#i write only for the approval of celeste at this point

[tartigglez]

"goodnight, dear"

zhongli x gn!reader

genre: fluff

word count: i forgot to get one then celeste reminded me and i was like "aaaaaaaaaa"

summary: you're exhausted. luckily, only comfort awaits you as you come home.

tags: zhongli is very soft and its adorable yet odd, reader is tired to the point of almost collapsing (uh oh), lot of physical touch/petnames

tw/cw: mentions of fainting, light mention of insomnia but its not really specified idk (lmk if i missed anything)

a/n: i have written too much and the fic hasn't even started yet. anyslays just had a bath just drank tea feeling soft time for writing. also this is lightly based on the lyrics of "goodnight, dear" by youngk bc yes

opening the front door of your home with a click was always a satisfying feeling, but especially today. the sheer amount of work and deadlines on your back at the moment would be enough to send anyone spiralling, so can you really be blamed for the aching in your bones, your dizzy head, or your eyes' constant will to close? there is nothing more on your mind than slipping under the covers of your bed and shutting your eyes until the weariness fades away...

entering the hallway, and shutting the front door behind you, you are immediately greeted by the scent of bamboo shoot soup wafting at you from the kitchen, an immediate giveaway of your lovers presence.

after a moment, you hear a lid being placed on a pot, and footsteps approaching you.

"my love? are you well?"

the soft baritone of zhongli's voice was exactly what you needed to hear right now. he placed a hand upon your cheek, and a gentle kiss on your forehead, before helping you remove your jacket, slowly sliding it off your shoulders. after hanging it on the rack he turned you to face him, and you could not evade the worried look on his face.

"did something happen? are you sick? you must rest now."

"'m fine, li', just-" you paused, trying to think of a word, trying to ignore the fact that the room was spinning, and trying to ignore the fact that your legs feel weak beneath you. "tired, is all".

in announcing this, you felt your legs begin to give out, luckily your beloved archon was there to catch you, wrapping one arm around your waist, picking you up effortlessly and carrying you to your shared room.

he placed you down gently on the bed, which was unbelievably comfortable, especially now, in your state of weakness. the sheets were made by the most skilled textile workers in all of liyue, the nation your lover prided himself on.

"darling, who worked you to this point? is there someone who must be taught a lesson? perhaps a few flying rocks would do the trick?"

you let out a weak laugh at his words

"no, it is mostly my problem for taking such a workload on, please don't worry about me."

"you're lucky i love you, or else i would not hesitate. i am still held under the impression that many problems can be solved by flying rocks"

you smile lightly, and whilst trying to form an adequate response to your lovers attempt at comedy, your train of thought is interrupted by a brief removal of the hair from your eyes, and a gentle kiss pressed to your lips.

"wait here my dear"

placing another gentle peck upon your lips, your beloved leaves the room, presumably in order to ensure his soup hasn't bubbled over the entire kitchen by this point.

he returns, much to your surprise, in his half dragon form. his hair has been removed from its usual ponytail, and now flows down his bare back. the horns on the top of his head glow with gold in the dim light of the sunset coming through the bedroom window, and his tail presents itself in its own glory, gracefully moving behind the ex-archon.

"i figured you may feel more comfortable if i am in this state. may i lay beside you?"

it was hardly the first time you had seen zhongli look like this, but it never ceased to amaze you. for someone who did not care about others perception of him whatsoever, he truly always managed to look ethereal.

you nodded your head to indicate for him to lay down next to you which he did immediately. although he disguised it as wanting you to "feel more comfortable", the true reason that he presented himself in this form was because he felt he would be able to take better care of you like this, to further protect you from any threats of the outside world.

he manoeuvred himself next to you, so that he was facing you as you lay on your side. he pulled you closer to him before rolling onto his back and pulling you onto his chest, so that your head was buried in his neck, breathing in his scent of slightly burnt caramel and vanilla. his strong arms wrapped themselves around your form, as did his tail.

"my dear"

"mm"

"you must promise to never let yourself get to this state again."

"mhm"

"now." he brought his pinky finger to yours and wrapped it around it, which was something he had seen the mortals of liyue do whilst making a promise.

you couldn't help but laugh at his blissful unawareness, and tightened your pinky around his.

"promise"

"good."

you can hear his heart beating, and his light breathing threatens to lull you into a slumber incomparable to any other.

"li'?"

"yes my dear? is everything alright? do you need anything?"

"can i touch your hair?"

this struck the archon as quite the puzzling request. why on earth would you want to touch his hair?

"if you so wish, my lily, just be gentle"

you let out a content smile, moving your hand to make contact with his brown locks, and pressing a light kiss on the side of his neck as a sign of your gratitude.

despite how lovely this was, it felt oddly silent to you.

"li'?"

"hm?"

"will you talk me to sleep? i missed you"

"of course dear. shall i tell you the story of the time streetward rambler brought that absurd gift to cloud retainer? perhaps i have already told that one, hm. what about the time i had xiao run an errand to mondstadt and- ah."

already, you had drifted off into a slumber, courtesy of the age old words of your beloved.

he wrapped his tail around you ever so slightly tighter than before, pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and sighed in content at the sight of his exhausted partner getting some sleep at last.

"goodnight, dear"

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 44: Death Dream

“You don’t have to do this,” she mouths.  He blinks and shakes his head, flexing his jaw with determination as a shadow falls over his features. “I’ve survived it once before.”

Chapter from ongoing fic Forms of Imprisonment. Full story on AO3.

Pairing: Spawn Astarion (post-tadpole) x OFC

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+, sexual abuse mentioned/trauma, blood/blood rituals, death/dying, religious themes (Selune). *Smut in other chapters/throughout story.

“Are you going to explain any of what happened back there?“ Astarion asks, a frustrated edge creeps into his voice.

“My mother told me bedtime stories in Celestial, I learned it alongside Common and Elvish. Several of those stories were about Argentil, and all the creatures who dwelled here. It was a lucky guess that the dragons would speak it too."

“Why am I not surprised?” He grumbles. 

She gives an exhausted, yet playful, shrug. “You met me in a library, Astarion. This shouldn’t come as a shock.”

Karlach hands the Tear to Aylin as they enter the grand main hall, eager to be rid of the responsibility. The aasimar disappears down an adjacent corridor as Isobel follows Astarion closely.

“Should you be sitting in that?” Karlach asks, shifting her weight from foot to foot as he eases Celeste from his arms into Selûne’s throne. 

“It’s fine.” Isobel reassures her with a gentle laugh, kneeling in front of Celeste. Astarion steps back, giving the cleric room to fuss over her. 

“I don’t need healing.” Celeste protests, feeling her injury with her fingertips as she looks down at herself. “It’s going away on its own now.”

“Would you like it to take hours, or seconds?” Isobel asks, “If you have something to prove in your suffering, be my guest.” 

Celeste throws her hands up in defeat.

“You’ve replaced me? I’m hurt.” Shadowheart shoves Astarion to the side aggressively enough that he stumbles back and scowls.

“Sorry.” Celeste grimaces, her breath hitching as the wound closes. “Consider it an early retirement.”

“With friends like these? ” Shadowheart gestures around her and scoffs. “As if.”

Wyll offers Celeste a hand, pulling her to her feet, and Karlach visibly relaxes. “Any other surprise languages or dragon taming skills you’d like to share?”

“I know a little Infernal, but I can only read it, not speak or write it.”

Astarion rolls his eyes. 

“Let’s get you a change of clothes.” Isobel proposes, and Celeste follows her from the hall, casting a glance over her shoulder at Astarion as she departs. He paces, hands on his hips with a disapproving look.

I’ll be fine, she mouths.

He huffs, feigning indifference, and slouches against the wall, nonchalantly tucking his thumbs in his waistband and crossing his ankles.

“Shit! There’s an entire city here!” Karlach exclaims, pressing herself to a nearby window.

“Brightwater, no doubt.” Gale says, joining her, hands clasped behind his back, “Sune’s city of romance.”

Astarion’s focus flickers to the distant lights sprawling below, not moving from his vantage point.

“A little excessive, no?” he mutters.

“Brightwater is all about excess.” Gale explains, “Home to celestials serving the goddesses. The occasional traveler might manage to plane shift here, but it’s not made for mortals. The food offers no sustenance, in fact, many die of malnutrition after they’ve fallen for its allure…”

“Here for a good time, not a long time.” Karlach muses.

Astarion snorts, his smirk vanishing when Celeste reappears. Her hair is neatly brushed out, swept back over her shoulders against the fabric of a silver velvet gown that hugs her every curve. A deep v-shaped neckline reveals the expanse between her breasts, and a dagger strapped in a sheath under the slit of her dress wins her an approving grin as Astarion pushes himself off the wall and takes her hand, leading her out of earshot.

“Expecting a fight?” He murmurs in her ear as his palm slides to the small of her back. 

“Just staying prepared.” 

“That’s my girl.” He presses his lips to her neck before guiding her forward to join their companions as Selûne passes through the archway. 

“The moonmaiden, ” Shadowheart breathes, and Gale wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“You brought friends.” The goddess remarks, assessing them all with curiosity. 

“We didn’t have much of a choice.” Astarion replies. “We ran into a bit of trouble at the temple.…”

“I…think we may owe the high priestess an apology. I’ve been…unnecessarily guarded with her.” Celeste admits shamefully. 

“Rayne Moonstar is a very loyal ally.” Aylin assures her, returning without the Tear and threading her hand through Isobel's. “And not prone to offense.”

“Then why exclude her from this meeting?”

“Because her first priority will always be to protect the temple. That’s why she was chosen.” Selûne says, “She’d try to persuade you to accept the Tear’s power, and I wanted this to be your decision, free from outside influence.”

The goddess sighs, her attention wandering out of the window before returning to them. “But we have other matters to discuss. You brought the Tear. Does this mean you’ve accepted my offer?”

Astarion and Celeste exchange a glance.

“We have.”

“Then follow me,” she waves them on through a labyrinth of corridors until they reach something akin to a chapel. Under a vaulted ceiling, the dim light from the night sky beyond the palace walls filters through stained glass windows, casting a shimmer upon the surface of a narrow pool at the far end of the room. Several windows depict the exterior of the castle, nestled on a rocky island in the middle of the glistening sea, silhouettes of chaos dragons circling above its peaks. 

Carved into stone, the mouth of a fountain empties an endless stream of water into the pool, creating ripples that flow outwards, gently nudging the lilies floating upon its surface, where embers from burning incense on its ledge fall and turn to ash. Identical to the scar on Celeste’s shoulder, gemstones and gold glimmer on the wall, forming the symbol of Selûne.

At their feet, the phases of the moon are engraved into the slick marble floor, spiraling around a familiar phrase, written in an intricate celestial script.

The truth is only visible under moonlight.

Behind the words, candles wind in deliberate patterns amongst three circles drawn in salt. Pairs of pale blue flowers glow ethereally, scattered amidst the ritual space. A point of each circle touches the base of a tall, glass pedestal, the Tear resting atop it, dormant. 

“The rest of you may stay, so long as you do not interfere.” Selûne produces a peculiar dagger from within her robes, its hilt carved from moonstone. She turns to address Celeste and Astarion. “Before we can proceed, however, there is the matter of your life oath.”

“Right,” Celeste says as she uneasily accepts the knife, weighing it in her hands. In the candlelight, the silver blade gleams, and she catches a brief glimpse of her reflection. The halos of her irises seem to glow, as if welcoming to the Tear’s presence.

Selûne ushers them towards the shallow pool as their friends hover in the doorway, Shadowheart pale with concern. Gale’s hand seeks hers instinctively as he stares ahead, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Astarion’s whisper barely reaches her ears as Celeste kicks off her sandals and descends, fully clothed, into the water. Cool against her skin, it soaks her to the bone, the sodden velvet of her dress heavy as gravity tugs at it.

“More than ever, after nearly dying back there.”

Frowning, Astarion wades into the pool with his shoes on and rolls up the sleeves of his black tunic.

“May I?” He reaches for the dagger clenched tightly in Celeste’s fist. She dips her chin, and he takes it delicately from her, marveling at its craftsmanship. 

“The oath is composed of three vows,” the moonmaiden begins, taking a large tome from a nearby window ledge and holding it open in her arms. “I shall read them to you, and you will anoint the skin of the other to affirm each one - first on the forehead, second on the lips, and third on the heart.” 

“How about we stop talking about it and just get on with things?” Astarion suggests, before drawing the blade over his palm. Beads of red appear along the cut, and he wraps his fingers around Celeste’s wrist, holding her stare, as if to ask for permission. When she bites her lip and nods, he slices through her palm as well. She winces slightly as he returns the knife to Selûne. 

The goddess speaks in a language he doesn’t understand, presumably celestial, and Astarion gives Celeste a panicked look.

“The first vow, fealty ,” she says, sensing his confusion. She pauses, listening closely before continuing on. “-to swear loyalty above all else. To sooner die than commit an act of betrayal against the other.” 

She dabs her thumb in the blood that pools from her cut, and places it on Astarion’s forehead, brushing it across. Raising an eyebrow, he gently sweeps her hair aside with his fingertips, mirroring her actions. 

“The second vow, renunciation .” Celeste translates when Selûne speaks again, “To forsake all existing burdens. Deity nor undeath shall make claim upon your soul.”

She slowly draws a line along his bottom lip and his bloodlust screams at the taste of her before he mimics the gesture.

“The final vow, ephemerality.”

She unbuttons his shirt and smears blood across where his heart rests, silent and unmoving. “To forfeit all promises of immortality. When death comes for one, it shall too, take the other.”

Tenderly, he traces a line between the swell of her breasts, his thumb leaving a crimson trail in its wake. Celeste takes his bloody hand in her own, pressing their palms together. 

“Consecration,” she holds his gaze as the goddess continues to speak, “the binding of blood consecrates this oath and sanctifies these vows.” 

With deliberate force, he squeezes, giving his consent. Their mingled blood trickles down their intertwined fingers, dropping into the pool below.

“It is done,” Selûne states, her voice devoid of emotion.

Astarion pulls his hand back, inspecting it, already noticing the typical signs of accelerated healing from his vampirism as the wound begins to clot.

“I don’t… feel different.”

The goddess smiles, a subtle hint of withheld knowledge shining in her eyes. “The bond is not physically tangible. But perhaps you will notice it between you, in time.” She beckons Isobel closer, gesturing towards the salt circles on the floor.

“Now, the dissemination of the Tear. Each of you place a hand on the stone.” 

Each of them claims a circle and Astarion hesitates, hand hovering in front of him.

“Will this hurt?”

“Do you expect crossing the threshold from undeath into life would be painless?”

“No.” Astarion admits. 

“The Moonborn and the cleric are absorbing power that already courses through them. You are being reborn into it.” 

Astarion looks at Celeste.

“You don’t have to do this,” she mouths. 

He blinks and shakes his head, flexing his jaw with determination as a shadow falls over his features.

“I’ve survived it once before.”

“Very well.” The moonmaiden says, spreading her fingers across a page and closing her eyes. 

“Zir.” she commands.

The room erupts in a blinding blue glow, and the sound of the shattering Tear echoes like breaking glass. A sudden pressure fills Astarion’s ears, muffling all noise, as if he has been submerged underwater.

Everything spins, blurring his vision as his heart strains against his ribcage, fighting the against death’s grip that has held it in place for so long. Astarion collapses to the cold stone floor, clutching his chest as he siphons the magic and fights the urge to scream.

And then, his heart beats.

He suffocates under the heavy thud reverberating through his body, unable to find his breath. The Tear’s light fades, disappearing into nothingness and the room darkens, the candles extinguished by a gust of wind. A sharp hiss escapes through his clenched teeth as he falls back, body arching off the hard ground. His legs sprawl, kicking for leverage, as he drags himself toward the wall. Celeste scrambles to his side, taking his face in her hands, warm against his clammy skin.

“I’m here, I’m here-”

Worry haunts her voice as she smooths the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead and he closes his eyes, unable to watch her heart breaking for him. How will she cope, another person stolen from her by death? Will she return to Gale and Shadowheart’s bed to weep for him, plagued by nightmares? Or will she perish along with him, the bond now firmly in place?

The sensations of dying are painfully familiar, reminders of the night Cazador drained him of blood, his body shutting down as his consciousness fights helplessly. Now, blood forces its way through his veins, each organ awakening after centuries of dormancy.

He tries not to think of how it’s even possible.

An onslaught of memories assail him, undeath flashing before his eyes just as his brief life had the night he died. Presumed dead by his family, he was welcomed into his new world by six feet of dirt. Cazador Szarr was waiting when he clawed his way to the surface, to beat and fuck him into submission for the next two centuries, stripping him of all agency and dignity. As his puppet, Astarion would seduce even more unlucky souls to share his fate. Sometimes, he’d be rewarded with the honor of performing on his back for his master’s esteemed guests during parties.

When he finally lost count of the victims he’d lured back, and the strangers who’d violated him, it was then that Astarion swore he’d never dare to hope for anything ever again. 

But as the sun’s warm rays warmed his face nearly two hundred years later, he found himself with a tadpole slithering in his brain, and dared to believe that the gods had heard his pleas, that his newfound power could destroy the monster who took so much from him. One by one, he met his new allies, and to his surprise, amidst the turn of events, he began to care for them. And in turn, they began to change him.

And then there was her. 

Head resting on Celeste’s lap, his consciousness drifts back to the present. Gasping, Astarion lurches forward, gripping his shirt.

“It’s over, it’s okay,” she whispers, reaching for his shoulder. He can’t tell if it’s meant to comfort him or reassure herself.

His heart finds a steady rhythm as he takes a deep, shaky breath, chest rising and falling slowly. Trembling, he brings a hand to the side of his neck, fingertips tracing the pulse throbbing beneath his skin.

“How...” he starts, but his words fail him. His gaze lingers on Celeste, as if seeing her for the first time. Astarion etches every detail into his memory: the way her tear-streaked lashes stick together, the cupid’s bow of her pursed lips, the faint smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose…

Rising to his feet, he pulls her with him and crushes her against him in a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of her neck, clinging to her like a lifeline.

“I was dying all over again…” he chokes out into her skin, hands running up her back and winding into her hair. “I was dead…”

She presses her forehead against his and he closes his eyes and takes in a shuddering breath. “My heart…,” he rasps, “Is it-?”

Her palm comes to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thump beneath it. As she reaches up to touch his face, he flinches in surprise as she wipes away a single tear from his cheek, only then realizing that he had been crying.

“You’re alive, Astarion.”

[pechaberriesandsoju]

Little drabble/ one shot, but uh, AHEM.

Also testing a name for my insert.

Also, sorry if it sucks I did this after I took a shower cause I had to write it down quickly.

"You know... I'm kind of surprised, Dev."

"Surprised about what?" He looked at Hazel with a raised eyebrow, lifting his sunglasses to look at her as she sorted through the gem and rock collection set she was gifted. His hand tightened around his pencil as he glanced down at the new sketchbook that laid before him, sketches inspired by the latest issue of Prime Meridian they both just read.

"Well, about Celeste and Peri, of course!" Cosmo quickly chimed in. The green fairy quickly zoomed over, phone in hand to show off a picture of said purple fairy and pink haired human smiling at the lake from earlier that week. Dev blinked in surprise at the sudden movement before an unimpressed look crossed his features, and he let his glasses fall back into place, a scoff escaping him.

"Why would that bother me? I mean, yeah, it's kind of weird that he's dating my babysitter, but at least he seems to make her happy." He said with a dismissive wave of his hand, turning back to his sketchbook, going back to work. "Besides, it's not like they have to know that I approve of them."

"Approve of what?" A familiar voice made the three jump in their spots, quickly turning around to see Peri hovering behind them, a questioning look on his face.

"Oh uh -" "Well - " "That Dev approves of you and Celeste dating -" "COSMO!" The kids shouted together immediately, looking at the green fairy in shock and disbelief. Wanda looked up from her book in time to see Cosmo looking at her, silently pleading for help. She simply responded with a small shrug and a shake of her head before going back to her book. He was on his own now.

"Wait.. Dev, you're fine with me and Celeste dating? Really?" Peri had a touched look in his eyes as he looked at his now panicking and flustered god child. It sent Dev sputtering and faking a scoff and a cough.

"Wha- no- I mean - yes, I mean! Ugh!" He groaned, moving to run his hands through his slicked back hair, annoyance and frustration heavy in his voice. He shot Cosmo a glare, who responded by letting out a yelp and quickly poofing to hide behind his own god kid. Hazel gave him her own pointed look as well.

Dev sighed as he smoothed down his hair and pushed his sunglasses up to look at his fairy god parent, shifting on his spot on the floor. "What I mean to say is, it's fine. It's kind of weird cause I've known her longer than you, and she's probably one of my main role models and parental figures. But I think you'd do some good for her." He explained, cheeks turning pink from embarrassment as the others in the room started to coo over the sweet sentiment.

"But! Only because you seem better than her previous partner. And she seems to be more open around you. So... yeah, I guess I approve... but don't mess this up!" Dev quickly said, pointing a finger at Peri, making him jump a bit. "She's like family to me and means a lot to me. If you break her heart, I won't forgive you. Fairy god parent or not." Dev quickly stated, seriousness in his tone and his expression.

Peri's face softened into a smile as he carefully flew over and gently patted Dev on the head. "Trust me, kid, I'll do my best. I promise."

Omg what if Dev is actually super supportive of Peri and my insert dating and is even excited for the two of them, but he doesn't say it out loud cause like "I'm not letting them know I'm happy for them or think they're good for each other. Think of my image." And the reason why is he's seen my insert with her previous partner and HATED that guy especially cause Dev found out he was just using my insert to try to get closer to Dale somehow (dude didn't think it through cause my insert is a babysitter) and Dev is like "get away from my sister/mom role model she deserves better than you." And had noticed how she opened up more after that breakup, but when Peri comes around, he's like "....okay she seems a bit happier...more relaxed....oh my god she likes him- OH MY GOD MY FAIRY GOD PARENT LIKES HER TOO? OH MY GOD? THEY'RE HAPPY?? I am not letting these two overlook this- I need my role model mom/sister figure to have someone good for her for once-" and later it's like "oh...so this is what it's like being in a family...MAN MY FAMILY IS WEIRD- ITS MY BABYSITTER AND MY FAIRY GOD PARENT-"

[moonb-eam]

skater boy au part ii

back by popular demand!!!!

(some folks did ask for this and i was so happy to write it - i just hope y’all like it!!!)

part i

part ii

He gets endless shit from Yann about it. All through their lunch, over the course of their walk to Lucas’s street, and then over text five hours later.

His phone buzzes as he stands in front of his mirror, pulling at the material of his t-shirt and pretending like the mess of clothes piled onto his bed doesn’t exist.

y4z4s: lol how many times have u changed

y4z4s: lulu don’t worry ur beautiful no matter what <3333

lucallemant: die in a ditch <3333

y4z4s: LOL ur so grumpy u r nervous!!!!!!

lucallemant: and u r annoying 

lucallemant: shouldn’t you worry about your own love life

lucallemant: oh that’s right it’s because you don’t have one

y4z4s: uh huh

y4z4s: u can send me pics if u want and i’ll vote on them

y4z4s: no forget it i already kno wear the black jeans they make ur ass look nice

y4z4s: luluuuuuu

y4z4s: lucas

y4z4s: did u hear me the black jeans

y4z4s: show demaury the goods

lucallemant: you’re gross go away

Lucas throws his phone down onto his bed, ignoring another rapid succession of buzzes.

He doesn’t care about dressing up for Eliott. He doesn’t. Eliott knows what Lucas looks like. He’s not going to act any differently if Lucas wears one thing or another. Eliott will probably show up wearing a stupid beanie anyway, and somehow looking completely perfect, because he’s just like that.

Whatever. He’s trying to keep perspective. Eliott is Eliott. And that means that Lucas must be one in a line of hundreds of people Eliott can date. 

Perspective. As in trying not to act like the very thought of it, the memory of the way Eliott’s mouth formed the words, I really like you, doesn’t make him want to throw himself into a swimming pool.

But perspective also tells him that, yeah, there might be hundreds of other people, but they’re not the ones going on a date tonight, are they?

So maybe Lucas does put on the black jeans. And maybe he does check himself out before he leaves his bedroom. Maybe he does smile to himself when he sees Eliott’s, downstairs! text, slipping out of the front door before Mika can ask him where he’s going.

He takes a breath before he opens the front door to his building, schooling his face to something neutral.

He’s glad he does it, because he’s not ready for what awaits him when he opens the door.

Eliott, leaning against a lamp post, wearing a button-up shirt with half of its buttons undone, hair wild and eyes low, lit up in orange and gold from the sun just beginning to set. 

He looks…cool. Unapproachable. Like the Eliott that Lucas sees at school. Like the sort of person who can waltz through life on the tops of clouds. Like the sort of person Lucas could only ever sneak glances at across rooms. 

But he looks up, sees Lucas, and his face splits into a big, toothy smile, and the effect is gone. Lucas doesn’t know what’s worse. The beautiful, unapproachable Eliott, or the Eliott who smiles like a dork.

“What,” Lucas calls out to him, across the stretch of empty sidewalk between them, “the hell are you wearing?”

Eliott glances down at himself, tugs on the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t like it?”

He doesn’t move from the lamp post so Lucas goes to him, short steps crossing that empty stretch of sidewalk until he’s close enough to get a good look at Eliott, to see how his cheeks are a bit pink, how his eyes are grey-green in the light.

Lucas is close enough to touch him, so he does, poking him once in the chest, where the shirt is gaping open. “Showing a lot of cleavage, don’t you think?”

“What can I say, I know what the boys like.” Eliott laughs, and before Lucas can pull his hand away he’s grabbing onto his finger, then folding Lucas’s hand into his own and tugging him forward, closer, closer, until Lucas is pressed right up against him, wrapped in his arms.

It happens so quickly, Lucas not touching Eliott, then touching him only a little bit, then being so surrounded by Eliott that it’s overwhelming. Lucas can feel the hard planes of his chest, can feel how warm his skin is, can smell him, and he smells a bit like cologne, something fresh and masculine, and a bit like cigarettes, and a bit like sweat and Lucas kinda wants to lick his neck and oh what the fuck where did that thought come from—

Lucas is not prepared for this.

He can feel himself locking up, arms straight down at his sides, neck stiff, eyes open wide. It’s just so much, is the thing. So much when Lucas has spent the better part of a year convincing himself that he doesn’t like Eliott, that Eliott is nothing more than a well-worn fantasy to pick up during boring classes and long bus rides. 

But Eliott is here, now, holding him, nuzzling into Lucas’s hair and sighing as though they’ve done this before, as though they’ve been doing this, touching like this, when all of their interactions before were handshakes bound in barbed wire.

“You smell nice,” Eliott tells him, voice close to Lucas’s ear, breath warm on his neck. 

Lucas shivers. He’s thrown off by the hug, by the contact and affection, and he’s getting a little lost in it, thinking about falling into Eliott without abandon, here we go—

He just starts to lift his hands, fingers reaching for Eliott’s back, when Eliott steps away, hands sliding away from Lucas and Lucas’s own arms are back at his sides and they’re staring at each other in the golden light, Lucas’s entire body a live wire of tension.

“So, are you hungry?” Eliott asks, bouncing on the spot. “There’s this cool place I’ve been to with the guys before; they do like, street food? It’s basically a fancy food truck but it’s so good, I swear.”

“Uh, yeah.” Lucas glances up and down the street, eyes dancing everywhere except right at Eliott’s face. “I could eat.”

“Cool.” Eliott steps away and bends towards the lamp post, and picking up his skateboard, tucking it under his arm.

“Oh no,” Lucas says, voice coming back to him, because really, “you did not bring that.”

“What? Celeste?” Eliott holds his board out and of fucking course he has a name for his board because he’s not cool, he’s a fucking loser. “She comes everywhere with me.”

“Oh, Celeste.” Lucas lets his eyes go wide. “I mean, if you’d rather be alone with her, I can go back inside.”

“At least she doesn’t make fun of me. She supports me. Literally and figuratively.”

“Does she sleep in your bed at night, too?”

“No.” Eliott’s eyes cut sharply to Lucas, mouth quirked in a teasing half-smile. “But you can, if you want.”

Lucas nearly chokes on his own tongue, only just managing to mask it with a cough into his fist.

Eliott looks far too pleased with himself.

“In your fucking dreams, Demaury,” Lucas says, and he doesn’t think he sounds that convincing so he turns away from Eliott, starts walking left, towards downtown. “Don’t we have somewhere to be?”

“Yeah,” Eliott yells after him, and Lucas can hear his board rolling across the pavement. “Except you’re going the wrong way.”

It is with great dignity that Lucas turns around and strides past where Eliott is waiting and flips him off with both hands.

Eliott takes him towards the area of town where the skatepark is, but they drift into a neighbourhood Lucas isn’t familiar with, one that has hip-looking bars mixed in with old apartment buildings and small parks.

It’s busy on the street, as everywhere in Paris is on a summer night, patios heaving and laughter carrying across a gentle breeze.

Everywhere Lucas looks, there are couples: walking hand-in-hand, sitting next to each other at tiny round tables, kissing on street corners.

He and Eliott pass one couple doing just that, Eliott holding his board under his arm again, telling Lucas how he and Idriss and Sofiane come here all the time, and Lucas makes a face at them, partially because he’s disgusted, and partially because he is, the tiniest bit, envious. There’s about a foot of space between him and Eliott. There has been ever since they started walking, and while the conversation is flowing a lot better since Lucas was able to get a hold of his few remaining brain cells, they probably look like they’re just friends.

It’s Lucas’s fault maybe, because he’s in his default snarking-Eliott mode, but it does make him wonder.

“Lucas?” 

Eliott has a hand resting at the small of Lucas’s back, and he’s gently guiding him across the street, to where Lucas can see a truck parked at the side of an empty parking lot, with a bright neon sign on the front of it. There’s a line of people waiting for food and at least half a dozen picnic tables set up in the parking lot, surrounded by strings of fairy lights. Lucas can hear music coming faintly from the inside of the truck. Something he can’t place.

He has to admit, this is not bad.

Eliott’s hand has dropped from his back but he’s grinning when he looks down at Lucas. “Now I know you have high standards, Lallemant—”

Lucas snorts.

“—but the food here is amazing. Trust me. It’s Moroccan food that even Idriss approves of, and he says everything is shit except what his mom makes.”

“If I had high standards,” Lucas says cheerily, patting Eliott on the chest, “then I wouldn’t be on a date with you.”

Eliott cackles at that, tipping his head back, and Lucas tucks his pleased smile away into his own shoulder. 

“You’re so mean,” Eliott says, but he’s smiling, smiling at Lucas like Lucas is the best thing he’s ever seen. It wreaks havoc on Lucas’s heart.

So Lucas coughs, breaks his gaze away from Eliott’s, and goes to the truck to find a menu. 

Eliott follows him, stopping behind Lucas in line and bending down to murmur in his ear, “Do you want to share a few things?”

Lucas is vibrating at a low frequency at this point, but he says yes, actually, he would because there are about three things on the menu he wants to try, so that’s what they do.

They find two spots at the end of a picnic bench, where the only other occupants are two girls sharing a big plate of food, laughing when one of them manages to get a glob of hummus on her chin, the other one wiping it off with a napkin.

Eliott asks if they’re saving the table, and the girls say, no, that’s fine, all yours, and Eliott and Lucas sit across from each other at the opposite end.

“So, do you like it?” Eliott asks, face eager.

Lucas nods. “Yeah,” he says, glancing around the parking lot, then to the truck, where he can see a young woman and a man cooking, laughing, and the other young woman who took their orders hollering something back to them. “It’s cool.”

Eliott grins. “Cool.”

“Seems like the type of place you would come to,” Lucas continues, because he can’t just leave things. “Being such a hipster and all.”

Eliott genuinely looks offended. “I am not a hipster.”

“Oh no? Mr. Skateboard Artist? Your music taste would beg to differ.”

“When,” Eliott’s eyes are narrowed, “have you ever heard my music taste?”

Lucas pauses, takes a slow slip of the beer he ordered. “I’ve seen some of your instagram stories.” He shrugs, takes another sip of beer. “That’s not a surprise, you can see who watches them.”

“I never really look at that.”

Lucas sighs. “Of course you don’t.”

Eliott leans onto his forearms, his body stretching across the table. “Do you ever listen to the songs? After you see them on my story?”

Yes. “No.”

Eliott’s eyes are lethal. “So if I said that there’s one song that I posted because it reminds me of you, you would have no idea which one?”

Lucas swallows. Tries to control his exhale. “Let me guess. It’s that song called ‘Mean’, the one Daphy always listens to.”

Eliott shakes his head. He leans back on the bench, pulling a cigarette out from behind his ear and lighting it, smoke curling around his face. “No,” is all he says. “It’s not that.”

Their food arrives, four steaming plates dropped at their table that have Lucas’s mouth watering.

They both dig in, hands getting messy, satisfied groans coming from deep in their throats.

“Alright,” Lucas concedes after he bites into a spicy dish that sends him straight to the heavens. “This food is incredible. Not a bad spot, Demaury.”

“So glad it meets your approval, Lucas.”

The way he says his name, the way his voice sounds as it holds the word Lucas, makes Lucas shift awkwardly on the bench. Maybe it’s the food, or the beer, or the atmosphere of the night around them, but Lucas feels good. So good his few brain cells have decided to take off. That’s the only explanation for him saying, “I’m happy you asked me.”

Eliott’s in the middle of drinking from his own beer bottle, and a bit dribbles out onto his chin. “What?” Eliott asks, laughing, wiping his chin. “Do you mean to say that you, Lucas Lallemant, are happy to be out with me on a date?”

“Nope. Didn’t say that.” Lucas can feel himself smiling, the same way he did back in the skatepark, unable to control it. “You’re hearing things.”

“Sure, sure.” They’re smiling at each other over the table, over the nearly-empty plates and the pile of napkins. “I’m happy you said yes.” Eliott says, and it’s Lucas’s turn to almost choke on his beer. “I wanted to ask you out for so long, you know. But you…you make me nervous.”

He says it so easily, like it costs nothing to be honest, like he’s not aware that the two girls have quieted their conversation and are clearly eavesdropping.

“I make you nervous?” Lucas sputters. “Are you not Eliott Demaury, resident golden boy of the school? What have you done with him?”

“I don’t think of myself as…” Eliott trails off and waves a hand at Lucas. “I’m no golden boy, or anything. I’m not. And you make me nervous because I really like you. Because I think you’re really cool.”

Listen.

Lucas has a science concentration. He genuinely, without irony, loves space, and plays video games all the time, and spends far too many nights on Wikipedia conspiracy theory pages, and honestly, is pretty shit at football. Lucas has never been called cool in his entire life.

“You’re so weird,” he murmurs, eyes wide and disbelieving on Eliott. “You really are.” He lowers his beer back down to the table, eyes following the motion, still down when he says, so quietly he hopes Eliott will miss it, “I like you so much.”

Of course Eliott hears it. And of course the girls at the other end of the table hear it too, both letting out awwww’s that make Lucas’s cheeks flush.

“Reminds me of us,” one girl says to the other, who shushes her with a giggle. They both stand from the table, gather their plates, and leave, their held hands swinging between them, one of them glancing back at Lucas to wink before they disappear from the parking lot.

Lucas hesitantly glances back up at Eliott, who’s leaning on his forearms again, his smile small, and his eyes burning. They’re still the colour of ice but they’re so warm, in the way they travel across Lucas’s face, down his neck, and back up again. They’re not cooling on Lucas’s skin anymore, they’re setting him alight from the inside out.

“Hey,” Eliott says, voice low, smooth. “Let’s get out of here.”

Lucas licks his lips. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

Yeah, that’s… “Okay.”

They collect their plates and bottles and drop them in the bins back at the truck. They turn right when they leave, with no particular destination in mind, both of them wanting to be moving, looking to expel the wild, anticipatory energy manifesting between them. Eliott’s arm brushes against Lucas’s and it feels like lightning dancing across his skin.

Eliott turns them again, onto a much quieter street, with a park on one side and a row of tall, narrow houses on the other. Lucas can hear music coming from a few open windows, faint laughter spilling out into the night, but he can’t see anyone, other than a man walking his dog further down the road.

They cut into an empty basketball court that opens up onto a small, flat field. The sun is far down on the horizon now, the sky painted with pastel swaths of pink, purple, yellow and blue. Eliott’s on his board, skating lazy circles around where Lucas walks, laughing when Lucas rolls his eyes after he does a kick flip.

“You look stupid,” Lucas says, and Eliott rolls to a stop in front of him, cutting off his path. 

“You think so?” Eliott asks. Teasing, always teasing.

“Yeah, I do.”

Eliott steps off his board. Kicks it up. “You know, you shit talk skateboarding so much for someone who’s never tried it.”

Lucas makes a face. “How do you know I’ve never tried it?”

“Please.” Eliott says it like its obvious, and maybe it is, but Lucas has his reasons. Yann has bene trying to get him into skateboarding for years, but Lucas could never be bothered to try it. And yeah, maybe, maybe he doesn’t want to fall. He hates the idea of it.

“Well, whatever.” Lucas says testily, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t need to try it to know it looks stupid.”

“Mhm.” Eliott narrows his eyes at Lucas. “You’re scared.”

“I am not.”

“Yes you are.”

“I am not fucking scared.”

“Alright.” Eliott shrugs, smiling. “If you say so.” His voice is a sing-song on the last sentence, the tone so clearly conveying i don’t believe you that it makes Lucas bristle. It’s the type of tone that always gets his back up. Makes him do stupid things.

“Give me that thing,” he grumbles, snatching the board from Eliott and dropping it to the ground. He hesitates for the briefest moment before he steps onto it.

Immediately the board shifts, Lucas’s feet going one way, and his body threatening to go another and oh god, Lucas is going to fall he’s going to break something he’s going to die why does he always do this dumb shit—

“Whoa!” Eliott reaches out and grabs onto Lucas’s flailing hands, holding them tightly in his own. He manages to steady Lucas enough that he doesn’t fall, just rolls a bit to the right. “Christ, I didn’t think you’d actually go for it.”

Lucas can feel his cheeks heating. Eliott’s hands are soft and strong against his own, long fingers curled between Lucas’s. “Yeah, well. I…can’t really say no to a challenge.”

“I know,” Eliott says, his features softening into something that could possibly be called fond. “Why do you think I kept giving you so much shit right back? I thought it was the only way to get you to talk to me.”

Lucas’s hands squeeze Eliott’s, on reflex, and Eliott squeezes back. “I don’t know if that was a good plan, because I thought you hated me.”

“I dunno. I kinda disagree, because look where we are now.”

Belatedly, Lucas realizes that they’re moving, Eliott taking small, slow steps and gently pulling Lucas along by the hands, the board rolling along under Lucas’s feet.

“Just try to move your body with the board,” Eliott instructs. “Keep your core tight.”

Right.

The feeling of the ground moving underneath him is, admittedly, nerve-wracking, but Eliott is holding his hands so tightly, tugging him along so slowly. It allows Lucas to pay attention to other things, like how good the faint wind feels on his face, like how good Eliott’s palms feels against his own.

He tries to remember what they were talking about, distracted by the play of the dusk light over Eliott’s features, hallowing the shadows under his cheekbones, under his eyes, making him look otherworldly. Lucas searches his brain for a word he heard Manon use a while ago.

Ethereal.

“And where are we now?” He asks eventually, stumbling only a bit when Eliott turns him in a wide circle, going to the other end of the court.

“We’re on a date.” Eliott says, once again like it’s obvious. “We told each other that we like each other. We’re probably going to kiss tonight.”

Lucas’s mouth drops open. His throat feels dry. “You think we’re going to kiss?”

“Of course.” Eliott looks up from where he’s been watching Lucas’s feet on the board, meeting his eyes. “Don’t you?”

Lucas swallows once. “I doubt it.”

“Really.” Eliott has slowed Lucas down until he’s barely moving, the board moving from its own momentum. He’s still holding Lucas’s hands. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

“Not particularly.” Lucas wrinkles his nose. “You’re kinda gross. But you’re asking all these questions like you want to kiss me.”

“Hm, no, actually. I don’t want to kiss you anymore.”

“Oh no?” A shocked laugh bubbles out of Lucas’s throat, flies free before he can catch it. 

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Now who’s asking questions?”

They’ve stopped moving, completely. Lucas is standing on the board, and he’s closer to Eliott’s height this way, only has to tilt his chin up a bit to meet his gaze.

“If you don’t want to kiss me, that’s fine. I can find someone else who will.”

Eliott laughs now, squeezing Lucas’s hands again where they hang between them. “How the fuck did you manage to turn that around on me?”

Lucas sighs. “You’re not that smart. It’s not difficult.”

Eliott’s face screws up into something complicated, like he wants to smile but he’s trying not to, and oh god, is Lucas ever familiar with that expression.

“You’re so mean to me,” Eliott complains. He releases his hands from Lucas’s, and Lucas mourns the loss of his touch for only a second before those hands are at his waist, Eliott stepping so close to him that Lucas could count his eyelashes. “But I know your secret,” Eliott whispers into the empty air between them.

“Yeah?” Lucas’s voice comes out all breath. He swallows and tries again. “What’s that?”

“You like me,” Eliott says, wrapping his arms fully around Lucas’s waist. “You like me and you want to kiss me.”

“That’s not a secret. I told you that I like you.” Lucas argues, his own arms coming up to wrap around Eliott’s neck, his hands almost shaking when they pass over the hard muscle of Eliott’s shoulders. “You know I do.”

“I do.” Eliott agrees, and he’s leaning closer, any distance left getting small, smaller, smaller. “I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

“Eliott,” Lucas says firmly, because he has never been a patient person and even he has his limits for how much teasing he can take. “I really like you. And if you don’t kiss me right now then I’m never going on a date with you again.”

Eliott says nothing to that. Just leans the last few inches forward and presses their lips together.

Eliott’s lips are soft and warm, but the kiss is artless, a quick press of lips that Eliott immediately pulls away from. Lucas whines at the loss, wanting more, needing more than that.

“This is okay, right? You want this?”

“Yes, Eliott, for fucks’s sake, yes.” Lucas tugs him in by his neck. “Fucking hell,” he mutters, the last word getting caught by Eliott’s lips, their lips crushing together now, Eliott’s arms tight around Lucas’s waist.

Lucas moans into it, arching his neck up to get closer, needing Eliott to be closer.

He opens his mouth the slightest bit on the next press, and Eliott takes the invitation, coaxing Lucas’s mouth open even wider and kissing him, deep and wet.

The thing is, Lucas has actually thought about kissing Eliott before. He’s wondered what it would be like, if Eliott would have too much spit or if it would be too dry or if Eliott was the type of boy who would immediately get handsy.

In none of his fantasies did he ever think it would be this good, these slow, sensual presses of their mouths, the warm slickness of Eliott’s tongue against his own, the feeling of Eliott’s soft hair between Lucas’s fingers, the smell of Eliott surrounding him, the comforting weight of Eliott’s arms around him.

“Lucas,” Eliott gasps between one kiss and the next and he sounds ruined, and Lucas thinks he might be right there with him, because kissing Eliott is unlike anything he’s ever experienced before, and Eliott is unlike anyone he’s ever known.

Lucas thinks back to the hug earlier that night, thinks about letting himself fall into Eliott but maybe they’re falling together, comets headed skywards, shooting stars set on a collision course.

So he gasps, “Eliott,” right back and lets himself feel every bit of it. 

Eliott does something with his tongue that makes Lucas’s whole body feel like a lightning rod and he moans again, tugging on Eliott’s hair.

And apparently that does something to Eliott, because he’s trying to come even closer, and he’s tilting Lucas a bit and Lucas feels his feet move but they’re not moving, and fuck, he forgot he was still on the board—

Eliott tightens his arms even more and Lucas is moving, his feet leaving the skateboard as it rolls away, Eliott swinging him around in a steady circle. Lucas pulls his head back, separating their mouths to gasp again, his feet swaying in the air.

“Eliott,” he yells, laughing, and Eliott is laughing too, setting Lucas gently onto the ground, bending to follow him down, keeping their lips level. “You really think you’re smooth, huh,” Lucas says but it’s lost again into Eliott’s mouth, a barb that has no sting, that dissolves to stardust between one press of lips and another.

Eliott’s mouth is scorching hot against Lucas’s own, so sweet Lucas might actually faint, and he’s just thinking about pushing Eliott onto the grass outside of the court and climbing on top of him, getting a better angle, when Eliott abruptly pulls back.

Lucas can’t believe the sound that comes out of his own mouth. He knows he’s blushing, and he tries to reel Eliott back in to forget about it, but Eliott’s face looks determined. 

“I want to ask you something.”

Lucas literally cannot get a single thought formed at that moment other than lips and tongue and Eliott. “Uh,” he says, lips still pursed slightly.

Eliott clears his throat. “Lucas, will you be my boyfriend?”

It takes a second, it really does, because Eliott’s lips look cherry red in the fading light and Lucas wants to be kissed again more than he wants anything else in the world, but the words land somewhere in Lucas’s brain, somewhere his brain cells have decided to return to so they can point at it and say, oh shit!

Boyfriend?

Lucas blinks. 

Boyfriend.

“Eliott, what the fuck.” 

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, ART! You’ve been accepted for the role of EDMUND with an approved FC change to Max Irons. Admin Minnie: I knew this was a winner while reading your plots Art, but it was your para sample that really left me speechless. The way you showed us how he had suffered and how he had ached, all that bitterness and resentment and ambition and pride... it was so clear how deep your love for Edmund goes. I am thrilled to see someone with such an intimate, intense grasp on Easton’s soul. Please stay forever, and please ruin us for the rest of your life! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Art

Age | 19

Preferred Pronouns | He/him

Activity Level | Well here’s the thing about quarantine. I will be spending the next two-three months in a house, all day, every day, with consistent access to a laptop. I also lost my job and because the US economy is a flaming pile of garbagé, I don’t imagine getting another any time soon, especially since all my skills are in food. All this to say, I believe I will be incredibly active, outside of my Skype’d classes and grocery runs and whatnot.

Timezone | MST

How did you find the rp?  | A discord friend DM’d it to me after I went on a rant about Edmund and the layers to his “Thou, Nature, art my Goddess” soliloquy. They know me so well, and acceptances were literally in like six hours from when I got the link, so I sat my butt down, put down my real-world obligations for a moment, and typed this whole thing out like I was writing an unstarted essay due at midnight.

Current/Past RP Accounts | All my old RP writing is from years ago and is, frankly, really really bad. Thank you for making this optional.

IN CHARACTER

Character | Edmund or Easton Craven. I love Daniel Sharman’s wonderful, gorgeous face with my whole heart (hello gay awakening), but I’d like to use Max Irons instead, if at all possible.

What drew you to this character? | So, my love of Easton/Edmund actually began about a year ago, when I cut my hair and started playing around with names and different clothes. I was in a Shakespeare class at my college, and it was a requirement that we perform a monologue. It didn’t need to be Broadway-worthy, we just needed to deliver it, and we could do this as often as we liked. I performed two. One from a play we had read and analyzed, as my professor asked, and I did another. That second one was Edmund’s “Thou, Nature” soliloquy. It was the first time I performed as a guy to an audience that thought I was a guy, not a girl playing dress up. So I have a really strong emotional connection to Edmund, regardless of the form he’s in.

I was really excited by this particular version of him, however, because I thought it played right along the line of a monstrous asshole and charming young man doing what he can to deal with the hand dealt to him. He’s both of those things, to me, and I really enjoyed that you brought that forward. Edmund, from the source, reminds me of Chris Evans’ character from Knives Out, in a way? Completely self-motivated, selfish and cruel, and yet really fun and charming, as long as it isn’t you he’s screwing over at the time. I know he isn’t that character and I’m honestly really glad for it. I just found a similarity there.

I just really like those kinds of characters in fiction, and that, combined with my emotional ties and vague debt to the source character, meant I arrived and started writing as fast as I could.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

These are all ideas, nothing here is set in stone, and are entirely dependent on the beauty of the other writers free will.

Some Twelve or Fourteen Moonshines Lag of a Brother: From the get-go of this awful experience known as the human existence, Easton has existed just slightly behind Everett, just enough to keep the guy freezing in the shadows. It’s the last name, the mannerisms, and the goddamn eyes that sit in his skull. It is a truth, acknowledged by both me and him, that there is an association to Easton he really wishes wasn’t there. This is why I want someone to look at Easton and see Easton, not a Craven.

Now, I want to pause here, and say that Easton is a lying snake of a man that would and probably will sell out his own family for one corn chip. He is completely self-centered, convinced of his superiority, and willing to bleed the world dry to get the pound of flesh he is owed. I want someone to see this, to realize there is a snake curled around the Capulet’s necks, willing to bite and kill every single one of them if it means he gets to sit comfortably on a throne of gold and bones. Because that is what he wants, he wants the world to pay for every second of misery he endured in his life. But he is charming, slippery in the way only the truly awful can be. He’s accepted the labels thrown at him and become them, which is its own kind of armor. Who doesn’t love a bad boy?

But beyond all that, he is rotten through and through. I’d like his armor to crack and reveal the duplicity underneath, maybe around someone like Maeve or Catherine, someone that might not be believed right away. I love the idea of Easton being the wolf among some very dangerous sheep, but the really, truly awful ones not realizing. This could produce a really fun dance, where the two parties involved both try really really hard to overthrow or remove the other from their position while still trying really hard to maintain a veil of normality.

But that dance is what makes this all so terribly fun. They’re on a rock, doomed to eventually die, and Easton wants his power, but why can’t he play a few games while trying to get it?

I Grow, I Prosper: Easton, poor guy, was brought into the world and then spent the next twenty-six years being told his existence and all the things that came with it were his fault. They weren’t, or at least they weren’t in the way he had been told his entire life. He has learned to move past the label of “bastard” or “illegitimate”, meeting all such claims with the certainty that he must act the part. But does his position fulfill him? Does his current lot in life spark joy? I think not! He is a captain, yes, but so is his brother. He is, at best, on equal footing with his brother and at worst, he is the younger brother desperately following behind Everett as a living shadow yet again. Easton needs to be more than Everett. He’s wanted this his entire life. The whole city needs to look at Easton and see him, not his brother, and then Easton wants to rub it in Everett’s face, lord it over him for the next century at the shortest. That is the general idea behind this plot: Everett surpassing and overcoming his brother. The fact that he’d end up lording over so many others is really just a plus!

This plot would require effort. Loads and LOADS of plotting and communication on my part, and a whole lot of cutthroat, stepping-on-literally-everyone-else-in-Verona from Easton. He is going to have to exploit the hell out of Celeste and the information she can get him, potentially leading to her downfall just so Easton can succeed. He will need Rafaella and Tiberius to trust him almost unconditionally, which, just from what I’ve seen poking around the main, seems pretty much impossible. And of course, he has to successfully and continually one-up Everett, which might be the hardest job of all, given the whole awful tangle of EmotionsTM that Easton has towards him. It’s hard for him to be clear-headed when he wants to tear Everett into little tiny pieces with his bare hands.

But hey, that is, again, the whole point of this plot: the destruction of the legitimate son. Eliminating the sun so the moon can rule 24/7.

My Services are Bound: No matter how ambitious, how desperate Easton is to rule the world, he doesn’t yet. He works for the Capulets and he is a tool used to further the wishes of those above him in this terribly illegal food chain where dog eats dog. No matter how much Easton wishes it was different, it isn’t, at least not at the moment, and he must bide his time until something better happens.

Yes, Easton is a tool, and I want him to be reminded of that. He has the ambition to rule the world, can picture himself with a crown he may never hold, but he is a knight on the chessboard. I want his ego to be checked, I want him to be taken down at the knees and reminded of the situation he is in, who he works for. Now, ideally, this would come from the Capulet family themselves and not a rogue Montague or something.

The Capulet family, in order to win this war they’ve found themselves in, need their tools to be obedient and ready to deploy at a moment’s notice. This is not the case with Easton. He’s a rebellious man, more loyal to himself than any of the lofty ideas the Capulet heads have surrounded themselves with. So the family he serves would need to get Easton back in line, somehow. They’d need to remind him who he is and whom he serves no matter what it took and use whatever tools at their disposal. This could potentially happen after Easton completely blows off a mission he was handed to advance his own agendas, which I think would probably be the best choice as it would probably send these awful shrieking sirens off in the Capulets.

I want this particular plot because Easton is so assured that he will be able to make the world pay and yet he’s just one man against so very many others.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Oh most definitely. As a writer, I am a firm believer in conditional happy endings, probably because I play so many video games. In order to get a happy ending, in order to survive, the character has to do all the right things. The likelihood of Easton doing all the right things is just tiny, absolutely microscopic.  

IN DEPTH

I was going to do both, but I’m running out of time so…

In-Character Para Sample:

There is something beautiful in standing alone, where there are no silent reminders of how Easton arrived in this world, how he stepped into it screaming and no one cared to change that. There were no side-eyes, reminding him of how unwanted he was, how utterly unworthy he was to bear the name “Craven”. No hands hiding giggles at the boy his mother ran from and his father hid away. Here, under the bowed ceiling in the transept of the Capulet’s cathedral, there was only him and God.

“I hope,” Easton began, fingers lightly running across the back of a pew likely not used for praying, “that you know what is coming.” The eyes that proclaim a taint to his family’s name were raised to dance across the ceiling. “If word is to be believed, you, an old man in the sky, a Father,” he spat out, “brought me here. Placed me here upon this Earth to do whatever it is I so wish.” A smile, small and dangerous with heavy promises was birthed on his face, an expression that could not have been more familiar to his muscles. “I suppose that’s all a father has ever done for me. Perhaps,” he mused, lightly tapping his chin as he continued to wander aimlessly among the seats of a flock absent. “Perhaps I should be grateful that both You and him are both so delightfully hands-off.”

“I suppose this rock is where You chose to put all Your bastards, isn’t it? Shoved them away from Your kingdom, making them fight for their place in Your home despite them all being Your children?” The noise that escaped Easton’s mouth was not fit for the place he stood in, but it hardly seemed to matter to him as he collapsed into a pew, feet raised to rest on a Bible, feet that had stood in a man’s blood not hours before. “I suppose that must be how it is, because we’re all made in Your image, aren’t we? And that man had to learn it from somewhere.”

His head fell back, eyes closed to the beauty above him in a silent condemnation for Who it was built for. “You’ve released yet another snake into your garden by making that woman my mother and handing me the Craven name, you know.” The observation was quiet, laced with the bitterness of cyanide, perfected over years of similar declarations. The words were familiar, not on his tongue but rather to his mind, the idea similar to ones he had kept close for years.“I have crawled in the dirt on my stomach for too long because of You, and I shall take a throne and dare You to steal it from me.”

He inhaled, once, a desperate attempt to calm the words he could feel rising like acid in his throat. It didn’t work, though Easton didn’t try very hard. He rarely did when alone. “I am owed this, you miserable old bastard,” he hissed out from behind his teeth, sounding like the snake he had just claimed to be. “I will take everything because this is Your fault, and I will make your precious sheep pay for every inch of Your mistake. It’s mine, I deserve it.” A hand was clenched into a fist in his lap and Easton shifted forward, only to slam it into the wood of the pew ahead of him. “It’s mine.”

He stood suddenly, coat rising around him like smoke rising around a fire, warning the world of the danger just over there. Turning on his heel, he left the cathedral without a look back, without a fear of God. And though there had been no one around, the air hung heavy with a question. Just which father had he been addressing?

Extras: If you have anything else you’d like to include (further headcanons, an inspo tag, a mock blog, etc), feel free to share it here! This is OPTIONAL.

I submitted this through an Easton mock blog! There was going to be stuff there but my laptop crashed and I need to eat dinner!

[palettepainter]

OK! So i just read the shipping stories your friend wrote about Marx and Celeste and I gotta say they write pretyu well. Do you have any headcannons for that couple?

I got a few headcannons for them, but it’ll be a long while before these two end up hitching it off as lovers - I can’t say when exactly there love story will take place or when it’ll be worked on, still figuring out which books I’ll work on after my main book series.

-Celestina is known to be one of Safe Haven’s most popular celebrity icons, her fashion and singing career instantly shooting her up to the top of the charts and her name became known through out the district. Her very aristocratic, pristine and smart looks often lead to people believing she is snobby, dismissive and some even think of her to be intimidating. Celestina today in Safe Haven is actually sweet, loving and perhaps just a wee bit childish. She is much more involved with her fans then other celebrities and excitedly organises charity concerts. Her main job is of course on the stage, and her favourite songs to sing are the ones which promote loving who you are and dreaming big. Her favourite hobbies when she isn't singing include reading romance novels, enjoying a nice afternoon at her private estate and being a goofy embarrassing mother to her easily embarrassed daughter Valentina

-Celestina owns a very large estate, she lives within a large decked up manner house with immense land and even a large pond. Although Celestina over time has grown fond to enjoy the more finer things in life, never lost her warmth or hospitality and to this day continues to make monthly donations to various charities. She also owns a smaller patch of land alongside a humble little cottage, she often goes there to get away from the public eye and to relax every now and then

-Celestina and Marx didn't meet through your typical bump into each other and then magically make eye contact shtick nonono...they met when they got stuck in an elevator together, and Marx just happened to be running late to deliver some very important script papers to his impatient boss Castello. Celestina is, to say the very least, not entirely sure what to do in the situation: Trapped in an elevator with a very panicked looking stranger who’s mumbling incoherently to himself. It wasn’t until Celestina cleared her throat did Marx actually notice her, and the fact he was stuck in the elevator with THE Celestina! Awkward introductions aside the two chat, getting to know each other and such. At some point Marx mentions how Castello is going to make him into dragon skin boots when he arrives at his office, seeing how distressed and genuinely terrified this man looked. The two are soon thankfully rescued by staff and Celestina’s body guards, Marx obviously tries to navigate his way as quickly as he can through the crowd, but alas ends up simply causing more trouble for himself: Stepping on peoples feet, bumping into people, and the cherry on top was when he tripped over her own feet, and ended up launching all the coffee, tea and refreshments off the table. Marx is a mess when he arrives to Castello’s office, only to find a very happy looking Celestina and a rather calm looking Castello. Celestina later went to Marx at the end of the day and told him she had briefly explained the situation and what had happened, and in return for Castello letting this one incident slide she offers to make her next performance at the E!District with Castello’s company, this is where Marx and Celestina really being to get to know each other

-Marx was never seen as a very confident swooner of the ladies, he had a few college aged women chasing after him, but Marx never really had any of the female employers or actresses her worked with interested in him. Marx ended up falling hard and fast for miss Mimzy, and for a while Mimzy did enjoy his company, until she discovered he was a fumbling idiot. Mimzy at first tries to let him down gently during one of the many dates Marx invited her too, but after that didn’t work Mimzy began to bluntly state her opinion with just a few clever choice of words, leaving Marx embarrassed and slightly hurt. Marx crushes very easily on ladies: Mimzy, Molly and Rosie to name a few. Marx ends up working as Celestina’s guide around the studios, all the while Celestina listens attentively and throws in a few well placed jokes and comments here and there. Marx sword that he would never fall in love again, psh. He didn't NEED love! He was perfect on his own!...He had mixed reactions when he found himself crushing on Celestina. His very aware and sneaky daughter Juliet manages to persuade him to ask Celestina out to a coffee date after studio rehearsals, and she threw in a bouquet of flowers just to be safe. Stuttering, red faced and ready to fain Marx squeaks out his request to a date, and manages to contain the most of his joyed squeal when Celestina happily agrees (This idea was based of a fic my pal @hazbinextgeneration​ wrote for me)

-Celestina plays a vital role in Juliet’s life when she is smaller, growing up very anxious about her body and physical beauty due to Juliet attending a private girls school, Celestina and Juliet end up meeting each other at an autograph signing session, and Juliet manages to sheepishly whisper ask how it was Celestina stayed so beautiful. Celestina was genuinely quite surprised at the question, especially coming from a young girl of Juliet’s age. Juliet ends up spilling the beans after Celestina asks why she asked such a question, she tells her about the bullies, the name calling, the nasty notes they left on her desk. Celestina ends up kneeling down by Juliet and telling her that she IS beautiful! She is nothing those girls say her to be, she is unique in her own way, and she should never be afraid of who she is. Juliet has to fight back tears when Celestina pulls her into a quick hug, and then waves her goodbye as she happily skips to her dad. Juliet may or may not have wanted her dad and Celestina to hook up since then, Juliet is fully on board with supporting their relationship, Valentina is FAR from supportive. She doesn't like Marx

-In the future Marx and Valentina have a bit of a strained farther daughter bond. I can see Marx trying to reach out and Valentina just...stomping his fragile hopes into the ground with a few choice come backs and then walking away with her nose held high. Valentina never had a father figure growing up and did seek approval from the male idol figures/careers in her life, she did honestly want her mother to find someone, but when it actually happened her anxiety and fear of being forgotten by her only parent surfaced to life. Despite what Valentina may think herself and Marx do have some things in common: they’re both hard working and driven, both enjoy being praised and both have their respective reputations to uphold. I can picture the two eventually bonding over theatre directing when Marx allows Valentina to sternly yell out some orders to the performers on stage through the practise run through. They soon become more relaxed around each other and form some sort of mutal trust, soon leading to Valentina allowing Marx to hug her, calling her his daughter, kissing her goodnight, and FINALLY she begins to call him dad

[velveteenlop]

Do Reily for the 20 oc questions!

Get to know my ocs! Reily edition! I’m also assuming you want all 20 answered, this could get long r i p

Do they like rain? Reily loves the rain. A lovely sound to work/build things/read to. Also great cuddle weather.

If they have any pets, what are they? If not, what would they have as a pet? She doesn’t at the moment, but she would love a house full of animals tbh. Cats, a dog... Reptiles too! Specifically geckos, she’s fond of cresties.

What do other people tend to think of them? She isn’t sure to be honest?? Her girlfriend Celeste thinks the world of her though and her twin brother seems to like her well enough so, anyone else’s opinions can jump into the nearest Mako Reactor.

Do they have kids? Do they want to have kids? She has no kids and... well she and her girlfriend haven’t really talked about the possibility of kids? She’d probably have them adopt if they did though.

What’s their favorite color? The exact shade of green used to depict the lifestream.

Describe their eyes. A bit on the wide/large side but almond shaped and proportionally placed on her face. She’s been told the color tends to remind people of purple materia.

What’s their handwriting like? Depends. If others are reading her hand writing it’s nice and neat, almost sort of bubbly. Very school girl adorable. If it’s just notes for her to read, especially concerning whatever she’s building or repairing then it’s chicken scratch and a mix of print and cursive. She learned a long time ago to stop stressing about her hand writing if it’s for her eyes only.

Any phobias? Does her mother count? No? Shame. Dysmorphophobia thanks to her mother, which has also given her Scopophobia to go with it. Scociophobia is probably her biggest, something else to be blamed on by her mother, though she’s pretty sure it was just something she had then exacerbated by her mother’s “help”. She also has Nostophobia, specifically in the form of returning to her childhood home.

If they have a love interest, how did they meet them? How would they describe said love interest? Celeste is more then a love interest, thank you. And honestly it depends on the setting as to how they meet. The more fleshed out setting has them meeting through her brother, who is friends/love interests with one of Celeste’s friends.Honestly Reily would describe Celeste, no matter the setting, as the very best thing to happen to her. She’s done a lot of good in helping her work through the shit her mother’s instilled in her and absolutely supports her in everything she does. She also knows the best way to talk to her about things when she does something problematic or if they get into a fight. Sometimes she feels like she wouldn’t exist without Celeste being there.

How would their love interest describe them? Amazing? Perfect? The cutest thing on two legs and how did she ever get so fucking lucky to find someone like Reily to put up with the horrible gremlin she is? Also the best partner in crime. (All real things Celeste has said about Reily.)

How many times have they fallen in love? Actually fallen in love? Just the once, with Celeste. Though growing up she had a huge crush on one of her cousins, embarrassingly huge. She doesn’t like talking about it.

How many people broke their hearts? None. Again, Cel’s been her only love. 

How many hearts did they break? She assumes none, because she actually refused to date or get invested in love thanks to her mother, until Celeste changed all that. If there is a number she’ll never know it.

Favorite fruit? Strawberries!

Favorite vegetable? Cucumbers, and their cousin the pickle.

Do they have any mental illnesses? If so, what are they and how do they make everyday life harder? See her list of phobias honestly lol. Her mother’s done a number on her mental health.

Did they grow up poor, rich, or somewhere in between? Rich in most settings though she does her best to not show it or come off as a spoiled rich child. 

Where did they grow up? In the more fleshed out setting she spent most of her time growing up in a private boarding school away from her brother and the only grounding point in her life. The school did little to help get her away from the mistreatments she went through with her mother, which she always seemed to be bombarded by worse whenever she came home for the holidays.

What were their parents like? She doesn’t know her father, or what his status even is, but her mother was a very controlling woman who cared only for perfection. Perfectly well behaved children who behaved to her standards, children who were thin and perfect in looks (Reily is and always has been a very heavy set child, something she gets from her father but that’s all she knows about him). She was also loud and horrible whenever either of her children didn’t do what she expected or how she expected it, even though she’d never give them the information to stay on her good side. She’s a very emotionally abusive and manipulative woman who approves of neither of her childrens’ s/o’s (to which they simply don’t care).

Do they like the ocean? If they do, what do they like about it? She loves the sound and smell of the ocean, it’s a very calming thing for her. She isn’t a fan of swimming in the water, however. If she could bottle up the ocean and put it in a pool to simply float in she’d be quite happy.

[prettylittlelyres]

She Has No Name (update)

I shake my head. “I don’t want to call. I’m happy to be going to Freymouth Miles, and that’s an end to it. Besides, I leave next week. Not only have I already been given a room in halls there, I couldn’t get a spot anywhere else, not at this point. All the places have gone, on courses and in halls. Even in Freymouth, I’m not going to be living on campus.”

“But, Celeste…” Grandma’s face crumples. “The whole point of your implant, of sending you to normal schools, was so that you could have a normal life. I can’t believe you’d give that up.”

“I’m not asking you to believe it,” I say, shaking my head. “Any more than I asked you to believe I wanted to take A’ Level English Literature when I did. I just… did it. And you acknowledged it as something that was happening. Because that’s what’s going on now. I’m going to Freymouth Miles University for the Deaf, and that’s happening, too.” I smile. “I mean, ideally, I’d quite like your approval, but I’ll still go without it.”

Grandpa rolls his eyes, and sighs heavily like he’s dying. “There’s really nothing we can do to make you change your mind, is there?” he mumbles.

I swallow another mouthful of tea, and shake my head. “I didn’t know that was the point of this party,” I say, “I thought we were here for Uncle Jim’s birthday.” Pushing back my chair, I stand up, straighten my denim skirt, and smile. “And speaking of Uncle Jim’s birthday, I really must go and wish him a happy one.”

The day is a hot one, and I can feel sweat dripping down my sides under my Fair Isle sweater. It’s made from very fine cotton yarn, but that doesn’t mean much for the heat. The forecast was for rain, and we fully expected to have to sit indoors the whole party, but the skies turned blue between Exeter and Padstow, and suddenly my lovely jumper and beautiful dyke boots turned out to be entirely the wrong choice for the day. But I would probably die for the aesthetic if I had to, so… a little hot weather is nothing.

I’m currently 4,000 words into the first draft of She Has No Name, and I’ve finished writing Chapter Two! Fun facts about this chapter:

I do not like Celeste’s grandparents at all, and her parents are complacent lil... things.... and I do not like them either. It gets a lot better for Celeste. Actually, let’s make that its own fact, and keep it here as well, so you can be sure it’ll happen, because...

It gets a lot better for Celeste. She’s right about to realise she deserves a lot better than people at home give her, and she is going to absolutely bloody love being at Freymouth Miles University for the Deaf!

I entirely forgot the following words, writing this chapter, because I am just that on fire all the time always:

Padstow (actually, the name of every single place in Cornwall except Land’s End, which I didn’t want to write into the story because I have already written a story involving Land’s End and God still hasn’t forgiven me)

cake stand (I could see the thing!! I could picture the exact thing I wanted to name, but... actually name it? Nope. The worst part is, I’ve taken a Psycholinguistics module at university (absolutely my favourite one, good Lord, it’s brilliant) so I know that’s called the lemma activation without lexeme, which does... not help... at all...)

Going through Clearing for university is cool and people who make you feel bad about it are not worth your time (as Celeste finds). Clearing’s fine.

Celeste moves to Freymouth and into halls next chapter! I’m very excited about that, because she meets some absolute darlings there, but also... because I get to write a villain... like an even worse villain than, like... everyone else that isn’t Celeste that we’ve seen so far... huzzah... but it gets better for her!

[tennesseeprelawland]

Little Fires Everywhere: Asking The Divisive Question Of What is the Best Interest Of A Child

By Abigail Morici, Rhodes College Class of 2021

June 3, 2020

Little Fires Everywhere (2020) started streaming on Hulu in March. Since then, the mini-series has garnered critical acclaim with a 78% critic approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes. [1]The show, based on the popular 2017novel by Celeste Ng, explores the dynamics of Mia Warren (Kerry Washington) and Elena Richardson (Reese Witherspoon), two mothers trying to act for their children’s best interests. These two mothers diverge in what they think is best for their children, and a controversial adoption case, which soon takes center stage, highlights this increasing tension between the two mothers.

The case involves Elena’s friendLinda McCullough (Rosemarie DeWitt) and Mia’s co-worker Bebe Chow (Huang Lu). With Mia’s intervention, Bebe learns that the McCullough family is proceeding with the adoption of her one-year-old daughter, whom she left at a fire-station out of desperation. Bebe had been struggling financially and suffering from postpartum depression. After leaving her daughter, Bebe regretted doing so and had been searching for her ever since. By the time Bebe discovers her daughter’s whereabouts, she has seemingly regained control over her life. With Mia’s help and support, Bebe sues the McCulloughs for custody of her daughter. A media storm ensues as the arguments in court ramp up, accusing Bebe of being an unfit mother for abandoning her daughter and accusing Linda of being dismissive of her Chinese baby’s race and culture. Eventually, the case ends in the McCulloughs’ favor, granting them full custody over Bebe.

Overall, the adoption case in Little Fires Everywhere explores the theme of motherhood that is present throughout the eight-episodes, but the adoption case narrows in on the legal definition of mother, or even a parent—a question that was especially pertinent during the 90s, in which the show is set.After all, in the 90s, highly publicized adoption cases made waves in the nation—particularly the Baby Jessica (1991-1993) and Baby Richard (1991-1995) cases. These cases, involving adoptive parents and the biological parents, resonate with the case presented in Little Fires Everywhere, especially as they explore the question of what qualifies as being in the best interest of the child.

Baby Jessica was born on February 8, 1991, to an unmarried Cara Clausen in Iowa. Two days after the birth, she signed a release of custody and named Scott Seefeldt as the father, who soon signed his own release of custody. By the end of the month, a juvenile court hearing terminated their parental rights and awarded temporary custody to Michigan-residents Roberta and Jan DeBoer. Nine days later, Clausen filed a motion to revoke her release of custody, revealing that the father was Daniel Schmidt, not Seefeldt.[2]The Iowa court denied Clausen the revocation of her parental rights, by the end of 1991, but after genetic tests proved that Schmidt was the father, it recognized that Schmidt had not signed away his parental rights. Consequently, the court nullified the DeBoer’s adoption before it was finalized. [3]

Unwilling to give up Jessica without a fight, the DeBoers invoked the help of the media and discovered that Schmidt fathered two other children out of wedlock, neither of whom he supported. When the Iowa Supreme Court agreed to hear the case in January 1992, this fact was later pointed to as evidence that Schmidt, now married to Clausen, was an unfit parent. However, in April of that year, the Iowa Supreme Court upheld the lower court’s ruling, believing that “‘[a]lthough Dan's fitness as a parent was questionable, his rights held priority over Jessica’s’”. [3]

Still, the DeBoers did not quit in their battle for custody. That December, “the DeBoers filed a petition in the Washtenaw Circuit Court of Michigan, asking the court to assume jurisdiction under the Uniform Child Custody Jurisdiction Act (UCCJA).”[2]Under this pretense, the judge assumed jurisdiction on behalf of the state of Michigan. In February 1993, he awarded custody to the DeBoers, believing that according to Jessica’s best interest, there was “much to lose and little to gain” in moving Jessica to Iowa.[3]

However, after the Schmidts appealed this judgment, in July 1993, Michigan’s highest court ruled that Michigan held no jurisdiction and granted Baby Jessica to the Schmidts.“It is now time for the adults to move beyond saying that their only concern is the welfare of the child,” the court wrote.Three days later, Jessica left the DeBoers and went with Cara and Dan Schmidt to Iowa. She was renamed Anna Jacqueline Schmidt.[4]

The case and the eventual decision divided the public, especially as they argued what the best interest of the child meant for Baby Jessica. Ad hoc Justice for Jessi groups organized a bus trip to D.C. to protest on the steps of the Supreme Court, while groups supporting the rights of biological parents delighted in the Schmidts’ victory. Even psychiatric professionals were divided. In an interview with People, Dr. Elissa Benedek, a professor of clinical psychiatry at the University of Michigan, stated, “‘This little girl is losing everything she is familiar with…Her parents, her room, many of her favorite toys and even her name. It is an absolute tragedy for Jessica.’” On the other hand, Joe Soil, a psychotherapist and director of the Council for Equal Rights in Adoption, which supports the rights of biological parents, maintained, “The impact of the separation of mother and child is tremendous and severe … [I]t leaves a mark down to one’s toes—one’s self-esteem is damaged, one’s ability to function in the world.” [5]

Meanwhile, in Chicago, a similar case was proceeding with Baby Richard. In March 1991, Daniella Janikova, a Czechoslovakian immigrant, gave birth to a boy. After deciding to place her baby up for adoption prior to his birth, she was in contact with the Warburtons, who were the future adoptive parents. She told them that she knew who the father was but intended to tell him the baby had died. The Warburtons acquiesced to this plan, and Janikova put that the father was unknown on the birth certificate.[6]A few days after the birth, Janikova executed a “Final and Irrevocable Consent to Adoption,” and the Warburtons filed a petition for adoption. Later that month, the Warburtons received custody of the baby.[2]

However, in May 1991, Otakar Kirchner the biological father, who was also a Czechoslovakian immigrant, discovered that his son had not died, and in June, he and his lawyer intervened in the adoption proceedings.[7]Eventually, in December, after Janikova and Kirchner married, the court found that Kirchner was the biological father. Later that month, the Warburtons filed an amended petition to adopt, maintaining that Kirchner was an unfit parent and that his consent for adoption was not required under Illinois law. In May 1992, with the argument of the best interest of Richard in mind, the court ruled that, Kirchner was an unfit parent, for he did not “demonstrate a reasonable degree of interest, concern or responsibility as to the welfare of a newborn child during the first 30 days after the birth.” [2] Kirchner’s parental rights were terminated, but he filed an appeal. [2] However, the appellate court agreed that “‘it would be contrary to the best interest of Richard to ‘switch’ parents at this stage of his life.’” [8]

After failing to attain custody once again in the appellate courts, Kirchner appealed to the Illinois Supreme Court, which overturned the previous rulings, invalidating the adoption and granting custody to the biological parents. According to Justice Heiple, “[Since] the father's parental interest was improperly terminated, there was no occasion [for the appellate court] to reach the factor of the child's best interest.” Further, he wrote, “If [the] best interests of the child were a sufficient qualification to determine child custody, anyone with superior income, intelligence, education, etc., might challenge and deprive the parents of their right to their own children.” [2]Just as in the case of Baby Jessica, a media storm ensued when the Kirchners took Richard home. [7]

Overall, with such attention to this case and to the case of Baby Jessica, the public remained divided on what role the best interest of a child should play in the decision of a legal parent. Is a child better off in an adoptive family with better financial means to raise the child in a stable environment—a family that the child has known since birth? Or is it best for a child to remain with its biological parents, even if their ability to raise the child in a stable environment is questionable? Does nurture or nature predominate? These are the same questions that Little Fires Everywhere draws its modern audience to ask, even as the final decision of the fictional case favors the adoptive parents over the biological mother, unlike the cases of Baby Jessica and Baby Richard. [9]

Speaking to this question of the best interest of the child, Kelson writes that “The best interest of the child should be the primary concern in determining custody.” However, the term best interest of the child provides too much room for subjectivity, especially as it “‘has the potential for misuse because the standard is based on vague or nonexistent criteria, opening the custody decision to social biases.’” This in turn means that often the “final placement of the child is often completed to satisfy the adult parties to the proceedings and not follow what is truly in the child's best interest.” With this in mind, Kelson argues that a uniform nation-wide definition of the best interest of the child is necessary for future adoption cases like the Baby Richard and Baby Jessica cases and by extension the case in Little Fires Everywhere.[2]Until then, the best interest of the child will likely continue to divide the public just as it does in the show. After all, what it means to be a parent is difficult to boil down to a single definition, legal or otherwise.

________________________________________________________________

[1] “Little Fires Everywhere: Season 1 (2020).” Rotten Tomatoes, https://www.rottentomatoes.com/tv/little_fires_everywhere/s01.

[2] Kelson, Gregory A. “In the Best Interest of the Child: What Have We Learned from Baby Jessica and Baby Richard, 22 J. Marshall L. Rev 353 (2000).” The John Marshall Law Review, vol. 33, issue 2, Winter 2000, pp. 353-381, https://repository.jmls.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1560&context=lawreview.

[3] Ryan, Jr., Bernard. “Baby Jessica Case: 1993: Biological Mother Regrets Adoption.” Law Library-American Law and Legal Information, https://law.jrank.org/pages/3576/Baby-Jessica-Case-1993-Biological-Mother-Regrets-Adoption.html.

[4] Ryan, Jr., Bernard. “Baby Jessica Case: 1993: The Battle Over Jessica Continues.” Law Library-American Law and Legal Information, https://law.jrank.org/pages/3577/Baby-Jessica-Case-1993-Battle-Over-Jessica-Continues.html.

[5] Hewitt, Bill. “Losing Jessi.” People, 19 July 1993, https://people.com/archive/cover-story-losing-jessi-vol-40-no-3/.

[6] Zito, Anthony S. “Baby Richard and Beyond: The Future for Adopted Children.” Northern Illinois University Law Review, vol. 18, 1998, pp. 445-479. Northern Illinois University: Huskie Commons: Digital Repository, https://commons.lib.niu.edu/bitstream/handle/10843/22379/18-3-445-Zito-pdfA.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y.

[7] Melton, Jr., Buckner F. “Baby Richard Trial: 1991-95.” Encyclopedia.com, https://www.encyclopedia.com/law/law-magazines/baby-richard-trial-1991-95.

[8] Warren, Ellen and Andrew Fegelman. “Court Rules for Adopted Child.” Chicago Tribune, 19 August 1993, https://www.chicagotribune.com/news/ct-xpm-1993-08-19-9308190123-story.html.

[9] Admittedly, the Baby Jessica and Baby Richard cases dealt with the biological father who had not voluntarily relinquished parental rights, which the McCulloughs argue Bebe Chow seemingly does when leaving her daughter at a fire station. See the Safe Haven Law. However, it is pertinent to point out that Bebe Chow admits that she soon searches for her baby after leaving her behind, possibly meaning that she could have fallen in the time-frame which allocates for revocation of parental rights.

[pamphletstoinspire]

Saint Alphonsus Liguori - Feast Day: August 1st - Ordinary Time

Take care of your own soul...before saving the rest of the world: " I Love Jesus Christ and that is why I am on fire with the desire to give Him souls, first of all my own, and then an incalculable number of others." St. Alphonsus Liguori

Saint Alphonsus Liguori

Youth

Alphonsus Liguori was born on September 27, 1696, in a suburb of Naples, Italy. He was the eldest of eight children. His father, Don Giuseppe, entered the navy at the age of fifteen and attained the rank of commanding officer of a flagship of the Royal Navy. He was an authoritarian who ran his family in the same manner. Alphonsus’ mother, Anna Cavalieri, was a gentle soul who was plagued by scruples and given to a highly ascetical piety. Alphonsus inherited both the authoritarianism of his father and the religious scrupulosity of his mother. Belonging economically and socially to the upper class, Alphonsus received an excellent education in the humanities and in the study of civil and Church law. He earned a double doctorate from the University of Naples. Suffering from myopia and chronic asthma prevented Alphonsus from following in his father’s footsteps, so his father steered him into the legal profession. After losing an important court case, Alphonsus walked out of the court in disgust exclaiming, "Ah, world, I know you now!" He also refused more than two paternally planned betrothals because his scruples did not make him a prime candidate for courtship or marriage. Under the guidance of his mother’s spiritual director, the Oratorian Thomas Pagano, who remained Alphonsus’ director for almost thirty years, he joined various Oratorian confraternities which provided spiritual services for its members as well as apostolic work at the Hospital for Incurables and at the local prisons. Alphonsus and his father also attended annual retreats given by the Vincentians and the Jesuits. It was during a Vincentian retreat in 1722 that Liguori experienced a radical conversion. Although still a lawyer at the time, he rejected his secular lifestyle for a more spiritual one, and made a personal vow of celibacy. His father was not at all pleased and the growing tension exploded when Alphonsus announced his decision to become a priest. A compromise decision was reached with his father and he entered the diocesan priesthood.

Diocesan Priest

By August 1726, Alphonsus was on the verge of a psychosomatic breakdown and received the last rites. He slowly recovered and by December 21 he was well enough to be ordained a priest. He lived at home for the next three years and then moved to the Chinese College, an institute founded by Matthew Ripa who was a missionary who had recently been expelled from China. Liguori lived there with a young friend, Gennaro Sarnelli who was simply a boarder at the college. Alphonsus introduced an innovated apostolic technique called the Evening Chapels. This was a program whereby he and a few of his priest friends organized and trained lay catechists. These catechists would then work out of slums, catechizing the poor lazzaroni, the beggars, and street people of Naples. During this period, Liguori was bothered by long bouts of introspection and scrupulosity over his new obligations and burdens as a priest. Obeying doctor’s orders, Alphonsus took a leave of absence from Naples and went to the Amalfi coast. There, despite his work in the slums of Naples, he was shocked by the spiritual abandonment of the poor mountaineers and began catechizing them in the small chapel of Holy Mary of the Mountains. After returning to Naples, he continued to worry about these poor souls and wondered where were the priests who could help them.

Redemptorist Founder

After he returned to Naples, a woman entered his life! Sister Celeste Crostarosa (1696-1755) was a Neapolitan just one month younger than Alphonsus. A former Carmelite now living in a Visitation convent at Scala, she began to claim to receive divine revelations concerning the founding of a new institute for women, whose Rule she was to write under divine inspiration. Gossip about the Scala visionary was rife in Naples and news of her growing conflicts with the convent’s spiritual director, Thomas Falcona, spread. Falcola was Alphonsus’ director as well as Celeste���s, and he asked Liguori to examine the troubled convent. Alphonsus was impressed with Celeste and concluded that her project was indeed the work of God. What he did not know then was that within a year she would claim she had received divinely revealed plans for a new missionary institute of men, of whom Liguori was to be the founder. His reluctance to make sudden decisions held him back and Alphonsus spent almost a year consulting theologians in Naples before he finally accepted his role as founder of the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, which took its first shaky steps on November 9, 1732. Immediately, Liguori found himself caught in the middle of a multifaceted conflict involving Sister Celeste and Falcola (now a bishop), who was revising Celeste’s Rules for the men and the women. An interfering lay theologian also added fire to the emotional conflagration. Liguori survived the growth pains of his new institute; Celeste was not as fortunate. By 1747 the Redemptorists numbered thirty-six members and were in great demand throughout the kingdom. They had a reputation of nearness to the people, a popular and solid preaching style, and a benign pastoral approach in the confessional. Fifteen years later, the Congregation had grown to one hundred fifty members. On Easter Monday, 1733, Celeste was dismissed from the convent at Scala because of changes that Falcola had made to her rule. She finally settled at Foggia, after journeying to several convents and established her own convent according to her original, unadultered Rule. She died in 1755. During his stint as rector major, Liguori joined the struggle against moral rigorism. Two systems of morality were prevalent, the Dominicans supporting the rigorist and the Jesuits defending laxism. His approach avoided the extremes of both theories, and he published his monumental Moral Theology, as well as the eminently pastoral Guide for Confessors. He also published a number of apologies, including The Moderate Use of the Probable Opinion. Alphonsus moral teachings were vindicated by the Holy See during his lifetime. After his death, Rome gave its seal of approval, declaring him a Doctor of the Church and the patron of moralists and confessors. His literary output was not limited to moral theology. His works were directed to every category of Christians and his writings spanned fifty productive years.

Bishop

In March 1762, Clement XIII appointed Alphonsus bishop of St. Agatha of the Goths which was located near Naples. Alphonsus took possession of his diocese in July 1762. Despite his poor health, he threw himself into this new ministry with vigor. His first order of business was to reform the serious ecclesiastical abuses in the diocese, beginning with the renewal of seminary and a spiritual rehabilitation of the clergy and faithful. Second, he attacked the practice of public concubinage, even soliciting the aid of civil authorities. He organized general missions for the diocese that utilized his own Redemptorist missionaries. He also established social welfare programs for the poor and even opened his episcopal palace to the needy. Ill health and complaints against his reforms resulted in his resignation in May 1775, which Pius VI accepted.

Final Years

Alphonsus returned to Pagani "to prepare for death." Here he was to suffer the biggest disappointment of his life. The Congregation’s Rule, which Benedict XIV had approved in 1749, had never received royal approval. In 1779 two Redemptorists, Father Cimino and Calone, were sent to negotiate with the royal court for approval. The eighty-three-year-old Liguori, deaf, practically blind and unable to read or write, put complete trust in his emissaries. Unfortunately, they made extraordinary concessions to the regalist authorities, watering down the original papal Rule to the point of being unrecognizable. The almost senile rector major was duped into signing this governmental Regolamento. The vows of religion were changed to mere oaths, the vow of poverty disappeared altogether, the oath of perseverance was omitted, and the local bishops were given the power over the internal affairs of the Congregation. General Chapters were wiped out of the text completely. This document was delivered to Liguori in March 1780 and when the radical changes were explained to him, he went into severe depression. The Pope was chagrined at the Congregation’s acceptance of the Regolamento, which so blatantly contradicted the papal Rule. Only the Redemptorists within the Papal States continued as canonically approved Redemptorists. Six years later, on August 1, 1787, Liguori died, still technically outside the Congregation he had founded. The process for his canonization began a few months after his death. He was beatified in 1816 and in 1839 he was canonized. In March 1871, Pius IX declared him a Doctor of the Church, and in 1950, Pius XII declared Alphonsus the official patron of moralists and of confessors.

[bluekitsune]

Late NDRV3 Chapter 6 + Epilogue impressions

HOLY SHIT ITS SPY BOY ITS SPY BOY ITS SPY BOY???? DANGAN RONPA 0 IN MY V3/???????????????????.... No It couldn’t be. He’s long dead. Yuto Kamishiro can’t be this “Makoto”.  Is Normal-chan our Spoiler-chan? Hmm. I just have a gut feeling he’s a Despair idk why And if he’s so normal, how was he on Kibougamine? Was it the first or the new school??????? HMMM????????

KIBO NO Don’t........ I don’t want him to die noooo >:C DONT TOUCHY THE ROBOT ....... He might be disconnected from Naegey but he’s still our pinnochio. Kibo wtf plz

Ouma the ultimate fanboy of Movie Vilains. I stg (dem funny glasses omg...... Afro wigs, batcar? He’s a total fanboy) What the fuck is up with the DICE thing?

Oh I knew the Remembering Light was delayed. But what was the point? Hinder them investigating the Mystery of the school? That’s fuckign cheap. Is that the same Makoto from the initial flashback? I’m gonna bet my ass it is.

Is he calling “them” heroes because the Future Foundation members survived a Killing Game, if Tenjou’s game could even be called that? Hmm Did FF fall or not?

OMFG OUMA GRABBED AMAMI’S DOLL........ That’s gay 

That horse mask wtf  He was a closeted clown all along wow...... Is he a Joker fan? Crimes with laughter and no killing? Color me confused. I guess the Panta should’ve been a massive giveaway. Did he fall into despair after his crew was taken prisioner? I.... 

Now he’s gonna pull us by the nose again? Wow. OK

“Ro is Twins”? rantaRO? ShiROgane? Is this pointing to the Mastermind again? Like when he said the first one to die is related to the mastermind? Is that why we werent allowed into Amami’s room?

OH MY GOD THAT throwback. The nostalgia bricked me in the face. FUCK.... So it definitely wasn’t Kibougamine that erased their talents. Then, who was it? Was it the “Remnants of Despair” aka the SDR2 crew? Who enabled them to erase their talent and hide from the SHSL Hunt?

CHARGE THE KIBO POWER

Omg Ro is twins...... The Gemini dial! Uma is HORSE????? Horse head?????? How far into this did Ouma know? This started being written in chapter 2 no?

Oh so the weird background was Amami’s room... And he was talking to his future, memoryless self? That’s nuts;; Uhm.......  I cannot hold all these wtfs. Did he survive a killing game....... Done with these same students? Done with other students? Because if I was right about them actually being revived and Mastermind redoing it over and over, then he could have survived one of the “previous” “same” Killing Game. But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself @_@ Trying to piece all this shit together is always nuts without the final reveal. But if that were the case, wouldn’t he have had another talent, the talent that got him into the SHSL category in the first place?

NO....... How dare you show me everyone being friends? How dare you shove that in my face

Not this twin bullshit again. If you tell me her twin is Monaka i’m gonna murder myself

Catch ALL THE BUGS. It’s kinda cute that Ouma planned something like that, even if he was the cause for Gonta’s death....... I’m guessing there’s some nanomachine that they mistook for bugs 

MONOKUMA PLANNED PARENTHOOD omfg. That tacky as fuck room. Of course it has to be a Junko fan. And HO look at the bullshit murder again. Is it just gonna be “Amami was very conveniently killed by the mastermind instead of by Bakamatsu’s trap and she was executed wrongly everyone cries” thing? It’s funny Amami had the cheat map version, kinda like if you start Castlevania with the hidden places.

ANOTHER hidden passage in the bathroom...... I’m not even surprised. 

I KNEW IT. There WERE lies in the Remembering Light. The question is how to tell between them. Saihara why u not look through all the directories god dingit U friggin detective bitch

Kibo is so cool :C He’s just so damn Megaman cool. Fuse Megaman and Raiden and you have Kiboo

Ok so..... maybe instead of clones, there’s... the one that has some sort of Time travel would be? The mastermind? Kaede’s twin? Time for some 999 SteinsGate bullshit. But then why would they say they can bring back the dead? How would that even work?

Oh no .... I was just thinking Shirogane had very little spotlight moments and even less character development. Now everything points to the Mastermind being a student 

:CCC WELL..... It’d make her switching clothes with Akamatsu even more ironic. Also again it’d be a twin with blonde hair and a twin with blue hair. What IS IT with this combination??? 

SMH..... The passage in the bathroom completely fucks over Shirogane. Because she’s the only one that was in the girl’s bathroom for a long time. I shouldve known better than to let myself like her......... Nooooooooooo

53 generation bullshit? What the dicks is this? Hmm. V3. 53 huh. They screwed us over a lot

Yeah so if the memories were indeed false now we proceed to question everything. Is this false too, is this false too? For all we know the world could still be fucked but not from asteroids. But what would be the point if they weren’t even from Kibougamine? That would just be lame.

Are they in a simulation again?????? Suddenly Hinata?????? What

Now that’s just shitposting. They’re gonna pull the “it’s fiction” card. 

Well. This is extreme shitposting. Are they calling the fanbase sick sadistic fucks? “u guys watching these poor people kill each other” or something? 

I cannot hold this level of meta. All these wall breaks

I CANT BREATHE, LOOK AT THE TITLE SHITPOSTING???? It’s exactly like series that go on too long

So is solving that one case what landed Saihara in this? Or are their talents actually fabricated as well? <_> Are the people dead or alive?????? TEll me gonta is alive plz Nope they’re dead. They’re all dead for the sake of Tsumugi’s OCs........... GHHGJHDSGJH

Yep we were played hardcore. All the first appearances were the real appearances.

I really REALLY missed the DR1/2 voices DAMN. Fujisaki :C Ishimaru..... Even Celeste FUCK. Was Sayaka’s voice always this amazing? I love how harsh Peko’s voice is,,,,,, I love the DR2 crew so much....... cries on hands

So many out of character sayings. I’m sure the characters would loathe seeing themselves say some of those things lmao god

I think they got a real point. How you can suffer and be in pain with a “lie”, a fiction, but also how you can feel joy and hope out of the same lie/fiction.The dillema of fiction, of experimenting with taboo topics, in this example the killing, and questioning how much it plays a part into the reality side.

But in this case, it’s going to another level. Like questioning human existence in SOMA. If you take a real human mind and place it in a robotic body, can it still be called a human existence? Can humans scanned and preserved in a “fiction” still be called human? 

The ideas are very fucking smart. Kodaka trolled us hard while also questioning the entire fanbase and his series base. And dang, all those inside jokes. They really took a good long look at the fandom and how we think; But it’s still hilarious it’s all orchestrated by a greedy company, ran by a delirious cosplayer fangirl and feeding the masses that want both the negative and the positive points of the plot/characters

Kaito was in it for mundane reasons and ended up with the meaningful “protag” role huh. I wonder what bullshit Korekiyo said to earn himself such a shitty background story. I like his character. Just..... I wish his reasons were not bad writing. Tsumugi u done fucked up

Robot Bondage? I strangely approve of that

Shirogane waving goodbye with mascot,. throwback to Chiaki....... CRIES

:C Well I was right in not expecting Kibo to live. But still he’s the best survey processor ever. My favorite quiz boy. I will pretend you’re alive and well flying up the clouds cuz FUCK IT

In a sense, it’s like they’re blowing up a literal hole into ending the series and opening a path to direct the fans back to reality, or per say, the outside. “Go out there, do the thing, hope out there.”

In a world where your identity and truths and lies are uncertain, you have to pave a way for yourself taking the best out of it all? I’m sure someone will reason this game ending and the analogies way more eloquently, but anyway.

I really enjoyed the story. The extra effort they put on CGs really enrichened everything. I’m not sure how I feel about the big big big plot twist yet. I guess it’s something to slowly digest over time. Can’t say this is my favorite.

Was the time travel thing a misunderstanding by the fans or a prank by Kodaka? I kept expecting it and it was nowhere

I’d say in most to least fav, I’m still with SDR2, DR0, DR1, and last? DRAE. I still don’t know how to feel about Another Episode or the animes TBH

So this was me going through this rollercoaster. If you read this so far, then I hope you laughed at my stupid at least once. I’m gonna go and reblog a fuckton of fanart now. Bye

[floraexplorer]

2019 Reading Challenge: What Books Did I Read Last Year?

2019 was the year I finally got myself back into reading.

It was the year I re-discovered the joys of owning a library card. The year when going to bed with a book became one of my most treasured ways to both fall asleep and practice a bit of self-care.

So when I read Candice’s 2019 reading challenge post I immediately wanted to write one for myself! I’ve never done one of these challenge summaries before, but I’ve spent the last few years becoming increasingly obsessed with adding books to my Goodreads account so it makes a lot of sense.

Besides, I’d like to write more blog posts which make me happy in 2020 – especially those I can write and publish in the same afternoon.

My 2019 reading list

Number of books you read: Thirty three.

Number of re-reads: Zero.

Number of books you stopped reading: Six. I’ve only recently decided that if I don’t engage enough with a book after fifty odd pages then I’ll stop reading. This year that meant I abandoned Jog On by Bella Mackie, The Mermaid and Mrs. Hancock by Imogen Hermes Gowar, and Seven and a Half Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton.

Genre you read the most from: A good mix of fiction and memoir. Quite a few relating to grief. A couple of travel narratives in there too – and a few crime novels!

Midnight Chicken & Other Recipes Worth Living For – Ella Risbridger

Red Snow – Will Dean

My Brilliant Friend – Elena Ferrante

A Manual for Heartache – Cathy Rentzenbrink

The Lucky Ones – Julianne Pachico

I Am, I Am, I Am: Seventeen Brushes with Death – Maggie O’Farrell

The Brief History of the Dead – Kevin Brockmeier

All The Hidden Truths – Claire Askew

Grief is the Thing with Feathers – Max Porter

Departures – Anna Hart

Everything I Never Told You – Celeste Ng

The Gloaming – Kirstie Logan

Room – Emma Donoghue

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves – Karen Joy Fowler

The Shock of the Fall – Nathan Filer

Everything I Know About Love – Dolly Alderton

Educated – Tara Westover

This Must Be the Place – Maggie O’Farrell

The Fact of a Body: A Murder and a Memoir – Alexandria Marzano-Lesnevich

The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender – Leslye Walton

Elizabeth is Missing – Emma Healey

This Is Going to Hurt: Secret Diaries of a Junior Doctor – Adam Kay

Normal People – Sally Rooney

Traveling with Ghosts: A Memoir – Shannon Leone Fowler

Places I Stopped on the Way Home – Meg Fee

The Other Sister – Elle Croft

The Chronology of Water – Lidia Yuknavitch

The Immortalists – Chloe Benjamin

Circe – Madeline Miller

The Lido – Libby Page

A House Full of Daughters: A Memoir of Seven Generations – Juliet Nicolson

Goodbye, Vitamin – Rachel Khong

My Year of Rest and Relaxation – Ottessa Moshfegh

1. Best book you read in 2019?

It’s a tie between Educated by Tara Westover and I Am, I Am, I Am by Maggie O’Farrell.

Educated was a book I thought about constantly. Westover’s style of writing is exactly what gets my creative juices flowing, and her story of a Mormon upbringing in the Idaho mountains with survivalist parents is simply extraordinary.

I Am, I Am, I Am is similarly extraordinary, in part thanks to O’Farrell’s imaginative structure. Each chapter focuses on one of her ‘seventeen brushes with death’ but they jump around in time, gradually building up an impression of how each moment has defined and redefined her life. Plus her language is utterly gorgeous.

2. Book you were excited about & thought you were going to love more but didn’t?

My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante. Even though my best friend had highly recommended it, I couldn’t see what was so compelling about the story.

Yes, the writing is lyrical and paints a good picture of Italian life in the 1950s, but that didn’t change the fact that I was completely apathetic to the progression of the girls’ lives and their relationships. It felt like the same idea spooled out multiple times: Lena wished for Lila’s approval in various situations and either got it or didn’t, and meanwhile various boys appeared on the scene (all of whom fell for Lila immediately).

I pushed through for a good 200 pages without any real desire to keep reading, then skimmed through the final 50 pages with no more enthusiasm than I’d had for the rest of the book.

3. Most surprising (in a good way or bad way) book you read?

In a good way: Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton. After seeing this mentioned repeatedly on Twitter I found a copy at the library, but made a snap decision that it would be quite a fluffy, Instagram-caption kind of book. Instead, I devoured most of it on a long coach journey (coincidentally, on route to visiting one of my best female friends) and kept finding myself nodding along with a smile on my face – I particularly loved that it was about female friendships rather than looking for a romantic relationship to make her ‘whole’.

In a bad way: Normal People by Sally Rooney. This book has such rave reviews that I kept rereading pages to see if I’d somehow missed the point. Strangely this is one of those books which does stay in your mind afterwards – and perhaps that’s part of its appeal – but overall the writing felt sparse, two-dimensional and disconnected.

4. Book you “pushed” the most people to read (and they did)?

Educated by Tara Westover. I raved about this book to so many people (and often reminded them multiple times until they actually read it) because I felt so strongly that Westover’s story needed to be shared.

5. Best series you started in 2019?

Will Dean’s Tuva Moodyson series. I practically inhaled Dark Pines and Red Snow – both of which take place in a remote Swedish town surrounded by creepy forests and alarming characters – and I’m chomping at the bit to read the third instalment of this deaf reporter’s exploits later in 2020. Black River, here I come!

6. Favourite new author you discovered in 2019?

Maggie O’Farrell. I randomly picked up I Am, I Am, I Am off the library shelf because the subtitle of Seventeen Brushes With Death intrigued me. I quickly fell in love with her non-fiction writing, only to discover on finishing it that she has a lengthly back catalogue of fiction too. I’m trying hard to limit myself to one or two of her books each year so I don’t read them all too quickly!

7. Best book from a genre you don’t typically read/was out of your comfort zone?

For some reason, I’ve always assumed that crime novels weren’t my kind of books. I thought they were cheap lit for reading on a flight – but this year I happily discovered that the crime genre can be complex and totally compelling.

Thanks to The Other Sister by Elle Croft, Red Snow by Will Dean and All The Hidden Truths by Claire Askew, I’m now properly converted to the crime and mystery genre!

8. Most action-packed/thrilling/unputdownable book of the year?

This is a tricky one, as nothing I read this year was ‘action-packed’ per se – but there were a few books which felt utterly unputdownable.

I read Room by Emma Donoghue in a single afternoon, curled up on the sofa one Sunday, completely enthralled by the book’s young narrator and the horrific situation he and his mother find themselves in.

I daydreamed about My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottessa Moshfegh whenever the book wasn’t open in front of me, fascinated by the darkness, apathy and self-destructive nature of the central character.

And then there was The Fact of a Body by Alexandria Marzano-Lesnevich, which did strange things to my insides. A combined murder investigation and intensely vulnerable memoir, I still can’t believe what she achieved with this book. In terms of my favourite reads of this year, it’s probably a close third.

9. Book you read in 2019 that you would be MOST likely to re-read next year?

Educated, hands down – but that’s probably so I can feel re-inspired with my own book writing!

10. Favourite cover of a book you read in 2019?

Midnight Chicken by Ella Risbridger. I’ve followed Ella on Twitter for years and was so happy when she finally managed to publish this book of memoir-style recipes – and the hand-drawn cover is absolutely gorgeous. It really reflects her style of writing too; nourishing, detailed, and heartbreakingly humorous.

11. Most memorable character of 2019?

My Year of Rest and Relaxation. I’ve never read a character like this unnamed woman before: someone I found immeasurably frustrating and yet also strangely familiar. In the year after my dad died I felt myself exhibiting many of the same behavioural quirks so I had a strong sense of empathy towards her.

But then there’s also Circe, from the book of the same name by Madeline Miller. Her retelling of the Odysseus story from Circe’s perspective is beautifully written, and although I started reading with the idea that it’d feel too historical to feel relatable, it didn’t take long before I was totally absorbed in her journey. Plus her solo lifestyle on the island is awesome.

12. Most beautifully written book read in 2019?

Grief is the Thing With Feathers by Max Porter. I find it hard to get through a whole year of reading without at least a few grief-related texts, and this is one of the most highly reviewed – yet a little confounding – grief books around at the moment.

Grief is the Thing tells the story of a recently widowed father, his two young sons, and ‘Crow’, who is the embodiment of their grief. The text is sparse, poetic, piecemeal: it’s a quick read in theory, but it stays with you long after you’ve closed the book. I read this while at an Airbnb in Berlin but already know I need to buy my own copy.

13. Most thought-provoking/life-changing book of 2019?

The Fact of a Body by Alexandria Marzano-Lesnevich. This book made my brain ache with the realisation of how many twists and turns the legal system – and the lawyers, police, friends and enemies of the accused – have to take when deciding on a single person’s guilt. Similarly, the ways in which my own opinion could change drastically depending on the facts I learned was surreal.

14. Book you can’t believe you waited until 2019 to finally read?

This is Going to Hurt by Adam Kay. I went to school with his younger sister and I’d seen her sharing his memoir about working in the NHS on Facebook – but it’s such a popular book that the library was constantly out of copies. Despite being written with a comedic slant, Kay’s book is nonetheless a stark look at what’s happened to the UK’s healthcare system, and it’s something of a sobering read.

Nonetheless, everyone should read it.

15. Favourite passage/quote from a book you read in 2019?

“Perhaps the point is not to resist death. Perhaps the point is that there’s no such thing. If Simon and Saul are contacting Klara, then consciousness survives the death of the body. If consciousness survives the death of the body, then everything she’s been told about death isn’t true. And if everything she’s been told about death isn’t true, maybe death is not death at all.”

– The Immortalists by Chloe Benjamin.

16.Shortest and longest book you read in 2019?

Shortest: Grief Is The Thing With Feathers by Max Porter (114 pages)

Longest: This Must Be The Place by Maggie O’Farrell (496 pages)

17. Book that shocked you the most (plot twist, character death, etc)?

The Lucky Ones by Julianne Pachico. Not because of a plot twist but simply because her set of loosely connected short stories set in the conflict years of Colombia took my breath away in a dozen different ways. This book stayed with me for a long time.

18. Favourite non-romantic relationship of the year?

It’s a heart-wrenching relationship, but my most memorable is the connection between Maud and her sister in Elizabeth is Missing. And, in fact, the connection between Maud and the titular Elizabeth too. I didn’t expect this novel to hit me the way it did but I definitely cried at the end (and it’s probably just as worthy of the shock question above this!).

19. Favourite book you read in 2019 from an author you’ve read previously?

I’d only read Will Dean and Celeste Ng previously – everyone else was a new author to me this year – and both of their books were fantastic.

20. Best book you read in 2019 that you read based SOLELY on a recommendation from somebody else?

Probably Everything I Know About Love. Turns out constantly saving Twitter recommendations to my Goodreads account is a good idea after all!

21. Newest fictional crush from a book you read in 2019?

Circe. That girl is COMPLEX, and I always wanted to know what she was going to do next. Also I just wanted to hang out in the island kitchen with her and learn about witchy herbs and potions.

22. Best 2019 debut you read?

I don’t think anything was published in 2019 so I’ll go with The Other Sister by Elle Croft – a blogging friend who’s doing fantastical things in the crime genre. Her third book is out in 2020 and I can’t wait to delve into it.

23. Best worldbuilding/most vivid setting you read this year?

The Gloaming by Kirsty Logan. I’m not hugely into fantasy but there was a lovely mix of reality and strange magical touches in this book – and the image of the cliff edge scattered with stone statues will stay with me for a long time.

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng. Set in a small Ohio town in the 1970s, the intricacies of how a Chinese-American family cope with their daughter’s death had me hooked. There’s something about a ‘mundane’ book setting which, when written well, can be so much more compelling than a huge extravagant adventure narrative. Ng absolutely nails this in both novels of hers which I’ve read (like Little Fires Everywhere which blew my mind!).

24. Book that put a smile on your face/was the most FUN to read?

This question made me realise I don’t often read ‘fun’ books..! Which is a bit of a downer.

That said, I really felt like Everything I Know About Love was a smile-inducing book – as was Goodbye, Vitamin by Rachel Khong. Despite the topic (a novel detailing how dementia affects a family), it’s a short, sweet and beautifully funny read.

25. Book that made you cry or nearly cry in 2019?

Room by Emma Donoghue. I hadn’t seen the film so didn’t know the storyline, and there were multiple moments which both lifted and broke my heart.

26. Hidden gem of the year?

The Fact of a Body by Alexandria Marzano-Lesnevich. I don’t think this book is getting the exposure it deserves!

27. Book that crushed your soul?

Grief is the Thing with Feathers by Max Porter.

28. Most unique book you read in 2019?

The Fact Of A Body. I’m still in awe of her ability to construct such a compelling narrative from little more than police reports and news footage.

29. One book you didn’t get to in 2019 but will be your number 1 priority in 2020?

Trick Mirror by Jia Tolentino. My friend’s copy has been beside my bed for months and I keep meaning to start it!

30. Book you are most anticipating for 2020?

Will Dean’s third instalment of Tuva Moodyson’s Swedish adventures. I even made my first attempt at a Netgalley review copy for Black River but was sadly unsuccessful!

What books did you love in 2019? Anything you can’t wait to read in 2020? I’d love any and all recommendations – and hopefully I’ll get through more than 33 books this year! 

Many thanks to Perpetual Page Turner for these challenge questions!

The post 2019 Reading Challenge: What Books Did I Read Last Year? appeared first on Flora The Explorer.

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[babybeaann]

Gonna do a mini rant abour Kiera Cass’s The Selection series. More specifically, the ending of ‘The One’.

SPOILER AHEAD

I’m not the best at reviews and such, so bear with me. It was a great book, honestly. I loved the characters and the relationship between these characters. So it was a huge dissappointment to me to see the ending to ‘The One’ was far less exciting than the rest of the book. I wanted to see more focus on the Northern and Southern rebels, more on the friendship between the girls and what they will become. I wanted to see America fight for what she believes in, and to show the country what she’s capable of. Everything was steering into that path until the death of her father. The problem wasn’t the fact that Kiera Cass killed America’s dad, the problem was how everything piled up into this one huge mess. America was sent home to mourn for the loss of her father, but the way I saw it, America went home, cries about it for two days, then shrugged it off. For anyone who has read the book, her father was a HUGE HUGE HUGE source of America’s comfort. She sought her fathers help when she needs it most, writing to him and even telling him secrets. We knew how much her father meant to her, so to have a poorly written part of this situation when it should have been a huge moment in America’s life was just extremely unreal. yet when she went back home to the palace she had the news of the engagement and forgot all about her father’s death almost immediately. It didn’t sit well with me, and I was just really disappointed with it. I was hoping a for a more powerful blow, to have America find strength in this situation, but she just merely goes back to the palace and was met with overwhelming joy when she heard about being a part of the top 2. The rest of the story is then compressed into 5 or maybe less chapters. At that point, I was getting concerned. There were still a few things that needed to be covered, but not that many pages left. And I was aware that “The Heir” was about the new princess..so I was curious how Kiera could fit everything in such a small amount of space. Turns out, she didnt. She left so many things unattended, and everything felt so rushed. like she just wanted to get to the wedding. I was honestly devastated with how things turned out. Let’s start with Maxon’s overreaction to seeing Aspen and America together. He has every right to be angry with her, but to tell her that he changed his mind about making her the princess, going out of his way to tell her that “Kriss’s family is here to celebrate, while yours is to take you home”? He was just downright heartless, and basically told her to go. Then later, no explanation as to why and ugh. Completely unncessary . Another was the unexpected loveline between Lucy and Aspen. WHERE DID THAT VME FROM?! There were no hints prior, and we didn't see a connection between them. And to top it all, America didn't even react to it, as if she knew already. And what about Anne? She knew about Anne's feelings towards Aspen, but she simply shrugged it. there was no explanation at all, leaving readers extremely confused. Third, Kriss being a Northern rebel. I had so many questions as to why Kiera added that when there was no reason behind it. And if Kriss is supporting the Nothern rebels' cause, then she would know that they want to eliminate the caste. She should have reacted postively to America and her report on getting rid of the caste, and started to support her from then on. But during America's confrontation about Kriss, it seemed like Kriss didn't care at all. She knew the northern rebels' purpose, and she knew what America believed in, thus proving that America would have been the perfect Queen. But nothing. Kriss just gave America a cold shoulder and left, thats it. Anyways, I would love go into depth with these, but thats not what I’m here to rant about. my main problems were the unnecessary deaths of certain characters. And just like the father, there was no mourning period, nothing. These characters were exetremely important to America’s development, yet just like that they’re life was stripped away.

- Celeste. Yes she was a bitch at the first book, but she slowly came to realize she was hurting everyone. She opened up to America, and their friendship slowly blossomed. She was extremely supportive and rooted for America to win. she found something with America that she never found with anyone, and for her to just die like that was excrutiatingly painful. Why? Because they had so much potential to be friends, to be someone. I wanted to see her that she can be something greater rather than be a model, that she was talented. How was she killed? Bullet to her head. Just like that. there was no expression from Ameica, judt a sudden “red dude pulled trigger on celeste. next thing, everyone screams.” there was no expression from America herself when Celeste was suppose to be an important part of her life.

- King Clarkson and Queen Amberly HOLY FUCKING SHIT I WAS ANGRY. Not only did killing them off ruined America’s chances to show herself, but also shows that they were basically nothing other than King or Queen. The King was opposed to America, but I wanted her to show she can prove him wrong. Yet, before that can happen, boom, dead. The Queen was so sweet, and loving and it showed that she approved of America. I wanted to know why, why was the queen happy with America? She was proud, yet we never got an explanation why because boom. dead.

-Anne. Oh, sweet Anne. When I read she died, I immediately closed the book and refused to read the last few pages. This hurt, a lot. The three maids- Mary, Anne and Lucy - were extremely important in America’s life. They were there throughout the whole Selection, helping her get comfortable in an unknown place. America found a family within palace walls, and throughout the whole series they were there to help her, not just as maids but as friends. Kiera didn’t even show her death. Did you know how the readers found out? During the wedding, when the book descibes America walking down the aisle, looking at Mary who’s her only help left because Anne was gone. Just like that, nothing else. Nada. I feel like Kiera killed her off simply to have that unnecessary relstionship between Aspen and Lucy. that was hard to read, especially.

Readers tend to get attach to these characters, and we want to see how each character thrives with every page. Kiera gave these characters important roles, roles that would improve America, that would help her. But last minute, she stripped the lives of these important characters and left us all to say “what the fuck?” Not only that, there was no development with America’s character. Throughout the whole rebel attack, she stayed at the closet the majority of the time. She didn’t make any changes, Maxon did and told her she was the reason. She didnt fight for what she believed in at the end, so we were stuck clinging on to the last time she made a brave statement which were chapters ago. What Kiera could have done was to expand the death of America’s father, and grasp the importance of America’s purpose. It was revealed that her father was a Northern rebel, but nothing much to it. We could have seen her gain strength from it, especially when he wrote to her that she needs to fight. but after that, she never fought for anything. Only for Maxon, but even then there wasn't a lot going on. There was so much potential there, she could have given America that life-changing wisdom, something to make her realize what she’s fighting for. Still, nothing. Book three could have easily ended after a realization of America’s worth, and book four could have focused more on the rebel wars, more on Southern and Northrern rebels leading into the big attack. Kiera could still have killed those characters, but in a more necessary manner. We needed a proper goodbye, and we needed thoughts and emotions from other characters. We never got them, so it made everyone seem heartless. I loved these characters so much, and it was an adventure reading this series. But after ‘The One’, i don’t find myself picking the next book in the near future..

Sorry, it went from a formal review into a complete rant ahahah

[hogwartselementumrp]

G, congratulations! We are pleased to accept your application for your OC Fay Gunn. We loved the thought and dedication you put into your OC, and your patience, persistence, enthusiasm, and curiosity through the application process.  We can’t wait to see how you bring Fay to life, and see her potential realized. There are may different ways she could develop and plots she could become involved in, so let’s waste no time getting started! Welcome to the RP!

Your request for Oleysa Rulin was accepted as well if you stick to gifs where she looks the age of the character.

Out of Character Information

Name/Alias: G

Preferred Pronoun: She/Her Age: 19 Timezone: GMT +8 Activity Level: Whilst I’m at university two days out of five I should be able to jump on every night or every other night.

How did you find the RP (new members): The ‘Next Gen RP’ tag in Tumblr.

Original Character Information:

Desired Character: Fay Evangeline Gunn

Face Claim: Olesya Rulin, second faceclaim would be Odeya Rush

School Functions (check Quidditch availability’s): Hufflepuff Chaser

Character’s Sexuality: Bisexual, [I hate Professor Neville]

Why do you believe this will be a good character in this specific roleplay?

I understand that you have a character already that has been abused by her family, this being Cora, however I feel that Fay is still quite different to Cora and not just in their family situations. Whilst Fay is being abused by her father it’s done in secret to a point where even the Headmaster and teachers don’t know of her home situation, because Fay is both intelligent enough but traumatized enough to not tell anyone. Because of her secret she would be very easy to manipulate. Also finally as she is a Fawley, which is one of the Sacred 28 that was broken, she could be a very useful pawn if you wanted to create an event where someone decided to get revenge on the people who broke the traditional pureblood bloodlines.

This is the bio layout, we ask you fill it out changing it with the right info!

Fay Gunn is 16 years old, in her Sixth year and is in the house of Hufflepuff.

                                              ❝Things cannot be reversed, learn from the ones we fear the worst and learn from the ones we hate the most

↳ MAGIC

Fay is actually quite talented in her magic when she tries, some claim that this is due to the Fawley blood in her but she claims it’s because of Hogwarts’ wonderful teaching staff. However whenever she returns to Hogwarts from summer holidays her magic does always falter at the beginning of the year, this is partially due to her lack of practice since underage witches and wizards aren’t allowed to perform magic, but also due to the fear that surrounds her own magic.

If she tried to connect and study her affinity she’s easily be able to make the ground beneath everyone’s feet give in but she doesn’t. Again, those that know her claim it’s the Fawley blood, but Fay doesn’t want anything to do with the family that abandoned her and her mother and as a result has never connected with her affinity.

↳ BACKSTORY

Fay was born to Celeste Fawley, a pureblooded Hufflepuff and one of the best Quidditch chasers to come from Hufflepuff, and Michael Gunn, a Muggle. The marriage sparked controversy within the Fawley house and Celeste was told that she wasn’t allowed to have children, that breaking the bloodline was not accepted and any child produced by the pair would cause both Celeste and the child to be ostracized and they would never be a part of the Fawley family.

However Celeste fell pregnant anyway and gave birth to Fay, who other than being short-sighted, was perfect. However she was a halfblood and true to her grandparent’s words, she has never seen a single member of the Fawley family and doesn’t think she ever will, not that she understands why. Fay was incredibly close to both of her parents but bonded more with her mother, learning about her affinity with Earth which would place her in Hufflepuff and even being taught to fly on the front of her mother’s broom, listening to her stories of when she was on the Quidditch team, all under the watchful eye of Michael.

Happiness doesn’t last unfortunately, and when Fay was six her mother was accidentally killed on her way to work. She was wandering through Diagon Alley, stopping to look at the broomsticks to see if there was one suitable for a six year old to learn on when a killing curse struck her, cast by a rogue wizard who had intended to do as much damage as possible. Some said he was an old legion of Lord Voldemort’s, some said he was sent by the Fawley family to dispose of the rogue child who had disobeyed family rules. Others said it was just bad luck.

Whatever the real reason behind Celeste’s death it drove Michael insane with grief. The man packed up his life and his child and settled down in the opposite side of London, the side that Celeste had told him had little to no wizard connections, it was a Muggle world. At first Fay tried to find her relationship with her mother in her father. She begged him to let her fly and asked a lot about Hogwarts, all questions that made Michael more and more afraid of what his daughter was going to become. And then one day it all came to a climax. Fay, being seven and wanting her father’s approval, pulled the depressed man outside and showed him as she made a rock pile she’d created collapse all without touching it. Now that he could see what she was going to become Michael snapped, he pulled his daughter inside and began to beat the child, telling her it was for her own good and that he needed to beat the evil out of her otherwise she’d die like her mother and after many years of it Fay believed him.

Every time anything magical happened she ran to her father prepared for his reaction. She began to forget her mother and the life her mother had prepared her for until the letter arrived. At first it was thrown into the fire by Michael but another one appeared in Fay’s window sill and this time she read it. Suddenly she remembered the school her mother had talked to her about and after digging through her mother’s stuff that had been locked in the attic she found a box that Celeste had created, full of stuff she’d need to know for when Fay when to Hogwarts.

Armed with this knowledge Fay ran away in the middle of the night and boarded the Hogwarts Express, crying quietly on the train ride towards a new life. She manages to avoid her home during Christmas, staying at Hogwarts with the few other students who can’t return home and it’s become a Christmas tradition for her. But every summer she returns home afraid of her life and further afraid that she’s going to believe what her father tells her as he beats her.

↳ PERSONALITY TRAITS

» {+ positives} Loyal, Loving, Intelligent,Resilient

» {- negatives}  Withdrawn, Quiet, Reserved

↳ BASICS

» blood status: Halfblood

» elemental power: Earth

» affinity level: Natural affinity + No study

» date of birth: 31st December 

» wand: Cherry wood with Unicorn hair core

» faceclaim: Olesya Rulin

Fay Gunn IS PLAYED BY YOUR G

The library smelt of fear.

Most people weren’t aware that fear had a smell, but Fay knew that there was. And in the library, crouched behind a shelf, Fay could smell it.

In this situation it smelt like sweat mixed with the various scents of each House’s common room that clung to the student’s clothes after they had hurried from the sanctuary of their bedrooms and common rooms to the library or Great Hall and finally the odd, metallic, firework type smell that was magic.

Fay was completely hidden in the back of the library with the other students who were all whispering in hushed voices whilst an Auror that Fay had never met before wandered between them, making sure everyone was okay before he finally reached Fay who was peering through the books, watching the vacant library.

“Miss… Miss…” Fay glanced over just as the Auror peered at a piece of parchment, trying to figure out who Fay was.

“Gunn. Fay Gunn, Hufflepuff.” She whispered, watching as he nodded, writing down her name before he looked up, meeting her wide eyes hidden behind the glasses.

“Why are we here? What’s happening?” The Auror paused when Fay spoke, the girl’s hands going to hold tightly onto her scarf. It was only when she placed her chin onto her knuckles did she realise that they were shaking.

“I haven’t been told yet but I’m sure your Headmaster will tell you though.”

That meant 'I don’t know’ and it was never reassuring when even the adults didn’t know what was going on. However to appear like she wasn’t worried Fay stood up straighter and removed her hands from her scarf, stuffing them into her pockets, her right hand grasping calmly around her wand.

Around them the scent of fear began to grow thick and heavy, polluting the air as everyone tried to figure out what was happening. As the poison of fear began to travel around the library Fay silently slumped to the ground, her small legs stretched out in front of her whilst her head rest against the wooden library shelves. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander, pondering the situation.

'Something is wrong. Something is very wrong why else would we be in the library and not in our common rooms? Maybe someone has broken into Hogwarts? Maybe there’s a raid. What if someone finds us hiding in here? It’s not exactly inconspicious. So what if they did find you? You’d die anyway, you’re a half-blood. Maybe that’s a good thing.’

Fay’s eyes snapped open as dark, evil thoughts twisted into her mind and she found herself staring into the dark eyes of the Auror above her who had a concerned expression in his eyes. At first she froze, a deer in the headlights before out of the depths of the darkest Fay found a smile and closed her eyes once more.

'No. Hogwarts is safe. Hogwarts will always be safe…’

[pamphletstoinspire]

Saint Alphonsus Liguori - Feast Day: August 2nd - Latin Calendar

Take care of your own soul...before saving the rest of the world: " I Love Jesus Christ and that is why I am on fire with the desire to give Him souls, first of all my own, and then an incalculable number of others." St. Alphonsus Liguori

Saint Alphonsus Liguori

Youth

Alphonsus Liguori was born on September 27, 1696, in a suburb of Naples, Italy. He was the eldest of eight children. His father, Don Giuseppe, entered the navy at the age of fifteen and attained the rank of commanding officer of a flagship of the Royal Navy. He was an authoritarian who ran his family in the same manner. Alphonsus’ mother, Anna Cavalieri, was a gentle soul who was plagued by scruples and given to a highly ascetical piety. Alphonsus inherited both the authoritarianism of his father and the religious scrupulosity of his mother. Belonging economically and socially to the upper class, Alphonsus received an excellent education in the humanities and in the study of civil and Church law. He earned a double doctorate from the University of Naples. Suffering from myopia and chronic asthma prevented Alphonsus from following in his father’s footsteps, so his father steered him into the legal profession. After losing an important court case, Alphonsus walked out of the court in disgust exclaiming, "Ah, world, I know you now!" He also refused more than two paternally planned betrothals because his scruples did not make him a prime candidate for courtship or marriage. Under the guidance of his mother’s spiritual director, the Oratorian Thomas Pagano, who remained Alphonsus’ director for almost thirty years, he joined various Oratorian confraternities which provided spiritual services for its members as well as apostolic work at the Hospital for Incurables and at the local prisons. Alphonsus and his father also attended annual retreats given by the Vincentians and the Jesuits. It was during a Vincentian retreat in 1722 that Liguori experienced a radical conversion. Although still a lawyer at the time, he rejected his secular lifestyle for a more spiritual one, and made a personal vow of celibacy. His father was not at all pleased and the growing tension exploded when Alphonsus announced his decision to become a priest. A compromise decision was reached with his father and he entered the diocesan priesthood.

Diocesan Priest

By August 1726, Alphonsus was on the verge of a psychosomatic breakdown and received the last rites. He slowly recovered and by December 21 he was well enough to be ordained a priest. He lived at home for the next three years and then moved to the Chinese College, an institute founded by Matthew Ripa who was a missionary who had recently been expelled from China. Liguori lived there with a young friend, Gennaro Sarnelli who was simply a boarder at the college. Alphonsus introduced an innovated apostolic technique called the Evening Chapels. This was a program whereby he and a few of his priest friends organized and trained lay catechists. These catechists would then work out of slums, catechizing the poor lazzaroni, the beggars, and street people of Naples. During this period, Liguori was bothered by long bouts of introspection and scrupulosity over his new obligations and burdens as a priest. Obeying doctor’s orders, Alphonsus took a leave of absence from Naples and went to the Amalfi coast. There, despite his work in the slums of Naples, he was shocked by the spiritual abandonment of the poor mountaineers and began catechizing them in the small chapel of Holy Mary of the Mountains. After returning to Naples, he continued to worry about these poor souls and wondered where were the priests who could help them.

Redemptorist Founder

After he returned to Naples, a woman entered his life! Sister Celeste Crostarosa (1696-1755) was a Neapolitan just one month younger than Alphonsus. A former Carmelite now living in a Visitation convent at Scala, she began to claim to receive divine revelations concerning the founding of a new institute for women, whose Rule she was to write under divine inspiration. Gossip about the Scala visionary was rife in Naples and news of her growing conflicts with the convent’s spiritual director, Thomas Falcona, spread. Falcola was Alphonsus’ director as well as Celeste’s, and he asked Liguori to examine the troubled convent. Alphonsus was impressed with Celeste and concluded that her project was indeed the work of God. What he did not know then was that within a year she would claim she had received divinely revealed plans for a new missionary institute of men, of whom Liguori was to be the founder. His reluctance to make sudden decisions held him back and Alphonsus spent almost a year consulting theologians in Naples before he finally accepted his role as founder of the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, which took its first shaky steps on November 9, 1732. Immediately, Liguori found himself caught in the middle of a multifaceted conflict involving Sister Celeste and Falcola (now a bishop), who was revising Celeste’s Rules for the men and the women. An interfering lay theologian also added fire to the emotional conflagration. Liguori survived the growth pains of his new institute; Celeste was not as fortunate. By 1747 the Redemptorists numbered thirty-six members and were in great demand throughout the kingdom. They had a reputation of nearness to the people, a popular and solid preaching style, and a benign pastoral approach in the confessional. Fifteen years later, the Congregation had grown to one hundred fifty members. On Easter Monday, 1733, Celeste was dismissed from the convent at Scala because of changes that Falcola had made to her rule. She finally settled at Foggia, after journeying to several convents and established her own convent according to her original, unadultered Rule. She died in 1755. During his stint as rector major, Liguori joined the struggle against moral rigorism. Two systems of morality were prevalent, the Dominicans supporting the rigorist and the Jesuits defending laxism. His approach avoided the extremes of both theories, and he published his monumental Moral Theology, as well as the eminently pastoral Guide for Confessors. He also published a number of apologies, including The Moderate Use of the Probable Opinion. Alphonsus moral teachings were vindicated by the Holy See during his lifetime. After his death, Rome gave its seal of approval, declaring him a Doctor of the Church and the patron of moralists and confessors. His literary output was not limited to moral theology. His works were directed to every category of Christians and his writings spanned fifty productive years.

Bishop

In March 1762, Clement XIII appointed Alphonsus bishop of St. Agatha of the Goths which was located near Naples. Alphonsus took possession of his diocese in July 1762. Despite his poor health, he threw himself into this new ministry with vigor. His first order of business was to reform the serious ecclesiastical abuses in the diocese, beginning with the renewal of seminary and a spiritual rehabilitation of the clergy and faithful. Second, he attacked the practice of public concubinage, even soliciting the aid of civil authorities. He organized general missions for the diocese that utilized his own Redemptorist missionaries. He also established social welfare programs for the poor and even opened his episcopal palace to the needy. Ill health and complaints against his reforms resulted in his resignation in May 1775, which Pius VI accepted.

Final Years

Alphonsus returned to Pagani "to prepare for death." Here he was to suffer the biggest disappointment of his life. The Congregation’s Rule, which Benedict XIV had approved in 1749, had never received royal approval. In 1779 two Redemptorists, Father Cimino and Calone, were sent to negotiate with the royal court for approval. The eighty-three-year-old Liguori, deaf, practically blind and unable to read or write, put complete trust in his emissaries. Unfortunately, they made extraordinary concessions to the regalist authorities, watering down the original papal Rule to the point of being unrecognizable. The almost senile rector major was duped into signing this governmental Regolamento. The vows of religion were changed to mere oaths, the vow of poverty disappeared altogether, the oath of perseverance was omitted, and the local bishops were given the power over the internal affairs of the Congregation. General Chapters were wiped out of the text completely. This document was delivered to Liguori in March 1780 and when the radical changes were explained to him, he went into severe depression. The Pope was chagrined at the Congregation’s acceptance of the Regolamento, which so blatantly contradicted the papal Rule. Only the Redemptorists within the Papal States continued as canonically approved Redemptorists. Six years later, on August 1, 1787, Liguori died, still technically outside the Congregation he had founded. The process for his canonization began a few months after his death. He was beatified in 1816 and in 1839 he was canonized. In March 1871, Pius IX declared him a Doctor of the Church, and in 1950, Pius XII declared Alphonsus the official patron of moralists and of confessors.