#clara oakes

[xabi0407]

nutcracker

check out my commissions (because it's almost december and maybe you want a gift for someone/a secret santa/gift exchange?)

[santaclaralocalnews]

At the Oct. 21 Santa Clara Children’s Business Fair, shoppers of all ages came out to support local youth entrepreneurs. This was the fifth year this annual event graced Live Oak Park. Santa Clara Mayor Lisa Gillmor and Council Member Kathy Watanabe spoke at the awards ceremony. Read complete news at SVVOICE.

[thepermanentrainpress]

UNDER THE RADAR: AUGUST 2023

Happy Labour Day, Canada! There’s plenty summer left to enjoy our August Under The Radar picks from Isobel feat. Chris Clute, Rosemary Ginger, Tiger Really, Noble Oak, Frantic and Mikenna Hope, and Clara Cloud and Jeremy Lim.

1) Isobel featuring Chris Clute - “Good Guy”

There’s something so tender about the title track of Isobel’s debut album and her extension of the olive branch; I feel empathetic towards her. It’s one for the people pleasers who give too much, but receive little in return and whose efforts are for naught. Adaptability to suit others’ needs (and wants) comes at a personal cost—a loss of identity and oneself. You can hear a genuine care in her voice, leading with grace when her actions are not reciprocated.

It’s a surprising listen because Isobel also has the capability to be bold and rightfully bitter, but “Good Guy” revels in her maturity and understanding of putting herself first (“No ill intent, but I had to protect myself / Saying sorry, but I don’t know for what now / Being human, that’s all I wanna be now”). A collaboration with Chris Clute on guitar, the song is nuanced and gentle in how she reasons with herself and recognizes the scars left behind. The layered acoustic guitars create intimacy and also propel it forward. Isobel’s tone meshes perfectly with the guitars and subtle production, it comes off very natural and unforced.  

“Good Guy” lives up to its name in hoping for resolve, even when it’s not warranted.

Written by: Chloe Hoy

2) Rosemary Ginger - “Ocean in Between”

“While we’re apart you’ll vanish like stardust.”

Written by vocalist/keyboardist Adam Doucette while he was living abroad in Barcelona, “Ocean in Between” depicts the unease that time and distance can spur in close relationships. Its surf-pop guitar tones and swelling pianos complement the waters and cosmos referenced throughout the lyrics; a shimmer to a vastly negative, self-fulfilling prophecy. It builds in energy and anxiety until downcast, distortion-heavy chords replace Doucette’s vocals. Amy Tan provides the wistful harmonies and wailing punk release I didn’t expect, but wholeheartedly needed. “Ocean in Between” is indicative of the band’s immersive musicianship and songwriting. It is beachy but bittersweet, feeling future heartache in the now.

Written by: Natalie Hoy

3) Tiger Really - “Dead Ringer”

"Dead Ringer” takes the ‘right person wrong time’ trope and provides a math rock accompaniment for those ill-fated, longing souls. Talks of antics and lingering feelings amidst a timeline that isn’t in our favour, the title calls to their visual inspiration of a person finding their soulmate—dying before they’re able to confess their love, and remaining in the veil in-between unable to move on. The regret and disappointment is masked by their intense sound; guitar lines that scream Midwest emo and classic jazz progressions, a breath of fresh air. It has a devil may care attitude while being cultured and calculated in matching their lyrics and tone. The purgatory hurts the most, unable to fully rid oneself of those desperate, fleeting moments.

The band is fronted by Chinese-Canadian songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Lian Shao, and has been making music together since 2020. I really like the bite and charisma that Tiger Really has shown, and it’s no doubt their debut album Swan Sting (out this October) is much anticipated.

Written by: Chloe Hoy

4) Noble Oak - “Let It Out”

With enough wanderlust to span today’s travel itineraries while feeling nostalgic for summers past, “Let It Out” is serenely spirited. The project of Vancouver’s Patrick Fiore, Noble Oak is immersive and perceptive in presentation; he’s very visual in storytelling. Inspired by the “spontaneity and recklessness” of his 2019 summer and the release at season’s end, the song beckons an unbridled freedom mixed with hesitation and longing. It has ethereal qualities with acoustic guitar and layered synths, but also embraces the crisp electronic beats and overall mellow ambiance. I was very impressed with the composition – how his voice gently oscillates in the repetition of the song’s title, and in the transitional dialogue it mirrors in sound (“And of those places you go when you’re sleeping / Do they show you a way to keep dreaming?”). 

When It Finds You is out now on Last Gang Records / MNRK. 

Written by: Chloe Hoy

5) Frantic feat. Mikenna Hope & Safe Trip - “You’ll See”

“You’ll See” is a powerful spoken word/hip-hop collaboration between Okanagan artists Frantic (Travis Andrews), Mikenna Hope, and producer Safe Trip. An ode to self-love in spite of the doubts, fears, and hardships perceived by oneself and others. I liked the alternating rap verse, RnB chorus. Cavernous beats and crisp clicks mingle with gentle strings and piano. Mikenna and Travis are both passionate performers and extremely talented at wordplay, with the latter often weaving mystical forest imagery into his narrative. That said, lines like “I am enough and I am here” are just as, if not more impactful. “You’ll See” reminds listeners that healing is a journey. Bare and ever-evolving, the sky never looked so clear.

Written by: Natalie Hoy

6) Clara Cloud and Jeremy Lim - “Ocean Lullaby”

Does mermaidcore exist? If so, “Ocean Lullaby” is a perfect anthem. It’s eerie and dreamlike as it lures listeners toward the dark side – you’re almost there, and it’s oh so enticing (“Your song can blur the lines between the sea and land”). Inspired by the mythology of sirens and the compelling nature of toxic relationships, the song has the right amount of electric wonder. Clara Cloud’s (Clara MacLeod) voice is mystifying; a spellbinding effect with her sweet tone whilst drawing closer to the proverbial edge. The beats are pulsing and sharp, like water rippling as it interacts with an outside source. Composer/producer Lim offers a vivid soundscape, interspersed with the mimicking of siren calls and pacing that follows the temptation.

In their debut music collaboration, the pair has the hypnotic factor—sinking into the depths of our desires to be saved, loved, or to face the great unknown. 

Written by: Chloe Hoy

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Does It Feel Like Christmas Now?

Pairing: Javi Gutiérrez x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Javi's not feeling too festive this year, his best friend Nic can't make his annual Christmas party... guess it's up to you to cheer up the handsome party host. Warnings: smut, fingering, 69, oral (m & f receiving), javi eats ass, cum eating, weed use, alcohol, muppet christmas carol, i just really want to touch javi's stomach, like this is just a bit of plot and story so that javi g can get his dick sucked. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Words: 3,600

Written for the lovely @beefrobeefcal Disaster Control challenge. Merry Christmas Beefy! I've LOVED getting to know you and partake in the unhinged with you. 💕🥩

Masterlist

🐻🐻🐻

Javi stands at the balcony lit in twinkling lights overlooking the ocean. Normally, this time of year fills him with joy, his mind dancing with the singing of the street corner choir, going home and getting warm by the fire. Because he knows it’s true wherever you find love it feels like Christmas. 

But this December, a melancholy has settled over. His sweet reunion with his friend this year will not be happening. 

He sighs and turns back to survey the scene of his staff setting up everything for his annual Christmas party. The ballroom of his mansion has been transformed into a winter wonderland. Enormous fir trees with their branches laden with shimmering ornaments and lights stand in each corner. Silver and gold tinsel drapes from the vaulted ceiling. Garlands of holly and ivy wind their way along the walls. Crystal chandeliers hang adorned with red velvet bows and clusters of mistletoe. Red and green spotlights dance along the marble dance floor. Well, at least all of his friends will have fun tonight.

How could he possibly enjoy his legendary Christmas soiree without Nic? For the past few years, Nicolas Cage has been the life of Javi’s annual yuletide bash. And now, with Nic all the way back home in Hollywood filming the newest installment of Cage Chronicles there was just no way he could make his way to Majorca.

It doesn’t feel like Christmas. 

—-

“What in the world?” you ask, mouth agape at the sight ahead of you. A palatial estate lays ahead of you as your friend Clara navigates the winding driveway. “How the hell did you work this invite out?”

Clara flashes a mischievous grin as she pulls the tiny Fiat up to the valet. “Let’s just say I have connections in high places,” she says with a wink.

“So, that guy you’ve been seeing?” you ask as the valet in a crisp red uniform opens your door.

“Yep,” she responds, punctuating the p. “It’s his cousin Javi’s party. Come on now, let’s get fucked up.”

Soft strains of “White Christmas” drift from inside as you approach the grand entrance. The massive oak doors swing open, revealing a scene that looks straight out of a Christmas movie. Your eyes widen as you take in everything before you. A waiter approaches with a tray of champagne flutes. You take one, the bubbles tickling your nose as you sip the crisp and obviously expensive champagne.

"Holy shit," you whisper to Clara. "This is insane.”

Clara tugs at your arm, pulling you towards a room where the music grows louder. As you enter the ballroom, your jaw drops at the spectacle ahead of you. Beautiful people all clad in beautiful outfits and jewels talk, laugh, and dance as a live band plays.

You scan the room, trying to take it all in. Your eyes landing on a man standing alone near one of the enormous Christmas trees. He’s impeccably dressed with a charming smile on his face, but there’s something melancholic that lines his features. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

His dark hair is slicked back, his broad body clad under a tailored suit, his deep brown eyes survey the room—until they settle on you.

With a slight nod of his head, he raises his champagne glass in a greeting before taking a sip. His gaze intensifies as it travels up your body. And just as you feel the heat of his gaze land on your eyes, Clara pulls you away.

“Come on, Alejandro’s outside,” she shouts over the band.

You follow her reluctantly, feeling the handsome stranger’s eyes on you as you move to the breath-taking veranda.

Clara squeals with delight as she spots Alejandro, she thrusts her drink in your hand before rushing over to plant a kiss on his cheek. You stay behind, feeling slightly out of place.

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of pine and salty sea air as Clara and Alejandro chat animatedly. You love Clara, she’s your closest friend in your college’s abroad program, but she’s much more of a social butterfly than you are… especially when it comes to men. 

You can already tell it’s going to be another night of you standing alone in a pretty dress while Clara has all of the fun. You guzzle down the rest of your champagne before starting on Clara’s flute.

The breeze chills your skin… someone really should have warned you about the chill that blows off the Mediterranean Sea in December. The velvet of your short, red dress does nothing to warm you. At least the party inside looks warm. 

"I’m going to get a refill,” you announce to the two lovebirds enamored with each other. swallowing down the rest of your champagne.

“Have fun!” Clara giggles as Alejandro nuzzles against her neck.

Weaving through all of the sequins and tuxedos, you spot a waiter and snag another flute of champagne, downing half of it in one gulp.

It’s too hectic in this fancy ballroom, Clara really got you with the promise of free booze. This mansion looks more like a castle… you wonder just how many rooms are in this place. Curiosity gets the best of you as you sneak off past the ballroom doors, your heels clicking against the polished marble floor of a long, dimly lit hallway. At the end of the hall, a door sits slightly ajar with a familiar song floating out of it. 

A cup of kindness that we share with anotherA sweet reunion with a friend or a brotherIn all the places you find love, it feels like Christmas

The familiar lyrics of “It Feels Like Christmas” beckons you toward the dark room.

You peek inside, of course this mega mansion has a home theatre. A lone person silhouetted by the screen sits on a plush couch at the front.

The person turns at the sound of your heels, your eyes adjust to the darkness, before realizing it’s the handsome man from earlier. His eyes widen slightly in recognition.

“I’m sorry, “ you stammer, suddenly feeling quite foolish. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I—the party was just a lot.”

He smiles warmly, the sadness in his eyes lifting slightly. “No—no need to apologize. Please, join if you’d like, I could use the company,” he says, his voice deep and accented. Of course his accent would be just as beautiful as him.

You make your way down the aisle before settling on the seat next to him. He sits up straighter, his jacket discarded and his tie loosened.

“A classic,” you quietly say.

He nods, his eyes fixed on the screen. “It’s mine and Nic’s favorite. We’d watch it every year after the party.” “Nic?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

He chuckles softly. “Nicolas Cage. He’s usually the life of this party, but this year he couldn't make it," he explains with a wistful tone in his voice.

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Nicolas Cage? As in, the actor? Like—as in Spider-Noir or ‘NOT THE BEEEEES!‘ Nic Cage?”

He nods, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Yes. He is one of my closest friends. This party just doesn’t feel the same without him.”

You’re stunned into silence, processing the surprise revelation. “He’s my favorite actor.”

“He’s mine too,” he says, turning to you, his eyes glistening with a wide smile across his face, you notice a deep dimple on his cheek. You can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to dip your tongue in the divot of it. “I’m Javi,” he says, extending his hand towards you.

You give him your name, shaking his hand. His large hand engulfs yours with a firm, warm grip.

“You certainly know how to throw a great party out there Javi.”

He nods with a hum of agreement.

“Did you want a drink?” he asks.

You nod, grateful for the offer. “That sounds lovely, thank you.” Javi stands, moving to a small bar tucked in the corner and pours two lowball glasses with amber liquid.

“I hope whiskey is alright,” he says, handing you one of the glasses.

You take a sip, the smoky flavor warming you from the inside out. "It's perfect," you reply, settling back into the plush seat.

As the movie plays on, you find yourself relaxing, the whiskey and Javi's presence melting away the awkwardness you felt earlier. Javi lights up a joint, and offers it to you, which you gratefully accept and take a hit.

Of course it’s good weed, so good, you have a bit of a coughing fit after your first inhale. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his hand coming up to rest on your back, running soothing lines up and down it. “Your dress is so soft.” 

His touch both heats and soothes your body, even more than the whiskey and weed.

His hand stays on your back, still running slightly up and down your dress as the two of you laugh at the antics of Gonzo and Rizzo, recite lines along with the Muppets, and hum softly to the familiar songs.

Javi seems to cheer up, his earlier melancholy fading as he laughs along with you and shares stories about watching it with Nic.

Rizzo and Gonzo disguise themselves as busts. 

“This is my favorite part,” you smile. 

You feel Javi’s eyes on you instead of the screen, his gaze intense, filled with something you can’t quite sense. You feel heat creep up your neck as you look at him.

"You have a beautiful smile,” he says softly.

You lean closer, he smells of sandalwood and citrus.

“I like your smile too,” you say, earning an adoring smile from him.

He moves his hand, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer, shocking you as you try to calm your now racing heart.

You steal glances of Javi throughout the movie, the soft glow from the screen lighting his profile. You follow the strong line of his jaw and the curve of his plush lips up to his sharp nose. 

Scrooge begins his transformation from miser to charitable hero, but you find it increasingly difficult to focus on the story. Javi’s fingers trace lazy circles on the bare skin of your arm, before they move to the nape of your neck, massaging the sensitive skin there.

You shift slightly in your seat, pressing closer to Javi and letting out a soft moan as his thumb brushes against your collarbone.

The liquor, his touch, and his handsome face drives you wild.

The credits roll, your heart drops as he pulls his arm away. He turns to you, his eyes dark. “This has been fun, thanks for keeping me company.”

His voice is deep, his big, brown eyes roam your face. Your mouth opens, your tongue darting out to lick your lips, trying to figure out what to say to keep him here with you. He leans in closer, his eyes flickering to your lips. His warm breath hits your skin, smelling of whiskey, weed, and mint.

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips meet yours.

His lips are soft, his kiss is sweet. He pulls you closer as his tongue traces the seam of your lips. You part your lips with a soft gasp, tasting the whiskey and peppermint that lingers on his tongue. His hand slides down your back, gripping your ass and scooting you into his lap. You eagerly climb atop him and moan into his mouth, your fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. 

He nips at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue, you return the favor earning a low growl from Javi that vibrates against your lips.

You part for air, both of you breathing heavily.

Javi rests his forehead against yours, his eyes dark as they meet yours. “Would you like to continue this evening—maybe somewhere more private?”

Your breath catches in your throat as you nod, unable to find the words. Javi stands, offering his hand to help you up. He leads you out of the theatre and through winding corridors, the sounds of the party grows fainter.

You ascend a grand staircase, your fingers intertwined with his. Ornate oil paintings and gilded mirrors line the walls. You can’t believe you’re doing this, but when a man who looks like Javi offers you a more private place to take you to, you say yes.

He stops before an intricately carved mahogany door, fishing a key from his pocket. The lock clicks open, and Javi ushers you inside with a gentle hand on the small of your back.

You gasp as you enter. The room is enormous, easily the size of your entire apartment. A massive four-poster bed dominates one wall, draped in rich fabric. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the moonlit ocean.

“Oh my god, Javi, this is gorgeous.”

He smiles warmly at you.

"You know, I wasn't sure I'd enjoy tonight at all. But you've made this evening so much brighter. Thank you for that." He steps closer, his hand cupping your cheek. "I'd like to show my appreciation, if you'll let me."

He leans in, his lips barely brushing yours. “How would you like to do that?” you whisper.

His brown eyes darken. "I want to taste you," he growls, his accent thicker with arousal.

You nod, unable to speak.

Javi starts to guide you towards the bed, but then pauses. "Oh, one moment," he says, moving to his dresser.

You watch, puzzled, as he gently turns around a stuffed Paddington Bear plush perched there. "Wouldn't want him to see," Javi explains with a playful wink.

You giggle as Javi’s hands slide to your waist. “Now where were we?” he asks, his hands sliding to your hips and pulling you flush against his body. His kiss makes you melt into him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

His hands find the zipper of your dress and slowly lowers it, the cool breeze from the windows hits your skin as the fabric pools at your feet. His warm palms slide up to trace the lace edge of your bra.

He guides you backwards until your legs hit the bed, he eases you down onto the silky sheets, your skin sliding easily as you scoot back, resting your head on the mountain of pillows as he crawls over you.

His lips trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. You arch into him as he lavishes attention on your collarbone, nipping and sucking. His stubble scratches deliciously against your sensitive skin.

He makes quick work of your bra clasp before he slowly peels the lace away, revealing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

A needy whimper escapes you as he takes one hardened peak into his mouth. His tongue swirls around your nipple as his hand kneads your other breast.

Carding your fingers through his soft, thick hair, you moan his name as he switches his attention to your other breast, worshipping it with the same dedication.

His lips continue their journey down your body, pressing feather-light kisses across your ribcage and stomach. Your hips buck involuntarily as he nips at the sensitive skin below your navel.

Javi hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties, looking up at you with a silent question in his eyes. You nod eagerly, lifting your hips to help him slide the lace down your legs.

He settles between your thighs, his hot breath fanning over your pussy already wet for him. You tremble as he places a tender kiss on your inner thigh.

"Relax, mi amor," Javi murmurs. "Let me take care of you."

Your head hits the pillow, a long groan escaping your lips when he first tastes you. He laps at you with long, broad strokes before sealing his mouth over your clit. Your fingers tangle in the silky sheets as he sucks and flicks his tongue in maddening patterns.

A thick finger slips inside you, his tongue on your clit and his finger pumping in and out already has your legs trembling.

Your back arches off the bed as Javi works you. His free hand grips your thigh, holding you steady as you begin to shake.

"Javi," you gasp, your voice breathy and desperate. "I'm so close."

He hums against you, before pulling away, his handsome face slick with your wet. He smiles his devilish smile.

“I love doing this, you taste so good.”

He stretches you with another finger and curls both up, as he slowly fucks you, slow and deliberate, dragging in and out, driving you crazy. 

With a long, deep swirl of his tongue, you cry out Javi's name. Your fingers and toes curl while your heart shatters against your chest. Your orgasm pulses through you, your body feels like it’s floating above the obviously expensive silk sheets. Javi gently swirls and laps his tongue all over your pulsing pussy until you become too sensitive.

“S-s-stop, t-too much, oh my god,” you stutter, your body quaking from his attention.

Javi chuckles against you before pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as you come down from your high. He moves back up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, imparting your taste against your lips.

His still-clothed body covers your naked body on his bed. Your fingers move clumsily, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, eager to feel his bare skin against yours.

He breaks the kiss, chuckling softly. “Patience, mi amor,” he whispers, sitting back on his haunches and unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. You watch, mesmerized, as he reveals his tanned, toned chest and plush belly. He tosses his shirt aside, your hands immediately run over his smooth skin, reveling in the way he twitches under your touch. Your hands run down to the waistband of his dress pants.

“Off,” you say, tugging at his belt. He chuckles, quickly unbuckling and removing his pants and boxers.

He’s gorgeous, your eyes widen as you take in the sight of him. His thick cock lays hard against his stomach, already leaking for you. Wrapping your hand around him and stroking him lightly, a groan escapes his lips, his hips bucking into your touch.

You want him in your mouth, you want to know what he tastes like. You sit up, pushing him onto his back. “I want to taste you too.”

He groans. “Yes, mi amor. Come here,” he says, pulling you to straddle his face in reverse.

Leaning forward and bracing yourself on his thick thighs, you lower your mouth to his cock and lick a long stripe up his wide shaft. He moans, the vibrations tickling against your folds as he begins to devour you.

He’s velvety smooth in your mouth, hard and musky. His hips twitching as you suck against his head before taking him down your throat.

Javi licks and sucks against your clit, his fingers sliding in and out of your pussy, earning moans around his cock. You relax your throat, taking him even deeper as his fingers pump faster inside you.

He grips your ass, kneading the flesh as he devours you. Your orgasm shows itself again, your core and body coiling tighter with each swirl of his tongue.

Javi’s cock twitches in your mouth as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks to suck him harder. His hips moving in shallow thrusts as he fucks your mouth.

“Close,” he grits as you cry around his cock, he slips his fingers out of you. His strong hands knead and spread your ass cheeks, exposing you fully to his hungry mouth. You gasp around his cock as his tongue draws a path from your pussy to your ass. His tongue circles your puckered hole before dipping inside. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before—and you’re doing it with a gorgeous man who you just met at his lavish Christmas party.

Javi groans, the vibrations traveling through you as he works you with his mouth. His tongue darts from your clit to your entrance to your ass in an unpredictable pattern that leaves you dizzy. You're trembling, teetering on the edge of bliss.

"Javi," you whimper against his cock.

He groans, his grip tightens on your ass as his tongue delves deeper, pushing you over the precipice. You cry out around his cock, your body shaking as your second orgasm crashes over you. You suck him harder, taking him all the way down to your throat, choking on his length.

The sensation proves too much for him. With a deep groan, he pulses and spills into your mouth. You swallow around him, savoring his taste as he rides out his climax.

Spent and sated, you roll off of him, collapsing onto the plush mattress. Javi gathers you in his arms, pressing tender kisses to your forehead as you both catch your breath.

“So, does it feel like Christmas now?” you ask, snuggling closer to him, relishing the heat of his bare skin against yours. The distant sounds of the party drift in through the windows.

“Mm, it does,” Javi rumbles, capturing your wandering hand and bringing it to his lips to place a kiss across your knuckles. 

[uispeccoll]

Voices from the Stacks

Ul'nigid'

Ul'nigid'is a moveable book by artist Rhiannon Skye Tafoya, created in 2019 at the Women’s Studio Workshop in Rosendale, New York. This is edition six of 44, signed by the artist.

The book can take on multiple forms and shapes, with an accordion pamphlet and movable walls made of woven paper. When fully unfolded and standing up, the book resembles a basket. It features five poems in English with accents in Cherokee syllabary. The poems are those of remembrance, healing, love, home, and heritage. The cover shows an illustration of the artist’s grandmother, and the title is printed in both English and Cherokee.

The piece draws on traditional Cherokee weaving techniques used for river-cane basket making, but with the artists own contemporary weaving design. Instead of white oak and rivercane, she uses handmade paper. In her artist’s statement, Tafoya explains that the weaving design “represents the energy of my indigenous lineage as well as the urge to break out of boxes that a colonized society puts my identity, culture, and art into.”

The book was made in honor of the artists maternal grandmother, Martha Reed-Bark, who was a Cherokee medicine-woman and basket weaver. The title Ul'nigid’, which translates to “strong,” embodies her resilience and spirit.

From the publisher: “Ul’nigid’ is a demonstration of love and remembrance, wherein each technical process portrays strength and delicacy, allowing the artist to communicate a contemporary indigenous voice with deep influences from her traditional grandmother.”

Rhiannon Skye Tafoya is a printmaker, weaver, digital designer, and book artist affiliated with the Eastern Band Cherokee and Santa Clara Pueblo tribes. She earned her Master of Fine Arts in print media from Pacific Northwest College of Art in Portland, Oregon, and her Bachelor of Fine Arts in printmaking and sculpture from the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, New Mexico. In her work, Tafoya seeks to share and preserve personal and familial stories, cultural knowledge, and the Cherokee language, while still paving her own journey through contemporary art.

Explore more artists’ books on InfoHawk+, the Book Arts Research Database, or visit us in person.  

-Anne M, Olson Graduate Research Assistant

[pupsmailbox]

AUTUMN ID PACK

NAMES︰ acer. acorn. acre. amber. apple. archer. arden. ash. asher. aspen. aster. auburn. august. augusta. augustus. autumn. autumna. autumnal. autumnelle. autumnessa. autumnette. autumni. autumnine. autumnus. bean. birch. blaire. bonfire. bramble. branch. briar. carmel. casper. cassia. cassiah. cedar. cerridwen. chai. chestnut. cider. cinna. clara. cocoa. cora. corn. cornucopia. cozy. crimson. crisp. crow. ellis. ember. equinox. eve. fall. fallelle. fallen. fallette. falline. fallon. faye. finn. flannel. foggy. forest. forrest. ginger. glenna. goldie. halloween. harper. harvest. harveste. harvester. hawk. hay. hazel. hollis. hunter. jora. juniper. kaziah. keziah. latte. leaf. libra. lief. lilith. linden. luna. maize. maple. marigold. marley. marlow. maze. melanie. mocha. moss. november. nutmeg. oak. oakley. october. opal. orchard. orla. pansy. pie. pine. piper. poe. pumpkin. raine. raven. redd. rory. roslyn. rowan. russet. ruston. sabrina. saffron. scarecrow. september. sienna. sorrel. sullivan. sylvia. tamsin. teresa. tessa. wesley. willow.

PRONOUNS︰ amber/amber. apple/apple. au/autumn. aug/august. august/august. autumn/autumn. branch/branch. brew/brew. cider/cider. cloud/cloud. co/cozy. cocoa/cocoa. cof/coffee. corn/corn. cot/cottage. cozy/cozy. crow/crow. drift/drift. drizzle/drizzle. fa/fall. fall/fall. flannel/flannel. glisten/glisten. glow/glow. gold/gold. hallo/ween. hallow/halloween. halloween/halloween. haze/haze. hazel/hazel. hug/hug. jacko/lantern. lea/leaf. leaf/leaf. maple/maple. maze/maze. mellow/mellow. moss/moss. oct/october. october/october. orange/orange. pie/pie. plush/plush. pump/kin. pump/pumpkin. pumpkin/pie. pumpkin/pumpkin. rain/rain. raven/raven. red/red. sca/scarf. sept/september. september/september. sip/sip. snug/snug. snuggle/snuggle. soft/soft. soothe/soothe. spice/spice. sweater/sweater. swirl/swirl. syrup/syrup. thanks/giving. tick/treat. treat/treat. trick/trick. tuck/tuck. wa/warm. warm/warm. whiff/whiff. whisk/whisk. wrap/wrap. yellow/yellow. 🌽. 🍁. 🍂. 🍄. 🍎. 🎃. 🕯️. 🥧. 🧣. 🧶.

[vintagelasvegas]

Ranch home of Rex & Clara (Bow) Bell near Las Vegas Nevada. Oakes 237. – Walking Box Ranch c. 1933. Postcard by Oakes Vegas Studio.

[knifedancer]

Unsigned Gifts

Marinette has a secret admirer that keeps giving her really thoughtful gifts with no signature. But who is it?

OR

The five times Marinette received unsigned gifts and the one time she guessed who all the gifts were from.

AO3 Link

~~~First~~~

It all started one day when Lila and her lackeys broke her favorite marking pens. Not that she had any proof, except for the cruel light in Lila’s eyes and the way certain classmates weren’t meeting her eye – and hiding their hands in their laps – as she discovered the mess near the back of the classroom. Marinette had returned to the classroom after lunch and found the set of marking pens that her grandmother given her snapped in half, their vibrant inks smeared into a grotesque brown all over her desk surface. Luckily it wasn’t the whole set, but her favorite colors were in her bookbag for work on a commission�� The bluenette hid her glistening eyes, not allowing a single tear to escape, as she began to wipe what she could from the desk. Her only response a silent nod when Madam Bustier, whom assumed it was not caused by someone else, told her that she needed to stay after school to make sure it was properly clean.

Honestly, she was glad to be alone after the last bell rang. The room was empty and silent except for the ticking clock on the wall. It gave her some private moments to let out those tears that she kept hidden – she would never let anyone see her cry from their bullying attempts – while she mindlessly went through the movements of scrubbing the tabletop. The gentle rasping sounds of the cloth against a hard surface and the familiar circular motions, long ingrained from cleaning parts of the bakery, gave the pigtailed girl a sense of Zen. It was oddly calming for all the emotions she had bottled up inside her earlier; at least she would not be visited by an akuma today. When she was finally done, she gathered up the empty cleanser bottle, dirty rags, and mangled pens to dump in the garbage near the teacher’s desk. Marinette gave one last sorrowful look at the pens, recalling all of the designs she had illustrated with them and the joy she had felt receiving them from Grandma Gina… On the bright side, they had not found her precious sketchpad to ruin. The designer wiped her damp cheeks with her jacket sleeve before dropping the pens into the can with a sigh. She trudged out of the class and down the steps, completely missing a pair of calculating eyes that watched her from the shadows…

~~

At the end of the next day, Marinette found a brand-new set of expensive Copic Marking Pens and five Bosco Wood pencils tucked into a simple pink ribbon bow on top in her locker, no note was attached. She looked around, feeling eyes watching her but not seeing anyone standing out in the crowd of random students gathering their things and chatting with friends. She reverently touched the beautiful clear case and hugged it to her chest, a small genuine smile gracing her features as she imagined all the stunning designs she would make, before tucking them safely into her bookbag. Perhaps one of her classmates felt bad for what happened and wanted to remain anonymous for fear of Lila? Whatever the case, these would be safer in her room.

~~~Second~~~

A few days later, Marinette sat at one of the tables in the library during lunch, off in her own world with her headphones playing the latest Jagged Stone single just loud enough for her to block out any passing sounds but low enough not to disturb others. She found it easier to focus on her work not surrounded by her former friends and the kindly librarian allowed her to eat at the tables so long as she didn’t make a mess. Today the designer was working on a dress for Clara Nightingale’s next award show appearance. The overall look was done but the colors… She tapped the end of her new oak pencil against her lips as she contemplated. The margins on the page were filled with tiny smudges of carefully erased notes. She pulled out her phone, looking through various Pantone color chip options through Qwant. Unfortunately, like with all electronics, the inherent settings and hardware capabilities altered the tones just slightly – making the decision even harder.

“I wish I could afford those Pantone Color chips…it would make it so much easier to choose,” Marinette murmured to herself with a sigh. “Perhaps I can buy one with the money Maman’s family will send me for New Year but that’s still months away...”

The five-minute warning bell signifying the end of lunch rang, pulling her from her thoughts. The girl packed her sketchbook and headphones away before sweeping any remaining crumbs and rubber shavings into her empty lunch containers, then headed off to class without a second thought to the other students meandering through the book stacks or lining up to check out something last minute. Her mind was elsewhere, dreaming of which colors would combine best to fit Clara’s style and still wow people on the red carpet, when she knocked into something solid. Marinette’s elbow was caught in a firm grip before she fell backward, finding herself hauled up against a familiar grey vest.

“Hello Angel, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” came the smug voice of the other blond boy in her class. Just great. She righted herself with a scoff, rolling her eyes at his ridiculous pick-up line while brushing imaginary wrinkles from her blazer. She knew he was only doing it to get a rise out of her but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of losing her temper.

“Not as much as when they kicked you out of hell, Felix,” she replied sweetly as she pulled away.

“Are you saying I’m hot?” he asked with a predatory grin.

“You’re about as hot as a dumpster on fire and only half as pleasant!” Marinette sing-songed before quickly brushing by him and walked back towards class, missing the playful look on his face as he followed her at a respectable distance. She settled into her seat with a huff, zoning out while Madam Bustier droned on about the Revolution, the girl’s mind lost in the details for Clara’s dress once again.

~~

The next gift unexpectedly appeared at lunch the next day. The librarian called her over and presented a small parcel wrapped in pink striped paper. “This is for you, dear.”

“What? Who…,” began the confused bluenette. She spied a small, unsigned tag with her name on it taped to the top. The tag itself was not handwritten, instead seemed to have been made on a typewriter. Who, besides her Grandpa Roland, even owned one of those anymore?

“Sorry but I don’t have any idea. It was left here with just your name printed on the card while I was busy with a phone call. Seems you have an admirer, dear!” chuckled the librarian as she patted the girl on the shoulder, then went back to sorting a stack of returns for reshelving.

Marinette settled the parcel on her usual table, carefully unwrapping to preserve the lovely paper for another of her crafting projects. She pulled off the lid of the plain white box and unfolded the tissue paper inside – her breath caught in her throat. Inside were four Pantone Color Guide fans for fashion and home design, each with 350 different swatches, in every shade of the rainbow. Her fingers trembled as she lifted one from the safety of its tissue bed, fanning it open with a look of awe. Who had done this? First the pens, now this… She was overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude, her face lighting up with palpable joy as her mind buzzed with questions and plans.

‘I need to take these home, immediately!’ she thought, returning the Pantone guide back to the same spot she had pulled it from. She closed the box and pressed it to her chest as she quickly departed from the library, barely preventing herself from bumping into a student that was about to depart through the doorway. She threw a quick “sorry!” over her shoulder as she ran, only catching a blur of gold hair in her periphery as she exited the school.

~~~Third~~~

A couple weeks later, after the commission for Clara was done, Marinette found herself with some free time on the weekend. Time to find a nice spot to draw! She had planned to wander through the park near her house, but discovered Adrien was doing a photoshoot with Lila. She rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something rotten.  Not that she didn’t still enjoy watching Adrien’s photoshoots – on the contrary, it was fun to see the modeling process and clothes – but the motivation had changed. She had found her feelings for the model fading as time went on; eventually she accepted that it was a temporary obsession rather than love that she felt. Being around him wasn’t as awkward as she expected but she preferred to avoid being around Lila – which meant not hanging out with Adrien as much as he was constantly around her due to his father’s wishes.

She hummed softly and turned on her heel, deciding to seek out another spot that might inspire her. The pigtailed girl wandered along the Siene, giving a friendly wave to Andre the ice cream vendor as she passed and enjoying the light breeze against her cheeks. She decided her time would be best spent at the Luxembourg Gardens – it had been a while since she had visited. Marinette took a deep breath as she meandered along the sunlight paths, surrounded by trees and flowers, the calming effect of the garden and architecture washing over the secret bug-themed heroine with each step. She found a bench near one of the buildings that caught her eye, settling down with one of her drawing pencils and losing herself to the sketching of various designs that began to form in her head. A few gowns inspired by flowers and the stream nearby, jackets and hats noted with colors of the various leaves overhead, but what appeared the most on the pages were men’s three-piece suits with embroidered vests… Marinette paused, gazing at the newest vest she had drawn. Deep twilight blue, bordering on black; with barely imperceptible golden and green abstract detailing that was vaguely reminiscent of peacock feathers.

It reminded her of Felix for some reason – not just the vest itself but the stylization she had added. She glanced up to the building again, taking in the architecture with a discerning gaze. It and part of the surrounding garden was of English design, merging in with the French touches seamlessly. Adrien’s cousin was from London, perhaps that was why it reminded her so much of him… She dropped her gaze back down to the page, her eyes widening as she realized she was unconsciously doodling Felix’s face and shoulders into the vest she had created. It was rough but the sketch – hair, jawline, and the beginning curve of a grin – was distinctively him. Marinette’s cheeks pinked at the realization, hurriedly attempted to flip the page only to discover it was the last sheet. Her book would need to be replaced!

“Well,” she said as she closed and halfheartedly tucked the pad away, “looks like I’ll have to buy a new sketch pad with my allowance next Friday.” With one last look at the beautiful garden around her, she began her journey home through the afternoon crowds. Marinette failed to hear the soft plop behind her as her sketchpad fell from her bag until she was back in her room. She returned to search for it with no luck, lamenting the loss of her work but hopeful that her luck – Tikki’s really – might just bring it back to her. After all, this was why she always wrote her name and address on the inside cover. Someone must have found it and would turn it in!

At school the following Monday and Tuesday, she relegated herself to making little doodles on her notebook’s lined paper. Nothing too serious or professional – little flowers and birds that she remembered seeing at the Luxembourg Gardens, black cats chasing peacocks through a field of flowers, ladybugs on leaves cleaning their antennae or snoozing in a pollen covered pistil bed... She didn’t want to waste a great design on paper that was too thin to accept her bold pencil strokes, not to mention whatever was left would not withstand the colored marker ink without becoming an oversaturated, soggy mess. At one point Marinette caught Felix staring over her shoulder at her drawings during free period; she was so taken aback that she was at a loss for words as his green eyes met hers.

 He propped his elbow on the desk and casually rested his chin in the palm of his hand, his trademark smirk spreading across his face. “Like what you see, Princess? Take a picture, it will last longer.”

Marinette gasped at the audacity and turned away, “No, you simply reminded me of a ‘before’ picture I saw on the TV the other day.”

“Give me a chance and I’ll do more than make you gasp,” he replied close to her ear.

“I’d slap you, but I don’t want to accidentally make your face look any better,” she murmured sweetly, her eyes alight with playful mockery as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. A tingle went up her spine as his breath tickled her ear and they seemed frozen as their gazes met, the moment only being broken by the bell. Without turning her head any further, she heard him chuckle with mirth as he sat back in his seat.

By the end of class on Tuesday, she returned home to find a thick envelope tucked into the mail slot beside their apartment entry in the alleyway. She pulled it out and found yet another typed tag on the front addressed to her. Not wanting to wait a moment longer, she ripped it open right there on the doorstep. She cried with joy when she saw the contents! Inside was her lost sketchpad tied to a brand new one, its cover a pale pink and covered in plum blossoms and irises. Marinette looked up and down the alleyway, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person that had left the envelope, but no one was there. Did she really have an admirer? She blushed as her hand traced the pattern on the cover idly. Whomever they were, they didn’t waste time with cliché gestures of flowers and chocolates… Instead, they seemed very attentive to her likes and hobbies. Every gift was centered around her designing but still found a way to incorporate a personalized touch. She had never felt so special or seen before. A warmth blossomed in her chest at the thoughtfulness this mysterious figure had shown her; this feeling leaving her floating through the rest of the week as if on cloud nine.

~~~Fourth~~~

On Thursday, Marinette sat at her table after lunch and felt something bump against her knee unexpectedly. She shifted and felt something small fall onto her knees. Trying not to look distracted in class, she brought it into her lap proper and held back a squeal as she caught a glimpse of pink striped paper. They must have stuck it to the underside of the table to avoid someone else finding it. The pigtailed girl slowly opened the wrapping, careful to keep it as silent as possible, to reveal a spool of delicate lace edging in a creamy white. She contemplated uses for it and decided she had plenty left over for a little display of appreciation…

Friday morning, she checked herself in the mirror one last time and received the nub’s up from Tikki. Marinette made her way to school and happily skipped up the steps, ignoring the looks she received – didn’t matter to her if they were in envy, anger, or judgement. Let them look! The designer had raised her hair into her Multimouse space buns but pinned small segments of lace around the base of each, giving her a Chun-Li look with her usual red ribbons trailing from each bun. She had paired the look with a red qipao top with a peplum hem, which flared slightly at her hips, over tailored black pants. She had also exchanged her usual pink purse with one covered in upcycled cream colored doilies.

Surprisingly she entered the class with a couple minutes to spare, nearly stumbling into the two blond cousins conversing at the front table. Adrien was the first to see her, his eyes slipping up to her hair as his smile turned warm and fond. “Hey Marinette! I love the new look; did you design it yourself?”

“Hey Adrien! Yeah, just haven’t had the chance to wear it before now. Felt like wearing something new today,” the designer smiled in return, giving him a little twirl. In the meantime, Felix had turned around and standing eerily silent as he stared at her. She could have sworn his ears had turned slightly pink when he finally glanced at her hair. “Cat got your tongue, Felix?” Marinette asked cheekily.

He cleared his throat before he replied. “Can I take your picture so I can show Père Noël what I want for Christmas?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, “Don’t you know? Only good kids get presents, I’m afraid you won’t qualify.”

“Well, if I must be a Grinch, then I’d rather steal you instead,” Felix stated with a grin.

She leaned in close and dropped her voice low, her eyes taking on a dangerous glint. “I guess I should add ‘body bag’ on my list this year then, because it sounds like you’ll end up in one.” The boy seemed temporarily speechless, so she smirked with victory and headed back to her seat. Vaguely she could hear the imperceptible murmurings of the two blonds get cut off by the bell as she settled in.

Marinette felt – and ignored – Felix’s stare on the back of her head the rest of the day. If she had turned around for even a moment, she likely would have seen the rouged complexion that he was unable to tame in her presence.

~~~Fifth~~~

A week later, after a long day dodging Lila’s machinations and having to stay late to handle Class Representative tasks, Marinette was relieved to find the locker room empty. She mentally ran through the list of books she would need to complete her homework and opened the lock, the door immediately falling open due to an unbalanced package within. Her heart leaped into her chest as she took in the memorable pink stripped paper. The bluenette sat on the bench and brought the package into her lap, noting that it felt soft under the crinkling exterior. Just as she did with the Pantone Guides, she carefully removed the paper. As the last of the tape was peeled and the boundary fell away to reveal the contents, Marinette audibly gasped. There in her lap lay the most beautiful silk she had ever seen, the same shade as the vest she had sketched at the gardens!

She blushed as she thought of the drawing and the image of Felix wearing it in her mind’s eye. She shook her head to free herself from such thoughts. Knowing him, he’d probably think her designs were not worthy enough to be worn. The designer brushed her hand over the material adoringly, unfolding the fabric slightly to gauge the length. There was enough to make a few vests or a skirt or a cocktail dress… Her fingers found a card hidden within the folds and pulled it free. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she read it. Printed in the same font as the others, it simply said:

The vest will only be half as beautiful as you.

~~~Plus One~~~

Marinette spent the next few days sewing the vest and adding the detailing. It now hung on her mannequin as pictured in her sketchpad but…it didn’t feel right. Incomplete. She trudged through school, distracted by the design and what it seemed to be missing. Even Tikki couldn’t calm her or help in any way. The girl wasn’t even sure why she was so focused on it! It wasn’t like she had a way to deliver it to her admirer… she had no way to tell if it would fit him either!

The girl was so unfocused all morning that, when it finally came to be lunch time, she tripped over something on the ground unexpectedly. She groaned from the floor as she brushed her knees off and sought out what item might have caused her fall. In the middle of the walkway was a nondescript black pencil case and – if the solidness she felt through the toe of her flat was any indication – it was full of writing utensils. Marinette grabbed it as she stood up, searching for a tag or name on it to figure out whom to return it to. Nothing was on the outside except for the zipper and a smudge of dirt in the shape of her shoe print. She unzipped it and peered inside, digging her fingers around to loosen the contents. She must have jostled something too hard because pens and pencils popped from the opening and spilled onto the floor.

“Damnit, Marinette…you’re such a klutz,” she muttered as she crouched back down to collect the items, hoping nothing was damaged. She knew how important good pens were. She smiled warmly as she looked at the case, remembering the pens and pencils she had received in her first gift from her admirer…

Just then a pencil caught her eye and she froze; it couldn’t be… As if afraid it was just one of Trixx’s mirages that would evaporate when touched, she reached out slowly and picked it up. There in her hand was a Bosco pencil, exact matches to the ones she had received. Looking around the semi-busy walkway, she quickly gathered up the rest and ran down an empty hall to the supply closet she sometimes used to transform during an akuma attack. The designer knew these came as a matching set of ten and had thought it was odd that she only received five…assuming whomever the giver was that they may have kept the others. She didn’t blame them; these were expensive pencils! She pulled her own pink case out and extracted one of the Bosco pencils to compare it against.

The serial numbers matched.

Marinette gasped and fell to her knees on the floor of the closet, staring at the zippered pouch in shock. “This is…this is my admirer’s case.” She sat dumbfounded for a moment before springing back into action to search for any name that might give away their identity. However, even after emptying it of all further contents, there wasn’t a single thing with initials or contact information. The girl groaned in frustration before carefully replacing the contents and cleaning the dirt from the outside. “I’ll bring it to the office, perhaps they will report it missing to Lost & Found. They brought me back my sketchpad, it’s only fair to find a way to bring this back to them too.”

The designer opened the door and stepped back out into the hall, keeping the case snuggly held against her stomach like a precious artifact, then made her way towards the front office. As she approached, she caught a familiar voice drifting from the open doorway and into the hall, a voice that no longer held the same haughty tone but one filled with anxiety and concern.

“It’s all black with a zipper down the side. Contains several wood drawing pencils and pens which mean a lot to me. Felix Fathom, 01-XX-XX-XXXX. Did you get that?” He paused and she could hear the dulcet voice of their receptionist responding the affirmative. “Thank you. You’ll call me if you find it?” She didn’t wait to hear the answer, instead she ducked into a bathroom nearby and stared at the case as if it had grown legs.

‘Felix is my admirer…he gave me the gifts…this is his case…’ Her mind whirled as it connected the dots. All the times he had shown interest in her drawings and hobbies without calling attention to himself, the times they had bumped into each other in the library or the hallway, the pick-up lines and terms of endearment taking on a whole new meaning as she blushed… He had been there on the cusp of her periphery and paid more attention to her interests than she ever thought he might. And he sounded so worried about losing this case, which contained the matching ones to her set. Then a knowing grin crossed her face – the note cards! She recalled Adrien once mentioning that Felix’s father used to type all of his movie scripts on a typewriter. ‘He did all this…for me?’ Her heart swelled with warmth.

With a flash of brilliance, Marinette suddenly knew just how to finish her design!

But first, she needed to drop the pen pouch off at the front office.

~~

Marinette arrived early the next day and took her usual seat in the empty classroom, deciding to doodle as she waited for others to arrive. Well, one person in particular. Her nerves tingled with the impending confrontation. What if she was wrong? What if he did this as some sick joke? No. She and Tikki had talked through all those issues last night as she hand embroidered the lining with ladybugs flitting between Tudor Roses. It was folded and wrapped in her lap, covered by her jacket.

She heard the sound of his footfall in the hallway and held her breath, forcing her eyes to remain on the paper pad in front of her as she heard those footsteps falter at the doorway. Within a few moments, they restarted and walked up the aisle towards his desk before pausing next to hers. Marinette looked up and met his eyes, noticing he had already dropped his bookbag onto the ground next to his desk on the tier above hers. They were all alone, this was her chance!

“You’re here early, finally decided to be a good example, Miss Class Rep?” Damn him and that smirk!

“On the contrary, I had an important appointment to make this morning.” In one fluid movement she stood, unfolded the vest, and draped it around his shoulders like a cape before he could react.

His eyes widened as he looked down at the material swathed around his torso in awe, his eyes taking on a nervous shadow as they rose once again to her face, “You… How did…”

“You know what that’s made of don’t you?” Marinette’s voice took on a serious tone as if lecturing a student. Her fingers gently fiddled with an edge near his shoulder, pretending to assess the fabric before tucking it beneath his shirt collar. His eyes became searching, but he didn’t reply, his lips parted as if too stunned or unsure to answer.

The pigtailed girl leaned in close to his lips and whispered, “Boyfriend material.” Then closed the distance to seal it with a kiss.

~~~Author's Notes: Do I sound like I am an artist knowing these things? Because I'm not. I just research A LOT when I write. 😅

[helenablogsworld]

Shadows Over Maple Lane

The streetlights flickered as dusk settled over Maple Lane, casting long, eerie shadows across the suburban cul-de-sac. It had always been a quiet street, one where the sound of children’s laughter filled the air and neighbors exchanged pleasantries over white picket fences. But lately, there was a lingering sense of unease, a chill that clung to the air even in the warmth of summer.

Clara moved into the neighborhood only a few months ago, lured by the promise of peace. Her new house, with its ivy-clad brick walls and large bay windows, seemed charming enough, but something about it always felt...off. The air inside was stale, as if it had been holding its breath for too long, waiting for something to happen.

It wasn’t long before Clara noticed the oddities. The way the shadows in her home seemed to stretch unnaturally long at twilight, or how whispers, faint and unintelligible, drifted through the halls when she was alone. At first, she dismissed them as nothing more than creaks of an old house settling. But the strange occurrences escalated after she found an old letter tucked inside a loose floorboard under her bed.

The letter, written in elegant handwriting, told the story of a love affair between a young woman named Elise and a professor at a nearby college. Their love, though passionate, was forbidden. Elise’s father, a man of wealth and power, discovered their affair and forced the professor into hiding. The lovers planned to meet in secret one last time under the old oak tree in the backyard—an oak tree that still stood behind Clara’s house. But the letter ended abruptly, leaving Clara to wonder what happened to them.

Curiosity gnawed at her, and one night, she found herself standing beneath that ancient oak, the shadows of its gnarled branches stretching across the lawn. That’s when she saw it—a figure, faint but unmistakable, standing at the edge of the yard. The man’s silhouette was sharp against the dying light, and though she couldn’t make out his face, she felt his eyes on her.

Each night after, the figure appeared again, always standing just beyond her reach. It wasn’t long before Clara began hearing Elise’s name whispered in the wind, and the scent of roses—Elise’s favorite—filled the air.

Determined to uncover the truth, Clara sought out the history of the house and learned the grim reality. Elise never left that meeting under the oak tree. Her lover had waited, but she had been found first—by her father. Her life was cut short beneath those very branches, and her story buried along with her.

The shadows on Maple Lane grew darker after that revelation. Clara could feel the presence of something—someone—watching her, waiting for her to act. She realized then what the whispers were asking of her: Elise’s story needed an ending.

On a stormy autumn night, Clara returned to the oak tree, a bouquet of roses in hand. As the rain fell in torrents and lightning illuminated the sky, she laid the flowers at the base of the tree, whispering Elise’s name one final time. A gust of wind swept through the yard, and for a brief moment, Clara saw them—Elise and her professor, standing together beneath the oak, their faces no longer filled with sorrow but with peace.

As the storm passed, so did the shadows over Maple Lane. But in the quiet, Clara couldn’t shake the feeling that something—perhaps someone—still lingered in the house, forever grateful that their love, at last, had found its conclusion.

[peachdues]

Peach, I know you’re the queen of fragrances and I need some help bc I’ve absolutely fallen for the Pengaligon’s Clandestine Clara that I got in a sample but a bottle it $315 dollars 😭 I’m not a perfume girlie but it’s literally the only perfume I’ve ever liked the smell of on me and I’ve been literally OBSESSED with it and I ran out of the sample MONTHS ago. Do you have any suggestions for a cheaper dupe or something that is similar?

A PENHALIGON LOVER?? AFTER MY OWN HEART??

God, I LOVE the penhaligon perfumes — the scents and bottle designs are utterly exquisite. The price point, however…not so much 😭 one day I will splurge, though!

Clandestine Clara is a wonderfully warm and spicy gourmand, and those are having quite the moment on the perfume market! Lucky for you, that means there are tons of options!

First, let’s break down the main notes in Clandestine Clara so you know what to keep an eye out for:

Top note: rum

Middle note: tonka bean

Base note: oppoponax (AKA sweet myrrh/resin)

Pretty straightforward, and utterly gorgeous. Mainly, you want to keep an eye out for spicy, boozy gourmands with a good dose of vanilla.

Here are some good dupes!

Divain 692 — this is a direct dupe of Clandestine Clara. Probably the closest you’ll get to the exact scent profile and it has decent longevity!

Top notes: rum and vanilla

Middle notes: cinnamon and musk

Base notes: amber and patchouli.

The rest of these are Clandestine Clara adjacent — meaning they share many of the same key notes, but combine them with others in a way that makes them not quite a dupe, but still remain safely within that spicy/boozy gourmand family. I’ll bold the overlapping notes!

Killian Paris — angel’s share

Key notes: cognac, tonka bean, and oakwood. Other notes include cinnamon, sandalwood, praline, and vanilla.

Memoirs of a trespasser — imaginary authors

Y’all should know by now that I’m a HUGE fan of imaginary authors. This one is a gorgeous spicy gourmand.

Key notes: Madagascar Vanilla, Guaiac Wood, Myrrh, Benzoin, Ambrette Seed, Oak (benzoin and oppoponax are very similar!)

Lush — turmeric latte

THIS ONEEEE. Smells like a spiced cookie.

Key notes: benzoin, tonka, vanilla, cinnamon

Note that if you want to make this extra sweet (and more akin to Clandestine Clara), I’d recommend layering this with either the sticky dates body lotion OR body spray!

DS & Durga — deep dark vanilla

Okay so this one is more expensive BUT in case you want to splurge OR want something with a little more complexity, I figured I’d throw it in!

Key notes: Cabrueva, Orchid, Pink Pepper, Vines, Green Vanilla Leaves, Cypress Root, Vanilla Absolute (will smell similar to tonka), Dark Patchouli, Hay

Demeter fragrance library — cardamom

This is straight cardamom which is the perfect warm spice.

I hope this is helpful!! Stay gorgeous!!

[purpleillusn]

Holiday truce gift for @dp-marvel94, using the post-AGIT Dan adjusting to being half human and a teenager again. I hope you like it and happy (belated) holidays!!:

Second Chances and the Complications Therein

AO3 link

The uniform was horrible, in Dan’s humble opinion, itchy and constrictive against his unpleasantly mortal skin. Unfortunately, his grievances had been dismissed by Vlad, who insisted smugly that it was the best high school he could get Dan into (no doubt with an absurd sum of money). Dan would certainly admit that it looked pricey from its ornate front gates, looking up at its towering Georgian architecture and name “St. Thomas’ School” emblazoned across its billboard sign.. Looking over his shoulder, Dan could very clearly see Vlad loitering in his very conspicuous, expensive car. He scoffed and made his way into the building, stopping by the reception to pick up his timetable. The corridors felt far too large, with high ceilings exaggerated by his current short stature and feeling oddly sparse with teenagers compared to Dan’s vague memories of Casper High. There was at least some normalcy in how the place had the musty smell with notes of BO and aftershave typical of any other high school, even if Dan didn’t particularly appreciate it.

He slunk into his home classroom, leaning by the wall at the front to observe the room. The room had surprisingly few seats - around twenty, half of which were occupied by students in the same stupid uniform as Dan’s, complete with blazers. Dan had, of course, already known he would be attending a private school, but it still felt unreal. The teens were giving him curious glances as they continued to file in and to their predetermined seats, but Dan tried his best to ignore it, only scowling in response. The walls had the usual posters across them with history facts and study tips and sets of drawers containing all sorts of books and stationary.

The teacher entered, giving Dan a visual once over before standing in front of the white board. “Good morning everybody,” she announced, being met with a half-hearted chorus of ‘good mornings’ in return. The teacher then turned the spotlight to Dan, much to his chagrin - his unpleasantly present heart pounding in his chest. Of course, he kept his cool: what kind of powerful ghost shows fear? Not him, that’s for sure. The teacher introduced him to the class, who he greeted as was expected of him, and sent him to his seat on the left side of the room, comfortably near the back and with a clear view out the large windows. Dan certainly wouldn’t complain about being out of the way of most people’s attention…or so he’d hoped, as after homeroom settled down into gentle chatter he found himself being pestered by the girl in the seat to his right. “Hey, my name’s Clara,” she said, ignoring Dan’s lack of enthusiasm. “Kinda generic, but welcome to the school.” “Thanks,” Dan replied with zero enthusiasm, pointedly not looking at the polite smile on her pasty, freckled face. “So, did your family move or something?” Clara asked, and, god, her enthusiasm was frustrating. “We had someone join mid last year and no-one gave him any trouble, so I’m sure you’ll settle in well.” “Yeah.” Dan refused to elaborate.

He had to field a few more questions and friendliness throughout his morning lessons, from a variety of students or varying authenticity and enthusiasm. Dan thankfully had no difficulty with following the class (something he did plan on being insufferably smug about to Danny later), and was soon able to escape the teenage horde in his lunch break. Settling down with his lunch tray in the shade of an old oak, Dan paid no mind to the cold of late November, relishing in the quiet. And, once again, it just wouldn’t last, with Clara heading over despite his glare. “Do you want to sit with me? It’s gotta be pretty lonely to sit out here by yourself.” “No, I’m fine here, thanks.” “If you’re sure. The seat’s always open.” Dan grunted in what could be interpreted as dismissal or acceptance, depending on how much someone ignored his blatant antisocial behavior. At last, she left him to his peace and quiet, but, oddly, some part of him resented the loneliness. He should have been used to it, what with the decade he’d spent with far worse, yet he felt somewhat…sad? Human emotion, he supposed.

The lunch waned, as all breaks in life do, into the next lesson periods, where Dan had an English Literature class in which he was able to comfortably keep his head down and get on with his work, only getting called upon once by the teacher. But alas, good things don’t last, and he had a chemistry practical next, wherein the teacher dictated that they must work in pairs. Dan got on with his health and safety assessment while waiting for the rest to find their own pairs until a remainder made itself known (or didn’t, he didn’t care). This should have run smoothly. “I guess we’re lab partners then,” announced a familiar voice. “I guess,” Dan said, scraping his chair while standing up. “I’m surprised you couldn’t find a partner with how friendly you are.” “Oh, I’m a bit of an…odd one out,” Clara explained, followed by a nervous attempt at a chuckle. “It’s just one of those things, y’know.” Dan set up the test tube rack while she spoke, not looking up at her while neatly placing the tubes in their holder. “I suppose. Still don’t know why you have to work with me.” “Well, I wanted to, but also, well, it’s not a secret that I’m here on scholarship,” she shrugged sheepishly. Dan nodded as neutrally as he could manage. “They’re judging you for not being from a wealthy family?” Clara confirmed as much and Dan did his best to restrain his anger. “They can go screw themselves then.” And surprising himself: “I’ll be your damn friend.” “Thank you,” she murmured, to which Dan grunted. Last thing he needed to do now was screw this up, so kept from any personal topics for the rest of the practical (dissolving stuff in acid was thankfully something they could agree was fun in and of itself). Such went his final period of the day, after which Dan wished Clara well and cleared off, switching into his ghost form for a very much appreciated flight to let off steam. And if he shot a few ectoblasts into the edge of the atmosphere, no-one was there to tell him off.

The horizon gave way to Vlad’s mansion, which Dan homed in on, swooping down intangibly through the wall and into his room. It was tidy in an unhomely manner, with everything ordered on shelves and in drawers. Even his bedding didn’t get to stay ruffled for long with Vlad’s cleaners. Tossing his backpack to the ground, Dan flopped onto his bed to stare at the ceiling a bit before getting on with his homework. He had some time before dinner, so got on with what little homework he got during the day. The work was easy, in his opinion, so he steamrolled through it without issue. His phone dinged while midway through his summary of the experiment done in chemistry and he glanced over at it, seeing it was a text from Danny: “How was school?” “Fine,” Dan quickly sent back, followed quickly by a second text. “Annoying, but not the worst.” His phone went off again with another message from his younger half: “Usual then :) I’m sure you’ll make friends soon dw.” Dan groaned. “Sure.” What a goody-goody twerp, he thought only half-jokingly. Thankfully his phone stayed silent while he finished up his work and pondered which book he wanted to pick off his bookshelf after having finished his last one the night prior. He picked off a sci-fi book he’d got on a whim and sat down to read away the rest of the time until dinner.

The grandfather clock on the landing chimed six, echoing through the house. Dan placed his book down on the corner of his desk, with a scrap of paper bookmarking it in the middle of a chapter, and made his way downstairs to the dining hall. Vlad waited at the head of the table and Dan sat opposite, keeping his eyes down to avoid staring down the space between them. Vlad, of course, asked about his first day at school. Dan shrugged. “It’s embarrassing, having to go back there as a grown-ass adult. I didn’t realise just how annoying teenagers are.” “Well,” Vlad began. “You never got to grow up properly, so this is a good second chance.” Oh, this old man was trying. “I guess,” Dan scoffed. “It’s still demeaning.” “You don’t think you deserve it,” Vlad stated, cutting into the expensive steak delivered by his butler. Dan scraped his knife across the plate in just the right way to piss Vlad off, although the old man kept his downturned mouth shut. It was a stilted affair, with few words exchanged afterwards - even less from Dan. When Dan finished eating first, he excused himself politely and cleared off to his room again.

• • •

Dan rolled out of bed in the morning to grab coffee as his first thing. Vlad might not like it, but Dan wasn’t a morning person and this was how he functioned. Coffee and a modest breakfast consumed, Dan climbed into one of Vlad’s car fleet (the same as the day prior) for a lift to school. He could fly, of course, but being driven was supposed to, according to Vlad, keep him grounded and human-presenting (that could be a lie though: Vlad could just want to show off his wealth using Dan as a proxy). The driver, a ghost, was silent throughout the drive. The man stoically glanced over at Dan getting out outside the school, peeling off as soon as he slammed the door behind him. “Was that your dad?” asked a voice from behind Dan, making him jump halfway out of his human form and spin around. Clara was walking up to him, shrinking in on herself apologetically. “Oh, no, that’s my uncle’s employee,” Dan responded, trying to play it cool. Clara’s amber eyes blew wide. “Damn, he must be loaded.” She then composed herself. “Are you close with your uncle?” “Not really.” Clara opened her mouth to start asking more, but thought better of it. Smart. They headed to homeroom together, and thankfully kept it to mundane talk of homework and similarly useless junk. Homeroom had a short announcement about not causing trouble for neighbours, but nothing interesting. Clara had a different class next, so the two split at the staircase, Dan heading upstairs to his math lesson. A few students shoved on their way up the stone stairs - an annoyance - but the real pain came when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He sighed and acknowledged the person coming up next to him. A gaggle of a few girls and a single boy followed behind the girl Dan recognised as the leader and someone with no good intentions. She reeked of the sort of rich kid he saw at Vlad’s parties - someone who seemed to think themself royalty and that mummy and daddy’s wealth was a replacement for a genuine personality. He was pretty sure she was in several of his classes, but didn’t care to remember which. He braced for whatever bullshit would come his way, loathing Vlad’s choice of school. “No offence, but I saw you hanging out with that Clara girl, and wanted to warn you about her: she’s all two-faced. I used to be friends with her, but then she stabbed me in the back,” the rich girl announced, her lackeys nodding along. “I just want to make sure you don’t have to go through the same thing.” Dan scoffed. “Two-faced, huh? You’re full of it.” “Pardon?” Oh, this brat was gonna turn nasty. “I’ll take the risk, thanks. Nice talk though.” And with that he walked a little faster to his next lesson, hoping even rich kids had the sense to not start stuff where an authority figure might catch them. This was assuming that the teachers would do anything, which was unlikely. Augh, the annoyances of having to act human and non-violent - he could’ve blasted them into the next year if not for social norms.

His hopes came true and he managed to avoid confrontation up until lunch break, when the guy from the rich kid pack came hunting for him. Dan’s wrist was grabbed, but for some reason he couldn’t figure out: perhaps shock, or a flashback to his younger self, he didn’t put up a fight as his scrawny form was shoved into a closet. An oof came from behind him. Turning around in the darkness, which his eyes pierced through without issue, Clara was huddled on the floor. “‘M sorry for getting you into this mess,” she murmured. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault those bullies decided to make your life hell.” Dan saw the red glow before Clara let out an ‘eep’. Don’t address it, it’ll just make things worse. Dan tamped down on that particular expression of his ghost side and used the cover of darkness to use a little of his powers to try and unlock the door. “What’re you doin-” A hand on his shoulder and he spun around, knocking his companion to the ground. Dan apologised profusely, but it couldn’t undo Clara’s bleeding nose or the fact that she was backing away in…fear, perhaps? Logical, he supposed as he began hyperventilating. His stupid, mortal body felt like it was suffocating, his stupid heart pounding in his ears. He clutched at his chest. Light spilled into the room as the door was opened from the outside, briefly blinding Dan, who shut his eyes tight on instinct. When he opened them he could see a stern teacher leveling him with a stern look from a foot above his puny perspective. No words had to be said for him to know he was in for it now. At least he could try and take the blame for whatever they tried to pin them with.

No amount of trying to explain what happened changed the outcome. He was set to have detention at the end of the day and the brats that did this would face nothing. It was almost funny how little was different between this poncy new school and Casper High. Dan would have laughed if his chest didn’t ache already. It was stupid, he knew as much, but he left. Dan beelined for Vlad’s house, paying no mind to the consequences. He was enough of a disappointment already. Once in his room, now more than ever, his personal bubble, he stayed in his ghost form. It kept the physical discomfort at bay, even though it did nothing to help his emotions. He had to have set a new record for time to screw up after starting a new school. He didn’t even really process the passing of time until there was a knocking at his door. Checking the alarm clock on his bedside table, two hours had passed. “What?” he asked. Vlad opened the door, an unrecognisable swirl of emotion barely hidden behind his carefully neutral expression and pristine suit. “I just got a call from your school that you got detention and then bunked off. Care to explain why you’re acting like a delinquent?” Dan’s eyes burned bright. “It’s all bullshit!” “Go on.” Still burning with fury, but seeing an opportunity, Dan switched back to his human form (no need to freak the old man out). He explained what happened as best he could. Around midway through, Vlad gently approached him, wrapping his arms loosely around him in a hug. It was only then that Dan recognised the tears pouring down his face. Sucking in a sob, he reciprocated the hug significantly more tightly. His hug would’ve likely been constricting for a normal human despite how weak Dan felt in the moment. When the tears subsided some and he could speak again, Dan continued to explain, with occasional gasps of sobbing, being patted on the back by Vlad throughout. “Thank you,” Dan said when all else was out in the open, sat side by side on his bed with Vlad. “It’s no problem. We got off on a bad foot, but I want to help you,” Vlad explained softly, before settling into a barely contained vindictive fury. “And I’m sure the headmaster would love a little talk with me right around now.”

• • •

The cool air made visible the warmth coming off of Clara’s lunch tray where she sat under the old oak tree. “Do you mind if I join you out here?” Dan asked, approaching with a tray of his own. “Not at all.” Clara patted the bench next to her. Dan shuffled some and forced out a “sorry about your nose”. It was still a little bruised from the day prior, but not too bad. “Don’t worry about it,” she dismissed, but Dan continued undeterred. “And, I can’t tell you everything, but I know I’m a bit…odd…Anyway, my uncle’s probably going to burn this school to the ground over the bullying here, so just a heads up.” “Noted, and thank you.”

[the-weirdos-mind]

Profile Update: Cass Oak

Link to old profile if interested

Name: Runa Oak

Nicknames: Cass (by everyone), Coelacanth (by Floyd), Chevalier des Monstres (by Rook), Oak Tree (by Alastor)

Twisted from Dipper Pines

Age: 16

Height: 5’4

Species: Human

Homeland: Crystal Woods

Family:

A mother and father

Romeo Oak (Twin brother)

Cara Oak (Great Aunt)

Clara Oak (Great Aunt)

Dorm: Ramshackle

Best Subject: History of Magic

Class: 1-B

Club: Mountain Lovers Club

Pet Peeves: Being underestimated, not knowing the answer when trouble hits, people messing with her brother

Favorite Food: Energy Bars

Least Favorite Food: Lemons

Talent: Documenting

Background

Cass and Romeo were born in a town six hours north from Crystal Woods in the Kingdom of Heroes. Ever since they were young, the twins had a close bond as siblings. When they were twelve was when her parents sent her and her brother to Crystal Woods to live with their great aunt, Cara, who they had not seen in years for the summer. They were sent there as their parents were under the process of divorce and didn’t want the kids to overhear the situation. The twins were told that they were being sent so they can better hold their magic.

While in Crystal Woods, she discovered that monsters like gnomes, minotaurs, and other creatures existed thanks to a strange journal she found in the woods. She already knew the existence of ghosts, merpeople and beastmen but there were other creatures that had yet made their appearances known. She spent that summer documenting monsters and updating the entries that the author already left. One day, she discovered that she had another great aunt named Clara, who had been missing from Twisted Wonderland for years, due to a fight between the older Oaks sent her through a portal between worlds. She spent some time with Clara as both were interested in the supernatural.

The two older women spent the rest of the summer helping the twins get a better hold of their magic. While she was there, she worked in Cara’s tourist trap called the Cursed Home, an old house that she lived in and became the twin’s temporary home for their stays. Once they heard about the divorce they were crushed. They often called their great aunt’s when the fighting was too much, even after the divorce was finalized. They spent summer in Crystal Woods for a couple of years until she and Romeo ran away to the town, not wanting to be in the middle of their parents drama. Cara threatened to take them to court for being unfit parents unless they agreed to transfer custody of the twins to her.

Two more years after living with her great aunt’s, both she and her brother were surprised to see the ebony carriage in front of the Cursed Home’s door. After Romeo entered the carriage, it didn’t leave. The women were confused until Clara said that the carriage seemed to be waiting for Cass. Once Cass got in the carriage did it take off.

Personality

Cass is a very intelligent and mature girl. She uses her head to calmly solve problems, whether it’s homework or how to take down a monster. It’s useful in stressful situations but there are times when it backfires on her. Some of the students find her to be a know it all and pick on her for being nerdy. Her maturity also tends to backfire on her, as she tends to get in her own way at times and takes things way too seriously at times. When she gets like this, Romeo is there to pull her back to being a teenager. She hates when people treat her like a little kid and dismiss her because of her gender and intelligence.

She does tend to use her findings to her own gain at times. Though she did do wrong, she does what she can to set things right. There are times when she’s extremely paranoid. She has trust issues that sometimes fuel the paranoia and sometimes feel like she cannot fully trust anyone in Ramschackle other than her brother. Despite her issues she finds herself trusting her dormmates more as the year goes on.

Signature Spell

The Mystery’s Solved

This spell allows her to quickly figure out the solutions to problems whenever she can’t think of anything else. She can summon a book that has the solutions to her problem and uses the one she finds best. She can only use this spell once a day.

Trivia

Clara gave her a journal to document her findings in Crystal Woods and she brought it with her to NRC. She now documents the overblots, phantoms, Estella’s magic, Fanner’s arm, and the creatures that live in the woods at school.

She was ticked that she didn’t get to go STYX but the information she received from Fanner and Estella filled up many pages in her journal, making them even

She made friends with the then teenage cashier at the Cursed Home and even went to hangout with him and his friends with her brother. They’re all still good friends to this day and often text each other in a group chat

She flicks whatever she has in her hands, a pen, pencil, piece of hair, whatever in a circle when she’s deep in thought

She does have a criminal record that started when she, Romeo, and Cara spent the night in the county jail for thievery

She’s the resident IT girl in Ramshackle whenever the technology acts up

She has a birthmark on her forehead that looks like the Cassiopeia constellation, where her nickname comes from. She hates it as people have picked on her for it in the past and grew out bangs and wears a hat to hide her forehead

@adrianasunderworld @mangacupcake @writing-heiress @fair-night-starry-tears @queen-of-twisted @achy-boo @abyssthing198 @fiendishfan

[catdotjpeg]

Local school districts are speaking out in support of their immigrant communities as U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement conducts raids in San Jose. With San Jose Mayor Matt Mahan confirming ICE activity on Monday, school districts are taking action to make sure their undocumented students feel safe coming to school despite the threat of deportation. Some districts are making commitments to keep ICE off their campuses, with others creating resources and offering immigrant rights training to staff, students and their families. Santa Clara County is home to more than 134,000 undocumented immigrants.

Berryessa Union School District has created an immigration support resources page on its website featuring information on people’s rights and links to the Santa Clara County Office of Immigration Relations, county Office of Education, California Attorney General, Immigrant Legal Resource Center and Immigrant Defense Project.

Trustee Hugo Jiménez said undocumented families are scared. He said the district will follow guidelines provided by the state attorney general’s office and county office of education. Schools are instructed to contact district staff if ICE agents show up. “(Parents) shouldn’t have to worry about sending their kids to school,” Jiménez told San José Spotlight. “We’ll do our best to protect their rights. Our responsibility as school districts, educators, is to make sure students have a safe environment they can go to and focus on learning.”

ICE, which has a Morgan Hill field office, has been increasing its focus on undocumented immigrants since President Donald Trump took office earlier this month — stoking fears of deportation. San Jose and Santa Clara County officials have been working to support residents who may be at risk of deportation.

Numerous school districts have signed on to a Jan. 14 letter from Charles Hinman, interim superintendent of schools for the Santa Clara County Office of Education, stating ICE isn’t allowed on campuses or to receive information about students without a warrant. This includes Berryessa Union, Alum Rock Union, Milpitas Unified, Mount Pleasant Elementary, Mountain View-Los Altos Union High, Morgan Hill Unified and Oak Grove school districts. “As the California county with the largest concentration of immigrant community members, we want to assure Santa Clara County residents that schools will continue to stand firmly in support of students and families no matter their citizenship status,” he wrote. “Immigrant families, including those seeking asylum, contribute to the fabric of our country and schools play a significant role in helping immigrant students adapt and thrive.” San Jose Unified School District and East Side Union High School District — the two largest districts in San Jose — published their own letters affirming support for their immigrant communities. “Many of our students are immigrants and many of our students have families where one or more of their parents are immigrants who might have immigration status related issues,” Glenn Vander Zee, superintendent of East Side Union High School District, wrote in the letter. “The district remains committed to providing a safe and welcoming learning environment for all students, regardless of immigration status.” SJUSD also passed a resolution saying all families, including undocumented and immigrant communities, should feel valued, safe and protected. Trustee Carla Collins said it’s an important statement to make given the times and fear in the community. Training will be available for staff, students and families to know their rights. “You can’t learn when you’re scared,” she said. “We’re trying to make schools as safe as possible.”

San Jose nonprofit Amigos de Guadalupe is working with schools, local governments, community organizations and legal services to coordinate residents’ protection from deportation. The organization is also crafting policy on responding to ICE and educating residents about the Rapid Response Network hotline. Residents can call (408) 290-1144 to report ICE activity and receive assistance. “Everyone living in the United States has basic rights,” Jeremy Barousse, director of policy and organizing for Amigos de Guadalupe, told San José Spotlight. “We have the freedom to assert those rights in case we ever come into contact with an ICE agent. People have the freedom to remain silent and not cooperate if they don’t have any type of signed warrant.”

The Franklin-McKinley School District board unanimously approved a resolution on Jan. 14 to support its immigrant community. The school district will work with union and nonprofit partners to provide immigrant rights training and support for students, staff and families on immigrant rights and advocate at the state and federal levels for Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, temporary protective status, refugee settlement programs and civil rights protections. Trustee Rudy Rodriguez said he hopes the resolution provides reassurance to students and families, helping them feel more comfortable and protected in bringing their children to school. “Some parents don’t want to send their children to school,” Rodriguez told San José Spotlight. “Children are afraid to go to school and return home to find their parents have been detained. We want to avoid absences because that will only hurt the children. We want children to come to school and feel that it’s a safe place.”

-- "San Jose school districts won’t comply with ICE" by Lorraine Gabbert for San Jose Spotlight, 30 Jan 2025

[posttexasstressdisorder]

It was a delicious day, perfect temps for me to take a walk down to Oak street to drop my ballot in the armored steel box in front of City Hall, on Santa Clara, at 1:17pm, to be precise. Walked over to the next intersection, Central (my street), to Dan's.

Had not been in awhile. Everything just looked amazing as usual. I didn't get all that much, and sadly, berries were not cheap. I got a couple small things of raspberries, will have to get more at GroceOut.

The great thing about Dan's is that right near the front, they've got the bargain bin, which always has at least something to nab. For me, today, it was a bag of small red potatoes for 99 cents, and the same for a tub of cherry tomatoes.

Their greens were gorgeous, and I got a bunch of organic collards, for $2.49, which is a great price. What I've noticed here in Cali is that while they do stock collards, most stores will NOT have Mustard Greens. One of my fave things to cook is a combo of mustard greens and swiss chard. You have the sweet and the bitter and the combo goes well with just about any main dish, or add white cannelini beans to the greens and have a one-bowl meal. Make some cornbread.

So I'll be making those collards with some small white beans, which I've got on-hand dried, which is a great combo as well. Onions, garlic, if I could I'd add some Salt Pork, but with bacon being $10.99 for 12 ounces, and salt pork being unavailable, I'll opt for some good old Liquid Smoke, which I always try to keep in the cabinet.

Got another bunch of organic bananas, and a red onion as well, and everything came to just over $20, which wasn't bad. The collards, potatoes and cherry toms were the score of the visit.

Walked back up Central to the building and got back just about an hour after I left. All in all, a nice little excursion on foot. I'll probably be making the walk down to Dan's more often, now that i know they take the EBT.

I will say this: knowing I made the best informed decisions I could make, and knowing that I personally handed my ballot off to the correct authorities, I can rest a little easier about all this. No, my one single ballot may not "mean" that much, but I made my voice heard.

And to me, that's the best we can all hope for.

Fill out your ballot if you haven't already. Take it to a drop box, or a vote center (County has several!). Get it done. Do your Civic Duty.

You'll feel better for it.

[dandelionpixels]

doctor who hcs

favorite childrens books

ask: How about a Doctor Who headcanon for what each Doctor's favorite children's book is, and why they like it?

Nine: The Little Prince + Paddington

- The Little Prince. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly: what is essential is invisible to the eye” This one is self-explanatory, a boy traveling planet to planet, learning life lessons. Dude its HIM.

- Paddington is a big one. A little bear who had to leave everything he’s every known? Who found a second family? Nine shed real tears over that book.

Ten: Matilda + Curduroy

- Matilda. I don’t really have an explanation for this one, I just know it’s true. I also know he loves Ms. Honey and unbearable amount.

- Curduroy :’)). Ten sees himself in this book like nothing else. A lonely little bear who just wants a home and someone to love. ″This must be home,” he said. l know I’ve always wanted a home!”

Eleven: Goodnight Moon

- Goodnight moon. It really reminds him of Amy. Can’t stress enough that it’s their book. (Eleven bought her a copy one time, and wrote a message in the sleeve)

- Clifford and Curious George. One thing about 11 is that he will be obsessed with wacky animals. Curious george is honestly so entertaining to him and Clifford makes him want to cry in a good way.

Twelve: Where the Wild Things Are + The Giving Tree

- Where the wild things are. This picture is literally twelve btw. Like ohmygod he’s just a lonely little boy who wants a hot dinner and his mom and to play king.

- The giving tree. Lowkey his and Clara’s book. “And the tree was happy.” Augh he’s old and happy and tired and growing. He’s such an old oak tree y’know?

[adsu-shy]

The uncensored version of my Halsin x Clara illustration is OUT on Twitter ! Don't hesitate to follow me on X so you don't miss it and the futur's ones hehe !

Oak father preserves you !