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mydearburkhart · 3 years ago

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The Amy-verse

(or "if I was in that '70s show" part 4) | previously on The Amy-verse

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from That '70s Show, which is created by Bonnie and Terry Turner and Mark Brazill. I own nothing, except for my original character, Amy Hamilton.

Warning: I'm not fluent in English and this is one of the ways I found to learn on my own. So if you find any mistakes, please let me know :)

1×02

*basement*

Hyde: Does it bother anybody else that these women live in Hooterville?

Eric: Technically, Petticoat Junction is down the track from Hooterville.

Hyde: Okay, does it bother anybody else that these women live down the track from Hooterville?

Donna: It bothers me that they bathe in the town water tank.

Kelso: With the dog.

Jackie: It isn't the drinking water, it is the water for the train.

Donna: It's still three naked women with a dog.

Fez: I want to be the Hooterville dog.

Jackie: Ames, you're awfully quiet. Are you okay?

Amy: Yeah, I was just trying to understand the context of this... scene, then I gave up and spaced out.

Kitty: Coming down... now, don't mind me. I'm just putting some clothes in. Eric, honey, I thought you could wear this on your birthday. It's nice, you look so handsome in it.

Eric: Why would I want to dress nice on my birthday?

Kelso: It's your birthday?

Amy: You don't know when his birthday is?

Kitty: Oh, you never know what's going to happen on your birthday!

Eric: Mom... mom, do not throw a party for me.

Kitty: Oh well, listen to Mr. Popularity. Like I have time to plan you a party. [laughs] Oh, uh... by the way, your sister Laurie is coming home from college for the weekend. No special reason, she just is. [goes upstairs]

Donna: Well, you're getting a party and best of all... it's a surprise!

Amy, to Eric: Your mom sucks at keeping secrets, but she's lovely. You should stop being an ungrateful idiot and appreciate the effort she's putting into this party.

[...]

*driveway*

Amy: So...

Donna: What?

Jackie: What are you gonna get Eric for his birthday?

Donna: I don't know, nothing seems right. I wanna give him something... special.

Amy and Jackie looked at each other, then gasped together: He kissed you!

Donna: Shh!

Amy: Donna, get in the car!

Jackie: Yes, get in the car so we can talk!

[...]

*in the car, Amy is on the back seat with her head between Jackie and Donna*

Jackie: Okay, what happened?

Amy: Tell us everything!

Donna: I'm not gonna talk to you two about this.

Amy and Jackie, at the same time: And who are you gonna talk to?

Amy and Jackie, to each other: Nice!

Donna, watching the boys play in the driveway: Okay! We get home from the Rundgren concert, and I'm sitting in the hood of the car, and I kissed him...

Jackie: French or American?

Amy: Even though everyone knows Brazilians are the best kissers...

Donna: I can't believe I'm talking to you two about this... [looks out of the window and sees them playing again] Okay! So, I lived next door to Eric my entire life and we talk about everything together, we love the same music, we love the Packers and then I kissed him and everything changed. And now I don't know if he's my boyfriend or if he's my best friend. If he's my boyfriend I lose my best friend, If I screw it up I lose my best friend and my boyfriend. Now, I have to give him his gift...

Jackie: Donna, Donna! I solved it. Get him... a scented candle.

Amy: Oh yeah, good idea.

Donna: A scented candle?

Jackie: It's practical and romantic.

Amy and Jackie: Oh, yeah.

[...]

*kitchen*

Amy: Hey, Mrs. Forman.

Kitty: Hello... young lady with an accent.

Amy: It's Amy.

Kitty, laughing: Amy... is there anything I could help you with?

Amy: Actually, I want to offer you my help.

Kitty: You want to help me?

*Amy nods*

Kitty: Oh, well. That's new.

Amy: I noticed that you're busy planning Eric's party and thought you could use some help.

Kitty, laughing: Oh honey, that's very kind of you. But wouldn't you rather spend time with the girls?

Amy: Uh... Jackie went to the mall with Donna to help her find a gift for Eric and I'm... kinda avoiding the mall.*

Kitty, understanding what she meant by that: In that case, I'd appreciate your help. Now, what do you know about American birthday parties?

Amy: Nothing really, but I know a lot about Brazilian birthday parties. See, there's a very popular candy on birthdays called brigadeiro. I can teach you the recipe.**

Kitty: Well, doesn't that sound fancy?

[...]

Kitty: Oh, Amy... this is delicious! [laughs]

Amy: I know!

Kitty: Thank you for helping me today, honey.

Amy: You're welcome, Mrs. Forman.

[...]

*basement*

Eric: Look, I know what you're all doing here.

Kelso: What are you talking about, man? We're just hanging out, like always. Except we're dressed nice, but that doesn't mean anything.

*Amy comes into the basement, wearing a red dress and a black jacket*

Amy: Let's party! [sighs] Why aren't you guys excited? I even wore my favorite dress!

Eric: Because I didn't want a party.

Amy: Oh, stop being such a pain in the ass. It's your birthday! Come on, cheer up a little. [she pulls him into a tight hug and gives him a kiss on the cheek] Happy birthday, Eric!

Amy, looking around: Why are you all staring at me? I'm Latina, I'm a hugger!

Kitty, from the stairs: Hi kids, I need your help with something. Amy, Jackie, Donna, Michael, Steven... young man with an accent, would you give me a hand? Not you Eric!

*everyone but Eric goes upstairs to help her*

Kitty: Everybody's ready? I'll call him.

*back in the basement*

Kitty: Eric, honey! Honey, could you come up here for a second? [goes upstairs again] Shut up, he's coming!

Everybody: Surprise.

[...]

Eric: Cassettes? Great, thanks, Hyde.

Hyde: You're welcome.

Amy: Open mine now.

Eric, opening the present: More cassettes? Wow, thanks, Amy.

Amy: Yeah, I didn't really know what I should give you. I was gonna give you a book, but I couldn't find an English version.*** So I thought, I'll give him some cassettes with Brazilian songs.

Kitty: Ooh, let's put them in the 8-track and play them.

[...]

Eric: Hey... it's a hot shave dispenser.

Kitty: Oh, he won't need that for a long time... a long, long time.

Midge: Of course he will, he's almost like a man.

Kitty: *kinda laughing, kinda crying*

Donna: I got you something...

Amy and Jackie: No!

Jackie: Donna, help me find my purse...

Amy: And I need help to find... my jacket?

Fez: But you are wearing it.

Amy: That's not the point, I'll lose it so Donna can help me find it.

Jackie: Donna, now!

[...]

*kitchen*

Donna: Jackie, you didn't even bring a purse... [sighs and points at Amy] And you have your jacket on.

Amy: Like I said, that's not the point!

Jackie: Duh! You can't give him your present in front of his guy friends.

Donna: I am one of his guy friends.

Amy: But you want to be his girlfriend!

Jackie: Look, Donna. I have put a lot of thought into this gift, please do not wreck this for me.

Donna, sarcastically: I'm sorry, I was being selfish.

Jackie, hugging her: It's okay...

Amy: Jackie, she was being sarcastic.

Jackie, gasping: How rude.

Amy, rolling her eyes: You know what? Go ahead, Donna. Give him a romantic gift in front of his friends, who are a bunch of assholes by the way, and his parents. He'll be embarrassed, you'll be embarrassed and it's more entertaining for us!

Donna: How come you're always right?

Amy: It's a talent of mine, you'll get used to it.

[...]

*the Pinciotti's kitchen*

Bob: Three fours, I need them.

Midge: Bob is very good at Yahtzee.

Kitty, gasping: The liquor cabinet!

Red: It's locked.

Kitty: What if there's an emergency?

Red: They'll call.

Kitty: What if they run out of chips?

Red: They'll starve.

Bob, standing up: I'm gonna fix myself a drink. Red?

Red: No... Kitty needs one.

Kitty: Well, I am just so worried– [motorcycle noise] Oh my lord, Laurie's leaving.

Red: Oh honey, she's in college. She doesn't wanna hang around with them.

Kitty: Well, maybe I should make a call, just in case–

Red, reaching for the phone before her: Kitty... what could happen?

Kitty: What could happen? [pause] Well, plenty could happen. Oh, plenty!

[...]

*fantasy sequence, Forman's living room*

Donna: Now that the adults are gone, we can be as bad as we want!

Jackie: Who wants to give Eric a venereal disease?!

Kelso: Hey, look... coasters!

Hyde: Forget coasters!

Eric: Please fellas, my mom put out coasters for a reason...

Hyde: I think I'm gonna put my drink directly on the furniture, that way it will leave a ring!

Eric: NOOO! Why oh why didn't I begged my mother to stay?

Amy: Oh shut up gringo, have some of my country's exotic food while we listen to samba!

Fez: Quiet you silly Americans, I'm on a long-distance call on your parent's phone.

Eric: But that's immoral.

Fez: Ha, in my country of... wherever it is I am from, I can never tell... morals get in the of a good, dirty time. But first, I need to eat some chips... What? Out of chips? Now I am mad, I must shoot something! [pulls out the gun]

Eric: Not the littlest hobo!

[...]

*Forman's kitchen*

Jackie: Wait on the porch, and I'll get Eric.

Donna: It's dark out there.

Jackie: And you're giving him a candle, yeah?!

Amy, shaking her head: Poor Donna, so young and naive.

Jackie: Here, matches.

Donna: He might not want to light it.

Jackie: Don't say that...

Amy: Don't even think it!

Jackie: Now, when he opens it, he'll say cool... or something. And then, you give him a look... like this. [demonstrates]

Amy: Oh no, honey. Don't do that, it won't shine on you. [to Jackie] Jackie, it's Donna, the same girl who wanted to give Eric his gift in front of everybody.

Donna: I'm right here.

Jackie, shaking her head along with Amy: She's right though, don't do that.

[...]

*living room*

Fez: So, what did you get from Donna?

Eric: Nothing yet.

Kelso: Oh... maybe it's the big gift. You know the really big gift. You guys... know what I'm saying when I say the big gift, right?

Hyde: Yeah, we got it... and we got it.

Fez: I'm not even from here and I got it.

*Amy and Jackie come into the living room*

Jackie: Oh Eric... Donna's on the porch.

Amy: She's waiting for you.

Kelso: He's getting the big gift!

[...]

*Amy, Jackie, Fez, Hyde, and Kelso are spying on Eric and Donna*

Jackie: This is it, he's going for it.

Kelso: Uh-huh, it's his birthday, she should kiss him first.

Jackie: She did the last time.

Fez, Hyde, and Kelso: What?

Amy: Shut up, Jackie.

Jackie: Nothing... shut up and watch.

Hyde: Come on Forman, go for it.

Eric, from outside: The door is open, we can hear you... We can see you!

*everyone hides*

Fez: Is he kissing her?

Hyde: None of us can see them, Fez.

Fez: Eric, are you kissing her?

Amy: Since you can hear me... Donna, I told you not to give him the look, it doesn't shine on you.

*Donna closes the sliding door*

taglist

@kim1918, @supernannygirl704things, @snookstheallmighty

let me know if you want to be part of the list ;)

* I don't know if it's clear, but Amy's family is broke.

** Brigadeiro is a little ball made of chocolate, and it's just THAT good.

*** That's actually true, but the English version of the book I chose was only released in 1988.

#mydearburkhart #the amy-verse #that 70s show #70s show #that '70s show #t7s #jackie burkhart #steven hyde #eric forman #donna pinciotti #fez #michael kelso #kitty forman #red forman #bob pinciotti #midge pinciotti

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rosesmith18 · 3 years ago

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(PnF) Headcanon #11 Thomarie Nitpicks #2 Pt.1 Clothing

This is sort of a sister post to post #6 & #7, it mentions characters from post #6, and is connected to my current series of post about the problems I have with the MnT(Marie and Thomas) Universe. I want to make it clear that I like these characters...to an extent, but to another extent I don't. I want the best for them as they were a big part of my childhood, and so in this post I want to make some tweaks to their clothing and personalities, as I find them currently sporadic and dated.

*Disclaimer: The MnT Universe is centered around (OC)Maria Flynn & (OC)Thomas Fletcher. Marie belongs to angelus19 & sam-ely-ember deviantart. Thomas Belongs to Melty64.

Maria's Child Clothing: Okay, so a lot of people have made the claim that Maria's design is generic which I will not deny. It's a blatant ripe off of her mothers clothes with a change of color palette, and while I enjoy the idea of Phineas designing her clothes to be that way, it's a waste of potential(as are most things I will mention in this post). Maria canonically adores France, and in my headcanon was born there, so I think some Parisian style could be added to this design. I'd draw instead of writing about this, but I have no artistic talent. For starters, based on my research(as I myself am not French)puffed sleeves are a common occurrence in French clothing culture, so giving Marie puffed sleeves in place of her mothers regular ones would be nice. Instead of basic shoes, ankle boots are also a common item in French clothing followed by white and/or black tights. Now, ironically enough the style of belt Isabella has on her clothes is similar to a French Skinny belt called a Maison Boinet, so just change it from being one color to a light brown with a metal clip, and it can stay-as can the main outfit. Lastly, to quote https://leoncechenal.com/french-girl-style-guide/ 'And I think the ultimate goal of all French girls is to find their own style (what they like and what they don’t) and to stick to it.', so in summary this doesn't need to look perfect or fancy it just needs to look natural.

Maria's Teen Clothing: Okay, this one is even worse in my opinion, but the whole one color thing is killing me! So, for this I did a COMPLETE recall and came up with this; A purple beret, orange bow wrapped around her neck mimicking a Parisian scarf, dressed in an orange & purple horizontal striped sweater dress that hangs off her shoulders, and a pair of black single buckle ballet flats. She would have a gold chain-link belt to replace her Maison Boinet one, a cameo necklace of the Virgin Mary, and a gold choker with small bells. Based on my research actual Beret's aren't that common in French culture anymore, though ironically striped shirts and dresses are, but Marie's is canonically the one her mother wore in the episode 'Summer Belongs to You' and familial connection is super important to Maria-so I decided to keep it. I kept her Garcia-Shapiro bow as I am appalled they tried to get rid of Isabella's in AYA(Act your Age)! Vivian clearly still has her from when she was young, and I believe every Garcia-Shapiro who wants one should keep them to some extent throughout their life! Off shoulder tops and dresses are pretty common in France as are sweaters, so I gave Maria an off shoulder sweater dress. And, ballet flats are some of the most common footwear for woman in France, they have many styles like the single buckle that don't actually look like ballet flats we American's would usually associate with ballet. The jewelry wore by French woman is wore all the time, and is rarely below the quality of 10-carrot gold. Layering necklaces of different sizes such as a cameo necklaces and a choker is normal, and chain-link belts are considered appropriate for any and every outfit. Chokers are a bit longer than some might expect them to be, and I went with a cameo necklace of the Virgin Mary as I headcanon Maria to be a serious Jew. Lastly, make-up in the French world is some of the most neutral in color and shade, so I gave Maria a soft pink lip and nose bridge blush at best.

Thomas' Child Clothing: I heavily dislike Thomas' child design. It lacks any personality in my opinion when compared to Ferbs or Vanessa's. I appreciate that it isn't a ripe off like Marie's, but that doesn't make it good or interesting. Also, this ties into my biggest problem with Thomas, but he's too...boyish. There is nothing wrong with having a practically boyish character, but that kind of personality and style is better used on a character intended to be boyish, and not characters who happen to be boys. I mean Thomas is the son of one of the most headcanon'd nonbinary characters in the whole show, and one of the most headcanon'd bisexual's in the whole show. This is why I mentioned these characters being a bit dated. They definitely came out before LGBTQ+ representation became popular in the fandom-at least compared to the extent of today. So, for Thomas I want to propose a few heavy changes to his child design, starting with...SKIRTS. I petition Thomas to have an either black & white(or purple and green), plaid skirt that reaches his knees. This style of skirt is popular in both British and German(Drusselstein) clothing culture, and is something his family would so support! I mean the potential Thomas has for normalizing clothing as gender neutral is being completely wasted! A white polo shirt inspired by his fathers and his original design underneath. A tweed blazer-of the same color scheme-which is considered always in style in Britain, and the Haferlschuh which are the most popular type of shoe found in Germany-and suit any outfit. Add some tracht socks in white and you have the perfect style!

Thomas' Teen Clothing: This design wasn't horrible, I actually quite like the overall vibe it was going for, but it's not specific enough. I don't find this design to be more than a vibe; It doesn't go deeper than that when it could. So, I summarized it into this; Ripped up, leather pants, sleeveless, white turtleneck, high-heeled, black boots, and to top it all off a trench coat and leather satchel. Considering Thomas is the lead singer and bass guitarist for a classic/heavy rock band I think some ripped leather pants with a bell bottom are perfect. I kept the sleeveless, white classic turtleneck that came from his original design as I do think it's appropriate. I also wanted to pay homage to his mothers almost iconic heels by giving Thomas a similar pair himself; A pair of black, over the knee boots, with a stiletto heel. The trench coat MADE his original design, and the traditional leather satchel is a perfect accent to it, both are British classics in the world of fashion.

Thomas' Rock Outfit: I'm added a subsection for Thomas' clothes as we NEED to talk about his band outfit. I want to say this first, I don't like the original name for the band. Clair is a generic name that doesn't sound too rock-ish in my opinion. It's supposed to represent Maria as it is a French girls name, but it's too simple for someone like Thomas. So, I changed it to Église des Gémeaux which represents Maria in more ways. The name literally translate to Church of Gemini from French to English. It represents Maria's French heritage, her connection to her Jewish Religious roots, and contains a reference to her birth month of June-her birth sign Gemini. The band in itself is canonically represented by The Spill Canvas which is an American Alternative rock band which I also changed. I gave the band a more Eisbrecher/Queen style as Thomas is German(Drusselstein)/British. Eisbrecher is a German Neue Deutsche Härte rock band(translating to New German Hardness aka Industrial Rock), and most of us know Queen the British rock band known for helping to start the rock genre making them a Classic rock band. Major headcanon to this band I want to add, Thomas primarily sings in German(Drusselstein) as he himself has a heavy German(Drusselstein)/British accent. His canonical outfit is a leather top similar to his mothers teenage attire, some basic jeans, and some black boots. I have rewritten this design as such; Ripped up, bell bottom, leather pants, long-sleeve, purple, deep V-neck top, covered by a studded, leather jacket, and keeping his pair of black, over the knee boots, with a stiletto heel. Accent this outfit with some studded, leather cuff bracelets, silver chain choker, and industrial piercing as well as some crescent moon 2nd/Upper lobe piercings. Now, the style of rock/punk is highly personal and changes heavily from generation to generation, but as someone whose family is highly involved in the antique business; It can be expected that Thomas would have a classic rock style inspired by the band he loves such as Eisbrecher, Queen, The Rolling Stones, Mozart L'Opéra rock, Amon Düül II, etc. Some of the elements of his outfit repeat such as his pants and heels, though his deep V-neck is inspired by a picture of Queen. His studded jacket is inspired by MANY rockers of the past. And, his jewelry has a very punk aesthetic. His make-up can be expected to be heavy with intense eyeliner, mascaras, and aided with a plum lip to match his V-neck. While I do enjoy the Grunge style take for Fred & Xavier; I personally find it underwhelming for someone such as Thomas.

I'll end the post here for now as it's getting pretty long. I'll make a post about personality changes at a later point(likely my next post). If you have any questions, comments, etc about what changes I've made feel free to share them! If you have any expertise with French, German, British, or Rock attire and believe I've been misinformed than please tell me! I remind you I am not an expert on fashion, character design, and am only aware of American trends. These changes are entire based on what knowledge is available to me, and my own personal feelings about clothes and characters, but I'm open to learning! I apologize if my opinions come off as harsh, I am merely opinionated about things I enjoy, but I hold no ill-will towards anyone who thinks differently. At the end of the day, I don't own Marie or Thomas or Phineas and Ferb, and am merely expressing my freedom to make or suggest changes. I encourage anyone reading this post to do the same, and be has intense as you feel, of course WITHOUT being insulting of the people you disagree with. Thank you!

#phineas and ferb #marie and thomas #headcanon #oc #clothing #marie flynn #thomas fletcher #phineas flynn #isabella garcia shapiro #ferb fletcher #vanessa doofenshmirtz #next gen #phinbella #ferbnessa #pnf

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zebraslovescupcakestoo · 4 years ago

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Blush Blush Wish List: New Boy edition.

If you read my wish lists from my previous posts, I did my first as random and a second one about clothing, which one of the clothing wish is coming true slowly, I decided to make a THIRD wish list, based on the Boy/Man bundle. We knew that there will be a new guy coming, plausibly the phone fling winner Poe, so here’s some dream ideas of mine that inspired me.

I will mark a disclaimer right here and now so please read it:

Any thing I write here is MY opinion, MY fantasy and JUST A THEORY. They are NON-canon, not project proof and they’re just fan fic/pic related to Blush Blush.

If you don’t like them or disagree, that’s OK! we can talk about it in the comments or ask box like big girls.

Without further ado, here are my Manimal ideas:

1. Racoon Thief!

I’m staring off with what I already mention on my first and my personal favorite.

I used to read one of the first few books of Arsene Lupin by Maurice Leblanc a few years back and I also watched the old French TV series from the 70′s. I also used to own a film based of him from 2004? and I love it. There is also a 90′s animated series from YTV called Night Hood.

I also noticed that there was a PS2 game with a couple of sequels and a PSVita remake with all the games in one. If you ever played Sly Cooper, this would be a very nice compliment to a legendary Gentlemen Burglar.

I imagine about how the player was on a detective mission, like Cole’s, and he/she stumbles a burglary scene from a bakery store. Player noticed some crumbs leading to an alley and soon find a well dressed racoon... Speaking some French accent, the Gentlemen racoon would explained that since he’s somehow got in a situation that prevents him to go to his ‘job’ he had no choice but to ‘borrow’ until he’s back to normal. With past experiences, you’d tell him that you can help him revert back if he’d promised to pay all of the goodies he has taken from.

I can imagine a Persona 5 references or Lupin the 3rd Easter egg dialogs.

2. Beauty Guru BF!

BEFORE anyone has to say about Jeffree, I’m gonna say HERE that I’ll understand if you don’t like or support him, this is just a reference and ideas.

Now, my second idea for a next Manimal, it would be a beauty guru BF.

Now I would go for someone between Jeffree Star and Kimora Blac. Someone’s that’s very influential, a bit controversial but not that serious and very honest.

So imagine a scenario when the player decided to take a break from streaming and just surfing on Youtube when they came across a makeup review tutorial with a face of an animal. Any animal. Player then clicked it and the animal said:

“Hello everybody and welcome back to my channel! Today, I woke up, got to a mirror... beyoch... The Panda Team, is crazy!!!”

Somehow the player texted on the comments and then sends some pictures that proves you can help him, so he flew from his private jet to meet you!

If this gets canon, let the team know about Jeffree Star and try not to copy him too much like they did with Markiplier.

3. Fashionista Drag Queen BF!

Following from the previous, another LGBT representative would be the man with good fashion taste, RuPaul!

I thought about how the Player would one day be shopping for new clothes and then notice an animal giving out fashion advices. He does admit he’s sadden cause of his physical state, he can’t dress up whatever he’d normally wear.

He’d also would reference from high brands like Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Guicci, random Italian brands, ect...

Imagine on his semi or full human form, he’d be wearing RuPaul inspired tuxedos or a dress option DLC.

4. Royalty Prince charming!

I know that on Phone Fling, we have the self proclaimed Arabian Prince Sascha, but think about an EUROPEAN prince!

Imagine Player was doing gardening and then all of a sudden they heard someone complaining.

“Why are they treating me like I am some pet?! I am a PRINCE!”

You notice the ‘Manimal’ and told them your ‘specialty’ after introducing. “So you’d help your prince from this curse? Should we do true love’s first kiss? Fairly well, but you must prove it!”

This could inspire Disney prince references. ;) You take your pick!

5. Native American Boy.

Before I explain, I just want to say that I respect the Natives and they’re are one of the nicest people, I’m just saying as a character perspective.

If you remembered on my first wish list, I asked for more diversities so here’s one of them!

Player was walking in the nature park and decided to take a rest on a table park when they noticed some thrash that some human dumpster fire was too lazy to put it in the thrash so you did. All of a sudden you head someone said thank you. You turned to see the Manimal in question. “It is so nice of you to think conscious about our home environment when you knew you weren’t the one who done it. May the Great Spirits looks on you.”

I kinda lean towards the Eagle or a Bear cause the Wolf is already taken.

I think it would be a nice reminder for a dialog to us about the environment once in a while and also Disney’s Brother Bear.

6. Frank Sinatra the 2nd! Old school but cool!

THIS is probably one of an interesting idea about an ‘old’ soul. It’s kinda like Myx but classier. Swag are for boys, Class are for men.

Remember the Old Looney Tune cartoons? Remember that character Tweety Bird? Yeah, I go with a canary or maybe a yellow-crested cockatoo with this number.

Imagine Player decided to play a mainstream music from their room, when after about a minute in, you hear someone screaming from next door.

“WILL YOU TURN THAT OFF-TUNE BLIP BLOP?! I’M TRYING TO REGAIN MY SINGING SWING!”

At first you thought it was probably you neighbor, but come to find out, it was a talking bird in a cage. You asked him and he answered. “I just moved in from my relatives and now I’m stuck with feathers instead of a classic bow tie. You said you had experience with this?”

This Manimal would be one of those nerds with bowties and sweaters on shoulder prep boy. He’s more like Frank Sinatra (Pic 1 and 2 with Elvis), Dean Martin or Sammy David Jr. A bit more old fashioned but about the same age as college kids.

Imagine the dialogs would be more like Tweety birds whenever Cole is change in between and had comedy accidents like the cartoons to prevent being his next un-cook chicken nugget!

7. Ancient temple guardian!

If anyone had played Crush Crush, you know about the Suzu bundle in the shop. She’s a white fox spirt that the player had accidentally broke the statue.

Now imagine the same thing, but this time you notice that one of these statues are not the same cause they don’t breathe.

8. Marine surfer/oceanic enthusiast!

Remember when I said there’s no Marine Animals (Yet?) If they do, I hope to see a hot guy who was turned into one while I was just looking at the waves.

Imagine Little Mermaid in a gender swap perspective. He wants to learn about the ocean like Jacque Cousteau and sometimes collects sea shells or old object from the 18th centuries that was from sunken ships.

9. German Soccer coach!

Remember when the German won the soccer tournament from Brazil by 7-1 a few years ago? Now imagine someone from that country that’s the new soccer/football coach for your team.

Player wanted to try a new sport so they go for it, but noticed the coach is a big German Shepperd. He’s Strict, Disciplined and very Passionate.

We need a good doggo for 2021!

10. Eastern Master Chef

I think I saved a nice one for last, but my random card tells me that we need a chef in that game. CC have Bonnibel, we have a Michelin star chef!

I thought about an old school 90′s Iron Chef stars like Chef Hiroyuki Sakai and Chen Kenichi. But this one is from China, where they eat anything with four legs except tables and anything that flies except planes.

Honorary mentions of Gordon Ramsey in the dialogs but he’s too nice and... I want to see someone else besides him.

AND THAT IS IT!!

That’s all I have for Manimal ideas for now. Do you like any of them? Do you have any other ideas? Please tell me of what you think!

#blush blush #manimal #OC #ideas #non canon

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bisexualsforprompto · 5 years ago

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Worth Chapter 3

(*DISCLAIMER: THIS CHAPTER USES VULGAR LANAGUE AS LILA IS A COMPLETE BITCH IN IT, I HATE HER AND SHE’S STUPID AND UGLY, WOW THIS DISCLAIMER TURNED INTO A RANT ABOUT HOW MUCH I HATE LILA)

Also yay! We finally are given the baddie of the plot, though it’s up to you to figure out who it is. Since I don’t want you to know who it is I’ll be referring to he/she as “you” (that’s a little trick I learned from Jennifer Lynn Barnes, my favorite author).

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Dark hair, blue eyes, and French. That was your MO. The skin tone didn’t matter, which is what had the GCPD so mixed up and frazzled. You laughed to yourself as you poured a glass of Chardonnay. There’d been a lull in your girls, mostly the French part. Last time was so...unsatisfactory. She was only a quarter French and she didn’t scream like the others. You disposed of her quickly, and even though she wasn’t what you had hoped you still took a lock of her hair and added it to your collection. You were missing the adrenaline, but you told yourself to be patient, a French class was coming soon. There’d definitely be someone there, maybe even international news. The justice league would probably thank you personally when they found out who the person behind the mask was who rid the world of its scum. You smiled to yourself, ‘I’d be famous worldwide and another French bitch would be out of the world for good.’

Kay wasn’t an early riser, neither was Marinette. That could only end disastrously, luckily, a certain Wayne family decided to call their friend’s daughter for a wake up call. Purely so she wouldn’t be late to their tour, although they did enjoy talking to her. Steph and Kay were very close friends, the closest out of the rest of the family, though Dick did enjoy Kay’s positive personality. Steph was extremely aggravated when she learned Kay was coming to Gotham because she was with Barbara and Cass for a girl’s week. Kay promised to make it up to her though.

So when Kay’s phone went off blasting “Candy Store” she immediately knew that the Wayne family was calling to wake her up. She smiled to herself as she turned off the alarm, it was nice to have people care.

“Oof what time is it?” Kay asked. “We woke you about an hour before you have to leave for the tour.” Said Dick. “Dope, thanks Dick! See ya soon!”

To be honest, Kay was afraid that she would sleep and nobody would wake her up, causing her and Marinette to miss the tour. She dug in her suitcase until she found her favorite shirt, it was the same color as her aqua blue eyes and it read, “Theatre is my sport” (side note I also own this shirt). She laughed at her friend who was still fast asleep, “Mari.” She said walking over to her friend and poking her.

Nothing.

“Mariiiii.” Kay said louder. “Marinette, Marinette, Marinette, MARINETTE!!!”

Still nothing.

“God I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this especially so early in the morning…” Kay cleared her throat and leaned down to Marinette’s ear, channeling her inner Christine Daaé she sang the highest note she could hit.

Marinette shot up, rubbing her pounding head. “The hell? Why do I have a ringing in my ears?” Kay shuffled away with a guilty smile, “I mean- somebody may have sang an E6 in your ear, but in all fairness you weren’t waking up!” Marinette groaned and shook her head. “Thanks for waking me up, even though the means weren’t…what I was expecting. I thought I was going to miss the Wayne Enterprises tour for sure.” Kay giggled, “Honestly me too. Sounds like some shit Lila would try to pull. I wouldn’t worry too much though, Dick would never let us miss the tour.” Kay winked as she walked into the hotel room’s bathroom.

“Dick? Wait isn’t that the American word for-“

“Yeah but it’s also a name. Short for Richard. Bruce Wayne, the Wayne Enterprises guy is his father. Well Bruce adopted him technically. The Waynes are the family my mom and I know from Gotham, Damian, the guy I’m totally setting you up with, is the youngest family member.” Kay exclaimed, the bathroom walls were thin but it was still slightly muffled. “Right that random guy you were shipping me with.” Marinette laughed. “You got it!

“I’m excited for you to meet them, I bet you’ll love the whole family and vice versa. Damian should be coming with Dick on the tour, Tim, one of the other brothers, is working there, so we probably won’t see him. The girls are away and Jason is probably- well Jason’s probably still sleeping.” Kay laughed as she walked out of the bathroom in her favorite shirt, baggy jeans, and dark brown hair in long curls.

“What about Bruce Wayne? Oh my god is he coming?! If he is I have to choose a whole new outfit! AHHH NOTHING I HAVE WOULD WORK!!” Marinette panicked as she tossed her clothes across the floor. “Relax Mari! Bruce won’t care if you’re dressed up or anything. We might not even see him!” Marinette slumped, “I still need to dress up a little though.” Kay giggled, “Ok sure. Whatever you say.”

Marinette ended up going with a red sundress and she wore Kaaliki’s glasses she was given from Master Fu, in case Ladybug needed to be in Paris. They transformed into black plastic glasses with a thin rim.

“Cool shades Mari, since when do you wear glasses though?” Asked Kay popping a piece of waffle into her mouth. “Oh these just accent the piece.” Kay laughed, “You’re such a fashion geek.” Marinette threw one of her blouses on the floor at her, “You’re such a theatre geek.” Kay fell onto the floor in dramatic agony, “You’ve wounded me to my very core, how will I ever survive? Unless they get the fright of their lives.” Marinette rolled her eyes as Kay got lost in her own world singing songs from Beetlejuice and eating her waffle. “Come on nerd, we don’t want to be late.” Marinette said as she extended an arm, Kay promptly took it and stood up once more. “I mean, if we’re late that’s one less minute we have to spend with Liar Rossi…”

“Just come on!” Marinette laughed. The girls walked down the hallway until they arrived to the main lobby where the French class was chatting. Alya walked over to them leaving Lila who was fuming that Alya would leave her for Marinette. “Hey girl, can’t believe you woke up early for once. Hey Kay.”

‘No way in Hell is Alya choosing the weird new girl over me!’ Lila screamed internally

Marinette chuckled, “Yep. Without Kay I definitely wouldn’t have though.”

Lila huffed.

“Thanks for keeping my girl straight Kay!” Alya said giving Kay a playful nudge on the shoulder.

‘Oh that is it!!!’ Lila watzled over to the trio of girls. “Hi girls! Oh Kay! Almost didn’t see you! I forgot to mention earlier, people in Gotham don’t really appreciate fags, so maybe turn down your, you know, lesbian urges and stuff.”

Shock. Was all Marinette felt, then she saw red. She vaguely comprehended Kay holding her back, “Oh yeah Lila? I forgot to mention earlier that people in Gotham don’t really appreciate lying bitches, so maybe tone down your psychopathic tendencies.”

“Kay totally uncalled for!” Alya barked. “Are you kidding Alya?! Didn’t you hear what Lila said?!” Marinette screamed. Lila started to blubber, “I’m- so- s-sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your f-feelings!” She wailed overtop the commotion, adding to the cacophony and causing all eyes to be on them, ‘perfect’. “See, you made her cry! Girl, I can’t believe you’d do this! I always gave you the benefit of the doubt but Lila was right, you are a bully!” Marinette huffed and Kay suppressed screams while still fuming. Alya stormed off, and Lila swooped into the conversation once more. “Kay, do you have a crush on me, or something? Is that why you’re acting this way?!” Kay scoffed, “Please, I have standards. You were right about one thing though, I am gay, but being gay isn’t an insult so I’d take your bullshit elsewhere, because the only insult you doled out throughout this conversation was that I could ever have a crush on someone like you!” Kay pointed at Lila to emphasize her point and before the class could turn on her she took Marinette’s hand and they walked out the double doors of the hotel and waited outside for the bus to arrive.

“Are you okay?” Asked Marinette, placing a hand on Kay’s shoulder. “Yeah fine, I just wish people were more tolerant, and you know that wasn’t exactly my ideal way of coming out to you or the class, but sometimes my mouth just starts moving and I can’t get it to stop.” Kay sniffed, “What’s wrong with me Marinette?” Marinette pulled in her closest, now one of her only friends, in for a hug, “Nothing Kay. Lila is the problem, remember one time when you said she was a- oh what was it? Magic? No, mythic?”

“Mythic bitch. Though honestly Heather Chandler is a step up from that-that” and it all came flooding out. Kay started to cry, something she hadn’t let herself do in a long time. Marinette knew full well why too, any Parisian had to hide their feelings. “I hate her so much Marinette and him too.” Marinette knew which him she was referring to, the one who made them slaves to their own emotions, Hawkmoth. “I know Kay. I do too. Maybe Ladybug will get it right one day.” Marinette felt a drop in her stomach. ‘If I can’t protect the ones I love from Lila how can I defeat Hawkmoth? Maybe...maybe Chat was right.’ Kay looked up, tears still welling in her eyes she wiped them away, Ladybug gave her hope. She was able to muster strength and a smile, Ladybug gave Paris hope, “Come on Marinette, she’s doing the best she can. Ladybug has saved Paris more times than I can count, she’s an amazing hero. One day Hawkmoth will be out of our lives for good, and it’ll be her doing.” Marinette sighed and felt warmth from her friend’s words, at least someone believed in her.

“Miss Kay,” said a proper voice startling the two girls out of their shared moment. “Alfred!!!” Kay grinned, “How are you! It’s been so long! What are you doing here?!” The man, Alfred let out a chuckle, “You’re rambling again Miss Kay, but to answer your questions: I am doing well, and while it has been long Master Bruce has sent me here to pick you and any of your friends up to take you to the tour.”

Kay’s eyes brightened, “Dope!!! This is Marinette,” she said motioning towards the bluenette who smiled and waved kindly. “I think we’re ready to go.” Alfred cocked his head a little, “There is no one else you wish to wait for?” Marinette and Kay shuffled their feet awkwardly, ‘don’t you have any other friends?’ Is what he meant. “Nah, it’s all good Alfred.”

Alfred gave a smirk, although he felt disappointed that Kay only had one friend, she was so sweet, he expected her to be the life of the party. “Oh- by the way,” Alfred started as Kay reached for the limo door handle, “We picked up a guest on the way. I think you’ll be happy to see her.” Kay have an awkward smile and a confused look to Alfred, she opened the door only to see her girlfriend.

“CHLOÉ!!!!!” Squealed Kay, throwing her into a tight embrace. “Yes, yes I missed you too Lené.” She returned the hug pecking her girlfriend on the cheek and seeing somebody she didn’t think she’d ever see again. “Dupain-Cheng!”

“Queenie?!” Marinette asked with a look of recognition, she almost didn’t recognize her friend, after all it had been a year and in that amount of time Chloé put her hair in two braids and had dyed them brown.

“You two know each other?” Asked a confused Kay, as she released her girlfriend to look at Marinette. “Yep. Dupain-Cheng was the only tolerable one in my old class.” Chloé gave her girlfriend a soft smile. Kay thrust Marinette into a hug, “You were the Girl Who Didn’t Believe Lila’s Bullshit! I should’ve known! Thank you for being there for my girlfriend!” Marinette blushed, “It’s not a problem. Chloé was there for me more times than I can count.”

Chloé rolled her eyes while giving a gentle smile, “That class is utterly ridiculous, you weren’t. Of course I was going to be there for you.” Kay wrapped both of them in a tight hug, Chloé still in her seatbelt, “Ahhh my two favorite girls in one place!” Chloé let out a chuckle and gave her girlfriend a pat on the shoulder. “Mmk Lené.”

“Wait Chlo, why are you calling her Lené?” Marinette asked. Kay reddened before burying her hands in her face. “Don’t you dare tell her!” Alfred let out a chuckle before driving off to Wayne Enterprises. “Miss Kay’s real name is Kaylené Khan. She’s embarrassed of it for some reason, a fact that Miss Chloé likes to tease her about.” Kay facepalmed, “Alfred!!!”

“You shouldn’t hide your name Lené. It’s beautiful.” Chloé said twisting her girlfriend’s dark brown hair. “I agree, though Kay is a pretty nickname.” Marinette said giving her friend a playful shove. “Yeah whatever. Let’s go meet your new boyfriend Damian!” Kay teased, “He’s going to be at Wayne Enterprises, isn’t he Alfred?” Alfred kept his eyes on the road while he responded, “Yes Miss Kay, but I have to say I don’t know what you’re talking about in regards to Miss Marinette and Master Damian.”

“Yeah Lené what am I missing?” Chloé demanded before looking out the side window of the limo.

“I’ve made the match of the century Chlo! Damian and Marientte would be the perfect couple!” Chloé scoffed, “No way you can get Ice Prince a girlfriend, though if it was anyone it would be Mari.” Kay smiled, feeling triumphant, “See Marinette it’s meant to be.” Marinette chuckled, “I haven’t even met the guy Kay!”

Kay started to swoon in her seat, “Oh my gosh, I’m going to witness love at first sight!”

Tag list (lemme know if you’d like to be added or I missed you, ps 54 tags?! Omg. Fricking Tumblr said I can’t do more than 50, so those of you on my list will be in the comments ASAP):

@legendaryneckjudgestudent

@interobanginyourmom

@beaversuenightly

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry

@mochinek0

@shamefullove

@emjrabbitwolf

@actual-disaster-human

@tog84

@thequestionablyhuman

@thyladyanput

@vixen-uchiha

@novicevoice

@2sunchild2

@zebrabaker

@chrismarium

@mycupisbroken

@winter-gardenflower

@dast218

@bluerosette23

@chocolatecatstheron

@anjuschiffer

@fertileleaf

@drarryismylife101

@zerotosiki

@littleredrobinhoodlum

@krispydefendorpolice

@octoberscorn

@18-fandoms-unite-08

@clumsy-owl-4178

@queenmj10

@shreky-boi

@magic-miraculous

@gingerdaile

@mooshoon

@ladylb

@eve-is-the-dawn

@bee-wrecker

@fiendsangelical

@captainmac6

@7-sage-7

@weird-pale-blonde-person

@st0rmy-w1th1n

@fatimaabbasrizvi

@mindfulmagics

@fics-by-maria

@miraculous-simmer7

@kuroko26

@severelyenchantedwonderland

@shewhoridesonrainbows

@shizukiryuu

@melicmusicmagic

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troutfishinginmusic · 5 years ago

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An album guide to Fuck

Fuck started with a limitation. If you can get past the giggly name, there’s a lot to take in. Off-kilter and slightly unsettling, Fuck is a band that falls between transgressive and heartwarming. In its brief moment of prominence in the Matador stable, the band was seen by critics as a quirky cousin to Pavement. This is selling the band short. A trip through the band’s discography shows one of the American underground’s most unheralded acts. As I go through all of Fuck’s albums I feel like I’m missing out on some kind of big in-joke. But, since there’s so little about the band out there, I wanted to try sum up its discography anyway. All these albums are pretty hard to find, luckily they’re all on Spotify.

Pretty…Slow (1996)

It’s amazing how fully formed Fuck sounds on its debut. The production is a bit shabby, but most of the songs still hold the same vaguely creepy aurora. Opener “Wrongy Wrong” doesn’t say much explicitly, but creates an atmosphere of unease that’s unique to the band. While the louder songs are performed competently, the slower songs (like “I Am Your King,” “From Heaven” and closer “Shotgun (H) Ours”) are where Fuck really shines. As the band went on, the noisier moments would be reined in a bit. Depending on your preference, this might be a downside. Pretty…Slow is a strong debut from a band that knew exactly what it wanted to be from the start.

Baby Loves a Funny Bunny (1996)

Listening to this makes you realize what Matador saw in the band. Things sound a bit more focused, while retaining the same strangeness of the previous album. “Love Me 2” and “Tired” are great examples noisy lo-fi guitar rock. The midsection of the album shows the band improving on affecting folk/country songs about misfits even further. “Part of Me” might be one of Fuck’s best songs, showcasing its talent for heart-breaking slow-burners. The back half of the album is more mixed. “Rococo” is a relatively straightforward rock song (in sound at least), while “Like You” sounds like a Nirvana outtake. “Loosened Mind” is a quirky song that employs a lot of atypical instruments (triangles?) to create something more detailed and psychedelic than usual. “Crush a Butterfly,” another great slow song, is followed by “Whimper and Cry.” What might set off red flags at first blush is actually, as far as I can tell, a song about S&M in a surprisingly sincere way. Other aspects of the album have aged worse (example: The usage of the word “retard” on one song). Baby Loves a Funny Bunny is strange album, but it ultimately made good on the promise of the band’s debut.

Pardon My French (1997)

Mass appeal? Filled with off-center bummer country, Pardon My French stands as a record that could’ve brought the band a larger audience. Strung together like overhearing a bunch of strange inside jokes that you want to understand. The songs are short and work best when taken as part of a whole. Some (like “Bestest Friend,” “Tether” and “For Lori”) could’ve found their way to alternative radio. Aspects of Pardon My French are just as affecting as more “ponderous” contemporaries like Smog and Cat Power. A great marijuana record (I hate to reducing any record to that), shifting from jokey to melancholy. French stands as a great “indie” album from the 90s. Yet it’s still a bit too scattered to be considered the band’s best work. There’s something preserved here, and throughout the Fuck’s discography, that was lost when the genre became more popular.

Conduct (1998)

There’s a certain darkness to this one. Some of the lighthearted nature of French is lost, which is surprising for a band called Fuck. Louder and a bit more unhinged, Conduct tries for something new and expands the band’s pallet a bit. It’s a fractured, drunken masterpiece that sounds more confident than French. There’s a loveliness to direct songs like “Drinking Artist,” “Laundry Shop,” “Never Comin’ Back,” “Get Over Him” and closer “Blind Beauty.” Even goofs like “Monkey Doll” and “Twist Off” are still pretty convincing. Melancholy folk/country is still where the band shines the best, though. Conduct is more like a collection of songs than a collection of interesting sketches. It’s possibly the band’s finest moment.

Cupid’s Cactus (2001)

This one loses some of the immediacy and memorability of Conduct. The opener “Glass Charms” dispels any potential sincerity with a faux-country accent part. Yet, after that point, the music of Cupid’s Cactus is even darker and slower moving than Conduct. A better point of comparison would be a more joke-y Low rather than Pavement. “Someday Aisle” is a gorgeous meditation that feels like a good companion to closing time at a bar. While Fuck was never bad at louder songs, the decision to focus on the slowcore side of its sound was a good idea. That said, the louder songs like “Awright” and “Never Alone” are still highlights and break things up a bit.

“Panties off” is a horribly depressing song about prostitution for drugs (I think), but gets across something the band has alluded to in more subtle ways on previous albums. The intention seems to be that sadness exists but there’s unintentional humor that’s impossible avoid even in the worst times. Some could read into this as mean-spirited or trivializing, but there’s something deeper and more complicated at work in these songs. This is something Fuck conveys better than say Ween.

Those Aren’t My Bongos (2003)

This might be the quintessential Fuck album. It gets its point across more clearly than the previous albums and sounds downright pretty. Those Aren’t My Bongos opens immediately questioning the audience’s uptight opinions on sex: “Does the penis offend you? Do the female charms alarm?” This might be the right disclaimer for every Fuck album. It seems like the band’s overarching goal is to create a sense of empathy and discuss the awkward parts of sex more openly. This is all done with a goofy lightheartedness to help balance the darker passages. The romantic acoustic strum of “Her Plastic Acupuncture Foot” was my introduction to the band. I’d argue it’s one of its best songs. How many bands can successfully weave a cartoon blowjob reference into something so romantic? Throughout the album some slight electronics are used as accents, working to vary the band’s sound a bit. Taking out individual moments on this one doesn’t really make sense; it definitely works better together. One that’s impossible not to mention, though, is the gorgeous “How to Say.” The song might be one of Fuck’s strangest considering how direct and sincere it is. TAMB is a patchwork of strange jokes and melancholy swirling together to make a truly unique statement. It rivals Conduct as the band’s best album.

The Band (2018)

It seemed like Fuck all but disappeared after Those Aren’t My Bongos. I was beyond shocked to see they were back together and had a new album out. This one sticks closer to albums like Pardon My French and Conduct, alternating between louder and softer songs. It’s also lighter and more jokey. “Cream Pie Patch” and “Thirsty Gnome” get closer to the balance struck on TAMB, reveling in sex jokes. It’s hard to call a Fuck album fun, but The Band definitely comes close. “Meet the Gibbons” for example is definitely sort of disturbing in its descriptions of mutilation, detracting from the fun vibe of the previous song (“Thirsty Gnome”). “Leave My Body” is a dreamy reverie of a song, leaning on the folk/country the band does so well. The back half of the album abandons the odder moments for the touching, slow-motion ballads Fuck excels at. The Band is a good example of a reunion record: A bit of a progression, a bit of a reminder. There’s something oddly comforting about that even for a band this deeply uncomfortable.

For a playlist of Fuck songs I put together click here.

#Fuck #matador records #1990s #indie rock

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wildhcartcd · 5 years ago

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↳ Oh, wow, is that ALEXANDER LUDWIG? Never mind, it’s just HENRIK EINARSSON, the 25/1145 year old PANSEXUAL VAMPIRE. I did hear that HE is COURAGEOUS & DEDICATED but also really BRUTAL & ENIGMATIC. In the great war, HE is on the BLACKSTONE side. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

** see frankie’s intro for disclaimer.

— henrik was born in a small icelandic viking village in the year 875 to einar and freya-- the youngest of several siblings by that point he was raised in an environment built on the stability of his family home and their ability to mold their children into warriors. his father trained with him on a daily basis by the time henrik was seven and henrik-- already being a large boy for his age-- took to battle as though it was what he was born to do. litli kappi ( little warrior ) became a nickname for him given to him by his mother though it was one he only tolerated when his family used it. he was determined to become a warrior his family could be truly proud of and when he was fifteen years old he experienced his first taste of real battle when he accompanied his father and brothers on a raid on a local village.

— his childhood nickname gave way to another after the battle with his entire village and even surrounding villages coming to know him as dauða bræðrumaður or “death bringer”. he was a fierce warrior but a kind man-- he doted on his family and friends and considered those in his village to be worth protecting down to a man. when his village was brutally attacked when henrik was in his mid-twenties he rallied the warriors to defend it at all costs and in that battle the famed death bringer was felled; bleeding to death on the edge of his village henrik met sigrid who he initially assumed was a valkyrie meant to spirit him away to valhalla. with his near-dying breath he begged her to save him and it was then that his life was changed forever-- he was made immortal and promised to follow and protect sigrid through the rest of their immortal lives.

— for the first time in his life henrik was forced to leave his family behind and he lamented the decision frequently within his first year of immortality though he hoped that they would mourn him and move on. as the years passed he would occasionally ask sigrid to visit his home with him once more to check in on his family from afar and when they all passed away henrik paid his home a visit one last time to honor them before he left his village behind forever. no longer a warrior henrik turned his attention to becoming as good a man as he could manage even with his newfound blood-lust and everything being a vampire had brought along with it. he seemed to balance sigrid out in several ways and he found himself utterly devoted to her the more time they spent together. it was only a year or two into their extended companionship that he admitted he loved her as a man would love a wife and he still very much feels that way even with over one thousand years of life behind him.

— as the world continued to develop around them and war came and went henrik found himself involved in battle on more than one occasion-- it was in his blood and whenever he found a just cause to fight for he could often be found among the ranks of the soldiers fighting for the same cause. even as technology changed his skill in battle only grew and he was a fierce warrior worthy of history books in every conflict he was involved in-- though he often changed his name and avoided photos so as to not draw too much attention to himself.

— settling in windham and leaning in to a relatively quiet life was something henrik initially had quite a bit of trouble adjusting to but with war on his doorstep once more henrik can feel the itch to defend his loved ones sparking through him day by day. life in windham has also brought another surprise to him in the form of freya olsson - a woman he has only recently learned is a descendant of his family who looks so much like his own mother it pains him to see her and not know her well at all. it’s something henrik intends to change if it is within his power to do so.

basics

Full Name: Henrik Magnus Einarsson. Nickname(s): Henry. Age: 25 ( physical age ); 1145 ( actual age ). Date of Birth: He was born in the year 875; in the 1800′s he gave himself the birthday of June 19th. Zodiac Sign: Gemini. Place of Birth: A small village outside of what is now Reykjavik. Ethnicity: Caucasian. Nationality: Icelandic, American. Gender: Cis male. Sexual Orientation: Pansexual. Religion: He still believes very deeply in the Norse gods of his childhood. Occupation: He works for a private security firm. Language(s) Spoken: English, Icelandic, German, French. Accent: He has a fairly noticeable Icelandic accent ( think Riley from Sense8 ).

physical appearance

Face Claim: Alexander Ludwig. Hair Color: Blonde. Eye Color: Blue. Height: 6′2″. Weight: 194 lbs. Build: Fit, athletic. Tattoos: He has two sleeves worth of Norse themed tattoos. ( here ) ( here ) Piercings: He doesn’t have any piercings. Distinguishing Characteristics: His size and tattoos, his smile, his accent.

family

Father: Einar Magnusson. Mother: Freya Gunnarsdottir. Sibling(s): Ari, Bjorn, Freyr, Birgitta, Runa. Pet(s): He doesn’t have any pets. Financial Status: Wealthy.

#☠ [ we've made such a mess of this place; there's bloodstains on your face ] henrik.#tmw.intro

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cameronspecial · 6 years ago

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The Marriage Games (Ch.1)

Pairing: Prince! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) (Y/L/N) grew up in the palace with her brother and the royals; her and her brother are practically apart of the royal family. The Queen decides to help her eldest son find his own queen by inviting ten female suitors to live in the palace. What happens when through this process he finds love with a woman that is not one of the contestants?

Word Count: 2 894

Disclaimer: This series is inspired by The Selection by Kiera Cass and Yellow Roses by @h-osterfield.

A/N: I have updated my masterlist, so all the blurbs are on it. Go check them out for more Tom and Y/N situation.

It had been two weeks since the queen had made the big announcement and the palace is now running around with maids that are getting ready for the ten new arrivals that were supposed to be here at any moment. A week ago the names of the suitors had been picked out and they have been told the details they needed for when they came to the palace. Y/N is sitting reading her book on her balcony that is facing the city. Tom slides the door open and makes his way over to the girl sitting on the patio couch. “Everything is a little overwhelming with all the maids rushing around to get stuff clean before the females come. It’s going to be so weird to have all these people in our house,” he announces as he sits beside the girl and takes the book out of her hands. She glares at him and yanks her book back into her hands, “Yeah, I just hope they are not all going to be super hormonal. It is definitely going to take some time to get used to because of the fact that I’ve been surround by guys my whole life.” She puts the book down and rests her head on Tom’s shoulder. “Yeah, this is definitely going to take some time to get used to,” he tells her as he wraps his arm around her shoulder. Tom loved these moments between him and Y/N. He felt like he and she were the only people in the world. Before they could start talking about something else, Timothy knocks on the door to inform them that their guest had arrived.

Tom and Y/N made their way down to the main hall to greet the guest. They stood at the end of the stair waiting for each of the suitors to be introduced. The royal announcer stands near the front door and introduces each of the females, “Princess Adalyn of the House of Bellerose from France.” Enters a tall, snotty looking girl with long beautiful hair that went down past her bum and bright blue eyes. Her beautifully pale skin was obviously caked on with makeup. She wore a frilled white blouse with a pretty pink cardigan and a beige pencil skirt that went to her mid thighs. Her black heels five-inch heels were perfectly shined and only added to her height. “Hello, your highness. I am very grateful for this opportunity although I wouldn’t need this opportunity if you had just answered my calls,” she says with a soothing French accent. Tom just nods his head, “I am sorry for not answering your calls. I have been very busy lately, but I am very happy that you were chosen to come and stay with us. Now, I will have the time to get to know you better.” Adalyn had been trying to get Tom to go on a date with him, but he has always avoided going with her solely based on how she acts whenever she was at one of the events that they were at. The princess is lead away to her room so that the following suitor can come in.

“Miss Camellia Durant from England.” Camellia walks into the room with a shy smile on her face. Her dark brown hair went down a little bit past her shoulders and she had the most beautiful caramel eyes that Y/N had ever seen. Her hair was pinned back with a bobby pin that had a daisy jewel on it. She wore a black dress with daisies and her cream flats tied the outfit together. She holds her hand out timidly and Tom gently, but firmly, take it into his hand. “Thank you very much for this opportunity,” she says in an almost whisper. Tom gives her a gentle smile, “It was not really my choice, but you are welcome. I really look forward to getting to know you.” Camelia looks over to Y/N and gives her the same shy smile that she had on when she walked in. Just like Adalyn, Nancy leads Miss. Durant to her room so that she can get settled in. “Princess Darcy of the House of Eads from Ireland.” Darcy did not look the typical princess. She has short curly orange hair and stunning green eyes. Her beige skin was spotted with freckles and her nose was pierced with a bull ring piercing. She had an air of mystery that intrigued both Y/N and Tom. She wore a leather jacket with a dark red camisole and a shark tooth hung from her neck. Her dark blue jeans were tuck into her dark black leather biker boots. Her fingers were adorned with rings, which were cold against Tom’s hand, “Nice to meet you, Holland. Can’t wait to get to know you more.” Before Tom could answer, she walks off toward Nancy who takes Darcy to her room. “She seems pretty badass,” Tom says to Y/N who agrees with him.

“Ms. Farryn Graham from England.” Farryn’s dark skin looks beautifully soft and her beautiful dark brown hair was tied back in a perfect ponytail. She wore a red plaid shirt and jean overalls with tanned Timberlands. She shakes both Tom’s and Y/N’s hand with a warm smile on her face. “I can’t wait to experience this new adventure with you.” Tom gives her a smile and tells her, “Well I am glad that you can be a part of this adventure with me as well.” The next person to be announced was, “Princess Lalia of the House of Maris from Greece.” In walks a perky girl with long light brown hair that went to her waist. Her emerald eyes sparkled so brightly just like her smile. “Hiya, I am Lalia! I am really excited to be here. Do you have Netflix right? I really can’t go anywhere without being able to watch Riverdale. This is so exciting, I really can’t wait to get to know you. Hi, you must be Y/N! I love your outfit, you look so pretty! Well, that lady over there seems to want me to go with her, so I am going to go! Byeeee,” she babbles in a strong Greek accent then she runs off after Nancy. She was wearing a black lace dress that looked like Veronica’s dress from Riverdale. She wore Jughead’s beanie and dark red heels. “She was very talkative,” Y/N comments as they wait.

Before she was announced into the room, the following suitor walks into the room and in a confident manner. She had beautiful dark brown hair and eyes; she reminded Y/N of Yasmin from Doctor Who. Ironically she wore a Doctor Who tee-shirt with a galaxy cardigan and black skinny jeans. Her black vans had a TARDIS on the side and you can tell that she is a fan. “Listen, I was not really too keen on doing this, but I thought that this was a good way to meet people. I want to say that I am looking for a relationship, but the reality is that I would rather just be friends. Maybe, later on, we can see where this goes,” she says before she walks out of the room without anyone saying anything else. That was definitely an unusual way to introduce yourself to a prince. “That was Miss Nella Khan from England, the following suitor is Princess Jensine of the House of Kaas from Denmark. Your Highness,” Timothy declares. In walks a tall female wearing a beige romper and black flats. In her hands was a white ceramic container and that peaked Y/N’s interest. She had dark blonde hair that is in a pixie cut and stunning greyish green eyes. “Hello, I am Jensine and it is very nice to meet you. I am very excited to learn more about you and your amazing country. I have prepared for you æbleskiver. It’s basically Danish pancakes with a filling inside. They are very good!” she exclaims happily. She gives Y/N hug and then hands her the container full of the Danish pancakes. Jensine then goes over to Tom and gives him a hug as well. Nancy calls her over and she happily follows her.

“Three more to go,” Y/N sighs as they wait for the next person to come in. “Miss Primrose Quincey from England.” She wore a black shirt that said Winner with red flannel and light blue jeans with purple vans. “Hi, this is palace is really big and I really need the bathroom,” she informs the pair. Primrose wasn’t scared to say what is on her mind because any normal person wouldn’t have just said that in front of a prince. Y/N had also noticed that she had an American accent. Tom let’s out a chuckle and points her in the direction of the bathroom. Y/N watches the dark brown hair and light brown eyed female runs off in the direction of the bathroom. “I like her, she’s not afraid to say anything in front of me,” Tom comments. “Yeah, that’s true. I have never seen anyone rather be in a bathroom than with you,” she teases. Tom just shakes his head as the following person to walk in.

“Princess Rosetta of the House of Sabato from Italy.” She has pretty curly auburn hair and light blue eyes. Freckles spot her face which adds to her beauty. She wore a pastel pink dress that went past her knees with a thin light brown belt around her waist. She wore a white lace cardigan with brown ankle-high boots. “Hey, you have a really lovely place, your highness. Your family are very lovely people. They have been very kind to me and I couldn’t be more grateful,” she remarks sweetly with a huge smile on her face. “Well, thank you! You are very kind as well. I am very glad that you could join us,” Tom voices to her with a smile on his face. She looks at Y/N and gives her a smile, “You are very kind and pretty. I have seen you at some events and have always wanted to talk to you, but you are always helping people and talking to everyone.” Y/N’s face heats up at how nice she is being and tells her thank you. Another conversation couldn’t be held because of the fact that Nancy had asked to take Rosetta to her room. Timothy enters the room with the last contestant and announces, “Finally, Miss Mabel Newman from England.” Mabel walks in with confidence and pride. She wore a colourfully knitted hoodie with black leggings and biker boots. Her long wavy ombre brown that frames her face perfectly. Her hazel eyes stood out in the crowd of the rest of the suitors and she looks very nice and sweet. However, Y/N doubted that Mabel was only what she seemed because of the vibe she got from her. Tom didn’t seem like he got the same vibe based on the conversation that Y/N is eavesdropping on. Tom seemed to have been sold on the whole nice girl act.

Tom and Y/N collapse onto Y/N’s bed after their long morning with meeting the suitors. “So what did you think about the girls?” Tom asks his best friend for advice. Y/N takes a moment to think, “They seem cool. Although Adalyn and Mabel give me this vibe that I can’t really explain, it could just be me. You shouldn’t base your opinions on your maybe future wife based on what I say.” Tom understood what she was saying and he respected her opinion. “Well, since you won’t be the only female in the palace for a while now. I think we should go out together only the two of us. Just in case I don’t have time while the females are over. What do you think?” Tom questions her. Y/N smiles at him and gets up from the bed, “I think we should go down to the beach. How about you?” Tom jumps up from his bed and runs out to his room. Y/N took that as a sign that they were going, so she prepared her stuff to go. She got out her one piece with the sleeves that go off her shoulders. The pastel blue bathing suit was decorated with pink coronations. She grabs sunscreen, a floppy sun hat and sunglasses. She packs them in her beach bag, then goes to grab her book, portable speaker, and towel. She packs a pair of underwear and puts on her clothes before running off to Tom’s room. “Hey, you almost done?” she calls to him while she pounds on his door. “Yeah,” he replies to her as he opens the door with a bag on his back.

They walk down toward the water on the calm and isolated beach. This was the Holland’s family private beach, so it was only the two of them alone with a few security guards walking patrolling the beach. Y/N places her towel in front of the beach tent and kicks off her sandals. “You know the pool chairs a probably more comfortable than the sand, right?” Tom informs the young female. She looks at him and pats the spot beside her, “Yeah, but if I am in the tent then I am not going to be in the sunlight. Now, come here please so that you can help me with my sunscreen and then I can do yours. You definitely don’t want to get a sunburn again, Tommy.” He obeys her order and sets his towel next to hers. He grabs the sunscreen bottle and starts putting some on him; Y/N grabs the bottle to start doing the same thing and when they get to their backs, they helped each other out. Once they got the sunscreen settled, Tom calls over Timothy and asks him to bring a beer and virgin sex on the beach. Y/N smiles at the fact that Tom knows her choice of drink and knows that she doesn’t do alcohol, but he should know that because they have been best friends forever. Y/N takes out her book and starts reading her heart out, however she didn’t get to enjoy it very much because someone had ripped the book out of her hand and put it back in her bag. “Love, we came here to hang out together and that’s what we are going to do. Let’s go take a dip,” Tom suggests to her, but she immediately starts shaking her head. “Tommy, it’s too cold.” She starts backing away from him, knowing that he is going to try to pick her up and throw her in the water. “Well, I know you will always be up to making a sandcastle. So let’s go!” he bargains with her.

She decided that she should do this with him, so she grabs some sand building stuff from the tent and goes toward the spot that Tom had chosen for the castle. She sits beside him and they start making a pile of sand for their castle. Timothy is coming back with their drinks in his head and the two of them had just about finished building their castle. They clean off the sand on their bodies in the ocean and go to the lounge in the tent. They sat on the pool chairs, sipping their drinks, and talking about life. “Are you really going to be okay with all the girls at home?” Tom questions his friend. “Yeah, Tom, I am not going to hold you back from doing what you want. It’s going to be something new, but if it means that you may find your happiness then I can survive,” she promises him, knowing full well that he wouldn’t do this if she didn’t want him to. Tom nods his head in understanding and sits up from the chair, “Okay, I believe you. Now, let’s talk about your birthday. What do you want to do for it?” It took Y/N a while to remember that her birthday was in about two weeks and to think about what she wanted to do for it. “Hmm, I think I just want a movie night with the family and Harrison.” Tom nods his head and starts to plan her party in his head. “I guess the water is warm enough now,” Y/N thinks out loud and a big smile comes up on Tom’s face. Tom picks her up and runs her to the water. They swim around in the water and splash each other like children. There were several times that Tom and Y/N had dunk one another underwater, and by the end of the day, they were both so tired. They made their way back up to the palace and take a shower. Y/N got changed into pyjamas and was lying in bed when all of a sudden there was a knock on the door. She tells the person to come in and in walks Tom wearing only his boxers. He lies down beside her on the bed and they continue to talk about life. Tom was planning on going back to his room, but he was so tired that he fell asleep on the bed with Y/N. He subconsciously pulls her into his chest by her waist, even in his sleep he wanted to protect her.

Taglist: @tmrhollandkay @embrace-themagic @whereartthouwakanda @smexylemony @bookgirlunicorn @mysteriouslydelightfulwolf @melancholland @casualprincess77 @notes-from-my-journal @katiekitty261 @spidermansmj14 @redrebecca @deranged-sewer-rat @loverofthingscool @jackiehollanderr @iamthescarlettwitch @parkeret @i-bitch-you-bitch @furiouspaperfarmegg @arrantsnowdrop @loxbbg @hollandechart @converseskyline @musicandbokkslovingweirdo @holypizzafestivalfire @youllbemineandillbeyours @lydiasbxtch @tomshufflepuff @bookgirlunicorn @spideysimpossiblegirl @starlightfound @softspideyboy @captainbuckyy @arrantsnowdrop @timelock97 @ophcelia @mendesmusical @the-tales-of-ck @tchalameme @thequeensardine @inlovewith3 @alovely-day

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland imagines #tom holland blurbs #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x yn #tom holland prince x reader #tom holland prince #prince!au #prince! tom #prince! tom holland #prince! tom holland x reader #the marriage games

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sindrafalcone · 6 years ago

Text

Advent Calendars

Fandom: BIGBANG/ Choi Seunghyun x reader

Synopsis: Advent Calendar surprises with Seunghyun

Warnings: Holiday fluff

Author’s Note: Taadaa! Today it’s my ultimate muses turn. :) Now we only have the maknae & the bonus drabble left! (Btw, this is NOT set in the Nannyverse. Pretty obvious once you start reading, but I just wanted you to be aware.)

Reminder that there will be one drabble posted each Saturday until Dec. 29. It’ll be in random order, since I’m pulling them from a hat again. lol It’s fun that way!

Also, there will be reposts of last years Christmas Drabbles every Wednesday.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This story contains fictional representations of real people. None of the events are true. This is from an American standpoint, so some of the situations may not happen the same way they might in Korea. I make no money from the writing of this fictional work.

Masterlist

Seunghyun was obsessed with Advent Calendars.

You could never wrap your brain around why your husband did them. You found them sort of pointless, because all you really had to do was look at a calendar to see how many days there were until Christmas, instead of eating a piece of chocolate every single day in December. You were pretty sure that it was just because he wanted to cheat a little on his diet. Seunghyun always used the same excuse...

"I'm getting into the Christmas spirit, _________-ah. You should too."

You would reply about how your hips were getting too wide & you didn't need the chocolate's help with that, thank you very much. Seunghyun would then reassure you that you looked fabulous just the way you were, but that's what husbands were supposed to do.

Today was different though. For once, you were happy that Seunghyun had one of those ridiculous Advent Calendar things, because it gave you the perfect idea.

You had been sick for the past couple weeks, with what you had (at first) presumed to be the stomach flu. Your entire office had gotten sick a few weeks prior, so you figured that you had caught it from one of them. But while your coworkers started to get healthy, you didn't. You shrugged it off and continued with your work projects, ignoring the way you would wake up, puking your guts out.

Seunghyun had finally managed to convince you to go to the doctor's yesterday. But he hadn't been able to go with you because of a surprise meeting with YG. You were disappointed at first... but, after the fact, you were glad your husband couldn't go. Because you ended up finding out that you, wife of none other than idol rapper TOP, was pregnant with your first child.

While at the doctor's office they did a urine test, a blood sample & an ultrasound, and you had been given fuzzy, black and white pictures of the small jelly bean now growing inside you, due on July 15th. And last night, while Seunghyun had been distracted with a phone call, you had stolen his chocolate for the following day. Then you slipped one of the ultrasound pictures inside his advent calendar. It just barely fit in the little window... all rolled up and tied off with a red ribbon.

Like usual, you got up first the next morning, and started on the coffee. You played on your phone for a little while, looking for any Christmas sales. You desperately needed to finish up the last of the shopping, still unable to find a gift for your husband of three years.

Seunghyun didn't come downstairs for almost another hour, first grabbing himself a mug of steaming hot coffee.

"Morning." he mumbled, shuffling past you and stopping on his way to his seat at the table to peck your lips.

"Morning, honey." you smiled, setting down your phone and taking a sip from your own mug with both hands.

"We really need to fix that bed, it's incredibly uncomfortable." Seunghyun groaned, running a hand through his adorably sexy bedhead. After moving in together years ago, the two of you had accidentally broken a couple slats on the bed, making the mattress dip a little towards the middle. Seunghyun grumbled that it needed to be fixed almost every morning, but nothing had changed yet.

"Maybe you're just getting old." you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

"I'm thirty one." he deadpanned, drinking from his Mondrian mug.

"Yeah, yeah..." you playfully rolled your eyes at your husband.

"Do you want me to make you some breakfast?" Seunghyun asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Sure." you smiled, knowing he would see the advent calendar sitting on the counter if he did go and make some food.

"What would you like? French toast or pancakes?" he asked getting to his feet, quickly pressing a kiss to the top of your head before heading towards the stove.

"French toast." you hummed in response, the thought of his breakfast specialty making your heart warm and your stomach grumble. You didn't realize you were that hungry until Seunghyun mentioned his famous, homemade French toast.

"French toast it is then." he smiled & shuffled towards the stove but stopped when he saw his advent calendar sitting on the counter, just as you had predicted he would. "Wait... it's the fifteenth today, I have to eat my chocolate." he said the word 'chocolate' with a thick, French accent, his deep voice making you squirm in your seat a little. "You sure you don't want one of these? You can have my chocolate today if you want."

"No thanks, I'm good." you said, trying to keep a straight face... knowing you had already eaten your husband's chocolate for today, last night when you put the picture in.

"Suit yourself." Seunghyun shrugged as he looked for the number fifteen on the little cardboard box, quickly finding it and going to open it, ignoring the fact it was already partially open. He obviously wasn't awake enough to notice, but what he would find inside should wake him up fairly quickly. He made a confused face when all he saw was a rolled up paper with a red bow around it. "Yeobo, what is this?" he asked, pulling it out.

You bit your bottom lip, anxiously waiting to hear Seunghyun's reaction & you had turned sideways in your chair to look at him from across the kitchen.

Seunghyun unwound the red ribbon & carefully unrolled the paper, looking at the printed picture in silence for a few moments. At first, he didn't know what it was, but once he saw the doctor's name on it & looked at it more closely, he realized it was an ultrasound....and it also had your name in the corner. He had only ever seen them in movies or dramas, he'd never actually seen one for himself.

"________-ah, what's going on?" Seunghyun asked, lifting his head, a hopeful smile on his face. You just looked back at him, your face bursting into a smile and your eyes starting to water. "Are you pregnant?" he asked slowly. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to stop the sob that welled up in your chest, and nodded slowly. Your hormones were clearly already starting to take action.

"Oh my god! Come here!" your husband yelled, dropping the picture onto the counter and rushing around the table to scoop you up in his arms, hugging you tightly to him. You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, crying silently. "Oh my god. Oh, _______-ah..." Seunghyun cried, petting your hair before pulling back to look at you.

"Are you really? This isn't a joke or something?" he asked, cupping your face in his massive hands. You nodded your head as best you could.

"Yeah, I am. I'm pregnant." you chuckled, your voice thick with unshed tears.

"Oh, yeobo..." Seunghyun whispered, leaning forward to press his lips against yours, breathing in through the kiss. You giggled into it, wrapping your arms around his neck again. "We're having a baby!" your husband laughed almost deliriously, once you broke apart for a real breath, foreheads pressed together.

"Yeah... we are." you chuckled, pecking his lips once more. Senghyun looked down at your bodies pressed so closely together and rested a hand over your abdomen, through your pajamas.

"How far along are you?" he asked, rubbing gently at your shirt clad belly. It wasn't a bump yet, not at eight weeks, but it didn't change the fact that there was a baby growing right under his palm, his baby... your baby.

"According to the doctor, I'm eight weeks as of yesterday." you told him, sniffling a little & trying to hold back your tears.

"I can't believe this is real." Seunghyun said quietly. He looked back up at you, his heart swelling with love. "You're so perfect. I love you so much." he said, cupping your face once more to capture your lips in another kiss.

"I love you too, Seunghyun. Merry Christmas."

#bigbang #t.o.p bigbang #bigbang scenarios #bigbang scenario #bigbang fanfiction #bigbang fluff #choi seunghyun #Choi Seunghyn #choi seunghyun scenario #choi seunghyun fanfiction #T.O.P #t.o.p scenarios #T.O.P fanfiction #T.O.P Scenario #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop scenarios #kpop scenario #christmas drabbles 2018

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eternallyyoungjustice · 6 years ago

Text

Wherever the Winds Take You: Chapter 2

Author’s note:

Hey hey hey you beautiful people. Second chapter within the same month as the first, that’s a surprise.

So just so you all know, as per usual I’m super busy (school, work, extra-curriculars, social life, getting a semi-decent amount of sleep) however, as I’ve recently been loving this motivation train for writing this fic, I’m going to TRY to put a chapter out every 2 weeks. I would prefer to do more, but I only have a couple hours a day and I want to not only make each of these chapters good quality, but I also want to make them fairly long and I’m trying to edit them! So yea, bi-weekly seems like the best course of action.

Anyways, enough with me. Thank you for reading WTWTY chapter 2, I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC, Young Justice and it’s places, stories, and characters all belong to DC Comics and the brilliant minds who created them.

Paris, France

April 16, 2008

2:46 CEST

The hospital was just like any other; blank white walls, the smell of disinfectant, the faint beeping of a heart monitor in the distance. Signs written in French were everywhere; showing directions, giving your regular everyday health registrations, maybe the occasional motivational poster. There was one area of the hospital however, that wasn't your typical everyday sight.

Standing by a window, looking in but trying to be stealthy about it, stood three adults. One, a dark-cloaked man whose cowl showed off two points shaped like bat-ears. Second, a woman with blonde hair wearing a leather jacket, a corset, and a pair of fishnet tights. Third, a male-humanoid robot with a bright red exterior, blue and gold cape, and a gold 'T’ shape on his chest. Had it not been nighttime, the three adults knew it wouldn't be safe for them where they were. But as it was nearly three in the morning, there was no danger for them in the hospital.

In the window in which they peeked, there was a young girl. Pale with freckles dusting her nose, big blue eyes, round cheeks, and long, light brown hair that fell in a messy, wavy, mess over her shoulders. She was awake, but extremely still. The only sign that she was even alive was the fact that she was sitting up on her own, her legs pulled up to her chest, and the tears that rolled down her cheeks. With her sat an older man in his mid-forties with greying brown hair, who sat in the chair beside the bed with his hand on the girl's back and a look of pained empathy on his face. There were also two boys, one older, and one younger than the girl.

The younger sat on the foot of the girl's bed, tears of his own flowing down as his hand lay on the girl's leg; and the older held a frown on his face as he leaned against the wall opposite the door, far away from the rest of the people.

“Are you sure this is the best time to do this?” The woman of the trio of adults asked. “She only just woke up and got the news.”

“The sooner we do, the better.” The cloaked man replied.

“She’s been through so much in just a few hours though.” The woman reasoned. “We could scare her off, or overwhelm her.”

“The emotions she feels now for what she's done are a good motivator to learn how to avoid it in the future. And the girl is on the spectrum, I have no doubt she's used to being overwhelmed.” The man in black countered.

Frustrated, the woman let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes. She knew she ought to have been used to her co-worker’s coldness by now, but it still amazed her at times like this.

“What's your say Red?” The blonde asked, looking up at her robotic comrade. “This is all your call, not to mention your idea.”

The robot was silent for a moment, as if lost in thought, but then replied.

“Batman is correct.” The red robot answered. “Raw emotions act as human's main motivators, it would be the most logical conclusion to ask now while the events of today are fresh. However, it would be foolish to go in without any thought to her emotional state. We should act thoughtfully and with care.”

“Leave it to you two to act like this is some sort of battle plan.” The woman muttered under her breath, but then brushed some hair out of her face before walking towards the door, leading the trio into the room. The moment the three heroes walked into the hospital room, every single one of its inhabitants looked up at them.

“Madam Canary, Monsieurs Batman and…” The older man in the room greeted, addressing the heroes but falling short on the name of the robotic individual he did not know.

“So you’ve finally decided to stop creepily watching from outside like stalkers?” The oldest of the children asked, his shoulders being pushed back to appear bigger.

The two men's French accents were thick, but their English was still clear.

“Calvin, watch your manners.” The oldest of the family stated strictly to the boy before standing and addressing the three strangers. “I apologize for my son, he can be quite protective.”

“It’s no problem, Monsieur Leduc, we understand completely.” The blonde woman, Canary, said. “We...understand that this can’t be an easy time for any of you.”

“Markus is fine, Mademoiselle Canary.” The greying man said with a small smile. “And please don’t worry about us, we just appreciate the help you three have shown in this...incident.”

“Why are you still here?” The youngest of the boys asked, sitting so his body shielded the girl’s. “She’s awake and physically well, she hasn’t started another storm since she awoke.”

“Are you going to arrest her for something she had no control over?” The older boy asked. The girl’s body curled in tighter around itself. “If you try to take her away from us, you should know our lawyer’s on his way.”

“We’re not taking her away. But I’m glad you brought up control.” Canary explained, she turned to motion to her robotic coworker. “This is Red Tornado, another member of the Justice League.

I don’t believe any of you got the chance to officially meet during the debacle.”

“You’re...the one that flew with a tornado around your waist.” The girl spoke quietly. “You helped return the winds back to their normal paths after…” her voice fell away.

“Not a very creative name.” The oldest boy remarked.

“My name was given to me by my creator.” Red Tornado explained, before facing the small girl.

“But yes, I hold the ability to control the air around me. Much like yourself.”

“Except I can’t control the Winds.” The girl said, frowning. “They controlled me. I created a level 3 tornado while I was in a coma, completely unaware. Or at least...that’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

“For now you may have no control over your abilities, but that’s why we’re here.” Canary said.

“Red Tornado, and the rest of us, have discussed the possibility of him taking Evangelina on as a protege.” The cloaked man, Batman, said bluntly.

“Protege?” The girl and her father asked in surprise.

“I would be willing to...take her under my wing, in a sense. I could teach her how to use her new-found abilities, train her to control and use them, make sure an accident of this nature doesn’t happen again.” Red Tornado explained.

“And I would be happy to help with the emotional aspect.” Black Canary added. “Powers are often strongly connected to emotions and mental states, and as my colleague...has some lack of experience with that aspect, it would be my pleasure to use my psychological background to assist in and way.”

“So you’d be brainwashing her into becoming another one of your ‘sidekicks’ like we see on the news? Put her in danger and make her fight your battles for you? She’s only 14!” The eldest brother protested, taking a step towards the heroes.

“Calvin.” Lina called, her voice quiet in nature but it cut through the room like a dagger. Her eyes were so full of confusion and grief that just by looking at them, her family automatically were flooded with a sense of guilt and empathy. It was probably because of this that the three men let the young girl speak out.

As she turned to the heroes, she scanned all three of them carefully. As if looking for something, but nobody knew for what.

“If I were to become your protege,” Lina started, “I would gain control over....all of this, right?

I wouldn’t ever...do that again?”

Canary saw her cloaked colleague shoot her a sly look and she felt a strong wave of annoyance at the man.

“That is the idea.” Red Tornado replied.

“From your report, you have a very different type of connection to, the Winds, as you called it.

But we’d certainly work on ensuring that you don’t lose control again.” Lina watched the robotic man carefully.

“You mean you’ll try to make sure I don’t end up creating a major natural disaster and end up causing hundreds of dollars in property damage, endangering the lives in the area, again.” Lina spoke with a strict tone, full of self-loathing.

“That is the idea.” Red Tornado repeated.

“You all should know that you won’t have to worry about the property damage.” Batman said, speaking for the first time since entering the room. “Wayne Enterprises has offered to take care of it.”

“The American company? Why?” Leo asked, frowning.

He never got a response.

“You should know, before we even consider this in any way-” Markus spoke up, “-my daughter, she...has some special needs…”

“Papa!” Lina’s head whipped around, her face growing pink.

“We’re already aware of your...learning disability.” Canary informed Lina, stepping closer to her.

At the term ‘disability’, the younger woman tensed and fidgeted with a strand of her hair. “But, fortunately, Wayne Enterprises has come through again.”

“What do you mean? Came through how?” Lina asked.

“Wayne Enterprises has been testing a new product in their health and medicine division.

It’s a type of autism medication that works to completely inhibit all symptoms and conditions for a few hours. It’s experimental, but completely tested and 100% safe.” Canary explained.

“You’ll have to talk about it with your doctors before you are even handed a dosage, and we don’t suggest using it until you’re well enough, but after you've gotten the 'okay’ you're going to have to speak with the head scientist about any side effects and limitations, but-””So not only are you trying to brainwash her into becoming one of your...child lackies, but you’re putting experimental chemicals filled with God knows what into her body?”

Calvin’s interjection was full of hostility as he stepped closer to the trio of heroes.

“We understand your concern, but we assure you-””Oh don’t give me that formal, robotic, bullsh-”

“I’ll do it.”

The whole room froze as, once again, Lina’s voice cut through the noise. She was looking at the heroes, her eyes dancing between Black Canary and the robot.

“You’ll...what?” Calvin guffawed.

Lina looked up, making direct eye contact. “You say you’ll teach me to control my...powers so this will never happen again? I’ll do it.” Lina explained. “I’m not too sure about this medicine, but I’ll consider it once I get an unbiased medical professional's opinion on it. But if you seriously think that you can teach me to control the Winds, well, I don’t really see a good alternative.”

“Lina, mon chou-”“It's my decision.” Lina said strictly, the pain in her eyes morphing into determination. Once a moment had passed, Markus sat back down.

After a quick beat, Red Tornado walked up over to Lina’s bed. Looking up at him, the French girl came to realize just how much bigger he was in comparison to herself. But then, the robot extended his hand. Smiling slightly, Lina took it and shook it firmly.

“I believe the proper statement to make here is 'Welcome aboard’.” Red Tornado said, and Lina could have sworn she heard a happy tone in his robotic voice.

Gotham City

April 16, 2008

16:00 EST

As Bruce Wayne sat at his desk, the desk that practically ruled over Gotham City, he let his mind wander. This was not an unusual occurrence for him, for either of his personas. Anyone who knew either the man in the suit, or the man in the cowl, knew that if Bruce Wayne ever got a far away look in his eye then he was already on a whole other planet. This however, didn't seem to stop the twelve year old boy in his office from chatting on in front of him.

“And then, ooh, and then the best part happens. The guy comes at me, all ‘oh you darn brat I'm going to kill you’ and firing at will, but he completely missed me! Stormtrooper-level missed me!

So once the guy's out of bullets, which takes like five seconds by the way, I-” the boy lets out a sound effect as he backflip-kicks and then lands perfectly back into a crouching position, “-the gun out of his hand and then-”he does another flip, this time going forwards, and then does a low spin-kick, “-knock him off his feet, just like you told me Bruce! Oh my god the face me made when he fell!”

The raven-haired boy looked over at the older man behind the desk, only to notice the far away look in his eyes and the slight frown on his face. The enthusiasm in the young boy leaks out as he realizes he's been talking to himself the whole time, before he stands up straight and fixes the tie of his school uniform.

“So...how'd that mission you went on last night go?” The boy asks, slowly stepping closer to Bruce. The man finally manages to snap out of his trance and focuses in on the twelve year old. “Freak tornado in Paris, right? You were out pretty late because of it.”

“Yes.” Bruce hums. “It went fine.”

After a long moment of silence, the boy's shoulders slag down as he realizes he's not going to get much more out of his guardian.

“I...think I'm going to go down to the cafeteria and get a snack, do you want anything?” The raven-haired boy asks as he begins to take a step towards the office door.

“Coffee please, black.” Bruce grunts.

“Black.” The boy chuckles. “What a surprise.” But just as he's about to leave through the door, it swings open. A tall man with slicked-back hair and a white lab coat steps in, carrying a small metal box with the famous 'W’ Wayne Enterprises insignia engraved on it.

“Oh, so sorry Mr. Grayson.” The man said, quickly standing to the side.

“No problem.” The boy shrugs, and motions for the man to pass him. The man nods and does so.

“Doctor Leon.” Bruce greets, standing up and walking around the desk. “I'm assuming this is the package I asked for?”

“Yes sir.” The doctor replied. “14 perfected doses of the newest updated serum.”

“Good, thank you very much.” Bruce replied, and lifted the lid off the box to reveal its content.

The syringes were small, sized for convenience, and full of a translucent blue liquid. As the boy strolled over, he looked high to take a peek at the box's contents. Bruce allowed this for only a moment before closing the box again.

“And you're sure this batch was the one that successfully went through human trials?” Bruce asked.

“Absolutely sir.” Leon nodded. “We just ran the last tests late last night so everything was already out and ready to be copied. Every single trial has proved to be a success thus far, which is why it was marked to be put on the market this time next year.”

“Yes…” Bruce hummed, looking down at the box. The far away look returned again, but this time only for a moment.

“Well, thank you again Doctor.”

“Not a problem at all Mr. Wayne.” Leon nodded, and then turned to walk out. “Have a good evening sir, Mr. Grayson.”

The moment the door shut behind Leon, the twelve year old sighed. “Being called 'Mr. Grayson’ is so...weird. I kind of wish people would just call me Dick, or even Richard.” The boy quickly turned his attention back to the box in Bruce's hands. “So, what's that? Who's it for?”

“Medical Treatment Serum 219, strand 9.4, version 8.” Bruce grunted. It only took Dick a moment before it clicked.

“The new autism inhibiting meds?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you need 14 doses of it?”

“It's not for me.” Bruce replied, placing the box on his desk. “And no, I'm not saying who it is for.

You'll meet them soon enough.”

Dick's eyes lit up and grew twice their size.

“I'll meet them soon enough? Oh come on! Now you have to tell me!”

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stopforamoment · 6 years ago

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Part Seven: Demonstrations (Series 18, Part 7 of 9)

Series Eighteen: The Conference, Day One (9 Parts) Part Seven: Demonstrations (Series 18, Part 7 of 9) My masterlist is at the end of my bio.

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three) Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OC Rinda Parks Word Count: 1,208 Rating: M for Language Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh. Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3 for always being my sounding board! Thank you @cora-nova @silviasutton1989 @bobasheebaby @riseandshinelittleblossom for being my thirsty Bastien friends and for still being a part of the journey! Series Summary: This focuses on day one of the conference and Rinda’s interactions as a professional, friend, and girlfriend.

Chapter Summary: We learn a little more about Rinda’s grandpa and events from her life in Wisconsin. This series takes place in the beginning/middle of November, before the French Yellow Vests demonstrations that started November 17, 2018. My thoughts and prayers to everyone who is affected by these events.

Demonstrations

“So Tria, you told me that you only know conversational French and that you learned it from Grandma Lorinda.”

Rinda nodded. “True story. My grandpa was born in France but came to America when he was a child, and his parents encouraged him to assimilate as quickly as possible. He wanted to know more about his homeland and culture, but his parents were adamant that he Americanized as soon as possible. They came when the depression hit France, around 1931, before the U.S. clamped down on its immigration quotas. They wanted to leave a lot of bad memories from their war behind and just have a better life, achieve the American Dream. “Anywho . . . he died when I was pretty young, so Grandma Lorinda was only able to pass along the basics. And even then, she spoke French with a very heavy German accent and it was very dated, from the 1940s. Those are some of the reasons I don’t consider my French to be very good—and why Nadia has so many great stories about my gaffs.”

Nadia gave her friend a warm smile. “Actually, Rinda’s French isn’t as bad as she says it is and she picked up a lot from our trips. It’s just that our trips to France were cross-categorical. It would be a literature class through the English department, an immersion experience through the foreign language department, and a chance to research a historical location for the history class. We would have students read boring academic articles in French, and that’s where Rinda struggled.” Nadia shrugged. “We all struggle with that boring shit, even though part of being an academic is to pretend to love—and understand—that crap.”

“So where would you go, and Nadia, do you still do the tour with students?”

Nadia smiled at Drake. “Château des Milandes. It’s in France’s Aquitaine region, near the Dordogne River.” Nadia laughed. “And before you even ask, it’s about a six-, maybe seven-hour drive from Paris. At one point the château was owned by Josephine Baker, who was a prominent entertainer during the Harlem Renaissance.” Nadia nodded toward Rinda. “That’s Rinda’s main area of study, although she also helped me teach some of the French classics.”

Rinda nudged Bastien and whispered in his ear. “She did a famous banana dance. True story!” Then she winked, knowing how much he hated bananas.

Nadia arched her brows but turned back to Drake. “She used the château during World War II to hide Jewish refugees and stash weapons for the French Resistance. That’s where the history department focused, and Rinda helped with that too.” Rinda quickly interrupted before Nadia could say anything else. “Yup. I’m a history dork and my grandpa was born in that area. I seriously geeked out in the historical records building whenever we went.”

Drake laughed. “So what did you do, Nadia?”

Nadia waved her hand in the air and assumed an air of ennui.

“I got drunk on wine, ate good food, and spoke French. That was my cultural contribution.” She smirked. “But all of that is over. Too many budget cuts, so I moved back to France. My wife is an American and was reluctant to leave, but it was the best choice we ever made.” She looked at Rinda. “I know things weren’t easy when you left, and I missed you, but you left at the right time. From a professional standpoint, there’s nothing left for you there and everything for you here.” She reached across the table to squeeze Rinda’s hand. “I’m so happy for you.”

“And I’m happy for you and Kathleen.”

The ladies smiled before Nadia turned back to Drake. “Your question about if we do the trip anymore. Since I’m not at the university I won’t do the trip anymore, but I don’t even know if they can do the trip for very much longer because of budget cuts and limited course offerings. And especially this year.”

Rinda nodded. “Jacques called me a few days ago to check if people from the university were still making the trip. A lot will happen between now and January, but he was worried about us. It sounds like there are constant demonstrations in Marseille and although we should be safe by the château he didn’t recommend going into Paris with students. Even during the week.”

Rinda felt the slight change of Bastien’s body posture when she said that, so she continued the conversation. “Nadia, what have you heard?”

Nadia smiled. “Well, you know me and Kathleen. We do plan on joining a gilets jaunes demonstration next Saturday. I want to make a difference without violence and I want to be a part of such a historical movement. I haven’t done anything like that since Act 10.” She sighed. “I’m opposed to Macron, but I’m not an extremist. I want to be supportive, but I’m sure it will go on longer and be more violent than we are prepared to deal with.”

Act 10. One of Scott Walker’s first acts as governor of Wisconsin, the start of the teacher demonization and the beginning of the end of the state’s education system as Rinda knew it. No more collective bargaining for teachers, so thousands of teachers went to the state capitol to protest. Rinda went for one day, on a weekend, to be a part of the experience. She didn’t want to leave her classroom, and even though it was exhilarating to be a part of something so big and so historical, she was afraid the entire time. Many people brought their children so they could experience the history. Perhaps if Henry were older she would have brought him, but it only took one person to destroy a peaceful demonstration. It was always in the back of her mind, and it terrified her.

Jameson went too, for several days. Extra security was needed to protect the protesters, so local departments across the state sent officers to help. Jameson walked the halls while protesters slept, making sure they were safe and their personal belongings were secure. It only took one person to start a chain reaction that would turn a demonstration into an insurrection. There was one day when Jameson had to stand next to piles of protesters’ personal belongings “to guard them.” But Jameson saw the bomb sniffing dogs carefully examine every pile. It only took sick fuck, with one explosive device . . .

It was a lot of overtime pay and they squirreled it away, knowing Rinda’s job security was in question for as long as Walker remained governor. But Rinda was relieved when the demonstrations were over, even though nothing changed and Act 10 still happened. Jameson was home safe with her and Henry.

In Wisconsin they were lucky. But in France? “Nadia, please be safe. You and Kathleen.” She shrugged, her way of trying to physically shake a bad feeling. “When it’s finally over we all need to make a trip to Château des Milandes. Laura too. And this time just wine and good food. No students. I might even limit my geek out in the historical records.”

Bastien smiled as he leaned down to kiss Rinda. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

#long post #bastien lykel #choices trr #rinda parks ofc #series eighteen

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nothingbetterthanblog · 5 years ago

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Pancakes: you gotta jive if you wanna shrive in Pancake Land (plus my special banana pancake recipe).

(For the recipe, scroll to the end!)

You know that scene in Matilda where she makes pancakes and dances to ’Send me on my way’ by Rusted Root? It’s the most groovy scene ever. Not only because we see Matilda’s awesome magic powers, but despite all odds, she has such a good vibe. Music, pancakes and magic. Brilliant start to a film.

I try to recreate that scene a little every time I make pancakes, because why wouldn’t you? It feels good to indulge in a bit of kitchen boogying and to spend some time imagining that I’m a fictional, magical child that is a lot cooler than myself. She’s got super powers for goodness sake. So we know that pancakes are whimsical, fun, and need a little bit of magic to send you on your way, but they also remind me of birthdays. From as early as I can remember all the way up to the present day, my birthday morning has usually gone like this: demolish an obscene amount of pancakes (upwards of ten), then decide that I shouldn’t have another one because really that would be the one that made this whole debacle appear greedy, and at this ripe old age I should really be keeping it classy.

Hands down, my favourite part in the pancake-making regime, is dancing along while you’re going. I’d go as far as saying that it’s part of the recipe and it truly makes the pancakes taste a lot better. I advise that you come up with a dance that works for you. My pancake-making dance is very silly, a little intrusive, and looks about 50% more awkward than is actually funny. But it does make me happy, and that’s the point. When I was at university in Birmingham, there were far too many essay questions being thrown around, and far too many wonderful nights spent watching Gilmore Girls with my housemates. This perfect procrastination often caused what I can only describe as “a week from hell” towards the end of term, in which we attempted to smash those deadlines. The only way we got through the work was to have frequent “dance breaks” in which we chose to dramatically boogie to either a Taylor Swift or Beyonce song. The sheer physical exertion and hilarity of star-jumping around to “Countdown”, or “We Are Never Getting Back Together”, meant that our spirits were lifted, and we remembered that life can be fun too. This is the purest example I can give to show you what the pancake dance is all about. And thanks to social distancing, it’s unlikely that anyone else will see your crazy moves, so go wild!

DISCLAIMER: In this next section I relate pancakes to social distancing in a way that makes this blog not only 100% relevant, but also #relatable. It’s gonna be great.

So, there’s a pandemic going on at the moment, and we’re all staying at home. Yes, I am bringing up the elephant in the room. The elephant is in the room because she has to stay at home for the time being, due to the current climate. We’re all very worried at times, hyper at other times, and, let’s face it, just as freaked out and grumpy as we usually are the rest of the time. And quite frankly, it’s not helping the situation having elephants in every room, and it’s starting to get really cramped. Who knows what the best reaction to this is? Should we throw our arms up into the air, frantically run around the room, and scream “CAROLE BASKIN!” in a southern accent? Perhaps, yes. We can’t expect ourselves to react perfectly or normally to this very imperfect and abnormal situation.

Take pancakes, for example. The first one’s the throw-away. What a beautiful saying to provide you with confidence even in the face of complete failure. “Don’t worry if that pancake is terrible, that always happens the first time! In fact, here in Pancake Land we welcome you to fall flat on your face at the very first hurdle! Yes, that literal hurdle just there, right in front of you now, just beyond the gates into Pancake Land. That hurdle represents your first pancake which will be burnt on the outside whilst somehow raw in the middle. But if it does, that just means it’s working. You’re fitting in wonderfully in Pancake Land!”. I love applying this approach to any situation. It’s not a new idea, it’s just accepting that nothing is perfect. We’ve never had to stay at home on this scale before, so I say we see it as the first, shitty pancake. The first pancake, that we choose to put all of our effort into, and yet it turns around to bite us in the butt. And it happens to us all. That’s pretty much where this analogy ends because fingers crossed, after the coronavirus outbreak ends, we won’t throw another one on the heat just to churn out a more successful pandemic. All I’m saying is, there’s no right way to do this, so let’s stick together, spread the joy, and spread some magic on those pancakes in true Matilda style.

Finally, for when you’re next feeling crêpe (I’m sorry, I just had to…), below is my own special recipe for very delicious banana pancakes, just for you. Indulge in the whimsical, shake your sexy hips, and enjoy frying up a breakfast that you love. Whether you prefer that fluffy american style, if you like to chomp on chocolatey chunks, or if you’re feeling french, there’s nothing better than pancakes.

Grace’s 5-Step Banana Pancakes

YOU WILL NEED:

1 funky album that makes dancing and smiling irresistible to you (my recommendations: Brothers & Sisters by Lakuta, Geography by Tom Misch, Graceland by Paul Simon) 2 bananas 2 eggs 5 tbsp of self-raising flour (approx.) 1/2 cup of milk 1 big sprinkle of cinnamon (approx.) A big pinch of salt Unlimited butter for the pan (obvs.)

Recipe for 5-6 big, fluffy pancakes… multiply those quantities for more joy.

METHOD:

Step 1: Put on your fabulous album and start to groove.

Step 2: Mash the bananas in a bowl and beat in the eggs and the milk.

Step 3: Gradually add the self raising flour and beat with a fork. I normally follow my intuition here - you want a reasonably thick and gloopy consistency, but not too thick. We are aiming for lovely fluffy boys after all. Add more flour if it’s too thin.

Step 4: Add your cinnamon and a big pinch of salt, with some panache baby!

Step 5: Cook ‘em up! Heat your pan up at a low heat with a knob of butter in there, then drop half a ladle of batter onto the pan and sing “Woohoo!”. Flip when you feel funky, or when you see the top starting to show air holes.

Keep droppin’ that sweet, sweet batter and flipping those ‘cakes till you just don’t care! Serve with yummy toppings like blueberries, icing sugar, golden syrup or nutella for the ultimate delish treat.

#pancakes #banana pancakes #recipe #pancake day #shrove tuesday #self isolation #social distancing #quarantine #cooking #cake #baking #positivity #nobody's perfect

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vol-au-vending-machine · 8 years ago

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X Ways in Which The Capitol of Panem is economically, culturally, socially, politically and spiritually different from the C21 USA (apart from the obvious)

Above: The Treaty of Treason is written at least partially in Latin! My headcanon has some evidence!

Written for and dedicated to @orsino because I seem to remember promising you this worldbuilding headcanon ages and ages ago.

Also for @99thpercentile and @plvtarch and @chizuu bc y’all ladies also seem to like my hunger gamesy stuff. Warning this is a long post. Looooong. You have been warned, nerds.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. None of this is explicitly proved in the books or movies canon, but as far as I know at no point in canon is any of this explicitly disproven. I made these worldbuilding headcanons up because I am a nerd who loves worldbuilding and playing around with social structure and demography and stuff. Feel free to agree with or disagree with these headcanons. Sorry not sorry.

CONTENT WARNING: It’s Panem. I will be mentioning suicide, execution, mental health, cremation, child abuse, vomiting. Just to warn you. I will be handling it relatively clinically, not with anecdotes or details.

I. Different language/s

Panem doesn't actually speak English, they speak American, which is mostly American English but + quite a lot of Spanish + a dollop of Chinese + a spoonful of Japanese + a sprinkling of various Native American languages + a dash of Russian + a slice of French. Shake well and serve.

It’s a mishmash of languages, so it is distinct from modern day American English like Shakespearean is to modern day American English.

We know new words have been invented like nightlock and tracker jacker. These are the words that don’t get translated from their Panem American to American English.

The movies and books were produced originally in English, but none of the characters ever actually refer to the language they’re speaking.

Unlike the districts, which speak just American, albeit with accents (Mags in the books has a very strong D4 accent, for example) the Capitol also has Latin as a second language, the language of politics and diplomacy. Streets signs are in Latin and American and are referred to by both names interchangeably, eg, Via Appia and Appian Way. Literature is printed in both languages. Schoolchildren are taught to speak Latin as well as American, although the wealthy Capitolites are taught to read and write in it (the lower classes can read and write, but usually only in American.) Trials are conducted in Latin.

When the Capitol makes an official broadcast to the nation, it is recorded twice: once in Latin for the Capitolites, once in American for everyone else. The Games however, are all in American because the whole country watches them.

All of the laws of Panem are produced in the Capitol and are all written in Latin, like the Treaty of Treason (see above.) Because the Districts can’t speak Latin, this prevents them from mounting any legal case against or even within the Capitol. The Capitol’s Latin-phone unelected lawyers have a tight grip on the law because they have the greatest command of the language, more than Latin-illiterate Capitolites and certainly more than District citizens, even victors.

Capitol citizens speak Latin with a different accent depending on class. Patricians (upper class Capitolites) pronounce “v”s as “w”s and “ae”s as “eye.” Plebeians (lower class Capitolites) pronounce “v”s as “v”s and “ae”s as “ay” as in “Sundae”. Patricians tend to speak Latin with a heavier Latinate accent distinct from their American, while Plebeians speak Latin with their American accent.

II. Burying the dead is not the done thing

In the districts, almost everybody is buried in graves. Tributes in the books are referred to as being sent home “in a wooden crate” as far as I can remember. The exception is D4, where the dead are buried at sea. D1 and D2 are the most culturally similar to the Capitol, but even there the dead are cremated 26% and 30% of the time respectively. In the Capitol, almost everyone is cremated in a mater of days after death. Embalming is seen as icky because dead bodies are ew. Executed criminals have their corpses fed to mutts as a sign of disrespect and as part of their sentence, after they’ve been experimented on by Capitol scientists. Avoxes are cremated and have their ashes scattered in the winds. Capitol citizens are cremated and their ashes poured into white vase-like urns held in mausoleums. The lid of the urn is stamped with the Capitol seal in black, along with the name and dates of the contents. The sides of the urn are often painted with beautiful colourful symbols or scenes depicting the life of the deceased. A lawyer might have a set of scales, a teacher a mortarboard, a florist a bouquet. Rings if they married, a cradle if they had children. Favourite poems or quotations may be written on the side as well. Actually rather beautiful. Earlier urns have simpler designs; and a sign of wealth is how decorated the urn is.

Cremation is encouraged by the elite because it is very convenient for them: if you’ve poisoned your enemies, an autopsy can prove how they died. If they’re cremated, evidence is destroyed. It is in the interests of murderous politicians to make it culturally ubiquitous to cremate the dead soon after death.

Presidents are a different matter, as their ashes are forged into jewellery. (Rather like the Crown Jewels, only no crowns because Panem is a republic). It is considered good luck for the president to wear their predecessors because that basically imbues them with the greatness of the dead president, according to superstition. This gets super weird if they murdered a predecessor because they basically wear their victim but only they know they’re wearing someone they killed. Creepy af.

The dead president-jewellery has very strict rules of ownership. Although they can be borrowed and worn by the incumbent President or their family and technically are state property, each piece is held in safekeeping by the dead President in question’s (the one who is in the piece of jewellery in question) widow/er, or if their is no widow/er (or once the widow/er is dead) it is held by the President’s oldest living child (who may or may not be the widow/er’s child-if not, the widow/er still has initial custody of the jewels, before passing on to the President’s oldest living child) -and then their oldest child and then their oldest child and so on and so forth.

This is why, in the Capitol, the Girl on Fire is exponentially more potent as a symbol and Katniss is such an obsession. Fire is a symbol of the inevitability of death in the Capitol. Everybody “goes to the flames” in the end, because they are all cremated.

Fire is a symbol of light- and life- and war- and death. This makes Katniss’ victory subconsciously inevitable in the symbolic and cultural mind of the Capitol. As a symbol of purification- and destruction. This is part of the reason for their obsession with her and fire. Cinna, you brilliant genius with your sophisticated understanding of historic cultural symbolism.

III. University education is much less common

Not much to say here. Higher education is mostly used for specialists like scientists or doctors or lawyers. You only do your major. Gamemakers leave school at 17 and apprentice for two years. Academically inclined people stay on until 19, most leave school at 16. The fewer years of schooling are however made up for by the fact that while school is very relaxed if you’re middle class like Effie Trinket (her neglected education is demonstrated by the whole coal-pearls debacle) because you aren’t expected to have a high-pressure job, if you're upper class school is much more intensive: longer hours, faster pace, higher standards, shorter holidays. If you’re Capitol working class, your education is at least practical. If you’re middle class and you can read and write in American, know the terms of the Treaty of Treason, speak Latin, can fold napkins, host a dinner party, apply eyeliner, sing Horn of Plenty in tune and by heart, place the districts on a map and name their industries and list the presidents, you’re about as educated as you really need to be. If you’re upper class and you're not obedient and academically inclined, school is gonna suck. The best education resources are devoted to upper class children because they form the elite that runs the entire country.

If the elite is unprepared or untrained and can’t supply enough able judges, lawyers, journalists, politicians, economists, scientists, gamemakers, bureaucrats for each generation, capable of renewing Capitol hegemony, the very foundations of Capitolite power and stability is shaken. This means that...

IV. Corporal punishment in schools is A-OK.

Granted, you can’t torture your students or beat them to death, but Capitolites are clearly unbothered by violence against children (to a degree.) Capolite children aren't treated anywhere nearly as badly as District children, obviously.

But if they’re inattentive, lazy or unruly, the teacher is practically encouraged to get the cane, or the strap, or even just the ruler. There are some rules- no bare buttock beating- the palm is considered the best place to hit- no breaking bones. Discipline is vital in Capitolite education because their elite rely on it. Corporal punishment is stricter in upper class schools. This is another reason why it is actually better to a middle class than an upper class Capitol citizen. The middle classes don't work, are under little pressure, have fun in school, have a nice but less hedonistic lifestyle and aren't in danger of being murdered by political rivals.

V. “Heirs to Rome”

The Capitol consider themselves the heirs to the Pax Americana but also the Roman Empire. (Empire- not Republic.) This caused a culture war back when the Capitol was conquering the districts. (Speaking of the districts: they are numbered in the order they were established under Capitol rule. D1 and D2 are closest to the Capitol geographically and culturally bc they were annexed first. D3 is the odd one out: an early district, but not a Career one. This is because D3 was originally much bigger and included what became D6. D3, referred historically as District 3+, was too big and too populous for the Capitol to effectively rule. Even by the 75th HG, D6 has over half of the population of Panem- approx. 750k people, out of a population of about 2m. The Capitol has 98k, in comparison, by the 75th HG. 3+ was even larger, so the Capitol split 3+ in two and redrew the borders around 3 and 6. The people who happened to live in what became the lands between 3 and 6 were evicted and transported en masse- at great costs to resources, human life and wellbeing- all the way to an uninhabited stretch of territory southwest of the Capitol which was established as D5. This is why D6 is next to D3 on the map and why they have similar industries both heavily reliant on D5. D7 is closer to the Capitol than some other districts, but was annexed relatively late bc D7 is a cold region of warrior-like peoples doggedly resistant to invasion- makes conquest hard without lots of resources. D9, D10 and D11 were all one big rural kingdom of the south that had to be split to control it, hence cultural and economic similarities between the three. D13 used to rule D12 as their own district/empire/serfdom and when the Capitol fought 13, 12 was the battleground. The people of 12 weren’t free even before the Capitol annexed them. In fact, D12 was burned to the ground three times: firstly when it was conquered by the Capitol, secondly during the Dark Days; and of course, most famously, after the 2nd QQ.)

This culture war featured two distinct groups: Romanophiles- Make The Capitol Ancient Rome Come Again and the Americanaphiles- Make The Capitol America Come Again. Colloquially- and with unusual irreverence- Capitol citizens refer to this as the era of “Togas versus Burgers.” Eventually, the Cultural Compromise was established, which each side getting some of what they wanted. The Romanophiles got districts not states, the status of Latin, the name Panem. Americanaphiles got red not purple for the flag, American as vernacular language, dollars as currency, President not emperor. Both sides wanted the eagle as the seal and the name Capitol.

Basically, the Capitolites model themselves after the Romans: they see Roman civilization as the Best Thing Ever, so if the Ancient Romans or the Ancient Greeks did it, it has been stamped as acceptable. (Never mind what actual Romans like my boi Cicero had to say about it- or if it ever actually happened, like the whole vomitoria thing.)

VI. Mean life expectancy is actually lower

More Capitolites live to be 100, but many many many Capitolites die young. This drags the mean down until it is lower than the mean of the US because means are affected by outliers.

There aren't enough resources for healthcare for a start because the military takes up such a huge chunk of the Capitol’s state-allocated resources, as does education and architecture and law enforcement. The majority of chemical and research resources are used for weapons and tech: not pharmaceuticals. This is why D12 specialises in medicine production after the Revolution. There aren't enough medicines to go around already. Healthcare is advanced, but not a priority.

Also, Capitolite hedonists are oversexed, eat too much, drink too much and abuse substances with literally nobody telling them to stop or warning them about the health problems that this causes and a hedonistic culture that glorifies excess. Many die at 40 or 50 because they shot their liver or busted their heart from choices made in their impetuous youth. Inducing vomiting frequently is also scientifically proven to be bad for you because of stomach acid. It irritates and scars your oesophagus, gives you stomach ulcers, rots your teeth, gives you bad breath. Niiiice. The Capitol is famous for this kind of binge-and-purge partying.

Execution, murder and suicide are also big early killers. Suicide in particular is actually encouraged as an honourable and selfless way out for failed humiliated patricians, or in general, to “take the Roman bath.” This is worsened by the fact that physical healthcare resources are strained, but mental healthcare is non-existent. You essentially have to get better on your own or stay ill. Dr Aurelius is considered the best, presumably, because he’s assigned to Katniss- and s/he falls asleep on the job. Telling.

If you’re lucky enough not to fall ill mentally, good standards of living and clean air helps you to old age. But if you're adolescent, your life expectancy is actually lower than the middle aged because you are at your most vulnerable- to mental illness, stress and bad life choices. If you can make it to 35, odds are you’ll live a long life. But dying before then, or shortly after is not rare.

VII. Vaccination is compulsory. No exceptions. Ever.

The Capitol has actually done some tiny shred of good for public health, in that all must be vaccinated for certain diseases. The state overrules the parent, always. Standing in the way of vaccination is standing in the way of the Capitol, so anti-vaxxing is practically sedition. Not out of morality, mind you. Starvation is not a problem because starvation isn't contagious like smallpox or polio. D6 suffered particularly badly in epidemics due to overcrowding. This has caused generational trauma, which is why morphling addiction is so common- as pain relief, because many D6 residents have chronic and painful health problems because their mothers conceived them when sick; and their mothers conceived them when sick and so on.

Having said that, herd immunity is not a mitigating factor. If the vaccine kills you, too bad. No exceptions. And no lollipops.

VIII. Hardly any cars

Cars in the Capitol are like luxury yachts or a private jet. For the elite. They are produced in D6 which already has to produce (albeit with a huge workforce)tyres, signals, engines, petrol, train tracks, trains, hovercraft, tanks, trucks, the Rocky Mountains ski lifts... and they have to manage the rail network that spans a continent. Cars are not a priority, especially as the Capitol is a city, so walking is the most common mode of transport, followed by the subway for long distances across the country. During the cold mountainous winters, subways are the lifeblood of the city. What cars there are, are colourful fancy status symbols. The President has two cars! Two!

IX. The streets have a strict dress code

If you want to wear your “sweatpants” and trainers outside, you may as well streak. You are accepted to dress smartly in fresh clothes, no matter the season, with make-up, tidy hair, jewellery, polished shoes- even if you’re popping to the shops. The streets are a public, formal space- bare of litter, neatly and evenly paved and spotlessly clean- to show off your look. If there’s a ladder in your stockings, or a stain on your tie, go seat in the corner and reflect on your sins. And don't expect a party invitation until the seasons change.

X. One party, one bank, one TV channel

Panem is a corporate economy, not a free market. The industries in the districts are run by Capitol monopolies, which operate on behalf of the government. There is no Wall Street, because there is no Street. Just Wall. The Capitol Central Bank alone mints the currency, sets District wages, regulates industry, funds the public services, sets work hours, receives fines, decides quotas, hires and fires, receives petitions to set up businesses, grants licences to set up those businesses, supplies the resources to do so. They're a huge institution and a big employer of Capitol citizens. Running a business without their licencing is illegal and punishable by death, Capitol or District, though licences can be inherited in family businesses like the Mellark Bakery. The Central Bank is the sole source of legal money and the Capitol can make you destitute by putting your family on the blacklist- no chance of you or your family for five generations getting any credit at all, or a business licence, a job, a pension. Your assets stripped and reallocated. Defaulting on a debt to the Bank means the blacklist- or enlisting in the Peacekeepers to forgive your debt and save any descendants you might have (20 years as a Peacekeeper usually more than covers the average debt- with profit to the Bank, which doesn’t have to pay any wages to an indentured Peacekeeper after bed and board are covered.)

The Chair of the Board of the Capitol Central Bank is the most powerful person in Panem after the President and along with the Chief Peacekeeper because of their economic supremacy. Often the Chair is related by blood or marriage to the President, as overmighty Chairs have been a huge threat to the President’s power as they have the purse strings to hang you with. Some Chairs have become Presidents themselves. The older of President Snow’s two legitimate daughters is the Chair when the Revolution happens and is consequently executed by Thirteen when the Capitol falls.

One TV Channel, Capitol TV, broadcasts the Games, which take up such a huge amount of resources due to their insane scale, that all other TV programmes are essentially B-movie budget. No Golden Age of TV, no Netflix, no 24 hour TV coverage. One news programme, one weather, one pro-government commentating, a handful of low budget soap operas, radio plays, the Games. That’s it. Strict censorship laws render art toothless, making the circuses not that circus-y, and making Hunger Games obsession more intense because there is literally nothing else good on TV. Channel surfing is taboo when the Games are on. Fun times to live in.

#orsino #thg #hunger games #worldbuilding #headcanon #the capitol #panem

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clubofinfo · 7 years ago

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Expert: Western culture is clearly obsessed with rules, guilt, submissiveness and punishment. By now it is clear that the West is the least free society on Earth. In North America and Europe, almost everyone is under constant scrutiny: people are spied on, observed, their personal information is being continually extracted, and the surveillance cameras are used indiscriminately. Life is synchronized and managed. There are hardly any surprises. One can sleep with whomever he or she wishes (as long as it is done within the ‘allowed protocol’). Homosexuality and bisexuality are allowed. But that is about all; that is how far ‘freedom’ usually stretches. Rebellion is not only discouraged, it is fought against, brutally. For the tiniest misdemeanors or errors, people end up behind bars. As a result, the U.S. has more prisoners per capita than any other country on Earth, except the Seychelles. And as a further result, almost all conversations, but especially public discourses, are now being controlled by so-called ‘political correctness’ and its variants. But back to the culture of fear and punishment. Look at the headlines of the Western newspapers. For example, The New York Times from April 12. 2018: “Punishment of Syria may be harsher this time”. We are so used to such perverse language used by the Empire that it hardly strikes us as twisted, bizarre, pathological. It stinks of some sadomasochistic cartoon, or of a stereotypical image of an atrocious English teacher holding a ruler over a pupil’s extended hands, shouting, “Shall I?” Carl Gustav Jung described Western culture, on several occasions, as a “pathology”. He did it particularly after WWII, but he mentioned that the West had been committing terrible crimes in all parts of the world, for centuries. That is most likely why the Western mainstream psychiatrists and psychologists have been glorifying the ego-centric and generally apolitical Sigmund Freud, while ignoring, even defaming, Carl Gustav Jung. Poster of human zoo at Military Museum in Paris (Photo: Andre Vltchek) The extreme form of sadism is a medical condition; it is an illness. And the West has been clearly demonstrating disturbing and dangerous behavioral patterns for many centuries. Let’s look at the definition of sadism, or professionally, Sadistic Personality Disorder (SPD), which both the United States and Europe could easily be diagnosed with. This is an excerpt of a common definition of the SPD, which appears in Medigoo.com and on many other on-line sites: …The sadistic personality disorder is characterized by a pattern of gratuitous cruelty, aggression, and demeaning behaviors which indicate the existence of deep-seated contempt for other people and an utter lack of empathy. Some sadists are “utilitarian”: they leverage their explosive violence to establish a position of unchallenged dominance within a relationship… It is familiar, isn’t it? The Empire’s behavior towards Indochina, China, Indonesia, Africa, Latin America, Russia, the Middle East and other parts of the world. US sponsored coup in Chile on 9-11-1973 (Photo: Andre Vltchek) What about the symptoms? …Sadistic individuals have poor behavioral controls, manifested by a short temper, irritability, low frustration tolerance, and a controlling nature. From an interpersonal standpoint, they are noted to be harsh, hostile, manipulative, lacking in empathy, cold-hearted, and abrasive to those they deem to be their inferiors. Their cognitive nature is considered rigid and prone to social intolerance, and they are fascinated by weapons, war, and infamous crimes or perpetrators of atrocities. Sadists classically are believed to seek social positions that enable them to exercise their need to control others and dole out harsh punishment or humiliation… Just translate “sadistic individuals” to “sadistic states”, or “sadistic culture”. Is there any cure? Can a sadist be effectively and successfully treated? Treating a sadistic personality disorder takes a long time… And many sites and publications carry a clear disclaimer: The above information is for processing purpose. The information provided herein should not be used during any medical emergency… And humanity is right now clearly at the crossroads, facing annihilation, not only a ‘medical emergency’. The world may soon have to literally fight for its survival. It is because of the SPD of the West and its Empire. ***** So, what is in store for us now; for instance, for Syria? What will the sadistic psychopath do to a country that refused to kneel, to prostitute itself, to beg for mercy, to sacrifice its people? How horrible will the “punishment” be? We have just witnessed 103 missiles being fired towards Damascus and Homs. But that is only what the Empire did to entertain its masses. It has been doing much more evil and cruel things to the nation which constantly refuses to glorify the Western imperialist and its neocon dogmas. For instance, the Empire’s ‘professionals’ have been manufacturing, training and arming the most atrocious terrorist groups and injecting them into the body of Syria. The torture will, of course, continue. It clearly appears that this time the script will be based on some latter adaptation of the Marquise de Sade’s work, on his novel Juliette, not Justine. You see, in Justine, women were ‘only’ tied up, slapped and raped. In Juliette, they were cut to pieces, alive; they were burned and mutilated. While Justine can still be read, no normal human being could go through the 700 pages of pure gore that is Juliette. But our planet has somehow got used to the horrors that have been administered by the sick Western Empire. People watch occurrences in places like Afghanistan, Syria, Iraq or Libya as ‘news’, not as the medical record of a severely ill psychiatric patient. The most terrible ‘novel’ in the history of our Planet has been written, for centuries, by the appalling brutality and sadism of first Europe and then by its younger co-author – the United States. And the human beings in many parts of our Planet have gotten so used to the carnage which surrounds them that they do not throw up anymore; they do not feel horrified, do not revolt against their fate. They just watch, as one country after another falls; is violated publicly, gets ravaged. The mental illness of the perpetrator is undeniable. And it is contagious. Names of, and photos of, murdered Chilean people by pro-US military junta (Photo: Andre Vltchek) In turn, the extreme violence that has been engulfing the world has triggered various neuroses and mental conditions (masochism, extreme forms of submission, to name just two of many) among the victims. ***** Exposure to the constant and extreme violence ‘prescribed’ and administered by the West, has left most of the world in a neurotic lethargy. Like a woman locked in a marriage with a brutal religious fanatic husband in some oppressive society, the world has eventually stopped resisting against the Western dictates and tyranny, and ‘accepted its fate’. Many parts of the planet have developed ‘Stockholm Syndrome’: after being kidnapped, imprisoned, tormented, raped and humiliated, the victims have ‘fallen in love’ with their tyrant, adopting his worldview, while serving him full-heartedly and obediently. This arrangement, of course, has nothing to do with the healthy or natural state of things! Poster of Human Zoo at Military Museum, Paris (Photo: Andre Vltchek) In Africa, Latin America, the Middle East and Asia, bizarre things are happening! People from those nations that have been robbed and devastated for centuries by the European and North American despots, have been flying happily and proudly to Paris, Berlin, London, Madrid, New York and other Western cities, in order to ‘learn’, to ‘study’ how to govern their own countries. There is usually no shame, and no stigma attached to such obvious intellectual prostitution. Many victims are still dreaming about becoming like their victimizers, or even more so. Many former and modern-day colonies of the West are listening, with straight faces, to the Europeans preaching to them (for a fee) about ‘good governance’, an ‘anti-corruption drive’ and ‘democracy’. The media outlets of non-Western nations are taking news reports directly from Western press agencies. Even local political events are explained by those ‘wise’ and ‘superior’ Europeans and North Americans, not by the local thinkers. Locals are hardly ever trusted – only white faces with polished English, French or German accents are taken seriously. Perverse? Is it perverse? Of course, it is! Many servile intellectuals from the ‘client’ states, when confronted, admit how sick the continuous global dictatorship is. Then they leave the table and continue to do what they have been doing for years and decades; the oldest profession in short. Freedom Equality Brotherhood. For French maybe but not for colonized Vietnamese (Photo: Andre Vltchek) Such a situation is truly insane. Or at least it is extremely paradoxical, bizarre, absurd. Even a mental clinic appears to make more sense than our beloved planet Earth. However, clinical psychiatrists and psychologists are very rarely involved in analyzing the neuroses and psychological illnesses of the brutalized and colonized planet. They hardly ever ‘analyze’ the perpetrators, let alone expose them for what they really are. Most of psychologists and psychiatrists are busy digging gold: encouraging human egotism, or even serving big corporations that are trying to ‘understand their employees better’, in order to control and to exploit them more effectively. Other ‘doctors’ go so far as to directly serve the Empire, helping to oppress and to ‘pacify’ the billions living in the colonies and new colonies of the West. In 2015, I was invited as one of the speakers to the 14th International Symposium on the Contributions of Psychology to Peace, held in Johannesburg and Pretoria, South Africa (hosted by legendary UNISA). During that fascinating encounter of the leading global psychologists, I spoke about the impact of wars and imperialism on the human psyche, but I also listened, attentively. And I learned many shocking things. For instance, during his chilling presentation, “Human Rights and U. S. Psychologists’ Wrongs: The Undermining of Professional Ethics in an Era of ‘Enhanced Interrogation’”, Professor Michael Wessells from Columbia University, New York, spoke about U.S. psychologists and their participation in torturing political prisoners. Instead of diagnosing the Empire with SPD and other violent and dangerous conditions, many psychologists are actually helping to torture those who are opposing this unacceptable arrangement of the world. ***** Those who refuse to ‘learn from the West’, to fall in love with it, or at least to serve it faithfully, are being brutally punished. Lashes are hitting exposed flesh. Entire nations are being destroyed, genocides distributed to all continents. East Timor, Afghanistan, Iraq: it never stops. I follow the discourses of the US and especially British UN delegations, ‘discussing’ Syria and even Russia. What comes to my mind is Punjab in India. I recall those old, historic photos of Indian men being hanged by the Brits, pants down, and flogged in public. Flogging-on-Punjabi-man-by-British-colonialist They have been doing this kind of stuff for centuries. They like it. It clearly excites them. This is their democracy, their respect for human rights and for other cultures! If someone refuses to take his or her pants down, they catch the person, rape him or her, then do the flogging anyway. I also recall what my Ugandan friend used to tell me: When the Brits came to Africa, to what is now Uganda, their army would enter our villages and first thing they’d do was to select the tallest and strongest man around. They’d then tie him up, face towards the tree. Then the British commander would rape, sodomize him in front of everybody. This was how they showed the locals who is charge. Brits enjoying Africa How symbolic! How healthy is the culture that has been controlling our world for centuries! One of the most frightening things about mental illnesses is that the patient usually does not realize that he or she is suffering from them. It is about the time for the rest of the world to treat the West as a mental patient, not as the ‘leader of the free and democratic world’. We have to think, to gather, to develop a strategy of how to deal with this unfortunate, in fact, terrible situation! If we refuse to understand and to act, we may all end up in the most dangerous situation: as complacent servants of the perverse whims of a frustrated, extremely aggressive and truly dangerous SPD patient. http://clubof.info/

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muddweekly · 7 years ago

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SF --> Vancouver

I moved to Vancouver last November because of visa issues. It’s been… quite a journey, to say the least.

Before I realized I had to move to Vancouver, I knew almost nothing about Canada. It seemed almost the same as US, but with… maple leaves and hockey? I also knew nobody in Vancouver. Or Canada, for that matter.

The idea of moving to an unknown place where I knew nobody seemed daunting, but before I moved, I wasn’t too worried. Of course moving to a brand new place would come with its difficulties, I thought to myself. But hey, I’d made moves like this twice before. Once from Taiwan to Philly, and once from Philly to Texas. I’d totally be fine.

So I was a little stunned and confused as I spent the third consecutive day alone in my Vancouver apartment, feeling miserable.

I’m a very inert person by nature. When left to my own devices, I tend to optimize my “activities” so I would be required to move as little as possible. If I were feeling thirsty, I would wait until I had to pee so I only needed to make one trip out of my bed. When I got hungry, I would opt to take a nap instead of getting something to eat.

I knew my laziness was a weakness of mine, but I never felt compelled to do anything about it. I’m lazy, so what? I’ve been surviving fine.

The further I went into my hermit life in Vancouver, the more I realized that the reason I survived fine was that there had always been social obligations that drew me away from my bed and back into a healthier life. School, work, a friend asking to grab lunch. In Vancouver, I didn’t even need to leave home for work, since I didn’t work with anyone in the Vancouver office.

I guess we often don’t realize how much we rely on certain things until we don’t have them anymore.

The freezing temperature didn’t help. I moved to Vancouver in November, and that winter apparently snowed the most in a very long time. Every time I went outside, I missed my warm bed.

I stubbornly clung onto my old lifestyle for a while. I had thought I didn’t need anything or anyone else, but I eventually had to admit that I needed external, physical interactions and stimuli to be happy. Getting my butt out of my bed at one point was pretty important, after all.

Thus began my quest of building a life in Vancouver. I joined a choir so I had a reason to get out of my apartment on the weekends. I started making it into the office even though many days I didn’t have to at all. I got comfortable eating out alone. I developed a crush on Justin Trudeau. I even made one friend!

I slowly abandoned the idea that I was stuck in Vancouver and started seeing my deportation as a chance to discover a new city. Before I moved, I never saw moving to Vancouver as that exciting. It won’t be that different from an American city, I thought to myself. It won’t be that interesting.

While it’s true that Canada is really similar to the US in many ways, I’ve come to enjoy discovering the subtle differences. A quick disclaimer, though: I’ve never been to another Canadian city, so I’m not always sure what is specific to Vancouver and what is Canadian in general.

Some interesting “Canadian” things I’ve observed/learned: Even the buses here say sorry when they’re not in service. Most people say “thank you” to the bus driver when they get off the bus. Poutine is sold at McDonald’s and the movie theater. Ice hockey is always playing on TV. Did you know there’s a hockey team named the Canadians?!

Around the time when Trump got elected, whenever Canadians hear that I had just moved from the US, they would ask, curiously, “how do you feel about the new president?” Moments like this reminded me that Canada is a different country, after all, with a different national identity. This sounds obvious, but Canadians just look, act, and sound so much like Americans that it’s easy to forget sometimes.

In terms of Vancouver as a city, one big thing that stood out to me was that there are a lot more clusters of international Asian people. Walking around the city, you see groups of Japanese people, Korean people, Chinese people, and Taiwanese people, all dressed in their country’s fashion and speaking their own language. San Francisco has its fair share of Asian people as well, but I feel like you see more Asian Americans in SF than the big groups of international or “fobby” Asian people that you see in Vancouver. Even the architecture in parts of Vancouver, like Robson street or the Richmond, reminds me of Asia. Like in Asia, there are a lot of tall apartment buildings each built in its own style.

All the Asian restaurants in Vancouver also tend to be more authentic. If you go to a Japanese restaurant, everyone there from the waitress to the chef behind the bar is Japanese, which is very different from the US, where most Japanese restaurants are not run by Japanese people. At Taiwanese restaurants, most of the times I hear familiar Taiwanese accents from the waitresses too! I sometimes think these Asian people just brought parts of Asia with them to Canada so they can still keep what they liked in Asia while enjoying the comfort and spaciousness of North America.

I also feel like Vancouver has more visible European influence than other U.S. cities, too, although it’s hard for me to pinpoint examples. Maybe it’s the European shops and restaurants? Or because of all the French in Canada? There is definitely a lot of European things in the US, too, but everything in the US feels more Americanized, whereas the cultures seem to be left more intact in Canada. All of this is to say that I guess I did find some truth in the stereotypes of Canadian cultural pluralism versus American “melting pot” assimilation.

One last thing I wanted to mention about Vancouver is I’ve really grown to appreciate the nature around Vancouver. I wish I were more into hiking and snowboarding to actually take advantage of it more, but I also love just admiring the mountains from afar… It’s quite a view at sunset!

I feel like I’m starting to ramble, so I’ll try to end this blog post soon… Unwillingly moving to a new city and a new country by myself was a lot harder than I’d expected, and I felt like I learned a lot about myself and about Canada through the process. Plus, now I get to add Vancouver to the list of cities I’ve lived in! It’ll be nice to move back to SF in a few months, but I’ll definitely miss the food and the clean air here.

Thanks, Vancouver. Despite the first few months of snow storms, you’ve treated me well :)

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