to to begin with, she let him comfort her and she talked about it all to him. 

by the end of his senior year, his parents had were living in separate houses and filling for divorce. and atticus was all for it as much as it hurt him. he knew it would be for the best. they couldn’t stay together any longer and the fact they stayed together for him and his brother riddled him with guilt. not only did he feel guilty for being the reason they stayed together, he also felt bad for how people would’ve seen their family after the divorce was finalized. 

COLLEGE/TEACHING

atticus went straight to college, not wanting to muck around and waste time in getting his degree. he studies hard, but that didn’t mean he didn’t party hard. one third of college was spent drunk/hungover, another was spent with his head in the books and the other was on practical work placement. the minute he stepped into a classroom on his student teaching placement he knew there was no turning back ( not that the debt would be a deterrence ). 

he graduated at twenty-two, spent one school year as a teaching assistant at the elementary school and applied the year of his twenty-forth birthday. luckily, he got the job as a kindergarten teacher. this will be his third year teaching kindergarten. 

atticus has always loved children and has always been interested in the idea of teaching, specifically younger children. he loves always learning new things, which teaching can certainly do for him, but mainly he wants to be able to impact the lives of children in a positive way and make a difference. children are the leaders of tomorrow and if he can make that difference, make a child smile or make coming to school fun, then he feels like he’s accomplished something in his life. he knows that he remembers his teachers that made him feel like he could do anything and be who he wanted to be. not only that, but he certainly needed a positive adult figure at that age when home life was filled with such tension.  

PRESENT

at the moment, atticus is renting a nice little house in chestnut drive while he saves for his own house. he is very comfortable with who he is and whoever thinks otherwise is free to their opinion, but he doesn’t care for it. 

he is not on speaking turns with his father, and hasn’t been since mid college. he would rather chew off his own arm than speak to him. atticus is well aware he is holding a gruge, but he doesn’t care; maybe in ten years time he’ll loosen up but not any time soon. thankfully, heath moved out of town so not speaking to him makes it easier.

this is all i have for now but let’s build on this by plots!

PERSONALITY

atticus can have a lot of fun, you just have to get him in the right mood. he won’t go out for night on the town if he’s feeling low because he’s just going to have a depressive come down and how self destructive he can be. he had his reckless days, and he’s more aware of the consequences his actions cause. 

with that being said! he’s very social, loves to talk as long as it’s not about himself too deeply. will be that guy that won’t leave you sitting alone and will engage in conversation with anyone about almost anything.

his moods can be very up and down, leaving him to be very unpredictable. one week he’ll be very happy and cheery and the next he’ll be extra reserved, keeping to himself and his thoughts. 

atticus keeps people at a distance and will be very suspicious of those he doesn’t know. there are times he honestly wishes he could be a mind reader because it would put him at ease ( at least a little bit ). it takes him a long time to warm up to people and when he does, he forms very deep connections with them. he has a lot of people he knows, but few close friends. 

touching on that, he will do just about anything for those he cares for. he is vengeful, cunning and will bide his time to take out his payback if need be if someone hurts his loved ones. he will always keep his job in the back of his mind, and if he needs to, he will get someone to do his dirty work for him ( don’t come at me for it ). when he cares for you, you’re basically like family to him. 

he is a very caring, loving gentleman and affectionate deep in his core. whenever a child comes in upset, after making sure the class is working away in groups, he’ll talk to them. or whenever they’re hurt, he’s the first one they call over. in his personal life, atticus is definitely the person you can ring in the middle of the night if you need help and he will be there one he’s made a quick instant coffee for the both of you. 

very very passionate about his job! atticus stays up late some nights looking for new work ideas, stays back late to hang up artwork, is in early more often than not to make sure the classroom is set up just right. 

he loves to express himself through his clothes; wearing colours and patterns and flared pants. much like harry but tries not to go too over the top for the workplace. catch him after work showing off those tattoos ( that i will write about on his stats page ) with low cut tops and patterned vests, or silk pants, ruffled blouses. that is where his money goes. 

[artificialqueens]

Blue Neighborhood Series: HEAVEN (Brita/Aiden) - Mac

AN: Meggie is my love and my personal guardian angel. All my love and thanks to her for betaing and being my cheerleader.

Summary: Brita is straight. Aiden is annoying. Yet somehow they seem to make a pretty good pair.

Brita smiled instinctively down at her phone vibrating in her hand.

A: what are ure plans during lit class

She quirked an eyebrow up as she typed out a reply.

B: Lit class.

Aiden’s next message came only seconds later.

A: boo

A: that’s boring

Brita chuckled under her breath.

A: come to the bleachers

A: we can throw rocks at the PE class

B: Isn’t that dangerous?

A: no we should be fine

B: For THEM?

A: oh

A: yeah

A: thats the fun part

Brita couldn’t help the giggle she let bubble out.

B: Fine.

Aiden sent her back a smiley face with a tongue sticking out, and Brita again found herself marveling at how such a small gesture made such strong affection bloom in her chest.

Not that she would ever admit it.

Because then Aiden would get a big head and start listing off all the reasons she was superior to every living thing. Brita knew her well enough by now, after a week of non-stop texting, to know what she would do.

Her friends thought it was weird. Specifically, Jackie. Even though she had been there the night of Heidi’s revenge that the two made their initial connection.

“I just never pegged you being Aiden’s type, that’s all,” Jackie had joked.

Brita had insisted that it wasn’t like that. She had a boyfriend. She was straight.

“So is pasta till you heat it up,” Gigi teased.

Brita had rolled her eyes and ignored their comments. It wasn’t weird. She was just making a new friend. A new friend that wasn’t involved in every other aspect of her life the way, Jan, Jackie, and Gigi were. It was actually really nice to have an outsider’s perspective a lot of the time, and Aiden was the definition of an outsider, with her short jet black hair and pallid complexion, as well as her inability to stand anyone else for longer than a few minutes. Her narcissism and general disdain for humanity were surprisingly refreshing to someone like Brita, who, as Aiden had pointed out, was ‘perpetually joyous.’

Brita had called her pretentious for using the word perpetually but had smiled nonetheless at the title.

As she made her way out the side door of the school and headed toward the bleachers, she noted the skip in her step and found that she brushed it off without any real concern. Brita’s heart was hammering in her chest as she rounded the platform to look up into the bleachers.

Aiden stuck out like a small girl wearing mostly black in rows and rows of empty bleachers did.

“Took you long enough,” she teased as Brita climbed the steps.

Brita rolled her eyes. “The bell just rang, you idiot.”

“Idiot? You’re the one skipping class, stupid.”

“So are you!”

Aiden shook her head. “I always skip class.”

“Well, aren’t you so cool,” Brita teased. “What next, you’re gonna tell me you drive a motorcycle and wear leather jackets unironically?”

Aiden opened her mouth to speak but bit her tongue on a reply.

“No!” Brita exclaimed.

Blotches of color jumped to Aiden’s cheeks, and she hid her face in her hands.

“You don’t! Really?” Brita gasped dramatically. “You drive a motorcycle, oh my god, Aiden.”

“You’re the worst.” Aiden groaned.

“You are such a stereotype.” Brita chuckled.

“I am not the bad girl lesbian stereotype.”

“You so are.”

Aiden lifted her head to shoot Brita a death glare, but she only succeeded for a few seconds before they both burst into a fit of giggles.

“Well, your nickname is Brita so I’m not sure I should really care what you think.”

Brita grinned. “At least I don’t have a boy name. Did your parents plan on you being a lesbian?”

“Did your parents plan on you being a water filter? What the fuck kinda question is that?”

Brita chuckled, deep and loud and she wondered in the back of her mind why her chest felt so light, and her head so heavy. It was unlike anything she had felt before. But then again, Aiden seemed to always be pulling things from her that she hadn’t expected.

“So what’s the game plan?” Brita asked.

Aiden smiled and outstretched a hand.

She led Brita back down the steps and around to the rough gravel that covered the ground beneath the bleachers. Aiden pointed at the small gaps in the metal, just wide enough to throw something through if you aimed it right.

Brita learned this the hard way after attempting to throw some of the gravel pieces and having them ricochet back at her at alarming speeds.

Aiden just laughed at her and made fun of her aim.

When students began running around the track, warming up for class, Aiden actually managed to nail a few of them in the legs. Brita did her best to go with the flow, but after Aiden nailed some girl in the head, Brita managed to convince her to chill out for a second.

They sat on the rough gravel, Brita surprised to find herself unconcerned with the scrapes she would definitely have later.

They fell into comfortable bickering. Aiden making fun of Brita for masking her insecurity by being popular. Brita making fun of Aiden for being edgy as a defense mechanism to keep people from hurting her.

Normal friend stuff.

Brita noticed sometime after a while that they were actually sitting closer than she had thought previously. She could make out Aiden’s face more clearly. Could see the pores in her forehead and the wrinkle beside her left eye that was deeper than the others.

And just as soon as she noticed that she noticed Aiden’s lips inching closer to hers and she wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly their lips were pressed together like an accordion and she felt tingling from her spine to her toes.

Just as soon as it had happened, Brita felt a hand on her shoulder and a booming voice in her ear declaring detention.

Brita didn’t have enough time to process before she was being pulled by the back of her shirt toward the school. She ducked her head in shame and went about the rest of her day to the best of her abilities, all the while trying to ignore the pit in her stomach and the way she could still taste licorice on her lips if she thought too hard.

When the final bell rang, dismissing them, Brita made her way to the math department hallway, slowly, loath for anyone to catch her going to detention and possibly asking questions she wasn’t sure she had the answers to.

Brita took the first available seat, pointedly ignoring that Aiden was already there and sitting atop the box air conditioner unit by the window.

To make matters worse, they were the only two students that had gotten detention that day. This was according to Mr. Matthews, the home economics teacher who barely made the effort to show up before claiming he had business to attend to in his office, and left the two girls alone in the classroom with a warning to stay put.

When Aiden rolled her eyes pointedly, Mr. Matthews reminded the two of them that he would be contacting their parents about the matter if they couldn’t behave appropriately at school.

“Fuck.” Brita exhaled as soon as the door shut. “Fuck.”

“Shut up,” Aiden groaned.

“You shut up,” Brita snapped. “Fuck,” she repeated. “My parents can’t know.”

Aiden gave an aborted laugh. “It’s 2020 if they still give a fuck about having a gay daughter then-”

“I’m not gay,” Brita cut her off.

Aiden’s posture stiffened, almost reflexively.

“I’m not,” Brita repeated.

“You kissed me,” Aiden spoke softly, testing out the words on her tongue.

Brita shook her head. “Well, y-you didn’t stop me.”

“I didn’t wanna stop you,” Aiden said simply.

“Aiden!” Brita exclaimed, turning to get a full look of the other girl.

She just shrugged. “I am gay. I’m not gonna stop a pretty girl from kissing me.”

Brita did her best to ignore that Aiden calling her pretty made her stomach jump.

Her best didn’t seem to be enough because her brain, ever the helpful tool it was, decided that was a perfect time to bombard her with images to the contrary of her statement. Flashes of Aiden’s smile, her dimples, the night they chased each other around the grocery store to Jackie’s displeasure.

The way that Brita couldn’t describe how incredibly freeing it was to feel understood.

“What’s wrong?” Aiden asked.

“I’m not gay.”

The black-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because you don’t believe me.”

Aiden just shrugged. “You’re right, I don’t.”

“Why not?” Brita questioned. “I’m girly, I’m a cheerleader for christ sakes. I like pink, I’m a fan of pop music.”

“Oh c’mon all your fucking friends are gay, you’re not about to tell me any of those things make you less of a homo.”

“Not all my friends are gay. Jan is straight.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Aiden mumbled.

“Whatever.” Brita shrugged off the comment. “I like boys. I have a boyfriend.”

“Interesting that that isn’t the first thing you mention.”

“I’m flustered!” Brita exclaimed exasperatedly.

“You’re defensive. There’s a difference.”

“You aren’t helping.”

“When have you ever known me to be helpful?”

“I didn’t know you until a week ago.”

Aiden chuckled.

“What?” Brita asked exasperated.

“Nothing,” Aiden shook her head. “It’s just- you would be the one to forget.”

“Forget what?”

Aiden shot her a tight grin as she hopped off the air conditioning unit and walked over to Brita’s desk. “Growing up in the summer, you and me and all the other girls would pile onto our collective four bikes and ride to the ice cream shop.” Aiden shook her head, eyes crinkling up at the edges. “But you never wanted to ride, always said something about it being dangerous. So someone would have to walk with you because we were like six and pedophiles exist.”

Brita just stared at her in shock.

Aiden continued on. “Most of the time it was me. You and I would walk to the ice cream shop nearly every day in the summer.”

“Oh my god, you remember all that?”

Aiden shrugged simply, her shoulders coming up on either side of her head to wall her off from the outside world. “I remember a lot of things,” she attempted to say nonchalantly.

Brita could tell it meant more than the younger girl was letting on, but she let it go for now.

“Sometimes you insisted on holding hands too. That’s pretty gay,” Aiden threw out.

Brita bit back a chuckle, but the twinkling in Aiden’s eyes made it clear she hadn’t been as slick as she thought. “Why do you always know the right and wrong thing to say?”

“I’m good with people.”

Brita scoffed. “No, you’re not.”

“Well, not with them, but I understand them.”

“How?”

Aiden paused and picked at the skin around her thumbnail. “You learn a lot about people by watching them.”

“That’s creepy,” Brita said after a moment of thick tension.

Aiden shrugged.

“Like what?”

Aiden quirked an eyebrow up in confusion.

“Like what have you learned?” Brita reiterated.

Aiden chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Then show me.”

Aiden’s head whipped around, a smirk etched into the corner of her mouth.

“As you wish.”

She grabbed Brita’s hand and led her down the hallway, ignoring her concern that skipping out on detention was likely to land them in more detention. They headed to the opposite end of the school, through the hallways to the back of the art room, where Aiden stopped Brita from charging out with a hand.

She put her finger to her lips and then mimed taking a whiff.

Brita did as she suggested and inhaled deeply. She was almost knocked over by the stench of weed that filtered through the propped door.

“Mr. Mathhews smokes a joint out there every day after school,” Aiden whispered.

She took Brita’s hand again and led her next door to the theatre, up the stairs to the old prop room. They paused again outside the door and Brita could hear whispered curses and the repeated sound of skin slapping skin.

“Mr. Kressley and Mr. Rice get it on in the prop room every Tuesday while they tell their wives they’re in charge of academic club.”

Aiden took Brita’s hand again and pulled her across the hallway to a set of doors that lead toward the sports stadiums. She propped open the glass doors and leaned against the frame, letting the cool autumn air filter into the building.

Aiden pointed to the far line of trees that made up the side of the baseball field.

“And out in the sports shed, Dahlia sells her old essays to freshmen.”

Brita just looked at her in awe. No wonder Aiden thought she was better than everyone. She was sitting on all this information constantly, keeping everyone’s secrets.

“It’s funny, you know all this dirt on people,” she mused. “You could almost… I dunno, run a drama account or something,” Brita teased.

Aiden chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I could.”

Brita rolled her eyes.

When Aiden turned back around to look at her, they were close again, the same weird feeling taking root in Brita’s chest as she felt Aiden’s warm breath against her cheeks. This time, however, when Aiden moved closer, Brita stopped her with a hand to the younger girl’s chest.

Almost as soon as they made contact, something hard passed behind Aiden’s eyes and she pulled away like her skin burned.

“Aiden.” Brita sighed.

“I’m nobody’s girlfriend,” Aiden breathed, “but I thought we could at least be…”

Brita shook her head lightly. “I am somebody’s girlfriend.”

Aiden nodded once and set her jaw firmly before turning on her heel and heading down an adjacent hallway.

Brita let her go.

She went back to detention and finished the rest of her time, mind still processing the events of the day and her own feelings relating to them.

Sooner than she expected, Mr. Matthews dismissed her and warned her about landing here again. Brita took his advice seriously and nodded, thanking him as she exited the classroom, pulling out her phone reflexively.

She had two Instagram notifications; she had been sent a post and had been tagged in a post. She clicked on the link and felt her stomach fall to her feet.

The school drama account had updated.

It was a grainy picture from sometime in the past week of Brita and Aiden tucked away into a corner of the school. Brita’s head was thrown back in a laugh, and an all too familiar smirk was plastered on Aiden’s face.

The caption made the churning in Brita’s stomach all the more painful.

Opposites attract.

[probably-writing-x]

Fleeting Moments (i)

Warnings : Mentions of anxiety, depression and mental illness.

~~~

Her fingers hung over strings searching for any rhythm that she could find inside of her body. There was nothing. No joy, no sadness, no excitement. And even now, there was no pain. It was all just nothing.

'Waiting for as long as you need'.

The words rung in her head like a stuck record. A record she heard but couldn't listen to. Couldn't hold with her and compress into the pocketed comfort of a memory.

So here she was. An empty guitar and an empty vessel of the human she once was...

~~~Three Months Prior~~~

Summer. Sun, sea and absolutely no school.

It was all just bittersweet for Ivy. Summer in this family meant working enough to make money to keep helping her parents and find more for all of Leo's school supplies. Her eight year old brother meant the world to her but his juvenile mind couldn't understand any concept of money problems. So she acted as though they weren't there. And every year, without fail, she would find the money to buy all of the new shoes and backpacks and pencils that had suddenly become popular in his class.

"Ivy, honey, are you nearly ready?" Her father's aging voice called out from downstairs, not aging in years but aging more so in stress.

Ivy hadn't realised that the blurring condensation as residue from her shower had now dissipated from the mirror in front of her. So she just stood there, bare skin only shielded from her own burning eyes by the cotton towel tucked firmly under her arms.

"I'll be down in a minute Dad," She responded, all emotion seeming to have fallen down the drain with the water that stained her skin.

Within irrelevant minutes, Ivy had swapped the towel for a comfortable shield of skinny black jeans and a simple long-sleeved grey t-shirt. Stay as unseen as possible.

The house felt like it was separate from the serenity of her bedroom. There was usually an uncomfortable level of noise, a forgotten TV screen left on the morning news, the human alarm of her mother calling for everything to be on some unknown time schedule and of course, Leo's clattering toys.

"Morning Ivy," Her mum says absentmindedly, "I need you to take Leo to his friend's house today,"

"Mum I've got-" She starts, already knowing the words are futile.

"I know you have work at nine but you'll just have to be ten minutes late and stay ten minutes later," She cuts her daughter off, placing a set of house keys into her hand and spinning to continue with her million other tasks of the morning.

Ivy answers in silence, tugging on a pair of battered shoes she had worn more than enough and finding a suitable jacket for her brother.

"Leo come on," She calls, switching off the television to find some other way of helping, "Ready to go?"

Leo nods with no dispute and slips into his jacket and shoes calmly, making sure he grabbed his bag of random toys that would soon become the best possible imagination starters for him and whichever friend he would be with today.

He's already by the door by the time Ivy has grabbed her phone and his feet have touched ground with outside of this noise.

"Bye mum, bye dad," She raises her voice slightly to try to match the bustling building. She's met with a harsh silence.

The door closes behind her.

Leo's hand clung to her own and it felt like in some way that would boil some sort of happiness in her. And it always seemed to, just slightly.

"So where's your big adventure to today?" She asks, inquisitively hoping she would know the directions to wherever the house would be.

"Jake's," He responds, jumping up with excitement that seemed to burst from his feet, "We're going to be pirates,"

"Pirates?" She exclaims, lifting him up rest on her hip with his legs swinging either side of her, "And who's treasure will you be stealing?"

"No Ivy, we don't steal treasure!" He shakes his head, "We help people."

She chuckles slightly as they turn the corner, luckily to the street where Jake and his joyous family lived.

Leo wriggles down to the floor and runs ahead to where he can already see the house of his friend. It pained Ivy to see it, their pristine house with a tall gate and two shining cars on the drive. When Jake came home, he wouldn't have to bath in lukewarm water or eat averagely cooked food from his sister who had to replace the parents that seemed to work through the day and night. He would have it all. And Ivy could feel another part of her becoming lost into the abyss of never being good enough.

"Oh hello Ivy!" Jake's mother beams from the door, her son already chasing Leo round the front yard.

"Hey, Mrs Smith," Ivy responds politely, "Thank you so much for having him today,"

"No of course, we love having Leo round," She grins, a smile that Ivy couldn't find it in her to dislike.

"I don't know who will be picking him up but-"

"Don't worry about it, he can stay as long as he needs. Whatever works for you and your parents," Mrs Smith smiles with a sickening reassurance. They all knew Leo wasn't as privileged as the other children, that perhaps the Falter family had to work more than the average. But the exaggerated sympathy always made her blood boil. It was unnecessary and always hid how they really felt.

"Thanks," Ivy nods, hugging Leo goodbye quickly before making the quickest exit her feet could manage.

She knew she was already late to work and part of her couldn't find the point to care. The turning roads in front of her and the tired bags carrying underneath her pale eyes made all of it just another internal struggle. To muster a smile for a paying customer and accept tips with a grateful response.

Her thoughts were cut short.

"Falter!" The familiar voice rang out across the street, "Skipping work today?"

Dylan jogged across to meet her, his steps falling into a comforting rhythm beside hers.

"Just running a bit late," Ivy nods in response.

"Right, you look like you're in a real hurry," He chuckles, mocking her with jovial intent.

The brunette teen rolls her eyes, "Shut it Peters,"

They relax into a silence momentarily. He breaks it once again.

"So, how are things?" He smiles before pausing instantly, "Nope I didn't ask that, forget I asked that,"

Ivy smiles, eyes focused on the floor. Dylan had found her skipping school a while ago and had stuck around ever since. Skipping was realistically a broad term, she had taken an extra shift at work. Now it was summer and he had happened to bump into her even when she thought she was free from the horrendous leash of school-aged idiots.

"You don't need to act like you're worried Dylan," Ivy shakes her head, arms falling into a guarded crossed formation in front of her chest.

"No...no," Dylan stops, jumping in front of her to block her from her next step, "I just want to know why. You can tell me you know? You can trust me," His tanned hand rests upon the fabric of her arm and there's nothing but honesty surrounding the dark pools of his blue eyes.

Ivy stops, she wished she could confide in him. That perhaps part of her could be that girl that could truly say how she felt. But the other half of her told her she was already past that stage.

"Not now," The words sliced out of her mouth and fell like daggers into the boy in front of her.

"Alright," He backs away with raised hands like he had to surrender to her icy exterior, "But you know where I am." He states simply, eyes longingly holding onto her own for one last second until he was gone; away with the solemn wind.

She was silently screaming for it to bring him back. Maybe that her hand could lace with his and for that moment she could tell him everything. The real truth. The burning, twisted, devastating hell inside of her that only Ivy Falter knew about.

Work was mundane. A task that had to be done and perhaps provided a distraction for a sufficient amount of ticking hours.

"What will it be today?" Ivy forged a polite tone through her chapping lips, directed at the overly smartly dressed woman standing in front of her.

"Soy latte, one shot of caramel," The woman states simply, glancing up and down at the seventeen year old serving her, "And perhaps a smile with the service,"

"I would if I had a reason," Ivy muttered under her breath, hoping that perhaps it would spark some anger inside of her. Nothing.

"Forget the drink," The woman scoffs, heels clicking on tiled floor as she strutted out of the building just as she had entered.

"Seriously Ivy? What was it this time?" Ivy's boss, Neil, raises his brows, a red fluster sparking in his cheeks as he busied himself with yet another order.

Ivy doesn't respond at first. She starts to question what other people see. In her fatigued blue eyes, in her sun-kissed skin and in her messy brown hair. Are they seeing her as the bitch that stereotypes any rich person they see? Or perhaps as the barista nobody wants to be served by?

"Forget it, just take this order," Neil gestures in the direction of the till before he is off to hand over drinks to waiting customers.

"What will it be today?" Ivy recites, fingers hanging over the keys of the register in front of her.

"Ooh... what would you recommend Miss Falter?" A harshly familiar voice sounds into Ivy's ears. The sound of Lily Cook's words rung sharply in the café, sickening her stomach.

"What do you want Lily?" Ivy sliced the words through a clenched jaw.

She hated her. A bully was the only way to describe Lily. A twisted, evil bitch of a bully. She somehow managed to make every day a living hell for Ivy and the worst thing was, she knew a secret Ivy wanted nobody to know. Not yet.

Lily chuckled to herself cold-heartedly, "I saw you with your little brother earlier. Admiring the houses were we?"

Lily knew she was pretty. She was of a mixture of Asian descent with perfect skin, piercing eyes and long hair that never appeared out of place. There was no denying that she was utterly beautiful.

Ivy couldn't help the forced anger that boiled inside her from that Lily's last comment. Not one part of her could deal with this for a second longer than necessary. The next words... Well, she might just regret them.

"Go fuck yourself!" Ivy stated with no emotion, none was left.

No, she didn't regret it. It felt like some tiny relief on the clenching hold she had on herself.

"Ivy, take your break. Now," Neil says, remaining calm to avoid losing another customer.

As Ivy threw her apron to the side and began to walk away from that place, she could already hear her boss trying to excuse her actions. They didn't require an excuse. They were necessary.

Fresh air became burning to her fiery skin. It clung to her lips, unable to truly reach her throat. Why should she feel like this? Shouldn't she feel empowered, strong, victorious? No. Instead, panic crawled into her chest. It twisted it's sickening claws into her lungs and deprived them of life. Her heart tried to keep up, fluttering painfully into a fearful beat in her body. She was sinking.

"Hey, hey, look at me,"  There were Dylan's eyes again, "Inhale, exhale alright?" She could tell he was nodding but his face was blurring.

She was slumping into him subconsciously. There was skin on the top of her hand and fabric on her palm. She could feel his beating heart in a relaxing rhythm. Hers began to match his.

"You're alright," He sighs in a breath he had been holding and holds her head to his chest as though he was telling himself rather than her.

Words still defied her human power. They hung silently in the air between herself and Dylan. So they walked. Silently and as though nothing had ever happened. She knew not of the destination but an air of comfort surrounded her.

"So you wanna talk about it?" His voice rang in her ears that had started to pound with rushing blood much less than they had before.

"What so you can tell the full story about you being a knight in shining armour?" She scoffs, eyes finding any way to avoid his own.

He chuckles, head hung low as his elbows rested on his knees in a relaxed posture. Ivy sat with crossed arms and her back sternly stiff.

"No, more like for all of the reporters waiting to talk to me," He rolls his eyes, hand resting on top of her knee, "Come on, I'm serious,"

She shifts herself away, "What do you want to know? I get panic attacks sometimes,"

"It's happened before, right? "

"Unfortunately."

"And your parents don't know?"

She shakes her head, "It's none of your business,"

"Okay. Well, I know more than you think, which I think you know, really," He pauses, his relaxed tone instantly switching to one of pure severity, "And I know you're hurting."

Ivy stops. This didn't feel normal. He may have known much more about her, but she didn't know anything about him. He didn't go to her school, though he was the same age as her. She knew nothing of his family, where he lived or even if he lived in this town.

It was only then that she broke back into reality, to see those oddly known eyes looking into hers once more, the freckles dotting his cheeks and the warmly sympathetic smile that crossed his lips.

"Who even are you?" The words fell from her mouth instinctively. She didn't want to ask. Part of her wanted to keep things the way they were, her unknown saviour.

He smirks and looks away, "I figured we'd get to this eventually," He nods, rubbing the palms of his hands together as a simple of his nervous nature, "I'm Dylan Peters," He states, being irritatingly vague.

He refused to tell more about his true self.

"What about your family?"

"I don't really have one, not anymore," He states, eyes finally meeting hers once more, "But I'm still close with my brother,"

"So where do you live now?" She questions, wanting to learn more about this boy.

He pauses for longer than she expected, "Let's get you home, just let the guy at the café know you weren't feeling well," He stands quickly and extends a hand towards her.

She stops, glancing between his hand and his eyes that were trying to avoid hers once more, "Wait I-"

"Not now Ivy, you don't want to know," He shakes his head, "Please?"

"Sure." She nods, worry now circling in her mind. What wasn't he telling her?

Their walk back to her home was silent, Dylan fell into a step alongside her and the streets were empty of any passengers.

She knew the house would be empty too. She hated those times. For when she was alone, she had time to think properly. At least when there were people around, the noise of her family could drown out the screaming thoughts in her mind.

"This is me," She gestures towards the quaint house now towered in front of them, despite his clear knowledge of this being her house.

Dylan nods, walking to the edge of the path that led to the door, "I'll see you later?"

"It seems that way," Ivy smiles lightly.

Dylan chuckles and goes to turn away. She catches his arm, she doesn't miss the feeling of the faint bumpy lines under her hold.

"Thank you."

He shakes his head, "You don't need to thank me,"

She watches as he walks away, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. It takes conscious thought to pull her gaze away from him. Something was different about him. Why did he feel so familiar?

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland @fanficparker

(Please let me know all of your thoughts!!!)

[galaxyhopscotch]

Practical Tips for Studying Abroad

There are lots of google-able lists of best things to do to study abroad, so I won’t cover everything. But I do have a few practical tips for college students interested in studying abroad.

I studied abroad a few years ago in Costa Rica, and these things all helped me:

Side note: I use college and university pretty interchangeably, because that’s what we do where I’m from.

1. Study Abroad Office

Even if it’s on the opposite side of campus, get your ass over there. They will have a zillion resources for you-- pamphlets, flyers, program booklets, and trained staff who are familiar with most of the big name programs and study abroad companies.

Speak with a staff member at the Study Abroad Office. You are not bothering them. They are paid to help you. Their job description includes helping students figure shit out. Their purpose is to help you out. 99% of the time they are very nice and friendly. You may have to make an appointment, because certain times of year they are helping a lot of students at once. That doesn’t mean you are less important-- you just might need to set up a specific time where they can help you one-on-one.

Go to a Study Abroad Fair. They will have students from your college/university who studied abroad as well as several companies who try to sell you on going with their program. Take their pamphlets and booklets. If you are really interested, give them your school email. Listen to the students who have been to your ideal location. Ask them questions. Get excited!

In each program booklet, there is usually a guide to what major is suited to each of the study abroad locations/programs. For example, my major was biology, so I wanted to pick a study abroad program where I could take biology classes. I ended up going to Costa Rica with a company called USAC, because they offered (a) tropical biology electives (b) the credits transferred to my school (c) i could also take cultural classes while I was there. You’ll want to find a program that works for your major and your specific needs.

2. Planning

Start looking into your study abroad options approximately two semesters before you plan to go. Deadlines creep up fast, and usually there is a LOT of paperwork that needs to get filed before you can go. You’ll need a passport, travel insurance, and a ton of paperwork needs to be signed by both you and your school and your study abroad program. You need to be organized about it, and give yourself plenty of time to deal with people who lose your paperwork and for walking all over campus to get signatures (it happens). You don’t want to be caught 3 hours before the deadline only to be told someone is out of the office for the day and can’t sign your paperwork.

Talk with your academic advisor for your major. Tell them you want to study abroad. Figure out how this will affect your class schedule and your academic plan. Are you determined to graduate in 4 years? Find a study abroad program that includes interesting classes from your major. Do you want to graduate in 5 years? You may have a little more wiggle room.

MAKE SURE YOUR CREDITS CAN TRANSFER! I cannot stress this enough. Please, please, please double and triple check this. Run it by the study abroad office AND your academic advisor.

Troubleshooting: Your advisor doesn’t know shit. Ah yes, the bane of every student’s existence: the academic advisor who doesn’t know what they are doing. I had one of these. I checked in with him once a semester about my plan, but he always told me the wrong information and if I had been depending only on him, I would have been severely fucked. 

So. I ended up secretly seeing a different professor for advice about my academic plan. I also used my school’s website extensively to figure out what requirements I still needed to fill.

Finding a better advisor can rub people the wrong way, so I would develop a rapport with one of the long time academics who have been teaching at your school for a millennia. Then broach the topic about classes. A lot of the older professors are well aware that some people in the department aren’t good advisors-- they’ve heard about it before.

That said, never badmouth a professor in front of another professor. It’s very unprofessional and makes you look bad. But I might say something like, “Dr. [x] told me that I didn’t need to take another physics class, but I was so sure that I did. Do you know if they changed the requirements recently?”

You may be able to request a new advisor. Only do this if you are 110% certain that you will never need to take a class with that professor ever again. Otherwise you might get yourself into more trouble.

You can also ask for advice in the office dedicated to your major. (Usually each major will have an office dedicated to it on campus.) Usually there is someone there that can help you!

3. Picking a program

Things to consider when picking a program: what your major is, what language you want to learn / what cultures you are interested in, cost, and safety.

Types of programs and cost:

Direct Exchange: means you will pay the same price as your regular tuition. Usually these programs have an agreement between the university abroad and your home university. A very good option if you want to keep your spending somewhat the same.

Through a program provider: you will coordinate between your home school and a program provider (who will organize mostly everything for you). Costs vary. Some are more expensive than your home university and some are less expensive.

Summer programs: what it says on the tin. Usually shorter than spring/fall programs, and have a more intensive work load, and costs marginally less. A good option if you have a busy schedule and don’t want to be gone for a full semester during the year.

Language and Culture

One of the best things about studying abroad is learning about a different language and culture. I would highly recommend going to a country where they speak a different language than you do. 

It would be extremely helpful if you knew a little bit of the language before you left! A good place to start preparing is Duolingo, Memrise, and any variety of podcasts that are out there for you to download for free. Also check your campus for language exchange programs, where you can set up a time to meet with classmates from different countries. You can practice each other’s target languages together!

Remember that you are an ambassador of sorts for your home country. For the love of God, don’t be obnoxious and self-entitled. You need to put your best foot forward and present a good name for your home country. Don’t prove bad stereotypes right.

Living with a host family

THE BEST PART OF STUDY ABROAD, IMO. You will adjust to the culture much better if you live with a host family. You will also learn so so so much more, practice your target language every day, improve your listening skills astronomically, and be able to make strong cross-cultural connections. You may even become close enough that you get to visit them again in the future!

Go with the flow and accept differences. Don’t view the differences as better or worse than your home country-- it is merely a different way of doing things. Adjust your behavior to what is done in your new country. For example, if everyone takes off their shoes before entering a home-- make sure you do that too! If someone tells you that you will get sick if you are barefoot on cold tile floors-- put on sandals!

Try every food they put in front of you. In a lot of cultures, it is offensive to refuse the offer of food. Accept food when it is offered with a smile. Does the food smell strange or disgust you? Keep an open mind and try it. You might even like it!

Culture shock and reverse culture shock

I didn’t experience culture shock when I arrived in Costa Rica, but I remember being blindsided by reverse culture shock when I got home. My best tip is to make strong friendships with your classmates and host families. They help you through the adjustment period immensely. And when you get home? Keep in touch with the friends you made abroad. Tell them how hard it is to adjust back to your home country. And know it gets better.

4. Safety

Are you visibly LGBTQ+?

Look extensively into the country’s recent LGBTQ+ debates. Make sure that you will be safe there.

Do you belong to a racial, ethnic, or religious minority?

Look into the country’s history with people from your background. Look into the recent political movements. Look into the recent social issues being debated in that country. Is there a rise in islamophobic, antisemitic, anti-black, anti-latino, anti-[x] sentiment in that country? Are they dealing with anti-immigrant sentiment focused on people that look like you?

Political turmoil

There are a lot of countries across the world that are in political turmoil right now. Please look extensively into the current political debates and issues.

Sign up for alerts about areas to avoid.

This is the link to the US Consulate, which gives you current information for people traveling abroad:

https://travel.state.gov/content/travel/en/traveladvisories/traveladvisories.html

Remember that studying abroad should be a joyous, exciting experience. Don’t go anywhere that your life could be in danger.

That’s all for now, but as I think of things I might try to make a second post.

Keep in mind that this is all coming from someone who lives in the USA. Things may be different depending on where you live and where you are planning on going!

tl;dr: You need to do a lot of research and planning before you go, but in the end it will be so worth it! Get excited! Have fun!

[sadisim]

Lee’s Writing Tips #1

Hi! To those of you who don’t know my blog or simply don’t know me, i’m Lee, your friendly writer next door with a constant creeping terror of not getting her writings perfect every time.

Today i bring you some of the writing tips i’ve picked up writing from my experience.

English is not my native language, but i have been introduced to it when i was 3 by a relative who gradually taught me English alongside my native language, therefore i do make mistakes and sometimes i happen to fall in the traps of multiple language errors so please be patient with me. I started my writing journey when i was 10, being attracted by short flash fiction English texts in class which lead to me writing a lotta stuff, and here i am 18 and still not entirely proud of my writing skill.Also feel free to suggest me more things and let me know what you think!

BUT HEY we all learn so today i’ll give you some of my tips into:

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT 101

I will add some of my favorite links at the end of this post so you can check them out but my best advice, and the first one, is to simply pile up on resources on your own. Don’t just expect information to come at you. You have this huge platform called Google which will introduce you to the magical world of research.

*They=official pronoun accepted when we’re talking about no specific gender of a being,as in he/her or anything in between

Before beginning these steps I will assume you have already picked the most basic things about your character such as : gender, race etc.

First things first: Let’s pretend your character has been just created into a very empty world, like you’re playing some kind of creator game and you shape your own beings after yourself. Make sure that you first pick a purpose for your character. What should they be like? Are they a bright, cheerful person with a bubbly personality and joyous laughter who always know how to make people smile? Or are they rather a social introvert, with a mysterious aura engulfed within a severe persona? It is all up to you what you choose. Just think up of a few basic personality types and pick one for your character. Let us pretend this drawing is your current character:

So they are a very basic shape, no colors, no personality, nothing that will identify them. Well it’s all up to you after you have picked your personality to fiill it in. This will consist of 100% of their base. Let us pretend mine will be a Friendly character. I will fill them in with pink:

-Secondly, after you picked out the full coverage of your char you will have to create a mindmap or whatever lets you keep track of things, of their main traits. This means you will have to do some research on what traits belong to which personality. I will leave that up to you.I have picked out a few for my character: Peaceful, Friendly, Calm, Helpful, Joyous, Childish. Keep in mind that these will mean probably the next 70% of their personality, although you do not have to restrict yourself to one type only. Not all personalities are the same and one person can be both extremely shy but also outgoing among friends. They can be super friendly but also very grumpy under certain circumstances and so on. You have to be creative, and this is the keyword here. Do not stick with one persona only.Make sure you give your character BOTH good AND bad traits. They have to balance themselves. Think of as many as possible. For example my character will be clumsy, shy, supportive and understanding. 

I gave a bit more colour to my human, according to what i thought would match their shaping personality.

-After figuring out all of these things i suggest making a list of all the personality tests and things that can help you study more about your character. MBTI test, Zodiacs in multiple cultures, enneagram types, mental illnesses,disorders, the temper, their harry potter house if you want too, generally whatever test will determine their personality. Once you do as many of these in their boots, gather the results and google them all: research is extremely important again, this will help you define what your character’s personality truly is, and you will be able to nitpick from these results whatever you like/dislike and shape your character. These  will help you find results on who they are and then yo're able to read more stereotypes/characterisations of that personality.

I’m gonna pick some random results as an example for you: My character is a gemini and a rising scorpio with an INTP mbti, phlegmatic temper, enneagram type 3.

-After reaching this point it should be really easy to have a main idea of the personality. What i would do after is start shaping them with different hobbies, passions, activities that tell you what they like or dislike doing. Develop minor things like the way they talk,act,react, write, how they walk or what facial expressions they give in : all of these sound easy to do but if you do your research properly you'll be able to develop a very well shaped character. A lot of the things listed tell a bunch about a person. If you dont believe me just do your research. You will know what i’m talking about after that. 

-Go in depth: get a character sheet and gather as many questions as you can. Answer them all, find all the small and big things about them: why they don’t like coffee, what planet they are from, when do they go to bed, what do they have in their pockets, do they love their mom? These will add all the fine details you need to outline minor things about your character. 

-Background: backstory, relationships,family, interaction with other beings and their surroundings: CRUCIAL elements which define who your character is. Remember when a baby is born it will grow up and be educated according to the place it grows in. All of the items listed above influence their behaviour, temper, reactions, personality etc. A very well defined background will tell other people who your character is, without having to know them well.

-Their name. To you a name may not mean too much, but i am DESPERATE about names. Names to me are everything about a character. Keywords, acronyms, puns and wordplay will always be present in my characters’ lives, and why not pick it up yourself as well? Search for names, save them in a list, take time to pick a name for your characters as if they were your children.

-MOST IMPORTANTLY: DO YOUR RESEARCH. I cannot stress this enough. People simply do not research. They think that cresting a character is fun and then abandon them after a week and complain they are boring. That’s because you don’t put effort into them. Look at yourself first: how old are you? How many years did it take you to get where you are now? If you look back one year ago will you realize you’ve changed? If so then think about how your character has shaped with time. If you give them a certain age to start off with, who were they until that point in time?were they different from who they are now? Do not simply create a character just to slap them into a world and leave them die. No human being stagnates in the same state for their whole life,without changing at least one thing about themselves. So do not expect your character to transform radically every day. It takes time, just like it would take you to do it.

-Research their race/nationality. If it hasn’t hit you until now, every country in this world has different people and mostly they have “stereotypical” things about these nations. We’re not talking about stupid things like germans drink beer and americans don’t like sport, no. Those are simply stupid things made up by people. I’m talking about their cultural traits. It really gets on my nerves when people slap on a nationality on a character without doing the littlest bit of research beforehand. Look up into the culture of that nationality: what are they like? what is their religion/belief? How do they interact with others? Minor things like these are often seen unimportant but trust me they matter.

-Make your character interesting and relatable. If the reader does not engage or emphasize with the character in any way it will simply make them not find that character interesting enough to be cared about. What makes them special?What makes them relevant? What do they have in common with other people or characters?What are their morals,beliefs? What makes them good/bad?

-My BEST BEST BEST tip is to STUDY!!STUDY!!STUDY!! If you don’t do your research before creating a character then it’s pointless. You cannot simply KNOW stuff without STUDYING it at least somehow. Be it as simple as how being a vegan would influence your character’s lifestyle to how their actions could turn the entire world upside down. It doesn’t matter. If you’re unsure on a matter, and even if you know it decently well, make sure you do your research properly before assigning them a trait,a lifestyle, a belief or anything else.

-Don\t play God. Don’t make your character unkillable, without weaknesses or weak points or flaws or simply overpowered. Doesn’t matter if they’re superhuman or not. If your character lacks flaws then it’s simply a pointless superhero prototype. There’s no reason to have your character be the god in their universe and make everything really boring. Think very well about what makes them weak, what are their low points?

-Keep references close, save up all the stuff you can, bookmark websites and resources, make your own masterposts. Get an inspo blog and look up everything you need when you lack the motivation to shape your character. If you leave them like that,without drawing inspiration from the real world you won’t get far with them. You will lose motivation and won’t be able to develop them anymore.

Some REALLY helpful websites, but again,personal preference and it’s up to you to gather more ;)

Psychology

What should your character do?

Character types that should be more often used

How to build your character

Building your character’s personality

Flaws

About realistic characters

Avoid stereotypes

Thesaurus | Dictionary 

[mostlyvoidpartiallysmog]

Just finished the second Night Vale novel It Devours! that I got my hands on when I got a hold of my pre-order yesterday. (So sue me. College strike up here gave me some free time)

So some thoughts?

BIIIIG SPOILERS obviously.

Firstly I’d just like to say that I LOVE the ending. Specifically I love the way the relationship between Nilanjana and Darryl ends. GOD that was so refreshing! Honestly their relationship felt rushed and empty anyway and it was SO fucking nice to see a realistic potential end to a new adult relationship.

In regards to the early parts of the relationship? The writing seemed to have a preoccupation with kisses and lips that squicked me more then anything, but I’ve never been a big kissing person in general so maybe it’s just that.

The sex mentioned, especially with how explicitly they did so, kind of felt... I’m just going to say it, a little annoying? *sigh* Now I get that there aren’t too many places where even this minor level of detail and frankness about sex could come up, but seeing what felt like the first slightly more explicit handling of it then like, Carlos jokingly getting turned on by science or some such as the podcast has done (Not counting the semi-obscure and one time live show they recently did of course. Night Vale after dark I THINK it might have been called? With Cecil and Dylan reading some nsfw content?) what felt like the first more explicit handling went to... well a hetero sex scene and, eh, call me a bitter queer but like, ANY thing else would have felt more interesting. Idk, I was just rather meh about the whole thing.

Oh and well I’m at it, “Sex in Night Vale take’s a little longer, but when it starts it happens much like anywhere else.” also felt kind off to me. Just picky queer sex positive feminist things I guess. It ain’t a big thing, but if anyone else had written it I’d be rolling my eyes going “yo there’s more then one way to fuck my hetero dude friend. It’s not all about cis ass, able bodied penis in vaginal sex.) but again, that’s just me being picky as SHIT because I, to be frank, expect a heckuva lot from Night Vale what with them consistently delivering for 3 year (Specifically how long I’ve been listening I mean. Don’t recall how many year’s they’ve been around in general.)

Also like, the lead up TO the sex was weird? We had a window into both their heads but at no point were we lead to believe they were physically particularly attracted to each other before the sex? It jumped from “maybe he’s kind of cute” to fucking? Like give us a few bits of her (preferably her because fuck yes not shying away from female sexuality) eyes getting caught on his body or some overt desire or something. Direct us to something that says “physical” attraction. (and let’s REALLY not have it be a possessive stereotype about her getting jealous over some female friend of his and taking it out by getting touchy feely with a guy she barely knows for that matter) It just felt really flat. Really lacking it what should have been easy build up. Minor build up, because sex can absolutely and should absolutely be shown sometimes as something human, and pleasant, and potentially just chill and fun to do, but like, we have an internal view of their heads, as such we should have seen SOME small nudge of physical attraction before hand. Some tug. Don’t give the audience nothing and then expect them to buy a relationship that, as it turns out in the end, was largely just based on good/fun sex.

Um, also; IF anyone else had written that whole “let’s cosign forms and get blood work done, lol look how long this is taking” pre-sex bit, then I honestly would have taken it as a “consent is a mood breaker and millennials are prudish idiots ruining sex with their safe sex and their checks for consent.” Idk. That joke felt a little off the mark. Just me being picky again.

Another thing? Nilanjana is fat! Yaaay! That was unexpectedly cool! (Would have preferred if they had said “fat” versus “overweight”. Fat’s not a dirty word, being fat isn’t a reflection on your morals and all that, but hey, not everyone is up with the latest fat acceptance stuff I guess. But like, “over” weight. Over whose weight? Over what supposed perfect weight? Is that supposed to be your short hand for “doesn’t exercise” ‘cause those sure as hell aren’t inherently connected. Correlation doesn’t equal causation. Pbthhh. >.>)

Speaking of being picky, or maybe this was just a very clever sign that Darryl and Nilanjana’s relationship wouldn’t work out in the long term, did Nilanjana REALLY have to get so jealous and competitive with Stephanie? Did she have to instantly dislike and distrust her because of “the way Darryl looked at her”? Because to recap that made all the women in the book in relation to Nilanjana, judgemental, shallow, and foolish (Lusia), cold, untrustworthy, and naive (Stephanie. “Naive” because of her religion in Nilanjana’s books and soooort of by the narrative as well), literally just a world threatening zealous cultist (Munn), or a goofy, initially untrustworthy sidekick (Jamillah).

I mean even Josh Crayton got better billing in this round then either his mum or Jackie who got tiny cameo’s each. =/ I would have liked to see more of those two.

While we’re on the subject of female characters. NIGHT VALE PLEASE. PLEASE give us some more background or remotely confirmed wlw!!! Jeeze. Seriously! We got another random background guy, or at least person getting refereed to with he/him pronouns who got a boyfriend, (The helicopter fellow) and though we already knew Josh was bi/pan otherwise not straight, he got a briefly mentioned boyfriend in this one! And of course the show focus is always Cecil and Carlos which racks the points waaay up for amazing, awesome mlm representation. We DID get a tiny cameo from Basimah Bashara which was neat, and a small moment with Michael Nguyen, but that’s the thing with those two and wlw in Night Vale in general isn’t it? While one can... hope? Somewhat with evidence? That Maureen and Michael might be a couple now, might be positive wlw representation, that was never actually made super clear. (Looking back on it it WAS made super clear with Basimah, so good on them with that!)

There’s also Jackie and Sheriff Sam. I HAVE to say, I was absolutely PREYING Jackie and Dana got together when Jackie mentioned she was dating someone from “high up in the government” so the let down I felt from finding out it was Sam instead came mostly from that. =p (Give Dana a girlfrieeend. Sure there’s always Alice Isn’t Dead but that ain’t the same. =p) Sam uses they/them pronouns and we can probably safely assume from that that they’re meant to be NB, genderqueer, genderfuild, or otherwise just not a cis character, so that’s wonderful, and Jackie dating them pretty much pings her as some variety of queer (or at least queer friendly, but then the majority of Night Vale is.) as well, so that’s also neat! I dooon’t think we had that from her before? Maybe there was something in the first book I’m forgetting. (I am personally mad happy that Jackie is queer or at least chill with nb folk, as she reminds me of myself in way too many ways. Awkward high-fives and “dude’s” and all.) That being said, how old is Sheriff Sam? I always pictured them at like 40 something from the voice. >.> Lol apparently not.

So on a more world building, less representation based note; Kevin.

Kevin is a prophet in the churches lore apparently. That’s neat? I guess? Here’s the thing, when WAS the Joyous Congregation founded? And my main concern; when did Kevin go through the Old Oak Door that showed him the smiling god for the first time??? The Congregation, or at least the general concept of the religion of the smiling god seems fully formed back during the Strex arc, and more then that Kevin hasn’t (as far as we know. Also please Finknor give us more Kevin. Triptych Broke. My. Heart. and I’m begging you.) been back to Night Vale or otherwise out of the desert other world since the time Steve pushed him in at the end of the Strex arc.

I don’t WANT to think that Kevin founded the whole religion. It’s always seemed very much like a thing that existed before him and more importantly not a thing he did before Strex!him if you will, but who knows I guess. =/

That’s the thing. I always thought of the smiling god AS ENTIRELY a Strex concept, and I’m going to wager a guess that at least at the start Finknor did too. It’s so tied into Strex. Inseparable from Strex’s meaning and purpose. Smile. Work. Be empty. Pretend to be happy. Smiling IS Strex, it’s a Strex thing, so it kind of made me feel... like it felt a bit rewrite-y to not even mention Strex at all during this book?

I mean was the smiling god NOT behind Strex? Was the congregation not at least back a couple years ago indistinguishable from Strex? Idk. These are all questions I have.

Talking about things that feel rewrite-y, I’m not sure I did the idea of Carlos actually being in the desert other world for TEN YEARS. Here’s the thing. We were, at the very least, as the audience lead to believe that Cecil and Carlos were thinking of LIVING there. Of moving there. a MASSIVE freaking part of the Carlos in the desert other world arc had us second guessing Carlos and Cecil’s whole relationship ffs! That WAS the subtext of the arc! The purpose! That Carlos seemed more interested in science and research of the desert other world then getting back to freaking Cecil! And now you’re going to claim that not only was he there ten years, which we had NO foreshadowing of during the arc at ALL as far as I can see, but he only ever wanted desperately to get home? Again the twist at the end of the desert other world arc is Cecil unexpectedly NOT MOVING THERE. WHAT? Nah man. That was some silly re-write stuff right there. Contradicting what world building we have on the desert other world until now.

Another thing highly related to that? Where the fuck was the nomadic giant army?? Or hell, even just Kevin and that dumb roller coaster they built? (I GUESS you could say that they all... died... ? And the roller coaster... vanished completely? But nah. Not really because aging doesn’t work there now does it?) Doug and Elisha thanks? Yet more stuff that made Carlos seem at home (and for that matter time passing relatively similarly from the sort of relationships he formed and reported on) in the desert other world. Ugh. I really don’t like that whole ten years thing. It seemed excessive too. Like two or even three years would have been more believable from what we saw of Carlos during that time, and even with only the single year I could already understand Carlos being traumatized from the event. Idk.

Speaking of world building for the desert other world? Assuming we keep with previous would building regarding it we are NOT done with it yet. Or rather, we probably shouldn’t be. There’s WAY too much going on there. Kevin’s still in there, he named it DESERT BLUFFS ffs. (I’m still waiting for the day we get the plot twist that the other world IS the desert bluffs we know from the past or something very similar to that. I also noticed a hella conspicuous absence of talk about desert bluffs OR the desert other world during the Huntokar revelations of the last finished arc. That place is MAD secret to the point that it’s not even on the radar of Huntokar, and probably The Glow Cloud, Distant Prince, Woman from Italy and other elder god type things.)

Then there’s Dana’s drawings up on the mountain. The spiraling murals of triangles I believe it was? We are NOT done with that place. I know at the end Darryl is like “well maybe the smiling god wasn’t that stupid centipede” and we’re supposed to at least sort of think like Nilanjana and be like “Yea huh. Sure. You just want to think that to protect your beliefs.” but honestly yeah, I don’t remotely think the centipede was really... the smiling god? Unless like I said, Kevin started the religion all together which I very much hope he didn’t? So yea, probably not the smiling god, DEFINITELY not the biggest threat in the desert other world. Up until now the “light” trying to get into Night Vale has been really obtuse and obscure. Really vague and therefore menacing and cool. I don’t think Finknor are bad enough writers to just toss all that away on a giant centipede. I’m a cynical person. Usually I’d add “At least I hope not” to that sentence, but damn it all if I don’t KNOW that Finknor are better writers then that.

Also there was the whole “hey wait the “ritual” to summon the god probably wasn’t just a coincidence” idea dropped in there to explore. So yeah. Lot’s to look at still.

Speaking of the ritual? Did you guys caaaaatch iiiiiit??? The jumping. How frantic jumping was a big part of the ritual? Maybe I’m just reaching but it sounded SO much like Kevin’s narration jumping bit from way back in The Sandstorm that Cecil mirrors with his own narration bit in his episode.

I’m SOOOO glad we got a glimpse into additional meaning for that kid jumping trying to recapture the feeling of flight scene for Kevin. It would be cool if more meaning was discovered for it in the future.

I’ve always read Cecil’s retrospective kid scene in those episodes as maybe relating too whatever happens in Cassette Tapes, or maaaybe some weird shit with Kevin himself in a metaphorical or otherwise obscured reference to why the heck the whole doubles thing happens anyway. (Also again, doubles, Desert bluff weirdness. Another thing I attributed to possibly the smiling god that could definitely not be if it were just a centipede, but honestly whether it’s a centipede or not I think it would be much more interesting if the smiling god was only a corrupting force for Desert bluffs and not the “weird Night Vale thing” that causes them to exist in the first place. And like I said? What’s cool is that it seems to not be Huntokar’s fault either that Desert Bluffs exists so that’s neat. That mean’s there’s some other weird shit going on there for us to find out.)

Ok one thing I forgot about the time rules of the desert other world and Kevin? You don’t AGE in the desert other world. Kevin when he contact Cecil in the last section of Triptych say’s he is very old. Now he could mean ancient as in “lived a very long time” but he specifically says “very old” and seems like his health might even me failing. Certainly he puts on a different voice. Anyway, all that leading up to the theory that we can extrapolate from that that Kevin will escape the desert other world at some point. Which isn’t too much of a stretch, and I think we all kind of expected (and I desperately hoped for after Triptych tyvm. FFS Cecil if you know how he ends up and also what he used to be like why not GO SAVE KEVIN FROM THAT FATE! Jeeze man! I really wish that had been part of the arc following Triptych and genuinely thought it might be. Like please. Cecil how can you just leave him there???)

All and all I liked the first novel a LOT more, but I liked this novel. Heck if it it wasn’t from Night Vale crew, meaning I had kind of hyped standards for it already, it probably would have been super awesome.

I mean there were some parts of the first novel I didn’t like, and I’m feeling some similar feelings regarding how the smiling god and desert other world turned out looking a bit mundane in this story and left a lot of “but if they were really just this, then why this old plot point” feelings just like the Man in the Tan Jacket did last novel (WHY was he interested in the underground city damn it? Especially with what we now know about Huntokar? WHY was he working with the Apache Tracker? What the hell were they doing? What was the post office all about?) but all and all I still preferred the first novel to this one. It felt more... human I guess. Had that good good recognizable story about a mom and her kid, growing up, parents, relationships, becoming an adult and a helluva lot of other stuff. Not that this one didn’t have a neat story about religion and science (that part honestly felt a little too basic for me) and fitting into one’s communities (that part was alright) but the first novel just hit the right cords more. Personally at least I felt more attached to everyone AND enjoyed the treatment of the themes more. Idk exacccctly why, but I absolutely enjoyed the first novel way more. It felt more like it’s own entity. A valid reason to use a different medium. A really new and cool thing where we could step into the shoes of likeable, fully rounded characters. This novel felt a lot more like a sometimes wacky one off live show with new characters or something. =/ I still enjoyed it, but not as much, and mostly the parts I did enjoy were all humor and surreal Night Vale goodness.

Alright. Well. That ends my rambling for now. I’m sure I’ll have many instances of trying to get to sleep and thoughts of the novel bouncing around in my head begging me to write them down or otherwise talk about them, so I guess I gotta emphasize the “for now” part.

This is long as shit and I’d be mildly surprised and utterly flattered if anyone can make it through my rambling.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Canadian Girl

Chapter Five

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC  |  Word Count: 2699 Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one)

Four weeks went by. In that time Kennedy finally cracked it, mostly thanks to Steven. His disappearance had driven her to focus harder on her work just to keep her mind occupied. It wanted to drift back to the kitchen. To the conversation they were having. To the kiss they had shared. She didn’t know what to think.

Did she like Steven? Certainly. Quite a lot actually. He was someone she could very easily tumble headlong into love with. He was sweet, seemed to have a decent sense of humour. He certainly wasn’t hard to look at. But, he always seemed to evade her questions. She knew only his first name, that he worked here, but not where or how, or in what capacity. And, holy crap, he was so far out of her league it was like a t-ballplayer versus a major leaguer.

It was frustrating, to say the least. All these unknowns made her anxious. Still, it had caused her to throw herself into her work and, low and behold, she’d done it. She’d figured it out. The serum was no longer a mystery.

At two in the morning on a snowy Sunday in November, Kennedy threw her arms up like she’d just made a touchdown, and gave a joyous shout. It called for a celebration.

She’d skipped down to the kitchen for her go to. It was a bit bittersweet after the last time she’d had poutine, but she wasn’t going to let her conflicting emotions over Steven taint her favourite thing besides Stampede and Don Cherry’s blazers.

Everything came together with speed and efficiency. She was just pulling the perfect golden fries out of the oven when a presence in the room made her stand up and turn quickly around. The redhead lounging there had a way about her that had Kennedy taking a tighter grip on the hot tray. “Can I help you?”

A smile flitted over the redhead’s face. “So, you’re the one.”

“The one what?” Kennedy muttered.

“Are you making that stuff Steve’s been raving about? The poo-teen,” she asked, eyeing the tray of fries.

She knew Steven? Relaxing slightly, Kennedy nodded. “It’s poutine, and yes. I’m celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?” she asked, taking a seat at the table.

Apparently, she wasn’t leaving.

Kennedy decided to just go with the flow. Here, however, was a woman that looked like she belonged with Steve. Sleek, svelte, and incredibly fit. Kennedy felt fat just being in the same room with her. “I did it. Finished my project.”

“Good for you, Doc!” the woman said, excitedly.

“Thanks!” Kennedy smiled as she dumped the fries in the bowl. “It was so simple. I can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier!” A scramble at the door had her turning to see a tall, broad, dark-haired man walk through and glare at the redhead.

“I can’t believe you. He’s going to kick your ass when he finds you down here,” he growled at the woman.

“You worry too much.” The redhead flicked her fingers in dismissal. “Besides, you’re here too.”

“Uh, hi?” Kennedy murmured, backing towards the fridge.

Reaching inside for the cheese curd, she had a strange feeling she shouldn’t turn her back on him. She’d thought Steven was a big guy, but this one seemed even larger, somehow more... lethal.

“How you doing, doll?” he grinned, giving her a nod before his eyes fell to the table. “Is that the stuff?”

“Yup! Kennedy’s going to share. Aren’t you, Kennedy?” the redhead cooed.

Kennedy looked between the two strangers at the table. “Sure?” What the hell was going on in her lab?

“She’s celebrating.” The redhead said. “She cracked the serum.”

“Really?” His dark blue eyes swung to her.

Kennedy froze. “Yes?”

“Are you asking or tellin’, doll face?” he chuckled.

Frowning, she dumped the cheese on top of the fries. “Keep it up, buddy. I don’t have to share.”

“Rude. Thought you Canadians were all polite and shit?” he smirked.

“Nah, man. Haven’t you seen them play hockey?” The black man chuckled, coming through the door, nodding Kennedy’s direction. “Them dudes are bat crap crazy. Don’t know why you Canuks even have an army. Just send a few of your goons over and be all, the bad guys have the puck!” he crowed in a falsetto voice.

Pointing a finger at the laughing man, Kennedy snapped, “Hey! Talk like that gets you banned from the poutine! Hockey is awesome, and my boys will whoop your ass any day of the week.”

“That’s some big talk for a girl,” he teased.

Stalking up to him, Kennedy got right in his face. Jamming a finger in his chest, she snarled, “Look, buddy, I don’t know who the heck you think you are, but strap on some skates, boy, and I’ll show you what this girl can do! I have three brothers, and hockey is right up there with Jesus for my dad. Don’t make me cross check your fudged up ass into no boards.”

He held up his hands, took a step back.

She nodded. “Hm, didn’t think so.”

“She really doesn’t swear,” the redhead snickered softly to the brunette.

“Except for ass, apparently,” he chuckled.

“Like I told Steven, ass is no different than crap. Neither is a swear. Shit pushes the line, but otherwise I save the big words for important or special occasions,” Kennedy grumbled, stirring the gravy a final time before turning back to the table.

“Steven?” The brunette pinched his lips together to keep from laughing. “I haven’t heard anyone call him that since his mom…” he cleared his throat. “Since before she passed on.”

Kennedy paused, she’d figured he’d lost his family. This was just confirmation. Turning towards the table with the hot pot, she dumped the gravy over the mess and went to chuck it in the sink. When she turned back, they were all staring at the bowl like it would bite them.

“Really?” She shook her head and plunked herself down at the table. “Forks are for wusses, just dig in.”

The first tentative mouthfuls went down, and she grinned like a maniac when all of them just attacked the bowl. It was quite funny to watch. Out of the three of them, the woman was most aggressive, having no qualms about snagging food from beneath the fingers of the other two. No matter how they protested.

She was just about to ask for names, because, clearly, none of them knew how to introduce themselves when all three froze like an alarm she couldn’t hear had gone off.

“What the hell are you doing down here?”

The coldness of that voice made her jolt. Coming to her feet, she gasped, “Steven?”

“Kennedy, I’m sorry about this,” he waved at the three at the table.

“Why? They’re okay.” A little intimidating at first but friendly enough. “That one tried to get all up in my stuff about hockey, but otherwise they’re fine.” She waved at the black man who looked sheepish when Steve glared at him.

“Still, they didn’t need to come down here and bug you while you’re working. Or steal what was likely your snack.”

“She offered to share,” the woman said with a grin, patting her belly.

“Yeah, lighten up there, pal,” drawled the brunette, grinning unrepentantly.

The black man stuffed another mouthful in, muttering, “No harm done, Cap.”

Kennedy froze.

Cap… Cap… Why was that familiar?

The lightbulb went off, and it was a floodlight so large it had her inhaling sharply.

“Cap, as in Captain? Captain Steve Rogers.” She looked up at Steven as the others froze.

From the corner of her eye, she caught the one who could only be Bucky Barnes, the metal of his vibranium arm covered and his hand gloved, smacking what had to be Sam Wilson in the back of the head. Natasha Romanoff was the woman, and, standing before her, bigger than life, was Captain America himself.

Steve freaking Rogers.

“Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “Wow, I am so, so dumb.” Backing away from the table Kennedy brought her hands to her face.

“Kennedy…” Steve said, reaching for her.

Jerking away, she held up her hand. “Wow!” She laughed at herself, the sound one of despair, ignoring how it hitched like a sob. “It’s been a really long time since anyone’s made me feel this, this… stupid. Well done, Captain.”

“Kennedy that was never my intention.” Steve stepped towards her again.

She stepped back. “Then what was? You knew I didn’t know who you were, yet you let me ramble on about what I think of the Avengers, Mr. Stark, the super soldier serum.” Snippets of their last conversation kept coming back, and she snapped her head up to glare at him. “Is this why you asked if I read the papers or had a TV? Were you hoping to keep me in the dark? Keep this charade of yours going?”

“Hey, now. That ain’t fair, doll,” Bucky said, coming to his feet with the rest of the team.

“You sit down,” Kennedy snapped, “Just because I haven’t nipped anything’s balls off in the last few years doesn’t mean I don’t remember how.”

“Kennedy! If you want to be mad, then be mad at me! They had nothing to do with it!”

“Oh, I’m mad, Steven! I’m fucking pissed!” Marching up to him, she slammed her palm against his chest and was annoyed when he didn’t even rock a little. “Was this all some game? Was it? See how long you could string Kennedy along before she figured it out?”

“No! Never!” He shook his head forcefully. “It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t treat me different because I was Cap. Spending time with you was fun. Have you tell me little side notes about your life because you were comfortable with me. I liked you. You were different and interesting. But you’re afraid of guns, were worried about meeting my friends, and I was afraid if you found out who I really was, you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

She stared at him for a full ten seconds before she exploded. “Jesus, Steven!”

Scrubbing her hands over her hair, she gritted her teeth together. Then, Kennedy did something foolish. She snatched the pistol off his hip.

“Kennedy? Put the gun down, doll,” Steve said cautiously, holding up his hand when the others tensed.

They all went on alert, and she huffed out an exasperated breath. “Oh, for fuck sake! I’m not going to shoot him. That really would be stupid.”

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy broke the pistol down in seconds, throwing all the parts on the countertop. They stared at her with their mouths open, but she only glared at Cap.

“I didn’t say I was afraid of them. I said I dislike guns, Steven, but that’s not because they make me uncomfortable. I come from a family that hunts. I can gut a deer or skin a rabbit with the best of them. I just prefer not to. And yeah, maybe I was worried about meeting your friends, but did you ever even once stop to think that it’s because I have issues with self-confidence? That it’s because I look at a woman like her,” she pointed at Natasha, “Who’s the embodiment of what every woman has always been told their entire lives is the epitome of female beauty, and feel inadequate about myself? That I look at you, Captain freaking America, and think there is no way, no way in hell I would ever be good enough for you. That she’s who someone like you belongs with? Did you even think at all, Steven?”

Throwing up her hands, Kennedy stalked towards the door, thoroughly exhausted and embarrassed. “You could have trusted me, Cap. You could have told me the truth four weeks ago and, yeah, I may have wigged out a little. I mean, who wouldn’t, right? The man I’ve come to know, like and respect has been keeping one hell of a secret. But I’d have come around because I thought you were sweet and so nice and funny. A good guy and for some crazy reason, you seemed to like me.” She held up her hands when he shifted toward her. “You kept coming back. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what you wanted. Why you just kept popping up. Couldn’t even fathom it until you kissed me that, oh my God, he might actually have those kinds of feelings for me.”

She’d been gesturing wildly with her hands and finally just sank them into her hair, giving it a sharp tug to help her release some frustration. Taking a shaky breath, she let them fall to her sides. “I’ve spent the last four weeks playing devil’s advocate with my own brain cause I thought, maybe, just maybe, I’d found a real special guy who could look at all my flaws, and like me anyway. I guess that genius IQ of mine means nothing after all. I really am… stupid.” Stupid… she’s been told that before….

“Kennedy, I don’t… that’s not true,” he said, pain coating his features.

“You played me, Captain Rogers. You’ve been playing me all along. Tell Stark I finished it. The serum’s been deciphered, and the formula’s on my hard drive. I’m going home.” Turning on her heel, she walked away before he broke her heart into even smaller pieces.

***

She had sounded utterly defeated.

It killed Steve to know he’d been the cause of that sound. Silence hung over the kitchen after she was gone before he sat down hard in a chair, dropping his head to his hands.

She was wrong, but not entirely wrong.

He hadn’t trusted her with who he really was. She’d been nothing but honest in their interactions. He was the one who’d lied. Even if it was by omission.

“Wow, she swore at you. That makes you special,” Natasha said. “And she called me beautiful. I like her. Go get her back.”

“Shut up, Natasha,” Steve sighed. “I’m so screwed.” His forehead thunked down on the table top.

“Yup,” Sam agreed, running his finger around the inside of the bowl of tasty fry goodness.

“Wilson, you’re partnered with Scott for eternity,” Steve said. “Just had to go and call me Cap.”

“What!? Ah, man. That’s like working with an overexcited puppy someone has fed caffeine,” Sam groaned.

Bucky dropped his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Go after her.”

“She hates me.”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Wow, some pep talk.”

During the last mission, Natasha had finally had enough of wondering why he was checking his phone and receiving updates none of the rest of them were getting. She’d wrangled Bucky into stealing it, playing a round of keep-away with it until she'd had a chance to read a few of the updates on Kennedy. It had been impossible to keep her a secret after that, and he had to admit, he'd gushed like a damn fool when he'd fessed up.

“Look, pal, you should have told her weeks ago. Definitely, before you kissed her, which, by the way, you failed to mention. She’s got every right to be mad and hurt because you didn’t. But you have every right to have her get to know you without preconceived notions. We don’t get a lot of anonymity anymore, so I get why you kept it a secret. Go and talk to her. Make her understand.”

“Buck,” Steve sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“I ain’t seen you as happy as you’ve been these last months every time you’ve come back from seeing Kennedy. You really like her, punk. So go tell her the truth.” Bucky squeezed his shoulder.

Steve looked up at the others, got nods of encouragement from all of them. “Alright. First thing tomorrow.”

Snickering softly, Nat poked him in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you let a civilian steal your gun.”

Sighing, Steve laid his head back on the table. “Shut up, Natasha.” He was never going to hear the end of that, he was certain.

Next Chapter

[mild-lunacy]

The 'Why Omegaverse' Question

I'm a very self-indulgent person, and so I like analyzing why I like the self-indulgent things I like to read almost as much as reading them. And well, currently I'm reading a Johnlock Omegaverse fic and it made me wonder why I almost always enjoy it so much.

Usually when the subject comes up, I've seen things like people enjoy the world-building, the gender dynamics exploration or the porn (usually that bit's implied). To be honest, I've never actually seen people talk about it much. Not that people in fandom are all that shy about our porn, but wank happens just with the top/bottom discussions, forget Alpha/Omega discourse (not that I've actually ever seen that). It doesn't completely translate. Like, I think people usually write Omega!John and bottom!John differently, although there's more overlap in Omega!Sherlock and bottomlock. The storyline about how both Omega John and Sherlock resist their secondary gender's stereotypes to be BAMFy fits both of them in different ways, just as the whole Alpha strut and self-confidence can be spun to fit them both. I think in my case, I find both options more pleasant in Omegaverse 'cause often there's more explicit characterization work to justify the differences in the fic's John or Sherlock. Like, I'm a very picky reader that's super sensitized to OOCness, and I think Omegaverse helps me 'cause the characterization divergence is there but is more consciously constructed as an AU. So I'm like, okay this is a bottomlock universe or a toplock universe, and I can go with it 'cause it's never presented as the 'natural order of things', so to speak. Of course, this is ironic 'cause the mainstream concept of the gender dynamic in-universe is usually all about the 'natural order of things' being Alpha/Omega pairings. It's just that you're still dealing with these implicit or symbolic issues (feminization, projection, etc) a lot in regular fics, but I feel like it's defanged if it's directly acknowledged by the narrative.

This might be why it's awkward to talk about enjoying Omegaverse porn, in a way. At least speaking for myself, there's an underlying sense of discomfort in 'un-queering' the pairing, even if you keep the characters' equipment. At least if you're not reading Alpha/Alpha or Omega/Omega fics (which are rare and I myself usually don't read). I think for me, there's an appeal in the absolute normalization of it, sort of the same way I enjoy 18-19th century novel Sherlock fusion fics with no homophobia. Like, you could say it's erasing the queerness of the characters by making them play essentially heteronormative roles in the society (especially when one of the characters was literally male and one female in the original novel). Or you could say it's simply that the fic's erasing the other people's problem, which is external to the actual relationship dynamics between the characters. In the case of Omegaverse, you're still usually problematizing the gendered aspects of the relationship (ie, it's not usually portrayed as absolute smooth sailing, ala a fluffy het romance), but you're not coming at it from the same angle so it's still refreshing. Is that what *I* like about it, though?

It's a bonus, certainly. In the end, I do like the thinky world-building and the gender exploration stuff, but it's not enough by itself. What makes Omegaverse a true guilty pleasure is usually the trope aspect: the chance to enjoy a classic iteration of the fuck-or-die trope combined with a soulmate trope. If you look at the usual fuck-or-die fics these days, they're not generally romantic. They tend to be more straightforwardly dealing with issues of consent and trauma if they're not pure rapefic PWP, whereas a lot of Omegaverse fic still allows you to have consent in-universe along with a focus on characterization and romance; PWPs are relatively rare. My point is, the trope's original conceit was that both people secretly want it, and may be wary but interested and compatible (and at least initially/partly capable of consent, though you could have angst about the subject in many fics). It's obviously problematic rather than romantic in a more realistic context, but this is why I enjoy the sci-fi premise of the Omegaverse. It's quite possible to create these results using a different sci-fi/fantasy scenario (certain magical artifacts, alien spores, sometimes Sentinel/Guide, etc), but Omegaverse provides a ready template, whereas everything else requires constructing a complex plot from scratch. Of course, this is partly why I enjoyed them back in the day, but most fics I've seen lately just go with drugs and/or a villain as the immediate cause. Both of these are traumatic, being sort of the antithesis of a happy ending scenario. So... me no likey.

With the seemingly romantic soulmate trope taken alone in fics, most of what I see is also less than romantic, with the usual point being to problematize the soulmate bond scenario somehow. Otherwise it's considered 'boring'. I just like my bond fics being about a happy, even joyous union, with the drama coming from the difficulty getting together or some other external source. Omegaverse fics generally use this type of approach. Call me old-fashioned. I know I am.

I think rather than the porn (which is really hit-or-miss in terms of how well even a good writer does with it), I'm into the soul-bonding and pheromonal attraction aspect of the trope. This might also be another reason why I don't really care much who's the Alpha or Omega: usually the desperation (another favorite trope!) goes both ways emotionally. The whole nature of the Omegaverse is about breaking down personal boundaries and forming a more perfect union, both physically and emotionally. I mean, usually this is a theme in most romantic pairings, but here it's being made both emotionally explicit and natural (in-universe), whereas I tend to view super-fluffy fics (especially involving long-term commitment themes) with suspicion. This probably has something to do with me being a 'cold-prickly type' reader. Normally, reading about marriage (essentially) would seem OOC or over-the-top to me somehow, whereas if you're soul-bonded as an Alpha/Omega couple, well, you can't really avoid it. There's usually no (easy) divorce and/or polyamory option, etc. You're just kinda stuck being in fluffy love forever, haha. I know a lot of people would find that stifling or even less romantic, but it suits me just fine. Though I could do without the babies, generally, in the end I even make the baby exception for Omega Sherlock (poor boy, haha). ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[nonoboymusic]

Mitski Part I: Early Musical Influences Yumi Matsutoya and Miyuki Nakajima

One of the contemporary artists I’ve been researching recently is Mitski, a 26 year old “indie rock” musician who has found some success with a pair of excellent recent albums (Bury Me at Makeout Creek & Puberty 2) which examine youth and all its messiness through memorable melodies, striking vocal performances, while utilizing late 90s alternative fuzz guitar centric rock. Mitski uses her lyrics to explore different facets of her identity (youth, race, gender, sexuality) with great nuance and depth. Deservedly so, her single “Best American Girl” made many 2016 best of lists. The song, besides being a great, dynamic musical piece of power pop, articulates ideas about growing up looking or feeling different on the edges of the Richie Cunningham nuclear family ideal. The video--which features a Coachella girl stereotype making out with Mitski’s “best american boy”--does the song no favors and flattens out the complexity which her lyrics and the music can convey upon careful examination. 

Mitski’s background is what it is. People make too much it from surface level observations that she is 1.) Japanese 2.) mixed 3.) a woman 4.) a rocker. From my research (both reading articles and interviews and speaking to her fans), I’ve found that other people are keen to identify her as “an other” and then use this outsider position as a journalistic angle, or, in the case of some of her fans, they want her to be a political spokeswoman for marginalized people, specifically Asian-Americans. Certainly, Mitski looks different (and writes differently) from what we have seen and heard before in indie rock, and she acknowledges that.  In a surprisingly long email correspondence, Mitski was nice enough to write an essay length response to questions which aimed to flesh out Mitski as Asian-American rockstar, or Asian-American woman taking center stage, and add layers, historical, social and political, to who Mitski the human musician is. 

As someone who is studying “Asian-American” musical cultures, it’s frustrating when journalists or fans latch onto people because they’re Japanese or Korean or Vietnamese or whatever, and make that dominate the narrative. It assumes things that may or may not be true for the artist in question, and it also flattens them out. If that’s the lead line and there is no examination of what it means to be Asian-American, then that cheap analysis is an exoticizing tool meant to capture a reader’s imagination. Unfortunately, this exoticization associates one-dimensional images of whatever Asian things mean to you onto that person and further perpetuate stereotypes. Few of these articles seem to care even where Mitski’s Japanese family is from in Japan (Mie prefecture), while in the same magazine or blog you will find stories about how (mostly white) musicians really lay claim to a certain sound of a certain region where they’re from or grew up or moved to or visited once.

Mitski, like myself, and other Asian-American musicians I’ve spoken with recently has a complex and complicated background, and it’s kind of a bummer to see the “Asian” thing (or the “woman in rock” thing) used in such a shallow way, to just set up an “outsider makes good” narrative. Those narratives are important for political reasons, because there is still real racism and sexism and not enough songs like “Best American Girl” out there. But the real story lies in calling into question the idea of the outsider based on racial lines by actually taking the time to tell that artist’s story which in turn breaks down the validity of any kind of superiority of an “insider” culture. That’s what I hope to do in sharing Mitski’s interview here. In bits and pieces, I want to go through some of what Mitski wrote to me. She offers a lot, so I’ll unroll this over time, but let’s start with the basic introductory music journalist question:

What music did your mom and dad listen to respectively? 

“My mother was never really a music-listener, but she would hum or sing to herself often, and I found out later in life that she was singing Japanese songs of her youth - Japanese Pop songs of the late 70's-early 80's. She mostly sung songs by female singer-songwriters Yumi Matsutoya and Miyuki Nakajima, who I actually find my own songs sound a lot like! So I think a lot of my songwriting is subconsciously but greatly influenced by those two artists. 

My father was something of an amateur ethnomusicologist. His specialties were the local/traditional music of Latin America (especially Cuba), Irish/Scottish/American Appalachian folk music, and Tibetan and Mongolian traditional music, including throat singing. This sounds really pretentious, but he just genuinely liked that music, so that's what was playing in our homes all the time, and that's what I'm familiar with.”

The artists Mitski name checks are fantastic and certainly deserve recognition. As noted, they were foundational “J Pop” artists of the 80s and made some phenomenal music.Here is a brief introduction to a few choice Yumi Matsutoya and Miyuki Nakajima tunes. 

"Rouge no Dengon" was released in 1975 on the Alfa label under Yumi Matsutoya’s former stage name Yumi Arai. She was born in 1954 in Tokyo. This song, which was a big hit for her, trades in vintage 1950s American rock n’ roll. The strings and background vocals which sweep in during the second verse are joyous and push the song towards its truly outstanding chorus section. Yumi’s voice is controlled and understated for most of the track, soaring only when necessary. For all the camp of the production of the video, and the obviously cribbed greatest hits of American 1950s tropes, it still manages to feel exciting and not played out. The song has a sense of movement, a buoyant propulsion which never bores the listener.

By the late 1980s, Yumi Matsutoya’s work adopted the au currant synthesizer instrumentation which resulted in her most commercially successful work. “September Blue” from the 1988′s incredibly titled Delight Slight Light KISS is a synth feast of orchestra hits and a clave pattern which sounds pretty fresh now that we’re in this mid 2010′s tropical house moment in pop music production. By the time the song reaches its repetition of outro choruses and the background vocals are swelling and the horn hits are coming in and out, I am genuinely excited by the sweet jam unfolding before my ears.

Miyuki Nakajima, born 1952 in Sapporo, is first and foremost and incredible songwriter. “Wakareuta (The Parting Song),” has such a brilliant melody and cool vibe. The string orchestration (chunky 8th notes mixed with legato patches) and minor key harmonies create a slinky cool feel which is just, like, super hip. I love the upstroke guitar work and the threatening dramatics of the song which hints at Rocky type theme music. J Pop, or whatever you want to call this late 70s era of production in Japan, was smashing together so many cool sounds, and because of writers like Nakajima and Matsutoya, they had some really great material to arrange and orchestrate. 

[flowercrown-jackson]

Klangst Week - Day 1

Unrequited Pining/Unrequited Love

Stars shined brightly in the night sky, aimlessly scattered throughout the whole galaxy, and considered one of the most common aesthetics in society. They accompanied the crescent shaped moon that radiated luminously among them. The night was warm and calm from the summer approaching, and Keith was stuck helping a slightly drunk Lance make his way to the car. Neither of them owned one, though Shiro was nice enough to let them borrow his. “No one is to drink, eat, or barf in it, though. I mean it.” Lance was quick to make sure that nothing of the sort would happen as long as he was there; clearly he hadn't counted that the Lance that was going to be intoxicated.

Keith was slightly on edge and very pissed off.

He knew that this wasn't a good idea. Stupid Lance and his stupid loud whining. Keith would be lying if he said that he didn’t have fun though. The party was stereotypical, loud pop music blasting in all the speakers, every person had their red cup in hand, some were dancing, others were playing, and a few were chatting here and there. However, Lance was a lot of fun to be with at a party. He didn’t care about anything, he was so friendly and joyous that it affected everyone around him and made the atmosphere a bit more enjoyable for them and Keith. He even made sure to count Keith in with whatever he were to do.

Hence why Keith was surprised when Lance asked him to dance. He flushed red and blamed it on the beer when the same boy asked if he was okay. He wasn't expecting to be asked to dance, especially not by Lance, and after several tries, he managed to successfully get through the other boy’s head that he had no interest in doing so. He was content just watching Lance dance. He was a complete natural, it made Keith wonder if all latin folks had the talent etched in their blood because Lance sure as hell did. The way his expression remained happy and calm while moving so well, so effortlessly, his hips swaying side to side as if that was their main anatomic function, was mesmerizing. His arms never seemed awkward as the motioned to the beat, bending at just the right moments. It was all too much for Keith. “Stop, stop, stop,” Lance repeated while the other boy managed to pull himself back before Lance hit the concrete. Keith pulled his arm over his shoulder once more, giving support to the drunk juvenile. “I’m gonna...sit,” uttered Lance, who flopped down to edge of the sidewalk, the time too late for any cars to be out in the neighborhood. “Why’d you let me drink so much?” he groaned out as he put a hand against his face in hopes of getting the world to stop spinning. 





“Look, it’s not like I wanted to even come to the stupid party, let alone take care of your drunk ass,” Keith said, a bit frustrated, sitting beside Lance. The other boy was swaying from side to side, probably falling asleep or something. Keith had to grab him by his arm to steady him and prevent Lance from face-planting on the asphalt. Eventually, the intoxication reached a stage where Lance became a lot more quieter and observative. He was resting his head on his knees and looked up at Keith, and he just stared for what felt like a lifetime to Keith. “Quit staring,” he hissed. “I’m not!” Lance said defensively, but then a smile crept on his lips. “I am.” He chuckled. Keith only shook his head and turned to the other side as he felt heat creep on his face. “Well stop it. I don’t like it.” “Why not? Why didn’t you want me to hook you up with anyone? You’re handsome Keith, you just need to interact with people more.” Keith was completely caught off-guard. His blush only flowed everywhere else, from his cheeks to his ears, and then he recalled that back at the dorm he had decided to tell Lance (once again) to not hook him up with anyone. He didn’t need anyone anyway, not in that sense at least. Except for one person. “I’m not interested in dating anyone at the moment.” He shrugged dismissively. Lance sat straight and furrowed his brows. “Bullshit.” He looked a lot more stable than he had a few seconds ago. “What?” Keith asked, confused. “Bullshit,” Lance repeated, “tell me the truth, I know when you’re lying.” 


Keith sighed and turned to look at Lance again. He looked annoyed and it only made Keith feel a lot more frustrated towards the cuban boy. “I’m not lying Lance. Why do you care anyway?” It was a genuine question, he wanted to know, he wanted to hear what Lance would tell him, even though he knew that he wasn’t going to hear anything he was expecting. As if he was expecting anything from Lance anyway. “Because!” Lance threw his arms in the air, clearly sobered up. Leave it to Keith to manage to do that with incessant bickering. “I just- I don’t know, I wanna know! Hunk has a girlfriend, Pidge is clearly an asexual, Shiro’s dating Allura, and I’m trying to look for someone. But you—you’re just confronting life on your own! You’re an emotional wreck -we all know that- and I seriously think that getting someone, at least a small interest, will-I don’t know-help you out in someway, I guess.” “Just mind your own business Lance. I don’t need you telling me this stuff. It’s not necessary for everyone to have someone in their lives, I’m fine as I am.” Blatant lie. “Why are you acting like this?”  Why was Lance exasperated over the topic? Keith didn’t know, but he blamed it on the alcohol. Keith stood up and so did Lance. “Just drop it, Lance.” He said through gritted teeth. Never again was he going to another party with him. “Tell me, Keith. I just want to help you out!”Immediately, Keith turned to Lance, fueled by immense indignation, and decided at that moment that it was going to be the best solution to just tell him. Forget it. He was done. “Fine, I’ll tell you why the fuck not!” He sounded aggressive but he couldn't give any shits. “You’re so blind Lance! So fucking blind! Can’t you just stop and think for a second or two? Just question yourself-”

“Don’t go at me like that.” Lance cut in. “Look I only want to know why you’re-” “BECAUSE! YOU KEEP TRYING TO HOOK ME UP WITH SOMEONE, BUT I LIKE YOU!” Keith was full on screaming by now, and he was grateful that they were at an empty street at 2am. “A-and I know—I know, that you don’t feel the same way and you probably never will but I just can’t stop it. This-” he gestured between them, “it just kind of happened and I’m in too deep Lance. I’m such a fool for you and you just don’t get it.” He was breathing heavily now, he didn’t think that pouring his heart out would be physically tiring. “I’m crazy for you and you have no idea how much it pains me, Lance. Watching you, being around you—it’s a constant reminder of what I want but can’t have.” Keith noticed his vision became hazy, he felt the familiar sting of tears forming in his violet eyes, but he didn’t dare let one shed.

He was strong. He could do this without the waterworks and the lip quivering. “I don’t expect you to do anything, or give it a shot.” He continued, a lot more calm than he was when they started this conversation. “But you wanted the truth so here it is. This is why.” He went to sit back down on the sidewalk, when he felt Lance’s large hand grab his arm and pull him.Next thing Keith knew, he was being embraced by the tall Cuban.He was rather taken aback by the act. Out of all the things Lance could’ve done Keith was not expecting this—at all. 

“Are you just going to stand there?” Lance asked him, his breath tingling Keith’s ear, making him nuzzle into Lance’s chest unintentionally. He was blushing terribly and he was very glad that Lance couldn't see him. He decided that wrapping his arms around Lance was better than to just stay rooted and motionless. Plus, there was no guarantee that he would ever have the opportunity of hugging Lance ever again. “I’m so sorry, Keith.” Lance began. “I really am. I had no idea and, you’re right -I am clueless, I am an idiot and God was I a huge dick to you just now, and I’m sorry-” “Stop apologizing.” Keith mumbled.  
“Let me do this.” Lance told him. “Look; it’s true that I may never reciprocate your feelings though, this doesn't mean I don’t love you Keith. This is more of a friend love and I’m sorry, but I like where things are now-” He felt Keith shudder in his arms and he held the jet black haired teen tighter than he’s ever had with anyone. 

“It’s okay to cry. It’s completely fine. You’re human Keith, you need to remind yourself that. You can make mistakes, you can succeed and you can fall in and out of love. I’m not forcing you to though, but I just don’t want to cause you any more pain than I’ve already have without knowing.”

Lance separated himself from Keith and offered him a toothy smile, his trademark Lance Smile, and he grabbed Keith’s shoulders. Keith’s face was stained with tears and he felt slightly embarrassed, but he didn’t care anymore. He was an open book to Lance now or, as open as he’ll ever get, so he just stood there, listening to Lance, letting his words sink into his skin, his mind and heart, as if they were the Lord’s word, and he was okay with that. He was okay with having to finally face the situation when he told Lance about his true feelings. Keith had imagined all these far fetched scenarios-the less likely they were to happen, the more Keith dwelled on them-so it was a huge relief to finally get that huge weight off his chest.

“You’re strong, Keith.” Lance continued. “One of the strongest I know. So you will get through this, whether you want my help or not—it’s your call, but, don’t give it much thought like you do everything. Just let it happen.” Keith looked away from Lance and then Lance let go of Keith’s shoulders. Keith longed to be touched more by Lance. Anywhere and everywhere, it didn’t matter, but he knew that it was a bad idea. He wasn’t going to make things worse than they already were for him so, instead he went for the usual attitude he took upon when he was hanging with Lance.

“Whod’ve thought that you were good at comforting a person?” Not as salty as his ordinary comments directed to Lance but, considering the circumstances, he felt it was the most appropriate. Plus, he just wasn’t in the mood start bickering with Lance again. Lance scoffs and stands straight, clearly liking what he had heard. He placed a hand on his chest and offered Keith a cocky smile that made Keith want to punch and kiss him to death—there was no in between. “What more could you expect from the one and only, great, Lance McClain.” Keith only rolled his eyes and they both sat again on the edge of the sidewalk, now, admiring the view of the early morning sky. There was a gentle breeze that made Keith shiver, but he didn’t mind it at all, it feel refreshing and he loved how the air seemed to dance around his body and through his hair; closing his eyes, he stuck his chin up in the air and breathed deeply, there was a smile on his lips and he wasn’t even sure why but he wasn’t going to question it right now—or ever, probably. “Hey Keith,” Lance’s voice was so small and calm it sent some chills over every single part of his body. He turned to look at his blue eyed crush and saw that he had his full attention towards the starts but then, he turned to Keith and wore a small and warm smile. “If I were gay though, I think I’d be head over heels for you.”

Getting over Lance was probably the hardest thing Keith would ever have to do in his life.

@klangst-week y r u making me do this? I hope you guys liked this AU! Pls reblog and like!~

[hypnoticharlequin]

Hypnotist Posters (Again!)

I’ve done this once before, but there are so many interesting old hypnotist posters around I couldn’t resist showing off some more I’ve come across.

I covered the Flints in my previous post but I wanted to show this one off. I actually unironically love this poster as it reminds me of Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s works due to the floral pattern and the lush skin tone used on Miss Flint. 

What I have found out since the last installment was that Miss Flint was heavily advertised as a solo performer, getting her own posters and other things. According to one source I found, she was famed for her dress collection and women would attend her shows, just to see what dress she was wearing that night!

Also, she had the cutest nickname a hypnotist has ever had. Seriously, “The Little Hypnotic Subeam” is just fantastic and would actually make her stand out amongst her contemporaries who went for much more formal and authoritarian titles.

I think this poster is from the 1890s. At least that is the date I see linked to this poster when it is mentioned and the art style sort of fits that date.

Obviously, the first thing that draws your attention is Kennedy and his pose. Where a lot of hypnotists went for a more intimidating or solid pose, Kennedy seems rather fancy-free.

Also, it’s nice to see the moon from Majora’s Mask getting work. This was one of it’s earlier appearances while it was still young and fresh faced. The people on the moon are pretty cute, I like the woman in the middle, I mean it takes a lot of effort to be having so much fun you almost fall off the moon. This poster seems to fit in with a tradition that saw magicians hanging out with various magical beings on their posters. Seriously, the sheer number of posters that feature magicians just chilling with Satan is pretty mind blowing.

If I could sum this poster up in one sound, it would be never ending screams. 

Now, I can’t find much about “The Amazing Ormond” but I do wonder if this is Ormond McGill, better known as Dr. Zomb. He wrote the book “Encyclopedia of Genuine Stage Hypnotism” which is still considered to be the bible of stage hypnosis. 

This poster is honestly terrifying. I’m not sure if it’s partially due to the reproduction, old paper stock with a black background is notorious for its inability to scan well. But the black eyes mixed with the uplighting give this a seriously creepy vibe, Ormond’s face having an almost uncanny valley look to it.  

But, I can’t deny it worked, I’m not able to go through my folder of hypnosis posters without this one catching my eye. In fact, one of the main reasons I am writing this post is so I can delete this image from my hard drive. 

I don’t know why, but this poster reminds me of a perfume ad. I’m not sure if it’s the color palette or Miss Brandon’s slightly wistful look. 

Joan Brandon is pretty famous in magic circles for being the first televised female magician. She was famous for combing her magic with orchestra music (played by her own orchestra) and was very well known for her signature trick, a magic cocktail bar (a variation on the Think-A-Drink trick.) 

In hypnosis circles, she is most known for her books, The Art of Hypnotism, Successful Hypnotism, The Science of Self-Hypnosis and Help Yourself Thru Hypnotism and Self Hypnosis which are all still good reads even to this day. 

The Art Of Hypnotism is also known for its rather amusing photographic illustrations. It’s easy to find online but quite often turns up for a few dollars on eBay or in second-hand bookstores and I thoroughly recommend it. 

This poster is one of those I see around a lot and only recently bothered to look into the history of. It’s from 1966 and I always thought it was from later on. This poster looks just so very 60s I really had it down as a later parody of the style as opposed to actually just being of that era. 

It actually took me a long time to find out even the most basic things about this guy but Merlin (real name William Joseph Rawle) was from Australia and was Australia’s oldest performing hypnotist.

I want to zoom into the text under Merlin for a moment, as it is rather glorious. 

It really is a throwback to older posters to have a description of the acts performed front and center, but compared to some of the older hypnosis posters (which promised utterly insane things) this seems rather restrained. In fact, these are now considered stock hypnotist tricks.  

What makes me chuckle is the onion eating trick. It’s done all the time but it always interests me to see which fruit is used as the replacement taste. In the UK it always tended to be an apple, and I’ve seen orange used a bit in the US. I wonder if you could do a chart of “onion taste replacement fruits” arranged by geography. 

Being the oldest performing hypnotist, Merlin has several other posters over the years. 

This one focuses more on his mind reading as opposed to his hypnotism, but I utterly love the design. It has this almost 3D effect which makes it look like the poster has a few actual physical layers, but I do suspect it might be the issue with scanning black ink rearing it’s ugly head once more.  

While the last one was pretty joyous this one is practically metal, with its skulls and very industrial images in the crystal ball.

 This poster seems very old school compared to the other two, mostly due to how text-heavy it is. But unlike some posters, the claims all seem pretty normal by today’s standards. The only one that sticks out to me is the one about treating children for nervous complaints while they sleep. All the methods I have seen for this involve just standing and whispering to your child while they sleep because nothing helps the nerves more than an adult looming over your bed whispering at you in the deepest, darkest night. 

Virgil and Julie were a big magic act in the 1950s and 1960s taking shows containing a few hundred illusions around the world. 

Hypnotism played a part but it was nowhere near the focus of the show, but this poster is something to behold, it really is a mish-mash of everything that was hip in the era. The B-movie Esq UFO and the almost eerie-cutie spacewoman flying around it. 

Julie’s costume is very similar to that of the Jeannie from the Tv series I Dream Of Jeannie which debuted in 1965 and went a long way to putting the “harem” costume we know today into the public consciousness.

I want to end on this poster which became quite the rabbit hole for me and I’m frankly not 100% sure I’m correct on all of it. 

I had a real good laugh when I saw the Reveer because he looks like every stereotype of a magician and hero cowboy got thrown into a blender. The turban and the Lone Ranger mask just look so silly together. 

I also found it funny that his name was close to that of Reveen, the hypnotist famous for his performances in Canada who would have been performing at around this time.

Then I got to digging and found I could find hardly anything on Reveer, apart from some poster seller listing him as Tony Cole, a magician who apparently worked sharpshooting into his magic act which does explain the Lone Ranger mask.

Tony Cole also apparently had posters of his own, but all I can find of them is the following: 

And no, Tumblr isn’t going weird, that is the only image I can find of one of his posters. I did, however, turn up a news article on him from 1977 from “The Independent Record from Helena, Montana” advertising a show he was going to do. 

As you can see the resembelence is there so I presume this is the same guy.

As an aside, you might realize this picture is totally and utterly unreadable. The place I found it had the plain text of the article, unfortunately, it was made by OCR copying the document and the results are an utter mess.

Some highlights include: 

To be able to make someone do what another person desires carl brln^a gleam .into the eyes of ambitious people. 

This impression oF hypnotism's power is one of the mast fallacious and dangerous, according to Cole, who when pressed will admit bis lull name is Tony Colo, a hypnotist, magician ami entertainer.

In between all the weird OCR errors, we can see a recurring theme that Tony Cole doesn’t like to use his first name, which means he is the Cole from the latter poster and would explain why he would make a stage character.

M PEOPLE L'NDEH HYPNOSIS won t do anything they wouldn't do normally, " ttie Canadian-born entertainer said In an Interview In Helena. 

Cole recalled ihnl a Groat Falls A A W manager had been hypnotized and was told he was Elvis Presley. The man began gyrating and singing, dulng spills and performing in the late-lfloOs style (bat endeared Presley lo the teen set. Cole said. He added that the shy A & W manager would not normally rarry 1 don't think a person has to put someone in an embarrassing situation or use anything smutty or not in clean family fun in order to entertain. 

I’m sure we can all agree that Elvis’ late-LfloOs style was by far his best style and one that really became his signature. And all of the teen girls were into Elvis for his pet bat. 

He tries, to Tony Cole, a hypnotist, magician and all-around entertainer correct any misconceptions about hypnotism, anri he hypnotizes willing members of the audience. 

He tries to himself? Is that some artsy way of saying he tries to be himself?

On his stage, people might shiver In Ihc arctic temperatures he has described or away In Lhc breeze like palm trees. 

And his chauffeur and helper, Wayne Adolph, emphatically added In his gravelly voice. "It's real."

I don’t know why that bit made me laugh so hard, but it really did. I’m not sure if it’s the fact the guy is called his “helper” or just the fact he decided to just randomly join the interview. 

MORE AND MORE PEOPLE are believing in Ihr authenticity of hypnosis, contends Cole, who has certificates from at least three schools of hypnotism and who has been licensed to leach hypnotism Physicians, dentists, psychiatrists, pollliuUnH, ministers, entertainers, teachers, lawyers, salesmen, atnletes and pilots are among those, who are studying or using hypnosis, Cole said. 

Some beneficial uses for which hypnosis Is being sLudled include easing childbirth, treating alcoholism, slopping smokers from Indulging and treating empbysemn and asthma victims to breathe properly. 

All of these arc medical uses or hypnosis and "the practitioner must by certified as a hypnolechuician and receive a doctor's prescribed order before he hypnotizes someone. Cole said. 

Yes, everyone remember to become certified as a hypnolechuician, that is a very important qualification to have. 

But ask him about himself and the answers dissolve in shrugs and evasiveness. He doesn't like to use his first name. 

Again, some more information that works with the idea that Cole had a few side characters he played sometimes. 

 He makes good money at hypnotism and his oilier entertainments as he travels across the country and into Canada. 

However, I do not wish to see Mr. Cole’s oilier entertainments.

"I know I have a talent but that talent should he scared. ]f pc0pte |,ave a latent and don't share it they re ripping it elf." 

And your guess is as good as mine on this last one. 

So there we have it, The Great Reveer, hypnotist and fiction all rolled into one oddly costumed package. I wish I could find more on this as there seems to be an interesting story in here, but unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be any records I can find.

However, if this taught us anything, it’s that if I get bored of hypnosis, I can just turn this into a bad OCR blog. 

[electricdazemag]

Black Top Lines: Interview & Review

by Erin Christie

Black Top Lines, an alternative punk band hailing from Norwalk, Connecticut, is comprised of vocalist Julia Breen, guitarists Justin Graff and Angelica Martin, bassist Mateo Roldan, and drummer Asha Locke. This past Saturday, February 11th, the foursome put on their second live gig with another amazing local act, Anxious, at the infamous Darien Depot in Darien, CT.  Upon entering the venue, it was clear that this was bound to be a night no one there would ever forget.  As the night wore on, the air was filled with laughter, the sounds of joyous reunions and “long time, no see’s,” killer tunes, and light-hearted banter, each second leading up to the well- anticipated set.  

As Black Top Lines took the stage, surrounded by friends, family, and other familiar faces, they appeared to be at ease, at home, and ready to knock everyone’s socks off--collectively a fear that they were certainly able to achieve.  Despite this being only the second live performance within their career, it was a show unlike any other, one where the true heart, passion, and drive of each member was blatantly present within each chord progression, chorus, and tempo- change.  The audience drew out their cellphones and lighters, swayed to the rhythm, and sang along to each song throughout the set, much of which consisted of various covers from bands and artists such as Paramore, PVRIS, Halsey, and even a spontaneous rendition of Smash Mouth’s hit, “All Star,” which drew a great amount of laughter from the audience and band alike.  Of the two incredible original songs that BTL performed, the final song was surely powerful, an anthem lined with anger and aggression, one explaining that a woman’s body and what they wear in no sense justifies objectification and cat-calling as explained through lead- singer, Julia’s, inspiring and beyond powerful closing speech, encouraging women to stand and speak up for themselves in the face of oppression.  The entire set was one that radiated positive, light, and warmth, managing to leave the night singed with a perfect sense of euphoria which was truly a beautiful sight to behold.

Though Black Top Lines’ career has just begun, it is without a doubt that within the next coming months, their talent will be able to shine through, allowing them to elevate to heights that they’ve never reached before and gain the recognition and love that they truly deserve.

Following their gig, Electric Daze had the wonderful opportunity to sit down with Julia, Mateo, Angelica, Asha, and Justin to discuss their aspirations, hopes for the future of Black Top Lines, and unapologetic love for their fans and each other.

Electric Daze: In regards to music, have you always been interested in playing?  When did you realize that you wanted to start a band and/or turn to music professionally?

Justin: Okay, well, I come last.

[Everyone laughs]

Julia: So, basically, I met Asha last year and we had talked about how we both wanted to be in a band and that just never happened.  This year, I still wanted to be in a band and I decided to text Asha since we both wanted to do it freshman year, and I asked her “Do you want to be in a band with me?” and she immediately responded “FUCK YES!” in all caps.”

Asha: I think it was like a Sunday night.

Julia: We practiced like once at her house after that. I later texted Angelica about it and she didn’t even know she was in the band until probably two weeks later but she was!

Angelica: I remember we were in science class and we had been coming up with band names and logos and it suddenly hit me… wait, I’m in this!

Mateo: And then here’s where I came in.  Angelica had asked me if I wanted to be in the band and she was basically hunting me down, telling me that I had to join because she wouldn’t do it alone.

Asha: and then, Justin came along.

Justin: Yeah, I came to the last show.  I had texted one of my friends that I wanted to be in a band and suddenly, like two weeks later, I was in.

Asha: You’re welcome [laughs]

 ED: Did you have any strong musical influence when you were growing up?  Who would you say has inspired you the most to either pursue music further or travel down the path that you have in terms of sound, genre, etc?

 Justin: About half of my family is drawn towards art and the other half is drawn more toward music, so at the same time that I was being pushed toward art, I was taking music lessons.  I had always wanted to be like my dad and my mom so I was really conflicted- I didn’t know whether to choose music or art for a while.

Angelica: It’s sort of the same thing with me- I think half of my dad’s side plays music (I’m not going to get into numbers because that’s a lot) [laughs].  I’ve been playing orchestra for about eight years but I wasn’t really interested in playing orchestra so when Julia asked me if I wanted to be in the band and said that they needed a guitarist, I was like “cool, I kinda know how to play the guitar!”

Asha: I think my biggest musical influence would probably be my dad because he’s a rapper so I’ve always gone to him and asked him for help with everything like “I don’t know how to do this band stuff I need your help.”  And my mom’s been a DJ so if I didn’t choose music, it probably would’ve been weird.

Mateo: And for me, my brother has been a huge influence because he started playing guitar out of nowhere—I thought “Nope! Six strings are too many for me so why don’t I play bass?” And that’s exactly why I chose that.

 ED: This is slightly stereotypical but where did your band name, Black Top Lines, come from and what does it mean?

 Angelica: Asha, take it away!

Asha: Yeah so it was probably seven in the morning and I was on the bus on my way to school, hating life as I usually do, and I thought that I might as well think of some band names.  I pretty much would always come up with some ideas here and there.  So I had been looking down at the street, which was a black top, and the lines on the street and it sort of just hit me!  I had the idea in my head already but it had been “Black Top Lives,” because I feel like there are so many people that use and cross the street daily so that inspired me in a way.  There’s so many people on this planet and they all have different stories.

 ED: What is your usual songwriting process?  Do all of you have certain roles that you take or does it shift from time to time?  When you write, where do you draw most of your inspiration from?  

 Julia: Yeah, so with the first original that we wrote, Mateo had written a really awesome bassline and Asha wrote all of the lyrics.

Angelica: I think she tried to record it on her phone beforehand to get it to work—I think we still have it!  We had just tried to play around with everything and see what sounded best and I guess, from there, it just kind of happened?

Justin: Yeah, I think I kind of procrastinated the whole time. I started learning the bassline and two practices later, I just came in an improvised.  I just self- taught myself by watching Angelica play.  I remember hearing Julia’s first song and suggesting that we played it a different way be she said “No.  I don’t like that.  It doesn’t sound like my song!”

Julia: I wrote the last song that we played [laughs].  I mean, I play the guitar a little bit but I don’t really know the music terminology or the scales so I really just wrote the song through imagining what it would sound like and composing it mentally.  Everyone is super talented so it really just fell into place through adding everyone’s different ideas.

 ED: Have you been working on anything recently?  

 Asha: Yeah, actually! We have a song in the works that I wrote a while ago so watch out for that!

 ED: I’m sure it’s a bit nerve-wracking to perform in front of crowds—have you found it to be that way or do you feel relatively calm in terms of live performances?  Are there any pre- show rituals that you have to hopefully ease your nerves?

 Angelica: Oh my god! I’ve been waiting for this!

Asha:  So we have a pre- show ritual that we do before every show.

Mateo: So many people know about it and they always put it on their Snapchat stories.

Asha: We huddle in a circle like we’re a football team and we just sing All Star [by Smash Mouth] and so everyone gets really hype.  It’s really funny.

Angelica: I think it gets rid of a lot of my nervous energy.

Asha: It adds onto mine, though, I don’t know why.  I’m usually really fine all day until like five minutes before the show starts but this show, I was just worrying all day [laughs]

Justin: I was really calm today until right before we went on.

Mateo: What basically happens for me is that I get super nervous right before we play but when we all walk onto the stage, or platform, or wherever we’re playing, I hear everyone screaming and chanting for us and that calms me down.

Angelica: I think it really helps that the crowd is usually made up of a ton of our friends so even if we screw up, we know that they’ll love us anyway [laughs].  It’s really reassuring in that sense.

 ED: What have been your most memorable show/ performance?  

 Angelica: I think our last show here [the Darien Depot] was the most memorable for me.  A lot of our friends had organized fan projects and it was really cool.  I think during Roman Holiday, they had held up colored lights and organized them to make a pride flag.  And during our last song, we had had confetti.  We also met Justin that night so I mean, it has to be!

Asha: The first thing we asked him was “Can you play All Star on the guitar?” and he said yes so we let him in immediately.

 ED: What are your plans for the future? Where do you see Black Top Lines in a few months?

 Asha: I honestly don’t know where I see myself in the next few days but I just hope that we’re all alive, steady, and doing okay.  It’s kind of hard to tell where this band will take us in the next few months.

Angelica: I just hope that we’re going to be able to play a lot more live shows and write more originals (and possible less covers).

Asha: We do have another show coming up really soon for the Homeless Men’s Youth Shelter—it’s a free show for charity to raise awareness for the struggle of the homeless youth in Connecticut. There’s going to be a ton of people there—it’ll be really cool.

Angelica: Yeah! But it’s all really up in the air besides that.

Justin: It’s kinda bad for me [laughs].  Well, I’ll be in college by the end of this year so maybe I’ll come back to play a few shows but I’m just kinda here for now.

Angelica: Just don’t go to college.  You just can’t leave.

 ED: In terms of Black Top Lines, if there was anything that you wanted future fans to know about you, what would you tell them?

 Asha:  I think that I would want them to know that, if anything, if they come to see our show, definitely either before the show, after the show, or during, you can be whoever you want to be and to be yourself.

Justin: Everyone’s welcome, for sure.

Mateo: We don’t care what you look like, where you come from, what you have on your shoulders… we just love everyone.  We want to just throw out so much love to everyone.

Angelica: You’re welcome to come into our arms- I will definitely hug everyone.

Julia: We just want to spread a ton of positivity always.

 ED: Is there anything else that you want to say really quickly?

 Mateo: I love you, mom.

Asha: We should definitely make a shirt that says “I love you, mom” on it now- we have to.

 Make sure to check out Black Top Lines and follow their whereabouts on social media to keep up with what they’re up to within the next coming months: you certainly won’t regret it!

Instagram and Twitter: @blacktoplines

Business Inquiries: blacktoplines@gmail.com

[jessekg]

9 key moments in the Black Panther's 50-year evolution

The Black Panther hits theatres this week, and the hysteria and hype surrounding the movie is very, very real.

Starring Chadwick Boseman as the Black Panther and directed by Ryan Coogler (Creed), it's the first film in the Marvel Universe to feature majority Black actors, be helmed by a Black director and be set in a (fictional) African country. Not since Wesley Snipes' Blade has a Black superhero been given such a red-carpet treatment.

In fact, Snipes recently revealed that he tried, unsuccessfully, to get a Black Panther picture off the ground in the '90s.

"I think Black Panther spoke to me because he was noble, and he was the antithesis of the stereotypes presented and portrayed about Africans, African history and the great kingdoms of Africa," he told the Hollywood Reporter. "It had cultural significance, social significance. It was something that the Black community and the white community hadn't seen before."

WhileBlade, released in 1998, ended up being the first hit film based on a Marvel character. Black Panther is on track to be another runaway success, both financially and in its cultural significance. Just take a look at the hashtag #whatdoesblackpanthermeantome, which shows zealous fans remarking on the significance of seeing positive Blackrepresentation on the big screen (everybody owes it to themselves to watch this particularly joyous reaction).

But it was a long road to get here. Below, we trace the key moments in the history of the Black Panther.

The Coal Tiger

Marvel founder Stan Lee and artist Jack Kirby are credited with first coming up with the idea for Black Panther in the mid-'60s, although Kirby's original design and what we see today are drastically different. In fact, even the name was different during the conceptual stage, with Kirby originally calling the hero Coal Tiger.

The Coal Tiger was a regal, albeit old fashioned-looking hero with no mask, complete with a bright yellow jumper and matching boots overtop black tights. Thankfully, this version never made it to print and only exists as a conceptual sketch, seen here.

The original concept for the Black Panther by Jack Kirby. (Marvel)

"I came up with the Black Panther because I realized I had no Blacks in my strip," Kirby said in an interview, highlighting the fact that even during the civil rights era — a time when Black musicians saw unprecedented crossover success — Black representation was still a huge blind spot in comics. "It suddenly dawned on me — believe me, it was for human reasons — I suddenly discovered nobody was doing Blacks. And here I am a leading cartoonist and I wasn't doing a Black."

The Black Panther vs. the Black Panther party

The Black Panther made his official comic book debut in the Fantastic Four, Vol. 1 No. 52 in July 1966, which is the same year the Black Panther party was founded (though some months later). While the comic book and party were not affiliated, they both tapped into the social consciousness of the day, especially in light of recent events such as Malcolm X's assassination and the Watts riots in California. Despite being across the country from each other — Marvel in New York's garment district, the Black Panther founding members in Oakland, Calif. — the comic and the party became intertwined. They both served the need to represent Black Americans, with Marvel choosing to do so by introducing the character of T'Challa, the leader of a fictional country called Wakanda.

"At that point I felt we really needed a Black superhero," Lee told the Huffington Post in 2016. "And I wanted to get away from a common perception. So what I did, I made him almost like [Fantastic Four's] Reed Richards. He's a brilliant scientist and he lives in an area that, under the ground, is very modern and scientific and nobody suspects it because on the surface it's just thatched huts with ordinary 'natives.' And he's not letting the world know what's really going on or how brilliant they really are."

An African utopia

To Lee's point, Wakanda is an African country that was never colonized, due in part to its advanced technology that allowed Wakandans to hide their country from the rest of the world. This idea of an African utopia remained throughout the comic book's history, echoed in the rallying cry "Wakanda forever" from the 2018 film, one that has since been embraced by the film's stars.

From his first appearance, readers were introduced to the Black Panther as both a superhero and the leader of a nation that was technologically superior to the U.S. due to its wealth of vibranium, the fictional metal that is used to construct both Black Panther's suit and Captain America's shield. These are all important factors to the Black Panther's backstory that have remained consistent to this day, even as the Black Panther storylines, over the decades, became more American-focused.

"T'Challa — the Black Panther and mythical ruler of Wakanda — has always struck as the product of the Black nationalist dream, a walking revocation of white supremacist myth," Ta-Nehisi Coates, the Atlantic journalist and author who helmed the 2015 Black Panther comic, wrote at the time.

The first Black superhero

The Black Panther was originally drawn with a cape and open cowl, similar to Batman, which also showed his skin colour. However, Kirby ultimately redesigned his costume, darkening his suit and introducing a full face mask, a look that has remained more or less consistent throughout the character's history. You can see both versions of the cover below.

Even though it was apparent to readers that the character was Black — the Black Panther removes his mask within the pages of his first appearance in Fantastic Four — it wasn't until 1968 that you would see the colour of T'Challa's skin on the cover of a comic book: when the Black Panther appeared in issue No. 52 of The Avengers in a cowl (a partial mask that showed his jaw). This was important because the Black Panther was, in fact, the first Black superhero to appear in a mainstream comic book, predating other mainstream Black heroes, such as the Falcon (1969), Luke Cage (1972) and John Stewart as the Green Lantern (1971). The cowl was short lived, however, and the Black Panther soon returned to his more traditional full-coverage costume.

The Black Leopard

Over time, Marvel got weary about being so closely associated by name with the Black Panther Party, so they changed their superhero's name. It didn't go over well.

Beginning in Fantastic Four No. 119 (February 1972), the Black Panther briefly tried using the name Black Leopard, explaining it with an awkward bit of dialogue within that same issue. While commenting on the name's "political connotations" in the U.S., T'Challa is careful to say, "I neither condemn nor condone those who have taken up the name — but T'Challa is a law unto himself." It's a speech that sounds like it was taken straight from a Marvel press release, written with such hair-splitting caution as to not offend either side while still distancing the character from the political group.

Readers were not fans of the change, and the renaming didn't last long. Neither "the readers nor the creators cared for the new name," Lee told Alter Ego magazine in 2011.

And while Marvel shied away from the politicization of the Black Panther name, many of the superhero's more popular storylines were in fact very political. In the same issue where the Black Leopard name is introduced, T'Challa travels to the fictional country of Rudyarda, a thinly veiled stand in for apartheid-era South Africa. Even the country's name is based on famous British colonial writer Rudyard Kipling, author of, among other things, "the White Man's Burden." In one of the final scenes from this issue, the Thing even smashes through segregated doors before leaving the country in a heavy-handed metaphor for the politics of the day. The Black Panther name may have been too political for Marvel, but the issues of the day certainly weren't.  

'Wakandans stop being refugees from a Tarzan movie'

Fast forward one year to 1973, and the Black Panther officially stars in his own run of solo books as part of the uncomfortably named Jungle Action series.

The Black Panther's run in Jungle Action ran from September 1973 to November 1976 and was critically acclaimed, even pioneering a format that's the norm today: a self-contained, multi-issue story, a.k.a. the graphic novel. Called Panther's Rage and penned by Don McGregor, it was conceived as a complete novel told over 13 issues and introduced the antagonist Killmonger, a key character played by Michael B. Jordan in the film.

McGregor was encouraged by Marvel to include more white characters, so in January 1976, he did just that — though perhaps not in the way his editors had in mind — by facing the Black Panther off against the Ku Klux Klan. Captain America may have famously punched Adolph Hitler, but he never drop kicked a member of the Klan in the face quite like the Black Panther (see image at top)

Over 20-odd years, McGregor would introduce other extended Panther storylines (Panther's Prey; Panther's Quest) that helped develop the backstory of Wakanda and T'Challa's character in much more depth. Readers learned more about T'Challa's strength as a leader of an advanced nation, and how he deals with the constant threat from both imperialist and interior forces.

"These stories are where Wakandans stop being refugees from a Tarzan movie," writer Evan Narcisse so aptly points out.

The Black Panther becomes cool, with some help from Chandler Bing

Following an unsuccessful solo run penned by Kirby, sales and interest in the Black Panther character waned during the '80s. Storylines became more cliché, adding very little to make the character stand out from other Marvel superheroes. Then, in the '90s, Christopher Priest took up the mantle and reinvigorated the character completely.

"[Priest] had the classic run on Black Panther, period, and that's gonna be true for a long time," Coates told New York magazine for a profile on Priest titled, "The Man who Made Black Panther Cool."

As such, Priest's run also introduced some fairly major changes to T'Challa's costume, with gold accents around his neck, wrists and waist, plus the return of his cape, giving the character his most regal look yet. Priest, more than anyone before him, focused on T'Challa as a king, so the superhero was going to look the part.

It's important to note that Priest was the first Black editor/writer to be hired by either of the big two comic brands, Marvel and DC. After some ups and downs, including leaving Marvel for DC, Priest was offered Black Panther in 1998. This was the beginning of a trend that saw many prominent Black artists take the lead on the Black Panther.

"I was a little horrified when the words 'Black' and 'Panther' came out of Joe's mouth," Priest later wrote. "I mean, Black Panther? Who reads Black Panther?"

Needless to say, Black Panther's history did not inspire Priest — "His supporting cast was a bunch of soul brothers in diapers with bones through their noses," Priest wrote — but he was eventually convinced to take the job, provided one detail: he wanted to create a white protagonist. In Priest's own words: "go to the wells of snarkdom, for the snarkiest snark I was capable of. Social politics as interpreted by Richard Belzer, Dennis Leary or Dennis Miller."

Inspired by an episode of Friends (yes, that Friends), Priest created a character based on Chandler Bing. Everett K. Ross was a paranoid, incompetent government employee tasked as a diplomatic escort for T'Challa, who was portrayed as a superlative statesman by day and merciless vigilante by night. The Black Panther series morphed into a mix of political thriller, satire and traditional superhero story, told through the sarcastic point of view of Ross, with an emphasis on T'Challa's cunning wit, strength and sense of justice.

"This was how the book achieved its small cult following," Priest writes.

To Priest, T'Challa wasn't simply a superhero, and the Black Panther was more than just a superhero title.

"People had not put as much thought into who and what Black Panther was before Christopher started writing the book," Coates says in that same New York magazine interview. "He thought that Black Panther was a king."

The formula worked, and Priest's run lasted for 62 issues, becoming the defining interpretation of the character.

Introducing women warriors

In line with his expansion of the Wakandan universe, Priest also introduced another major cast of characters to the Black Panther universe — the Dora Milaje, T'Challa's fierce and all-female personal bodyguards. They are some of the deadliest women in the Marvel universe, but in Priest's initial run, they were also depicted as ceremonial "wives in training," an idea that has not aged well.

Based on Tyra Banks and Naomi Campbell, the Dora Milaje were, at least in the early days, often depicted as femme fatales in short skirts and high heels. Thankfully the movie jettisons that aspect of the Dora Milaje background, focusing instead on the women's efficiency as warriors and, even more so, as key characters to the development of the story.

"I think the presentation of women is both fierce and very much feminine," Danai Gurira, who plays the head of the Dora Milaje, Okoye, in the film, tellsq. "I loved the way the women were shown being people that reach their fullest potential and live in it with a fearlessness and don't lose any part of being women. The myth is that's what happens, or women have to disguise their strength and I love that this is a world where that is just not the case."

In the 2000s, Reginald Hudlin, a writer, director and producer (his breakout film was 1990's House Party with rappers Kid 'n Play), focused on Black Panther's "street cred," drawing inspiration from Batman, Spike Lee and P Diddy. One key development from Hudlin was the creation of Shuri, T'Challa's younger sister and a tech genius who is played by Letitia Wright in the film. In the comics, she even replaces T'Challa for a time as the Black Panther and ruler of Wakanda.

This era emphasized, above all, the power and agency of the women in the Panther universe, a theme expanded on even more in the books to follow and film. Hudlin's run was also used as the basis for an excellent animated series, which ran on BET.

The extended Black Panther universe

When Coates picked up the mantle in 2016, he expanded on what Priest and Hudlin had built, but also subverted readers' expectations of the character to that point. In an interview, Coates describes fans needing T'Challa to be like Denzel Washington— "He's supposed to be smooth and effortlessly do x, y, and z." — but for Coates, it was also important to show T'Challa as flawed. "You got Denzel ... [but in] that movie where he's a drunken pilot."

Coates also focused the action back on Wakanda, questioning the very systems that held the otherwise utopian country together. Under Coates, women were made more and more crucial to the overall story, focusing more on their actual lives rather than how their characters relate to T'Challa.

Coates even ventured to develop the Panther universe in more depth with a spin-off, World of Wakanda, written with Roxane Gay (author of Bad Feminist, Hunger) and Yona Harvey, the first two Black women to write a series for Marvel. One storyline focused on the romance between Ayo and Anneka, two women who are also the driving forces to a Dora Milaje-led resistance that results in a civil war.  

World of Wakanda, however, was cancelled after six issues. Even with a best-selling author and National Book Award winner, perhaps even that was too much for the traditional comic book-buying public. The series was cancelled due to poor sales, with Marvel Studios' vice president even commenting at one point that "people didn't want any more diversity."

Although with 2018's Black Panther already breaking box-office records, this theory has been proven wrong. For a character that was, at its core, created in order to the reflect the times and to combat discrimination, it's a fitting next chapter for the Black Panther.