#ill iron out the details later<3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[nonpareil]

> @norgodly — ‘so many men risk so little. they spend their lives avoiding danger. and then they die. i’d risk everything to get what i want.’

‘ah! well— they do say there's no reward without risk.’ but what risk would that be? tyrion wonders, absentmindedly scouting the young wolf's visage among the myriad of features alike and finds him grinning, face framed by a flaming crown that paralleled the sprigs of his ambition. once it caught alight, it could seldom be doused — the residuum of fire could not be so easily rescinded, the black mark of his zeal would be forever known. besides, robb's newfound royalty as the king in the north was soon to be contended, his youthful inexperience would bring with it blunders and before he knew it, his head would be stuck on a pike in king's landing among the traitors and the thieves. tyrion was quite fond of the young king, finds him more amiable than the other knights he'd met along the king's road. there was just something so utterly compelling about the starks in a way he'd not yet encountered, a love that defied tradition — allowed them to just be. in the lannister household it was all tradition, trussed up in customs that stifled distinction, rearing their women for marriage and their men for the council, never fostering a single tenderness between them. tyrion wonders if the pang in his stomach is a pinch of envy for the justice that his love commands — the sheer devotion of it — or a gnawing concern for what's to come. the good people of the north did not belong here, preyed upon for their weaknesses. [they deserved peace in the place they called home, they deserved to live without disturbance, to soar without falling.] in that moment, he thinks of brandon and throws back another cup of wine in the feeling of complicity, before stretching forward for a refill.

‘and how do you plan on achieving these lofty goals? don't tell me our young wolf is a deferential, little pup. doing what his woman asks for a mere scratch behind the ears.’ tyrion pauses before he suddenly realises his rather brusque manner of speaking on this evening's poison, sloshing the contents of his cup in the rapid interception of her response, an apology of sorts. ‘oh, no judgement here. i strongly believe you are smarter than any man here tenfold.’ the serpent twined around the rose-stem, an underestimation would surely put one in an early grave.

[loonybun]

ok screw it oc introduction be upon ye

hi guys this is Rosé!!! I do have an in depth thing regarding his relationship with Adonis (another character of mine) and his whole transformation on my other blog so if you’d like to read that in more detail it’s right here.

CONTAINS: Cults/religion/sacrilege (evangelical nature), religious trauma and guilt, shunning, old timey homophobia and religion-based intersexphobia, historic stuff and some fun facts about the 1920’s, verbal abuse, manipulation, coercion, power dynamic (god and mortal), a really shitty partner and a shitter relationship, body horror, chronic illness, attempted suicide (multiple times multiple methods including overdose), rot and decay of the body, and love potions but for all the wrong reasons.

Rosé, formerly known as Roe Labat, was born in 1898 and raised in an evangelical cult. Ironically enough this has actually nothing to do with the wings and whatnot. That’ll come later. Being both intersex and albino, he was never truly accepted by the people around him. Some were kinder than others, sure, but it was all out of pity. In their eyes, he was already damned to an eternity in hell for the simple sin of existing.

He was a very docile and quiet child, rarely ever stepping out of line regardless of circumstances. He lived inside of the church, as his parents didn’t want responsibility of him. From an early age Roe understood that he was not something worthy of love, as even God had forsaken him. He was cared for out of obligation rather than actual genuine love, having religion almost constantly drilled into him.

When he was 18 (1916), he ran away from the cult’s village. He figured that he’d never make anything out of himself within it, and never be able to prove himself. Roe was also sick of being a burden. He had never been able to make friends due to the constant ostracism, and even though the people he was around changed to be a lot more open-minded, this remained a constant throughout his life. He started living in New Orleans and often frequented various parades and bars. Also he learned that he was queer and that messed him up for a bit. Despite being forsaken, he still tried his best to be a good follower given his circumstances, but the more he learned about the world around him, the looser his faith became.

Roe took an eventual interest in the “pansy performers” (drag queens in the 1920’s), though felt a lot of guilt and shame regarding considering the concept as a career. The more he thought about it though, he realized he didn’t have much else to lose.

He was a natural performer, able to say and do just the right things in just the right ways to provoke a positive reaction from the audience. Considering the more niche community at the time, he never really drew in big crowds, but what he had was enough for him to live off of in a nice 3 room apartment. He was able to afford relatively nice clothes for his performances when they weren’t provided, and quickly became skilled at makeup and wig styling. He also began dying his hair (yes hair dye was a thing in the 1920’s) and using mascara and heavier makeup in order to conceal his albinism, just because it drew some unwanted attention here and there. While he rarely encountered any trouble with the law, he had a few close calls given what he was doing was pretty illegal at the time. homophobia am i right…

Around when he was 24-25, he met “Don”, who claimed to be a cab driver, yet was almost always dressed to the nines in stylish and at times anachronistic clothing. They hit it off very quickly, relating over the strange feeling of being isolated from their peers. They started going out together soon after. It was Roe’s first real relationship, especially with another man, so to say he was a bit nervous would be putting it lightly. Regardless, Don was always very kind to him and patient with him. He was a bit suspicious of Don though since he was always very dodgy about his home life and really any personal details, however he just assumed they came from similar situations. Roe did theorize where his money was coming from and thought him to either be a bootlegger or a member of the mafia, though he never brought it up because in full honesty he didn’t care too much. He was already head over heels and a little illegal activity wouldn’t stop that.

The last thing he was expecting was Don— or rather, Adonis, to claim he was actually a god. And really really wasn’t supposed to be talking with Roe but just couldn’t help himself. Roe was shocked to say the least, and a little incredulous, but Adonis was very quickly able to prove he was telling the truth. Roe, despite having his entire worldview and years of his life shattered by this one man, decided to try and make things work between them. And it did, for a while. The gaps in Adonis’s visits made more sense now, since he couldn’t be away for too long without the other gods getting suspicious. And it was nice to not have secrets. Roe was able to open up to him about his childhood as well, and Adonis provided sympathy for him.

But good things can’t last forever. As time passed, their relationship grew progressively worse. Adonis got upset over increasingly small things, and while Roe understood his perspective and tried to accommodate him, it didn’t mean he was exactly pleased about it. Adonis began to grow concerned over the prospect of something happening to Roe. After all, he was mortal. Frail. Weak.

His solution to this? Well, get rid of the mortality. Roe wasn’t exactly on board with the idea, considering he quite enjoyed being able to perform and live in the city, and accepting Adonis’s offer would make that nearly impossible. Adonis was persistent though, bringing up the idea at any time despite how many times Roe tried to gently shoot it down. Roe eventually grew tired of this cycle and hesitantly accepted. Adonis claimed that this would make things easier— They could see each other more often, they wouldn’t have to hide, the chances of his whole relationship with a mortal being found out by the one person who could end his existence from breaking the rules moved close to 0, no real drawbacks! for him.

this is where the stuff in the post i mentioned earlier comes in. if you’ve already read it, yeah it gets bad. if you haven’t, here’s the brief explanation.

given the fact that mortal bodies aren’t exactly capable of handling literal godly essence, Roe’s body began to decay and break down. At first, it mimicked some sort of disease. His skin became dry and flaky, and his body felt oddly hot and uncomfortable. Painful sensations overtook his body and became almost constant. By the time things started melting and his organs began to fail, he already knew it was too late to reverse any of this. Any hope of continuing his career or life normally vanished completely. Adonis, however, was very happy about this new development! It had worked! yippee! so so much fun. Of course, he obviously remained as sympathetic towards Roe as possible, regardless of any underlying excitement.

Roe became agitated and frustrated because of the amount of pain he was in and how much he had lost. He wasn’t able to leave the house anymore. He began to snap and lash out at Adonis, picking a fight or making a snide remark whenever possible. Adonis hadn’t exactly seen this coming, but he still kept trying to de-escalate things, often in the form of telling Roe that he was acting unreasonable or hysterical (smart move!). Despite all of this, they stayed in their relationship. Roe was too terrified to be alone, knowing that whatever was happening to him would completely destroy any semblance of respect people had for him, and Don because he wanted to see it through.

Their fights got worse until Adonis finally snapped back, calling Roe an “ungrateful cunt” for not appreciating the love and support he’d oh so generously provided. He made it clear to Roe that nobody would recognize him as human anymore. Nobody would love or care about him. He’d be a freak to anyone other than him, so he’d better stop complaining or he’d lose him too.

This got through to Roe, and he stopped shouting. In fact, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. It hurt too much to speak, to move, to breathe. Every step was agony. His body had contorted beyond recognition. Was it even worth it to continue like this? Would this be what the rest of his existence was like? Did he really want to live if it meant being in constant, unbearable agony?

Even if the answer was no, he hardly had much of a choice. He tried more humane methods at first. Overdose, drowning in the bathtub, smashing his head against the wall— Nothing worked. He was still alive. He was still alive. Why was he still alive? Was he alive? Was this what it meant to live?

He got more desperate. Stabbing at his stomach, burning his flesh, only it would only leave little splotchy marks that quickly faded. Or so he thought.

The area around the wound he’d made on his stomach began to rot, eating away at any organs or skin or muscle in its path. Eventually, his entire torso from the bottom of his spine to the top of his pelvis was gone save for his spine and a few bits of spare viscera.

When Adonis returned, he wasn’t happy to see what Roe had tried to do. He became incredibly upset with him for trying to leave the relationship in the only way he possibly could. Still, as long as Roe promised to stop, he’d forgive him. Roe obliged.

The fact that Roe wouldn’t talk to him became a source of frustration for Adonis. It felt intentional, spiteful. And it hurt. Every single question was met with a dulled response, as if he barely heard him. As if he hardly cared. It became a bit like spending time with a rock when he stopped responding all together. No matter what Adonis tried, he couldn’t seem to get Roe to react. It was at that point he realized that both physically and mentally, the person he’d fallen for was gone. Far, far deep down, he knew it was his fault. But still, there was hardly any point in staying. Roe would probably rot there forever, and what good would it do to watch over that?

And so he left. Roe realized that it was permanent maybe only a week or so later. Initially, he blamed himself. If he had put in a little more effort, he could have tried to respond, but the pain was too much to bear… The pain— The pain that had begun to fade now. Maybe a month after Adonis left, Roe began to regain his mobility, his strength, and while he was still in pain, it was no longer unbearable. It seemed more like a dull nagging now. The fog that the loneliness and agony had inflicted upon him began to lift as well, and all of that guilt quickly shifted and simmered into pure hatred.

Hatred that the new immortal would begin to inflict upon the world and the ones surrounding it. That would continue to build for years with only the set goal of revenge against the man that had wronged him. And while it cooled over time into a tepid resentment, it never truly faded. He was able to continue with life, though hardly on the same plane, confining himself to a dimension that only certain desperate souls could access. Souls desperate to save their relationships, souls desperate to have their so-called beloveds fall for them, wretched, vile souls. And he’d help them regardless. After all, what’s a worse offense to a love god than bastardizing the craft? Who cares if a few… Hundred lives get ruined? It’s fun to watch. It’s not his turn to suffer anymore. And he won’t be made a victim again.

ANYWAYS more extra info i DONT think i put on the other post but dont rlly wanna check:

Adonis is the god of Lust, Beauty, and Vanity

Roe took on his stage name Rosé after his transformation to distance himself from his past

Rosé has been collecting magic. For what purpose? Let’s not worry about that.

Rosé has the abilities to siphon magic and the life force from people. He doesn’t do this often unless something catches his eye that he wants to harness. It does mean he’s incredibly powerful though.

Rosé’s main abilities he gained directly from Adonis’s essence or whatever include being able to alter the emotions of others (he can force people to think certain ways and even do certain things), pocket dimension stuff, and object conjuring.

Rosé has a lot of side hobbies but his favorite is cooking. He really likes savory dishes, but he also likes sweet things.

Rosé is able to travel between different dimensions and such, and only exists as a “god” in (this) one.

Rosé has built up a reputation among a lot of magical creatures. None of them are quite sure what he is or how he seems to defy certain laws of existence but most see him as a relatively trustworthy supplier for love potions.

Every so often Rosé gets bored and chooses to single people out to mess with. Maybe he should stop doing that.

Rosé is VERY prone to breakdowns, and while he’s mostly able to stay professional, if someone’s around him for a prolonged period of time and something causes him to spiral he regresses into an incredibly different and much more desperate person.

Rosé (name aside) considers himself a liquor connoisseur (RED FLA) and does collect rare alcohols. he does have a tendency to drink heavily but considering his body can’t really process food or drinks it sort of just magically disappears. he is a talkative and very mopey drunk though. like will start full on venting about his life story.

He’s friends with Aisling!!! Friends is a very strong word!!!! Maybe the wrong word!!! But they they hang out sometimes and Aisling seems to enjoy his company a lot even if he can’t really understand why he keeps coming back if not out of fear or trying to use him so he keeps his distance. Aisling is honestly just worried about him and has sort of been able to slowly break down that Rosé maybe isn’t as absolutely terrifying as he first thought and is indeed just very. very lonely and maybe even a bit pathetic

[dranna]

The Fallen Star

AO3 / Commissions / Links /

Warnings: sad with happy ending, hurt/comfort, fallen Angel Crowley

Summary: How did Crowley’s fall went? What did he feel and thought? Snakes can’t see stars, so what emotions it provoked when he couldn’t see his beloved creation?

a/n: I’m writing this while I’m ill with fever, so I’m sorry for mistakes :’)

A little explanation: - I used “She” pronoun for the universe. When you see She underlined, it’s to distinguish the universe from God. This whole fic was inspired by a quote from Romeo and Juliet at first. I’m really ill, therefor I didn’t have energy to draw, but I’ll might add an illustration later on.

Hope you enjoy 🫶

“ Ha, banishment! Be merciful, say 'death;

For exile hath more terror in his look, 

Much more than death. Do not say 'banishment' . “

Romeo and Juliet / Act 3 - Scene 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t think I’ll ever forget,

The fear and pain in my chest,

When I first looked up to My beautiful sky,

From Below ,

And I couldn’t properly see, 

Because of these Snake eyes given to me,

All My Stars were Up there, 

Above my head, 

But I couldn’t make out their twinkling smile, 

Nor feel their harmonies from the inside. 

The dark sky was a huge canvas, 

Which one’s observing without their glasses.

Every detail was there, 

Just concealed behind a foggy curtain. 

From amongst the clouds of confusion, 

I’ve reached out my hand, 

In an attempt, 

To calm my screaming heart, 

And sing a fake lullaby to my concerns, 

But to my utter fright, 

Instead of light, 

I felt the Below’s darkness in my palm. 

My hand was the same, yet different, 

There were decorated with black, long nails,

And looking around my side, 

I saw abandoned, black feathers in the dark,

“What?! How—“

And then, 

Everything flooded my mind, 

With the force of thousand Nebulas. 

“ I wouldn’t worry tho. 

What kind of trouble can I get into, 

By only asking a few? “

— I asked my new companion, 

Called Aziraphale,

While we looked at My Creation, the Universe. 

She was so beautiful, 

As we looked, 

Bathing in Her new light of love, 

And laughing colorful. 

If I only knew, 

What will happen, 

Because I had ideas of my own! 

The curly haired angel left me,

While I stayed,

Debating what he told me. 

Shutting down all of it,

6000 years will be nothing! 

She needs more time to bloom, 

And grow,

Many cherry blossoms would result,

In the infinity planned by me. 

6000 years! 

What’s the point? 

Creating something, 

Let it be small or vast,

If You not let it run?

What’s the point indeed ?! 

Why Create something new,

With the intention of Destruction,

From the very Beginning? 

Suddenly, there was a change,

However the stars were blinking the same, 

But there was a new feeling in the ‘air’, 

Which, it looked like,

Only I felt. 

I felt a sharp push in my chest,

And started falling into gloominess. 

The longer I descended below,

The more torment flushed over me. 

My light wings before, 

Were now heavy iron balls. 

Thus I sank deeper and deeper into the blankness, 

Suffocating under invisible burdens. 

My shining orbits seemed to get miniature, 

And fade, 

As if a cloud shielded them from me. 

I don’t know how much time had passed,

But I woke up in darkness. 

All I felt,

Were harsh Iceness and Pain,

Something new was storming thru my veins, 

And instead of light and warm,

It was dark and cool. 

Black feathers? 

What are they doing here? 

I’ve never seen an angel with—

A realisation hit me that moment,

As I looked over my shoulder and saw Them. 

My wings! 

Which were snowy white and golden,

Light as a gentle breeze and holy,

Were now black and cheerless, 

Instead of light, 

They were heavy as the orbits in the sky. 

Oh how much mourning and agony they caused at first!

Being the cause, 

Of a decade lasting soreness in sight. 

Nononono! 

This can’t be happening! 

I did nothing! 

“Please Almighty, 

Look down your servant and see,

What a misunderstanding happened to me!” 

But Answers and the Voice never came,

She abandoned and punished me,

For something tiny. 

This is all that it took in the Old Times, 

Ask, and then see Her light from Behind. 

I became a slave to the Dark,

Destined to never see my beloved Stars. 

Why made me fall? 

Just so suffer?  

Be merciful and say Death, 

And don’t leave me in Banishment. 

A few years went by, 

While I tried to accept my fate,

Existing Downside. 

Then came the Task, 

That changed everything for Up, Middle and Down.

I became the creature that crawls on the ground,

The tempting Serpent of Eden, 

Charged to lure and disturb, 

Change lives of all.

And there was I,

Seeing myself for the first time,

In the diamond water of a lake in the innocent night. 

My hair became ruby red, 

There was a symbol of a snake on the head,

My wings were intimidating and lonely, 

And my Eyes were glowing darkly. 

Snake like pupils and golden iris,

Which prevents me to see My shining orbits. 

I became a Demon, 

Doomed to lose,

Everything I did and will adore—

“Crowley dear! 

The chocolate is still yummy and cosy!”

— The Serpent was called back to reality,

By his beloved silly,

Him and Aziraphale were a pair,

Living quietly in their store.

The man with the sunglasses started a diary,

Due to the nagging of his darling.

“Comin’ !” 

Maybe I don’t lose everything I adore,

He’s always been here and cared,

Whether I’m fine or sad. 

They spent the evening lazily,

Drinking in each other merrily. 

And for the first time in decades,

Crowley felt Safe. 

tagging: @giosnape

let me know if you would like to be tagged<3

[twistingtreeancestry]

The Tragedies of Levi Oscar Smith and His Wives

TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING This work discusses severe injury, burns, different types of death, manners of death, symptoms of death, causes of death, and possibly other unpleasant topics that may be triggering or upsetting. Please carefully consider whether you're in a good space and/or mature enough to read further. TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING

Who is Levi O. Smith?

Levi is one of my spouse's great-grandfathers. He was born in Indian Territory (McAlester, Pittsburg County), Oklahoma, USA in 1898. At 20 years old, he married his first wife, Opal Alsus Jackson, 17 years old, on 1 Jun 1918 in Holtville, Imperial County, California, USA. They had their first child, a son named Eugene Ellis Smith, in October of 1919. Eugene was followed by the birth of Louis M. Smith in 1921, then Raymond Leroy Smith in February of 1924. Sometime around the beginning of 1925, Opal became pregnant with Vivian Louise Smith.

Opal Alsus Jackson

Opal was born in 1901 in Oklahoma, USA. In 1910, she and her birth family were listed on two census records—one under General Population and one under Indian Population. On the General Population record, she, her mother, and her siblings were listed as white while her father was listed as Indian. On the Indian Population record, her father was listed as Indian, her mother was listed as white, and she and her siblings were listed as half-Indian, half-white.

According to events detailed by The Bulletin (Pomona, Los Angeles County, California, USA) and Riverside Daily Press (Riverside, Riverside County, California, USA) newspapers, respectively, indicate that the tragedy of Opal Alsus Jackson began on 17 Oct 1925.

While starting a fire at her mother's home in Corona, Riverside County, California, USA, Opal sent her 3 or 4-year-old son Louis to fetch her kerosene. Instead, Louis mistakenly brought back a jar of gasoline. This resulted in an explosion that set the house, and her clothes, aflame.

Despite her condition, the pregnant and burning Opal managed to get all three of her children out of the house before she "fell into the flames". Eugene and Raymond's conditions were never noted and Levi wasn't mentioned at all, but devastatingly, Louis succumbed to his injuries a few hours later. "At almost the hour of his death", Opal gave birth to Vivian, who seemed healthy and suffered no ill effects from the traumatic situation that resulted in her birth. Louis was laid to rest four days later.

Opal was admitted to Cothe Rona Hospital (which I cannot locate) where her chances of recovery were described optimistically due to her having "such remarkable recuperative power". It was stated that 80% (or, alternatively, 4/5ths) of the surface of her body was severely burned. She stayed in the gray zone between life and death for just over a month before "unfavorable symptoms developed". She succumbed to her injuries on the morning of 21 Nov 1925 at just 24 years old. She was laid to rest with Louis the next day, and they now share a gravemarker.

Her baby daughter, Vivian, lived to be 89 years old with a husband, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. According to her obituary, she served as a civilian staff car driver at an Ontario, CA military base during WWII, and she worked for 40+ years "for General Electric, both the Iron Plant downtown Ontario and the Aircraft at the Ontario Airport". It appears she lived a full, healthy, and happy life. She was preceded in death by Eugene, Raymond, and her half-brother, Jay, as well as her husband and her son.

Raymonde Victorine Louise Aubry

Raymonde was born in 1912 in France, Europe. She immigrated in late 1986 from Paris, Île-de-France, France, Europe at 13 years old aboard the S.S. Niagara with her parents and little sister. Their destination was Ontario, CA, but they made port in Galveston, Galveston County, Texas, USA on 4 Oct 1926, and must have navigated northwest to California afterward.

Next, she appears as "Ramon" in a 1930 census in Ontario, CA as the 17-year-old new bride of 31-year-old Levi Smith, with Eugene, Raymond, and Vivian in their household and listed their children. It was recorded that she could read and write, spoke English, and also spoke French at home before she immigrated. Over the following years, she and Levi birthed their children: a daughter, Lela Faye Smith, and two sons, Jay Loren and Jimmy Dale Smith.

I've gathered from articles in The Los Angeles Times, The Pomona Progress Bulletin, and The San Bernardino County Sun that Raymonde's tragedy started when Levi picked her up from Sunday church on the evening of 30 Jul 1939.

He told Deputy Coroner W. J. Weller that shortly after the service, Raymonde allegedly began to accuse Levi of adultery while she was attending church. He insisted that after he dropped her off at 7:15 p.m. he visited a beer parlor until it was time to retrieve her at 9:15 p.m.

Later that night, Raymonde joined Levi in the bedroom and he heard her whisper "goodbye" to her 3-year-old son (and youngest child), Jimmy. He then asked her where she was going, to which she replied, "I've done it. I've taken poison."

Levi immediately took her to the hospital where she was declared dead on arrival at just 26 years old. It was later reported by Coroner R. E. Williams that she'd ingested strychnine—the poison, which Deputy Coroner Weller alleged she'd taken in three previous death attempts, was referred to by one article as a "fatal potion". Levi claimed the poison was used to exterminate gophers and that Raymonde knew where it was kept. He also admitted that she'd threatened to ingest the poison when they were arguing, but he hadn't believed her until she told Jimmy goodbye.

Williams stated an inquest into her death would likely be unnecessary, and her death was ruled as death by suicide via poisoning. She was laid to rest five days later.

What happened to Levi?

After being a farmer since 1918, Levi became an irrigator at a tree nursery by 1940 before becoming a truck driver of farm produce by 1941.

On 21 Feb 1941, 42-year-old Levi was fatally injured in an accident while falling from a truck. His death certificate states he died of shock due to a brain aneurysm created by a brain hemorrhage three miles east of Perryville, Maricopa County, Arizona, USA. A newspaper article named Buckeye, Maricopa County, Arizona, USA as his place of death, which is approximately 3 miles east of Perryville.

Levi was buried in the same cemetery as his second wife, Raymonde. While they didn't end up in the same section, their sections butt up against each other.

34 years later, his 40-year-old son Jay, a truck driver for Midwest Growers Association, would die in a trucking accident "25 miles east of Lordsburg" in Grant County, New Mexico, USA. I believe he died on I-70 in Wilna, Grant County, New Mexico, USA.

That's all, for now!

If you made it this far, thanks for sticking with me and learning about some of my spouse's departed family. Make sure to follow me so you don't miss my future posts about genealogy and family history, or random historical finds I think are interesting!

[mcuamerica]

What's with the Ring?

Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem!Reader

Requested by anon: "A request where tony stark had a college sweetheart for about three years... then many years later after ironman 3, pepper broke up with him and tony got invited to his college reunion. when he reunited with reader..."

Warnings: mentions of late husband, mentions of terminal illness (not for reader or Tony), mentions of past cheating. Age-appropriate alcohol consumption.    

A/N: PSA all Tony requests after this (and a couple more in my inbox already) will be declined. I don’t really like writing for him, but I made that decision after this request came in, so this will be one of my last ones for him. If I find any good Tony Stark content, I’ll be sure to recommend it!

Disclaimer: All my works are FICTION. Nothing pertaining to the characters and/or actors are to be taken as fact. I do not own characters (unless I create an OC, in which I will be sure to mention), actors, tropes, or titles. I do not agree to my works being reposted or published on any sites, even if credit is given. Enjoy!

You walked into the MIT arena where you had gone to plenty of basketball and volleyball games as a young adult. You loved being back at this school. You frequented the football games when you could, but it wasn’t easy since you had a full time teaching job in New York. 

You also felt that it was bittersweet. Last time you were here, you were with your husband. He bought front row tickets to a basketball game and you two shared an amazing time together. The next day, however, you found out he was terminally ill. You hadn’t been back since. It had been a few years since he passed but you couldn’t bear coming back to the arena. That was until you got the invitation to your college reunion. 

It would be good to see your friends. Sure, you talk to them every now and then, but with MIT graduates, the time to meet up is little to none. You took a subdued career, choosing to teach high school students in New York City. Still, you teach at a very prestigious high school and you are very happy to have your job but it was nothing compared to most of your graduating class. Specifically, nothing compared to Tony Stark. 

At the time of graduation, you could not stand him. Not only did he break your heart, but he cheated on you with some cheerleader for the school. You shouldn’t have been surprised: he was always a lady’s man. It was no excuse for cheating when you were in an exclusive relationship.

You were over it now. You had gotten married and suffered another heartbreaking loss, one so much more gut wrenching than being cheated on. It actually brought you some comfort when you turned around from your conversation and saw him - Tony - talking to another alumni. 

You excused yourself from the conversation and walked over to him. “Tony,” you spoke up to get his attention. 

As soon as his eyes landed on you, all the feelings came back. He hadn’t seen you for years. Not since you yelled and screamed at him two weeks before graduation for cheating on you. You were in different colleges, so he didn’t even get to see you at graduation. 

“(Y/N)... Wow… You look great.” He said, completely forgetting about the other man standing next to him. “What’s with the ring?” He asked, noticing the chain around your neck that held a gold ring that resembled a wedding band. 

You glanced down, a small smile coming to your face. “It’s my late husband’s. I always keep it on me,” you said as you looked back up at him. “How have you been?” You asked, not wanting to go into detail about your past marriage.

“Me? I’m surprised you don’t know.” 

There it is. The ego-booster laced with sarcasm. “Okay, Mr. Iron Man. I meant other than saving the world with your big suit of armor.” You quipped, raising your eyebrows. 

“I’ve been great, thanks for asking.” He asked and you blinked at him, waiting for him to ask about you. “Can I get you something to drink?” He asked instead, motioning with his cup towards the makeshift bar that was set up. 

“Sure, why not.” You said and gave a small smile before walking over to the bar with him. 

You spent the rest of the night chatting with him. On multiple occasions you had to correct people who came up to you and said they were surprised you two were together. Both of you denied it every time. Tony even told you about how he just got out of a few year relationship with Pepper Potts, the now CEO of Stark Industries. You thought you heard something about it, but you hadn’t paid much attention to Tony when he was in the news. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. It’s always hard to recover from a break up. But I’m sensing that you had no issue…” You said and he smiled sheepishly. 

“Actually, it was a little hard. But I’m better now. And really happy that I ran into you. We should meet again, sometime. In New York.” He said and you narrowed your eyes. 

“I’m not sure how much I trust you, Stark.” You asked and crossed your arms, shifting your weight slightly. 

“I promise, I won’t make any moves.” He said, giving you a sly smirk. 

“Who said I didn’t want that?”

Main Masterlist

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

Jon Snow Month -Kindness (traits 1/2)

When I first read the books I considered Jon one of its kindest characters. I couldn’t fathom why he rarely made fans’ lists of kind characters because that trait of his is so prominent. After all these years I still mantain the same opinion that Jon Snow is one of the kindest souls in Westeros and therefore for the Character Trait’s day I decided to write a meta about this often overlooked feature of his. I’ll only share examples from the first part of AGOT in order to keep this post at a resonable length. One day I’ll probably make continuation posts to cover the rest of books.

Here are some examples of Jon’s kindness.

1. From the first chapters of AGOT we are shown that Jon is a kind soul. Jon Snow is introduced at Bran’s first POV chapter and the first major act he commits is removing himself from having a direwolf so all his siblings will actually get one. Both his father and his younger brother understand that he made an act of kindness:

"You have five trueborn children," Jon said. "Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord."

Bran saw his father's face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow,[..,]

2. We get another great example of Jon’s kind soul from Arya’s first POV chapter. Actually, Arya’s chapters are filled with examples of Jon’s kindness, as he was the only child in Winterfell who constantly gave love and support to the bullied even younger girl. A moment of kindness that particularly stands out is this one:

They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her.

Just picture this scene: an even younger Arya (reminder at the start of AGOT she’s only nine) is afraid that her sharing looks with Jon means she’s a also a bastard and instead of sharing her fear with an adult she goes to Jon for comfort; Jon,  who isn’t that much older than her (they are only four years apart). This indicates that even at this young age, Jon has been there for her when she has a trouble or fear and thus why she naturally seeks him in time of despair. Jon isn’t the only older sibling she has but he has been the kindest to her.

Even more important is Jon’s reaction to Arya seeking his comfort. Despite the fact that bastardy is a sore spot for him and that he’s probably hurt that his little sister associated their shared looks with it, he’s the one who reassures her, who gives her solace.In a great act of kindness,he prioritizes his little sister’s feelings over his.

3. It’s quite ironic that one of Jon’s kindest moments comes from his interaction with his step mother. Catelyn has been a constant haunting figure in Jon’s early life and the main reason he doesn’t feel fully welcomed at his home in Winterfell. He’s that fightened of her that he hesistates to visit his younger brother Bran, who is in coma, before he leaves Winterfell . When he finds the courage to say goodbye to his brother before they part he’s not welcomed by Catelyn who is annoyed by his mere present to her ill son’s room.  She tells him he’s unwelcomed there and later also threatens him to call the guards if he doesn’t leave the room. The reason I’m including details here is because of what happens next. Catelyn shares with him that she feels guilty for her son’s condition (it’s really not her fault, not by any stretch) and Jon offers her words of comfort:

"I wanted him to stay here with me," Lady Stark said softly. Jon watched her, wary. She was not even looking at him. She was talking to him, but for a part of her, it was as though he were not even in the room. "I prayed for it," she said dully. "He was my special boy. I went to the sept and prayed seven times to the seven faces of god that Ned would change his mind and leave him here with me. Sometimes prayers are answered." Jon did not know what to say. "It wasn't your fault," he managed after an awkward silence.

Jon witnessing this prideful and strong woman have a break down in front of him can’t help but feel sympathy for her and thus awkwardly expressing it. He’s not unmoved by the tears of the mother mourning for her son and offers her some kind words. He finds it in his heart to comfort the same woman who has been the most frightening figure in his life so far. The woman who normally even refuses to acknowledge his presence and who this specific day already tried to stop him from saying goodbye to his little brother,If this isn’t an act of kindness then I don’t know what it is.

4. This example is related to the previous one I listed as it happens a couple of minutes later. After Jon exits Bran’s room - not before Catelyn harshly telling him that it should be him dying instead of Bran- he meets Robb. Jon is exhausted and emotionally drained by his interaction with Catelyn and Robb realizes something is amiss and knowing his mother, he correctly guesses she’s the one to blame:

Robb knew something was wrong. "My mother . . . " "She was . . . very kind," Jon told him. Robb looked relieved. "Good." He smiled.

Here we have another example of Jon not only being kind about thoughful of others but also prioritizing his siblings’ feelings over his. Instead of sharing what troubles him he opts to lie to Robb that Catelyn was kind to him during his visit to Bran’s room because he doesn’t want to burden his brother. 

Oh, the irony of Jon telling Robb that Catelyn was very kind when the only kind person in that room was himself. 

[jjheejz]

This is an ongoing update about the case from start to development. List of all related posts can be found on this blog's pinned post (link provided at bottom of each post as well).

Updates: Minor details

Originally posted on 17 August 2021

Debunking the Hand

Details everything so it's lengthy. TLDR, skip to starting paragraph first word that's in blue. Still, reading everything gives a broader picture.

Background

In 2019, ZZH went on an acting competition show called: Stand By Me《演员请就位》(link)The competition involves having actors to play certain roles in a short movie (about 30mins) directed by the panel judges cum esteemed Directors.

ZZH was chosen by Director Zhao Wei and he starred in the short movie: Brother《哥》(link) The genre (as provided in link) is tagged: Sibling, relationship, mental illness, brothers

1. [Left image] Look at the timeline the variety show was aired, and then the date the short movie was released, 7 December 2019, is the aired date of the Movie.

2. [Right image] The other main role of the movie: Wilson Wang/王森

The Original Gesture’s Meaning 

(Direct links to watch the movie at end of post)

1. Hand raise meaning

Timestamp (from top to bottom, left to right) - 2:11, 01:37

2. “我等你呢” (I waited/wait for you)

Timestamp - 24:31

Original post of the image

The image originally used to refer the pose gesture was this, the part boxed in orange is Zhe Jiang Memorial Hall of Revolutionary Martyrs:

The original post where the image was from on weibo, both left and right are same pictures, different focus points:

Left image focus: Date of post, caption of post, comment on post, and each post picture given a number

Right image focus: The collage pattern

[Left image] Firstly, the date the movie aired was on 7 December 2019, ZZH posted the image 5 days later, on 15 December 2019.

[Left image] Secondly, the caption says "I waited/wait for you". (There is technically no past tense/present tense in Chinese) For international fans, you may compare the movie screenshot above, with the caption boxed in red, and the Chinese words ZZH posted + bottom part of the image: Wilson (王森), the actor who played the older brother in this movie. "我等你呢"

[Left image] Thirdly, the hand raise itself, is in reference to the movie, his older brother. Referencing from above, his older brother (in the movie), raises almost a straight vertical 180 - pic 9, while ZZH's circulated image is lower. Because he was, and could be metaphorically reaching for his brother's hand (see picture above).

[Left image - reference below] I just realised this myself. Lastly, Pattern A: look at the spread of the image in the post. There's a distinct pattern: 3 selfies in the middle (pics 4-6), pics 1 & 3 with his buddy + corresponding inverted triangle pic 8 (no duplicated background or pattern), pics 2, 7, 9 are half body shots, of which 2 out 3 was where the Memorial Hall was.

(duplicated image below for easier reference)

[Right image] Pattern B: The whole image itself looks like ZZH is sitting on the stairs, under a shelter. The center image is like the close up version of the 8th picture.

5-6 different locations, with the right lineage, to create a post with a bigger picture, no coincidence works this way.

Remember that ZZH is a very detailed actor, there is a reason why Ah-Xu was so well liked. That's why from this, it can further amplify he's very detail-oriented, see below for his line of thought in curation:

In that case, if it's planned, why the location then? (Please open up and zoom in to both right and left to see clearly)

Look at pic 2 again, the railings is horizontal, a perfect sense of link for 1 and 3, through his hand. Look at pic 7, there's also the railings, but he stands in the middle, creating a leeway for a 90°, look at pic 9, the angle is taken from a left to right perspective = he needs railings because it is flexible to take straight lines, with a person.

Being on weibo long, and having followed his account over the past 5 months, his curation of photo pattern is prevalent, it usually always has a message (which is why LLD have sweets each time they posted sth, both GJ and ZZH's spreads can create meanings).

What he needed was just the railings, but it happened to coincide with the Memorial Hall, so this could just be an unlucky coincidence that the photo was taken with resemblance of the Nazi hand, and with the Memorial Hall in the background.

Remember, also his Brother reference.

If there are still some, not convinced, allowing room for doubt of purpose, then let the Immoral Media/ Internet Water Army(link) prove to you:

Immoral Media/Internet Water Army's circulation

What the Immoral Media was spreading (just a collage of 6 top few posts that came out from the search results):

Note that none of it had the full spread like the above, no proper context at all.

This was what was in circulation, it was straight up just that one picture compared side by side to the Nazi gesture (ignore the Chinese). See how they conveniently narrowed the scope of issue and cause a fuss?

Conlusion

We have the Internet Water Army/immoral Media (link above) to thank for, for increasing the debunk percentage.

Bonus (not really, just the movie link)

(A warning/PG18: The opening of the scene is on a bed, ZZH is a part of it. But nevertheless it is a very heart-warming short movie, if you need to cry more - it can actually ironically help alleviate, give this a try, it also shows the spectrum of character ZZH can do and his acting skills)

For those who understands Chinese, Youku still has it here.

For those who do not understand Chinese, I’ve english subbed it here. (Please inform me if you have problems accessing it).

*Cultural language note: In English, Sis/Bro is a reference to both older and younger (depending the person), In Chinese, Ge Ge (Guh-Guh) is older brother, Di Di (younger brother), Jie Jie (older sister), Mei Mei (younger sister). 

This addressing can be used for non-blood related but close people eg. an older but same position colleague, buddies. Sometimes surname is added, eg. surname of Zhou, “Zhou-Ge” (Older brother Zhou)

Usual usage is usually a single word eg. “Ge!” (older brother), “Di!” (younger brother), when saying in double eg. “Ge Ge”, it usually has a cute annotation

Related posts 🛏️:

[wooshofficial]

Okay so the answer is yes apparently. Spoilers for worm below even though it’s nearly 10 years old.

I couldn’t help but notice that the story of Taylor becoming Khepri has some serious parallels to Noelle becoming Echidna. Even with naming conventions- both are mythological powerhouses, Echidna as the mother of monsters and Khepri as the beetle that pulls the sun barge out of the 12th gate of the underworld, aka making the sun rise. They both signal change, continuation and a new day. Echidna is what causes the PRT to dismantle, and Khepri is what causes the death of Scion, and subsequently, a new era of parahuman culture.

(Also, slightly unrelated, but I find it ironic that Taylor is called Khepri, the sunrise beetle, when she is the one that kills Scion, who is literally a beacon of light, uses light as a weapon, and is gold. She takes down something akin to the Sun, a man who was a staple for society for so long, and that’s the role of Apophis, the Chaos Serpent, the one destined to end the world in the mythology that the title comes from, via eating the sun god Ra. But then again, this was the end of the world, and Scion had caused mass chaos, so maybe he was Apophis. Khepri does literally chill on Ra’s chest while the spirits that guide the sun barge kick serpent ass though, so it is fitting. Still weird tho.) (sorry for going on a spiel there mythology is a spin for me :3)

ANYWAYS. Echidna paralleling Khepri. Or vice versa. Idk it’s 4:30am [editing Woosh: three months later I’m finishing this, so if it falls apart from here it’s because my memory of reading worm has faded over time]

Both girls, through their prospective arcs (even though Taylor’s is longer), have a single defining goal that drives their actions: control. Noelle has never had control over her body or her situation in life, as she had some sort of potentially terminal illness before The Simurgh attack, and then the half-dose turning her monstrous in both body and mind. The one thing she has control over is her team and the gaming club, but those are taken from her by The Simurgh. In her desperation for control, she turns to something she cannot fully trust, because in her mind (that we learn is slowly degrading, her internal control slipping the longer she lives in this half-body) it is the only solution that has even a modicum of success. It hurts her, what she has to do for that goal of complete control, but she does it. Until that solution is ripped out from under her, and she finally vows to get that control by any means necessary, including killing thousands.

Heyyyyyyyy doesn’t that sound familiar?

Let’s take a look at Taylor’s arc, starting from after she kills Coil (which is the catalyst for Noelle snapping. Big Bad Makes Her Helpless). Taylor, trying desperately to pick up where Coil left off and making that at least somewhat ethical, dives deeper into her need for control to the point where her friends get very, very worried for her. Doubled with the fact that her need for control extends and collides into her need to protect who she loves, and she does some really stupid shit to make sure the rest of the Undersiders are safe. Like going to prison. And joining the Wards, whom she doesn’t have much trust in at all. And when all that fails, when everything she’s done to make sure things are perfect and exactly as she wanted it doesn’t stop the things it was supposed to, she snaps. Vows to regain control and stability by any means necessary, even if it means destroying her autonomy and the autonomy of thousands.

I think originally when writing this post I had some sort of thesis statement in my head to finish it off but I don’t anymore. They’re parallels almost by exact detail and I think it’s very cool. Time is a flat fucking circle, baby.

Hello worm parahumans tumblr fandom do you want to hear my absolute nonsense rambling about things in this story people have probably already figured out

[currently-kraken]

Theon Greyjoy’s Costumes by Michele Clapton

I saw a post that asked about a piece of Theon’s clothing and I wanted to see if I could help with this. I have Michele Clapton’s Game of Thrones: The Costumes book so I thought I’d share the info and pics (some from the internet, others from the pics of the book my low res phone can provide lol) for Theon (+ Yara) for whoever needs it :)

1. Theon (Alfie Allen) wears an ornate doublet intended to indicate that he is rather conceited.

At the beginning of the story, Theon (Alfie Allen) is full of himself—a weak, unpleasant boy who bears a grudge against Ned Stark for making him his ward and taking him away from the Iron Islands. That sense of having been wronged by the Starks compels him to make terrible choices. He leads an assault on Winterfell in the name of the Greyjoys but later loses control of the Stark homestead to the sadistic Ramsay Bolton (Iwan Rheon). Theon pays an unimaginable price for his failings.

Initially, Theon's costume has elements of the classic Stark look but in the Greyjoys’ colors—his loyalties divided from the start. In early episodes, he wears an overly ornate doublet that hints at his pretentiousness and sense of entitlement, but his cloak is thin and his collar is a simple one made from rabbit fur. He wears a Stark shirt underneath his doublet.

2. Theon’s (Allen) cloak is thin and made from lesser materials, indicating that, as a ward, he isn’t as well cared for as the members of the family who are related by blood.

3. Theon (Allen) may look like a Stark, but his loyalties are divided—his cloak features the Greyjoy kraken sigil.

Theon is taken prisoner by Ramsay later in the storyline and subjected to horrific tortures that fundamentally change his character. To humiliate Theon, Ramsay renames him Reek and dresses him in the same manner as the rest of the servants in Winterfell. He wears a long, apron-shaped tunic made from layers of ragged linen. His finery—and his nobility—are stripped away entirely. But during Ramsay’s wedding to Sansa, Theon is dressed in an outfit that gives a slight nod to his former status. Theon wears somber tones of gray and black with a silhouette that’s very traditionally Stark. He’s also wearing brocade, which is a callback to Catelyn’s Stark’s influence, but Theon’s fabric doublet is shorter than in should be. The fact that it’s slightly ill-fitting makes him appear more servile, the poor tailoring indicating his low status.

4. Theon’s “Reek” costume is made from ragged layers of black linen.

5. As “Reek”, actor Alfie Allen wears a simple collar around his neck to emphasize his subservient status.

6. For Sansa’s wedding to Ramsay, Theon (Alfie Allen) wears a finely tailored brown doublet; his shirt sleeves and his cloak are both made from brocade, an homage to Catelyn Stark. 

7. The costume includes a brocade cloak with cross-body straps and an embossed brown leather belt.

After Theon escapes from Ramsay, he begins to reclaim his identity as a son of the Iron Islands. Most notably, he adopts a much more traditional Greyjoy costume that includes a doublet prominently featuring the house sigil, the kraken, a suitably intimidating sea monster. As with all the Greyjoys, we slashed a very graphic kraken image directly into Theon’s armor—I wanted it to look like something they might do themselves using a blade. Still, the Stark influence can be found in the straps near the neck of his armor. The colors, too, denote his allegiance: Instead of rocky gray, he’s in Northern brown and black. Theon is willing to atone for his past mistakes and sacrifice everything to regain his honor—which he does in the end, giving his life to defend Bran from the Night King.

8. TOP Theon (Alfie Allen) embraces his Iron Islands heritage with a costume that includes all the hallmarks of the Greyjoy look.

9. BOTTOM The Greyjoy kraken sigil adorns his belt.

10. LEFT This costume features Theon’s traditional Greyjoy cloak, which is essentially made from a rectangle of waxed cloth.

11. TOP RIGHT The kraken sigil is prominently featured on Theon’s doublet, the symbol appearing as though it has been slashed into the leather.

12. BOTTOM RIGHT The kraken appears once more on Theon’s scabbard.

BONUS: YARA

13. Gemma Whelan as Yara Greyjoy.

Theon’s sister, Yara (Gemma Whelan), is a natural-born warrior who embraces every aspect of the Greyjoy way of life—she is determined to follow in her father’s footsteps and rule over the Iron Islands from the Salt Throne on Pyke. She grew up entirely apart from Theon—they are essentially strangers when they meet as adults—but nevertheless the love she feels for him is profound. Even when Theon seems completely lost to her, Yara goes to great lengths to save him, acting out of honor, duty and compassion.

Whenever she appears on-screen, Yara is dressed in some version of the primary costume that I designed for her. As a true Greyjoy, her wardrobe would have changed little, so her clothing always remained consistent. The waxed fabric of her doublet is the color of stone and features the standard Iron Islands lacing. She wears lived-in leather trousers that were broken down and aged to give the impression that she rarely takes them off. She has very high boots that stop above her knee. I wanted her to have swagger, and giving her these high leather boots changed her gait in a way that says a great deal about the character. She walks with an attitude and is cool and confident. The boots were also suitably practical for an experienced captain who often finds herself at the center of armed conflict.

Yara’s costumes are quite androgynous. She dresses in a similar fashion to the men of Pyke, which felt like a logical choice for someone who commands a fleet of men. Ironborn sailors wouldn’t follow a woman who appeared overtly feminine, even one as intelligent and fierce as Yara. She would always have to project strength because weakness is anathema to her people. Her strength is really unassailable—you can see it in her actions and in her costumes as well.   

14. Yara’s long-sleeved doublet and trousers are made from waxed linen to appear waterproof.

15. OPPOSITE TOP LEFT Yara’s doublet is intended to be the same color as the Iron Islands themselves and is closed with waxed laces that appear waterproof.

16. OPPOSITE CENTER LEFT Shoulder detail of Yara’s doublet.

17. OPPOSITE BOTTOM LEFT Close-up of the laces used to tie the doublet, which was studded with metal for protection.

18. OPPOSITE RIGHT Yara’s (Whelan) signature look includes striking boots that go over her knees.

Tagging the people on the original post @sing-for-theongreyjoy​ @selkiewife​ @attaining-fic​ @robbeonsa​  

Hope this helps, guys!! 😁🦑

[blueflyingturtleontheway]

So since @lieutenant-amuel has already spilled my headcanon regarding Blanca's family, I thought I might as well share it all.

Buckle up buckaroos because I've created a crowd of OCs that have little to do with canon and am now going to tell you all about it.

Who is who + ages at the moment of Coronation Day

Ignacio and Juana Fuentes (late 70s)

They own a farm (I haven't decided what animals they have, but they definitely grow potatoes), around a day away from Avalor City on horseback. They're very loving and caring people, even if a little rough on the edges and old fashioned. Since they live in a small village where Shuriki's guards didn't come often, they weren't the most law abiding people and still sung and played instruments in their home (and taught Gabe, much to Blanca's dismay.) Every year for Navidad and EverRealm's equivalent of Easter they make family gatherings, and their children and grandchildren often visit them for summer vacations or to help on the farm when they need.

Pablo (54)

Blanca's brother, older by 5 years. He was supposed to take over the farm, but instead went on to study in Avalor City. That... also didn't work out and he left Avalor for many years. Even now he hasn't set roots anywhere, but often works as a cartographer or a guide through all the places he has visited. He never started a family, so he's just a kinda crazy uncle with fun stories to all his nephews and nieces.

Enrique (46)

He's three years younger than Blanca and the one who will take over the farm. He's a very warm and enthusiastic person, he's very hearty, even if sometimes crude. Despite all of this, he is a very familial man and when he's angry, he's very stern and doesn't forgive easily, so you don't really want to get on his bad side. He's married to Alejandra (they've been friends since childhood and ended up falling in love :3) and they have two kids.

Alejandra (43)

Juan (20)

She's also a very enthusiastic and familial person, even though her own family isn't big. Her father was in the guard (fun fact - Gabe learned that only after he decided to join in himself) but died when she was little, so she and her older sister were taken in by their father's sister, who lived in the same village as the Fuentes family. Her sister married a nobleman and now lives on the other side of Avalor, and their aunt moved to live with her, but they still are very close, keep regular correspondence and meet whenever they can. She's very close with Blanca and adores all of her nephews and nieces.

He's two years younger than Gabe and used to compete with him a lot when they were younger, especially since Juan was better at academics, but Gabe was better at physical activities and generally with people. He caused Gabe an accident when they were kids and ironically that situation help them gradually become friends. The year of Elena's coronation he started working part time as a maths teacher in Avalor City's primary school while continuing his studies. He regularly meets up with Gabe for a beer or a dinner at his parents'.

Alicia (14)

Juan's sister younger by six years (8 years younger than Gabe) she's not very close with Gabe because of their age gap, but she loves to play olaball with Roberto. She's not very happy that her brother moved to Avalor City, but knows that she can't really change his mind. For now she wants to work at the farm and later take over, but a lot can change as she's still a child.

Jorge (45)

Elena (22)

Another of Blanca's siblings, he's a doctor and stayed in their hometown. In a cruel irony his wife died from an incurable illness a few years ago. It was quite hard on him but I won't go into details here. He's the most calm out of all his siblings, melancholic even. He started to learn to play on the trumpet last year. He had a big fall out with Pablo after his wife's death, and now they don't really talk to each other. He has three daughters, twins Gabe's age and another seven years younger.

Bárbara

There isn't much to say, but she was a very calm and usually serious person, but actually loved to laugh, sing and dance. She came from a big family and even after her death they still keep in touch and often visit one anothers, especially since they live in a neighbouring town. She was very close with her husband's family and everyone really felt her death. Even though she was usually a quiet person, she was very patriotic and always stood up to the unjust laws made by Shuriki, that's always the reason she named their daughters...

She lives in a big city near the border of Paraíso and is engaged, she plans to marry at the end of the year. She's an ambitious woman but despite her name, a little closed off. She works as an accountant in a trade guild and that's how she met her fiance.

Isabela (22)

She helps their father at his clinic and in their family is considered a kind of animal specialist. She never got any higher studies, but currently is thinking about starting studying veterinary. She's very close with their father and younger sister and Alicia.

Lucía (15)

She's currently graduating and plans to study history in Avalor City, because of that she wants to convince Blanca and Roberto to let her stay with them while she studies (they'll probably agree.) She's very similar to her father in terms of character, but more cunning and shares the passion for history with Gabe.

María (43)

She teaches Latin (since as far as I'm concerned it's actually used in EverRealm and if not then the equivalent of that) in a university in Paraíso. She's very imaginative and curious, and a good storyteller. This year she's on long vacation for health reasons and is trying to move her job to Avaloran Academy, so she could be closer to her family.

Fernando Böse (41)

He's a sailor, captain of the ship León Blanco. He used to serve in the military in Lachia, but over twelve years ago changed his specialisation to be able to be home more (and also risk his life a little less) and now escorts trading ships. He's a very smart and open man, given that he doesn't have a family of his own anymore (he had a brother who died when Fernando was in his 20s) he's very attached to his wife's family, always bringing interesting stuff and stories from his travels. He loves the sea but loves his wife even more, though luckily he didn't have to choose yet.

Pedro (16)

He's very responsible and caring, especially towards his brother. He's quite close with Ana, since their pretty close in age and in terms of character. He took the love to languages after his mother and love for sailing after his father.

Francisco "Paco" (15)

He's loud, enthusiastic and energetic, always having new ideas and acting on them right away. He admires his brother and that's why he started calling himself Paco, because it sounds more similar to Pedro than his full name. He also loves sailing and loves to listen to stories especially the ones about travels of his dad or tíos.

Both he and Pedro this year went on their first cruise with their father, lasting six months and ending right before Christmas. The whole family is waiting to see if they'll still want to be sailors after that.

And that's basically all! Thank you for reading all this if you managed and if you'd like to learn more about any of them, or their relationships with each other or Gabe, ask away!

[unpopularwiththepopulace]

A retrospective on some of Broadway’s most important female costume designers across the last century

How much is our memory or perception of a production influenced by the manner in which we visually comprehend the characters for their physical appearance and attire? A lot.

How much attention in memory is often dedicated to celebrating the costume designers who create the visual forms we remember? Comparatively, not much.

Delving through the New York Public Library archives of late, I found I was able to zoom into pictures of productions like Sunday in the Park with George at a magnitude greater than before.

In doing so, I noticed myself marvelling at finer details on the costumes that simply aren’t visible from grainy 1985 proshots, or other lower resolution images.

And marvel I did.

At first, I began to set out to address the contributions made to the show by designer Patricia Zipprodt in collaboration with Ann Hould-Ward. Quickly I fell into a (rather substantial) tangent rabbit hole – concerning over a century’s worth of interconnected designers who are responsible for hundreds of some of the most memorable Broadway shows between them.

It is impossible to look at the work of just one or two of these women without also discussing the others that came before them or were inspired by them.

Journey with me then if you will on this retrospective endeavour to explore the work and legacy that some of these designers have created, and some of the contexts in which they did so.

A set of podcasts featuring Ann Hould-Ward, including Behind the Curtain (Ep. 229) and Broadway Nation (Eps. 17 and 18), invaluably introduce some of the information discussed here and, most crucially, provide a first-hand, verbal link back to this history. The latter show sets out the case for a “succession of dynamic women that goes back to the earliest days of the Broadway musical and continues right up to today”, all of whom “were mentored by one or more of the great [designers] before them, [all] became Tony award-winning [stars] in their own right, and [all] have passed on the [craft] to the next generation.”

A chronological, linear descendancy links these designers across multiple centuries, starting in 1880 with Aline Bernstein, then moving to Irene Sharaff, then to Patricia Zipprodt, then to the present day with Ann Hould-Ward. Other designers branch from or interact with this linear chronology in different ways, such as Florence Klotz and Ann Roth – who, like Patricia Zipprodt, were also mentored by Aline Bernstein – or Theoni V. Aldredge, who stands apart from this connected tree, but whose career closely parallels the chronology of its central portion. There were, of course, many other designers and women also working within this era that provided even further momentous contributions to the world of costume design, but in this piece, the focus will remain primarily on these seven figures.

As the main creditor of the designs for Sunday in the Park with George, let’s start with Patricia (Pat) Zipprodt.

Born in 1925, Pat studied at the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) in New York after winning a scholarship there in 1951. Through teaching herself “all of costume history by studying materials at the New York Public Library”, she passed her entrance exam to the United Scenic Artists Union in 1954. This itself was a feat only possible through Aline Bernstein’s pioneering steps in demanding and starting female acceptance into this same union for the first time just under 30 years previously.

Pat made her individual costume design debut a year after assisting Irene Sharaff on Happy Hunting in 1956 – Ethel Merman’s last new Broadway credit. Of the more than 50 shows she subsequently designed, some of Pat’s most significant musicals include: She Loves Me (1963) Fiddler on the Roof (1964) Cabaret (1966) Zorba (1968) 1776 (1969) Pippin (1972) Mack & Mabel (1974) Chicago (1975) Alice in Wonderland (1983) Sunday in the Park with George (1984) Sweet Charity (1986) Into the Woods (1987) - preliminary work

Other notable play credits included: The Little Foxes (1967) The Glass Menagerie (1983) Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1990)

Yes. One person designed all of those shows. Many of the most beloved pieces in modern musical theatre history. Somewhat baffling.

Her work notably earned her 11 Tony nominations, 3 wins, an induction into the Theatre Hall of Fame in 1992, and the Irene Sharaff award for lifetime achievement in costume design in 1997.

By 1983, Pat was one of the most well-respected designers of her era. When the offer for Sunday in the Park with George came in, she was less than enamoured by being confined to the ill-suited basements at Playwright’s Horizons all day, designing full costumes for a story not even yet in existence. From-the-ground-up workshops are common now, but at the time, Sunday was one of the first of its kind.

Rather than flatly declining, she asked Ann Hould-Ward, previously her assistant and intern who had now been designing for 2-3 years on her own, if she was interested in collaborating. She was. The two divided the designing between them, like Pat creating Bernadette’s opening pink and white dress, and Ann her final red and purple dress.

Which indeed leads to the question of the infamous creation worn in the opening number. No attemptedly comprehensive look at the costumes in Sunday would be complete without addressing it or its masterful mechanics.

To enable Bernadette to spring miraculously and seemingly effortlessly from her outer confines, Ann and Pat enlisted the help of a man with a “Theatre Magics” company in Ohio. Dubbed ‘The Iron Dress’, the gasp-inducing motion required a wire frame embedded into the material, entities called ‘moonwalker legs and feet’, and two garage door openers coming up through the stage to lever the two halves apart. The mechanism – highly impressive in its periods of functionality – wasn’t without its flaws. Ann recalls “there were nights during previews where [Bernadette] couldn’t get out of the dress”. Or worse, a night where “the dress closed up completely. And it wouldn’t open up again!”. As Bernadette finished her number, there was nothing else within her power she could do, so she simply “grabbed it under her arm and carried it off stage.”

What visuals. Evidently, the course of costume design is not always plain sailing.

This sentiment is exhibited in the fact design work is a physical materialisation of other creators’ visions, thus foregrounding the tricky need for collaboration and compromise. This is at once a skill, very much part of the job description, and not always pleasant – in navigating any divides between one’s own ideas and those of other people.

Sunday in the Park with George was no exception in requiring such a moment of compromise and revision. With the show already on Broadway in previews, Stephen Sondheim decreed the little girl Louise’s dress “needs to be white” – not the “turquoisey blue” undertone Pat and Ann had already created it with. White, to better spotlight the painting’s centre.

Requests for alterations are easier to comprehend when they are done with equanimity and have justification. Sondheim said he would pay for the new dress himself, and in Seurat’s original painting, the little girl is very brightly the focal centre point of the piece. On this occasion, all agreed that Sondheim was “absolutely right”. A new dress was made.

Other artistic differences aren’t always as amicable.

In Pat Zipprodt’s first show, Happy Hunting with Ethel Merman in 1956, some creatives and directors were getting in vociferous, progress-stopping arguments over a dress and a scene in which Ethel was to jump over a fence. Then magically, the dress went missing. Pat was working at the time as an assistant to the senior Irene Sharaff, and Pat herself was the one to find the dress the next morning. It was in the basement. Covered in black and wholly unwearable. Sharaff had spray painted the dress black in protest against the “bickering”. Indeed, Sharaff disappeared, not to be seen again until the show arrived on Broadway.

Those that worked with her soon found that Sharaff was one to be listened to and respected – as Hal Prince did during West Side Story. After the show opened in 1957, Hal replaced her 40 pairs of meticulously created and individually dyed, battered, and re-dyed jeans with off-the-rack copies. His reasoning was this: “How foolish to be wasting money when we can make a promotional arrangement with Levi Strauss to supply blue jeans free for program credit?” A year later, he looked at their show, and wondered “What’s happened?”

What had happened was that the production had lost its spark and noticeable portions of its beauty, vibrancy, and subtle individuality. Sharaff’s unique creations quickly returned, and Hal had learned his lesson. By the time Sharaff’s mentee, Pat, had “designed the most expensive rags for the company to wear” with this same idiosyncratic dyeing process for Fiddler on the Roof in 1964, Hal recognised the value of this particularity and the disproportionately large payoff even ostensibly simple garments can bring.

Irene Sharaff is remembered as one of the greatest designers ever. Born in 1910, she was mentored by Aline Bernstein, first assisting her on 1928’s original staging of Hedda Gabler.

Throughout her 56 year career, she designed more than 52 Broadway musicals. Some particularly memorable entities include: The Boys from Syracuse (1938) Lady in the Dark (1943) Candide (1956) Happy Hunting (1956) Sweet Charity (1966) The King and I (1951, 1956) West Side Story (1957, 1961) Funny Girl (1964, 1968)

For the last three productions, she would reprise her work on Broadway in the subsequent and indelibly enduring film adaptations of the same shows. 

Her work in the theatre earned her 6 Tony nominations and 1 win, though her work in Hollywood was perhaps even more well rewarded – earning 5 Academy Awards from a total of 15 nominations.

Some of Sharaff’s additional film credits included: Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) Ziegfeld Follies (1946) An American in Paris (1951) Call Me Madam (1953) A Star is Born (1954) – partial Guys and Dolls (1955) Cleopatra (1963) Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966) Hello Dolly! (1969) Mommie Dearest (1981)

It’s a remarkable list. But it is too more than just a list.

Famously, Judy’s red scarlet ballgown in Meet Me in St. Louis was termed the “most sophisticated costume [she’d] yet worn on the screen.”

It has been written that Sharaff’s “last film was probably the only bad one on which she worked,” – the infamous pillar of camp culture, Mommie Dearest, in 1981 – “but its perpetrators knew that to recreate the Hollywood of Joan Crawford, it required an artist who understood the particular glamour of the Crawford era.” And at the time, there were very few – if any – who could fill that requirement better than Irene Sharaff. 

The 1963 production of Cleopatra is perhaps an even more infamous endeavour. Notoriously fraught with problems, the film was at that point the most expensive ever made. It nearly bankrupted 20th Century Fox, in light of varying issues like long production delays, a revolving carousel of directors, the beginning of the infamous Burton/Taylor affair and resulting media storm, and bouts of Elizabeth’s ill-health that “nearly killed her”. In that turbulent environment, Sharaff is highlighted as one of the figures instrumental in the film’s eventual completion – “adjusting Elizabeth Taylor’s costumes when her weight fluctuated overnight” so the world finally received the visual spectacle they were all ardently anticipating.

But even beyond that, Sharaff’s work had impacts more significantly and extensively than the immediate products of the shows or films themselves. Within a few years of her “vibrant Thai silk costumes for ‘The King and I’ in 1951, …silk became Thailand’s best-known export.” Her designs changed the entire economic landscape of the country. 

It’s little wonder that in that era, Sharaff was known as “one of the most sought-after and highest-paid people in her profession.” With discussions and favourable comparisions alongside none other than Old Hollywood’s most beloved designer, Edith Head, Irene deserves her place in history to be recognised as one of the foremost significant pillars of the design world.

In this respected position, Irene Sharaff was able to pass on her knowledge by mentoring others too as well as Patricia Zipprodt, like Ann Roth and Florence Klotz, who have in turn gone on to further have their own highly commendable successes in the industry.

Florence “Flossie” Klotz, born in 1920, is the only Broadway costume designer to have won six Tony awards. She did so, all of them for musicals, and all of them directed by Hal Prince, in a marker of their long and meaningful collaboration.

Indeed, Flossie’s life partner was Ruth Mitchell – Hal’s long-time assistant, and herself legendary stage manager, associate director and producer of over 43 shows. Together, Flossie and Ruth were dubbed a “power couple of Broadway”.

Flossie’s shows with Hal included: Follies (1971) A Little Night Music (1973) Pacific Overtures (1976) Grind (1985) Kiss of the Spiderwoman (1993) Show Boat (1995)

And additional shows amongst her credits extend to: Side by Side by Sondheim (1977) On the Twentieth Century (1978) The Little Foxes (1981) A Doll’s Life (1982) Jerry’s Girls (1985)

Earlier in her career, she would first find her footing as an assistant designer on some of the Golden Age’s most pivotal shows like: The King and I (1951) Pal Joey (1952) Silk Stockings (1955) Carousel (1957) The Sound of Music (1959)

The original production of Follies marked the first time Florence was seriously recognised for her work. Before this point, she was not yet anywhere close to being considered as having broken into the ranks of Broadway’s “reigning designers” of that era. Follies changed matters, providing both an indication of the talent of her work to come, and creating history in being commended for producing some of the “best costumes to be seen on Broadway” in recent memory – as Clive Barnes wrote in The New York Times. Fuller discussion is merited given that the costumes of Follies are always one of the show’s central points of debate and have been crucial to the reception of the original production as well as every single revival that has followed in the 50 years since.

In this instance, Ted Chapin would record from his book ‘Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical ‘Follies’ how “the costumes were so opulent, they put the show over-budget.” Moreover, that “talking about the show years later, [Florence] said the costumes could not be made today. ‘Not only would they cost upwards of $2 million, but we used fabrics from England that aren’t even made anymore.’” Broadway then does indeed no longer look like Broadway now.

This “surreal tableau” Flossie created, including “three-foot-high ostrich feather headdresses, Marie Antoinette wigs adorned with musical instruments and birdcages, and gowns embellished with translucent butterfly wings”, remains arguably one of the most impressive and jaw-dropping spectacles to have ever graced a Broadway stage even to this day.

As for Ann Roth, born in 1931, she is still to this day making her own history – recently becoming the joint eldest nominee at 89 for an Oscar (her 5th), for her work on 2020′s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. Now as of April 26th, Ann has just made history even further by becoming the oldest woman to win a competitive Academy Award ever. She has an impressive array of Hollywood credits to her name in addition to a roster of Broadway design projects, which have earned her 12 Tony nominations.

Some of her work in the theatre includes: The Women (1973) The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (1978) They're Playing Our Song (1979) Singin' in the Rain (1985) Present Laughter (1996) Hedda Gabler (2009) A Raisin in the Sun (2014) Shuffle Along (2016) The Prom (2018)

Making her way over to Hollywood in the ‘70s, she has left an indelible and lasting visual impact on the arts through films like: Klute (1971) The Goodbye Girl (1977) Hair (1979) 9 to 5 (1980) Silkwood (1983) Postcards from the Edge (1990) The Birdcage (1996) The Hours (2002) Mamma Mia! (2008) Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (2020)

It’s clear from this branching 'tree' to see how far the impact of just one woman passing on her time and knowledge to others who are starting out can spread.

This art of acting as a conduit for valuable insights was something Irene Sharaff had learned from her own mentor and predecessor, Aline Bernstein. Aline was viewed as “the first woman in the [US] to gain prominence in the male-dominated field of set and costume design,” and was too a strong proponent of passing on the unique knowledge she had acquired as a pioneer and forerunner in the field. 

Born in 1880, Bernstein is recognised as “one of the first theatrical designers in New York to make sets and costumes entirely from scratch and craft moving sets” while Broadway was still very much in its infancy of taking shape as the world we know today. This she did for more than one hundred shows over decades of her work in the theatre. These shows included the spectacular Grand Street Follies (1924-27), and original premier productions of plays like some of the following: Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler (1928) J.M Barrie’s Peter Pan (1928) Grand Hotel (1930) Phillip Barry’s Animal Kingdom (1932) Chekov’s The Seagull (1937) Both Lillian Hellman’s The Children’s Hour (1934) and The Little Foxes (1939)

Beyond direct design work, Bernstein founded what was to become the Neighbourhood Playhouse (the notable New York acting school) and was influential in the “Little Theatre movement that sprung up across America in 1910”. These were the “forerunners of the non-profit theatres we see today” and she continued to work in this realm even after moving into commercial theatre.

Bernstein also established the Museum of Costume Art, which later became the Costume Institute of the Met Museum of Art, where she served as president from 1944 to her death in 1955. This is what the Met Gala raises money for every year. So for long as you have the world’s biggest celebrities parading up and down red carpets in high fashion pieces, you have Aline Bernstein to remember – as none of that would be happening without her.

During the last fifteen years of her life, Bernstein taught and served as a consultant in theatre programs at academic institutions including Yale, Harvard, and Vassar – keen to connect the community and facilitate an exchange of wisdom and information to new descendants and the next generation.

Many designers came somewhere out of this linear descendancy. One notable exception, with no American mentor, was Theoni V. Aldredge. Born in 1922 and trained in Greece, Theoni emigrated to the US, met her husband, Tom Aldredge – himself of Into the Woods and theatre notoriety – and went on to design more than 100 Broadway shows. For her work, she earned 3 Tony wins from 11 nominations from projects such as: Anyone Can Whistle (1964) A Chorus Line (1975) Annie (1977) Barnum (1980) 42nd Street (1980) Woman of the Year (1981) Dreamgirls (1981) La Cage aux Folles (1983) The Rink (1984)

One of the main features that typify Theoni’s design style and could be attributed to a certain unique and distinctive “European flair” is her strong use of vibrant colour. This is a sentiment instantly apparent in looking longitudinally at some of her work.

In Ann Hould-Ward’s words, Theoni speaks to the “great generosity” of this profession. Theoni went out of her way to call Ann apropos of nothing early in the morning at some unknown hotel just after Ann won her first Tony for Beauty and the Beast in 1994, purring “Dahhling, I told you so!” These were women that had their disagreements, yes, but ultimately shared their knowledge and congratulated each other for their successes.

Similar anecdotal goodwill can be found in Pat Zipprodt’s call to Ann on the night of the 1987 Tony’s – where Ann was nominated for Into the Woods – with Pat singing “Have wonderful night! You’re not gonna win! …[laugh] but I love you anyway!”

This well-wishing phone call is all the more poignant considering Pat was originally involved with doing the costumes for Into the Woods, in reprise of their previous collaboration on Sunday in the Park with George.

If, for example, Theoni instinctively is remembered for bright colour, one of the features that Pat is first remembered for is her dedicated approach to research for her designs. Indeed, the New York Public Library archives document how the remaining physical evidence of this research she conducted is “particularly thorough” in the section on Into the Woods. Before the show finally hit Broadway in 1987 with Ann Hould-Ward’s designs, records show Pat had done extensive investigation herself into materials, ideas and prospective creations all through 1986.

Both Ann and Pat worked on the show out of town in try-outs at the Old Globe theatre in San Diego. But when it came to negotiating Broadway contracts, the situation became “tricky” and later “untenable” with Pat and the producers. Ann was “allowed to step in and design” the show alone instead.

The lack of harboured resentment on Patricia’s behalf speaks to her character and the pair’s relationship, such that Ann still considered her “my dear and beloved friend” for over 25 years, and was “at [Pat’s] bed when she died”.

Though they parted ways ultimately for Into the Woods, you can very much feel a continuation between their work on Sunday in the Park with George a few years previously, especially considering how tactile the designs appear in both shows. This tactility is something the shows’ book writer and director, James Lapine, was specific about. Lapine would remark in his initial ideas and inspirations that he wanted a graphic quality to the costumes on this occasion, like “so many sketches of the fairy-tales do”.

Ann fed that sentiment through her final creations, with a wide variety of materials and textures being used across the whole show – like “ribbons with ribbons seamed through them”, “all sorts of applique”, “frothy organzas and rembriodered organzas”. A specific example documents how Joanna Gleason’s shawl as the Baker’s Wife was pieced together, cut apart, and put back together again before resembling its final form.

This highly involved principle demonstrates another manner of inventive design that uses a different method but maintains the aim of particularity as discussed previously with Patricia and Irene’s complex dyeing and re-dyeing process. Pushing the confines of what is possible with the materials at hand to create a variety of colours, shades, and textures ultimately produces visual entities that are complex to look at. Confusing the eye like this “holds attention longer”, Ann maintains, which makes viewers look more intricately at individual segments of the production, and enables the costume design to guide specific focus by not immediately ceding attention elsewhere.

Understanding the methods behind the resultant impacts of a show can be as, if not more, important and interesting than the final product of the show itself sometimes. A phone call Ann had last August with James Lapine reminds us this is a notion we may be treated more to in the imminent future, when he called to enquire as to the location of some design sketches for the book he is working on (Putting It Together: How Stephen Sondheim and I Created 'Sunday in the Park with George') to document more thoroughly the genesis of the pair’s landmark and beloved musical.

In continuation of the notion that origin stories contain their own intrinsic value beyond any final product, Ann first became Pat’s intern through a heart-warming and tenacious tale. Ann sent letters to three notable designers when finishing graduate school. Only Patricia Zipprodt replied, with a message to say she “didn’t have anything now but let me think about it and maybe in the future.” It got to the future, and Ann took the encouragement of her previous response to try and contact Pat again. Upon being told she was out of town with a show, Ann proceeded to chase Pat through various phone books and telephone wires across different states and theatres until she finally found her. She was bolstered by the specifics of their call and ran off the phone to write an imploring note – hinging on the premise of a shared connection to Montana. She took an arrow, stabbed it through a cowboy hat, put it in a box with the note that was written on raw hide, and mailed it to New York with bated breath and all of her hopes and wishes.

Pat was knife-edgingly close to missing the box, through a matter of circumstance and timing. Importantly, she didn’t. Ann got a response, and it boded well: “Alright alright alright! You can come to New York!”

Subsequently, Ann’s long career in the design world of the theatre has included notable credits such as: Sunday in the Park with George (1984) Into the Woods (1987, 1997) Falsettos (1992) Beauty and the Beast (1994, 1997) Little Me (1998) Company (2006) Road Show (2008) The People in the Picture (2011) Merrily We Roll Along (1985, 1990, 2012, segment in Six by Sondheim 2013) Passion (2013) The Visit (2015) The Color Purple (2015) The Prince of Egypt (2021)

From early days in the city sleeping on a piece of foam on a friend’s floor, to working collaboratively alongside Pat, to using what she’d learnt from her mentor in designing whole shows herself, and going on to win prestigious awards for her work – the cycle of the theatre and the importance of handing down wisdom from those who possess it is never more evident.

As Ann summarises it meaningfully, “the theatre is a continuing, changing, evolving, emotional ball”. It’s raw, it’s alive, it needs people, it needs stories, it needs documentation of history to remember all that came before.

In periods where there can physically be no new theatre, it’s made ever the more clear for the need not to forget what value there is in the tales to be told from the past.

Through this retrospective, we’ve seen the tour de force influence of a relatively small handful of women shaping a relatively large portion of the visual scape of some of Broadway’s brightest moments.

But it’s significant to consider how disproportionate this female impact was, in contrast with how massively male dominated the rest of the creative theatre industry has been across the last century.

Assessing variations in attitudes and approaches to relationships and families in these women in the context of their professional careers over this time period presents interesting observations. And indeed, manners in which things have changed over the past hundred years.

As Ann Hould-Ward speaks of her experiences, one of her reflections is how much this was a “very male dominated world”. And one that didn’t accommodate for women with families who also wanted careers. As an intern, she didn’t even feel she could tell Patricia Zipprodt about the existence of her own young child until after 6 months of working with her. With all of these male figures around them, it would be often questioned “How are you going to do the work? How are you going to manage [with a family]?”, and that it was “harder to convince people that you were going to be able to do out-of-towns, to be able to go places.” Simply put, the industry “didn't have many designers who were married with children.”

Patricia herself in the previous generation demonstrates this restricting ethos. “In 1993, Zipprodt married a man whose proposal she had refused some 43 years earlier.” She had just newly graduated college and “she declined [his proposal] and instead moved to New York.” Faced with the family or career conundrum, she chose the latter. By the 1950s, it then wasn’t seen as uncommon to have both, it was seen as impossible.

Her husband died just five years after the pair were married in 1998, as did Patricia herself the following year. One has to wonder if alternative decisions would’ve been made and lives lived differently if she’d experienced a different context for working women in her younger life.

But occupying any space in the theatre at all was only possible because of the efforts of and strides made by women in previous generations.

When Aline Bernstein first started designing for Broadway theatre in 1916, women couldn’t even vote. She became the first female member of the United Scenic Artists of America union in 1926, but only because she was sworn in under the false and male moniker of brother Bernstein. In fact, biographies often centralise on her involvement in a “passionate” extramarital love affair with novelist Thomas Wolfe – disproportionately so for all of her remarkable contributions to the theatrical, charitable and academic worlds, and instead having her life defined through her interactions with men.

As such, it is apparent how any significant interactions with men often had direct implications over a woman’s career, especially in this earlier half of the century. Only in their absence was there comparative capacity to flourish professionally.

Irene Sharaff had no notable relationships with men. She did however have a significant partnership with Chinese-American painter and writer Mai-mai Sze from “the mid-1930s until her death”. Though this was not (nor could not be) publicly recognised or documented at the time, later by close acquaintances the pair would be described as a “devoted couple”, “inseparable”, and as holding “love and admiration for one another [that] was apparent to everyone who knew them.” This manner of relationship for Irene in the context of her career can be theorised as having allowed her the capacity to “reach a level of professional success that would have been unthinkable for most straight women of [her] generation”.

Moving forwards in time, Irene and Mai-mai presently rest where their ashes are buried under “two halves of the same rock” at the entrance to the Music and Meditation Pavilion at Lucy Cavendish College in Cambridge, which was “built following a donation by Sharaff and Sze”. I postulate that this site would make for an interesting slice of history and a perhaps more thought-provoking deviation for tourists away from being shepherded up and down past King’s College on King’s Parade as more usually upon a visit to Cambridge.

In this more modern society at the other end of this linear tree of remarkable designers, options for women to be more open and in control of their personal and professional lives have increased somewhat.

Ann Hould-Ward later in her career would no longer “hide that [she] was a mother”, in fear of not being taken seriously. Rather, she “made a concerted effort to talk about [her] child”, saying “because at that point I had a modicum of success. And I thought it was supportive for other women that I could do this.”

If one aspect passed down between these women in history are details of the craft and knowledge accrued along the way, this statement by Ann represents an alternative facet and direction that teaching of the future can take. Namely, that by showing through example, newer generations will be able to comprehend the feasibility of occupying different options and spaces as professional women. Existing not just as designers, or wives, or mothers, or all, or one – but as people, who possess an immense talent and skill. And that it is now not just possible, but common, to be multifaceted and live the way you want to live while working.

This is not to say all of the restrictions and barriers faced by women in previous generations have been removed, but rather that as we build a larger wealth of history of women acting with autonomy and control to refer back to, things can only get easier to build upon for the future.

Who knows what Broadway and theatre in general will look like when it returns – both on the surface with respect to this facet of costume design, and also more deeply as to the inner machinations of how shows are put together and presented. The largely male environment and the need to tick corporate and commercial boxes will not have vanished. One can only hope that this long period of stasis will have foregrounded the need and, most importantly, provided the time to revaluate the ethos in which shows are often staged, and the ways in which minority groups – like women – are able to work and be successful within the theatre in all of the many shows to come. 

Notable sources:

Photographs – predominantly from the New York Public Library digital archives. IBDB – the Internet Broadway Database. Broadway Nation Podcast (Eps. #17 and #18), David Armstrong, featuring Ann Hould-Ward, 2020. Behind the Curtain: Broadway’s Living Legends Podcast (Ep. #229), Robert W Schneider and Kevin David Thomas, featuring Ann Hould-Ward, 2020. Sense of Occasion, Harold Prince, 2017. Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical ‘Follies’, Ted Chapin, 2003. Finishing the Hat: Collected Lyrics (1954–1981) with Attendant Comments, Principles, Heresies, Grudges, Whines and Anecdotes, Stephen Sondheim, 2010. The Complete Book of 1970s Broadway Musicals, Dan Deitz, 2015. The Complete Book of 1980s Broadway Musicals, Dan Dietz, 2016. Inventory of the Patricia Zipprodt Papers and Designs at the New York Public Library, 2004 – https://www.nypl.org/sites/default/files/archivalcollections/pdf/thezippr.pdf Extravagant Crowd’s Carl Van Vecten’s Portraits of Women, Aline Bernstein – http://brbl-archive.library.yale.edu/exhibitions/cvvpw/gallery/bernstein.html Jewish Heroes & Heroines of America: 150 True Stories of American Jewish Heroism – Aline Bernstein, Seymour Brody, 1996 – https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/aline-bernstein Ann Hould-Ward Talks Original “Into the Woods” Costume Designs, 2016 – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4EPe77c6xzo&ab_channel=Playbill American Theatre Wing’s Working in the Theatre series, The Design Panel, 1993 – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9sp-aMQHf-U&t=2167s&ab_channel=AmericanTheatreWing Journal of the History of Ideas Blog, Mai-mai Sze and Irene Sharaff in Public and in Private, Erin McGuirl, 2016 – https://jhiblog.org/2016/05/16/mai-mai-sze-and-irene-sharaff-in-public-and-in-private/ Irene Sharaff’s obituary, The New York Times, Marvine Howe, 1993 – https://www.nytimes.com/1993/08/17/obituaries/irene-sharaff-designer-83-dies-costumes-won-tony-and-oscars.html Obituary: Irene Sharaff, The Independent, David Shipman, 2011 – https://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/obituary-irene-sharaff-1463219.html Broadway Design Exchange – Florence Klotz – https://www.broadwaydesignexchange.com/collections/florence-klotz Obituary: Florence Klotz, The New York Times, 2006 – https://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/03/obituaries/03klotz.html

[morganaspendragonss]

quédate un segundo más (1/8)

@911lonestarangstweek day 8 - t is for...tumour, terminal, treatment

title from voy a quedarme by blas cantó, translates roughly to 'stay a second more'

thanks to @halsteadmarchs and @tarlos-spain for the beta!

as shown above, this will be eight chapters if all goes to plan, and i hope to finish it before season 3 begins. much of what is written both in this chapter and in future ones is ripped directly from life and i am only writing from my own perspective and experiences of losing a loved one to cancer.

ao3 | 1.6k | angst, hurt tk, cancer, terminal illness, more warnings to come in future chapters

A rare genetic mutation.

That’s what the doctors tell him when the results come back.

A rare genetic mutation that has rendered his cancer practically undetectable until its latest stages, until all that’s left to do is wait to die.

TK’s hands shake as various leaflets on Managing Your Diagnosis and What To Expect and Looking After Someone With Cancer are placed in them. He feels two steps to the side of himself, his entire world halting in its tracks the moment those words had left the doctor’s lips.

“I’m afraid it’s not good news,” he’d said, eyes wide and empathetic. “Your scans and blood results have come back showing evidence of a tumour on your pancreas. There are treatment options which we can and will—with your consent—pursue, however I have to inform you that your cancer is entering stage IV. It has begun to spread to your bladder and liver. I’m sorry to say that, at this point, treatment is more focused on managing your pain and making you as comfortable as possible; we do not anticipate recovery.”

It’s just… TK’s fine. He feels fine. Like, sure, he’s been a little more tired recently and he’s been getting these weird pains, but they always fade after a while, and he’s fine.

But he couldn’t deny the blood spotting his pee, the last straw which had finally sent him to the doctor’s office.

Too late, apparently.

A touch on his knee brings him back to reality with a start. TK looks up to meet the doctor’s kind gaze, and he wants to cry.

“I understand this is a lot to take in,” he’s saying. “If you have any questions, please ask.”

“I…” TK shakes his head, swallowing a couple of times before dropping his eyes to his knees, the words on the pamphlets blurred through his tears. “How long?”

The doctor hesitates a moment, then sighs regretfully. “I can’t say for certain. People frequently outlive their projected timeframes; equally, it could be less. However, given the way your tumour looks and the rate it appears to be spreading at, I would estimate around six months.”

Six months.

Six—six months.

“Oh,” TK says, and it feels wildly insufficient but it’s all he has. What even is there to say? He’s dying, and that’s...that’s that.

“Do you have a support system in place?” the doctor asks. “This is going to be a difficult process, and you are going to need other people to help you through it.”

TK nods slowly, not looking up. “M-My husband. Carlos. He was supposed to come with me today but he was called into work last minute. He’s a detective, so he couldn’t exactly refuse—not that that stopped him from trying.” He laughs wetly, remembering how he’d insisted that everything would be fine when Carlos had stalled leaving this morning. “And there’s my dad, and my team—my family. I’m a paramedic and I work in a fire station, so we’re all pretty close. I… Shit, I’m sorry. You don’t need to know all this.”

“It’s okay.” The doctor is still smiling, still so understanding, and TK wonders—just how many times has he had to do this? “I’m glad to hear you have solid support behind you; that’s going to be incredibly important for the coming months. I’ve also given you a few leaflets about support groups you can access, that your family can access, and, of course, your treatment team will be there every step of the way.

“Now,” he continues, returning to a semi-professional aspect, “I want to see you later this week to iron out how we’re going to proceed. For now, why don’t you go home and rest, allow yourself to process this? Does Friday at 10.30 work for your next appointment?”

TK nods absently, clutching the pamphlets tight enough to crease them. “That’s fine,” he whispers.

“Okay,” the doctor says, just as quiet. “Are you going to be okay to get home?”

“Yeah.”

But he doesn’t move. He can’t. In this room, he’s separated from the rest of the world—TK doesn’t want to go back into it, where he’ll have to tell everyone he loves that he’s… That he…

“TK.”

TK’s head snaps up at the doctor’s voice and he flushes a little at seeing his pointed look. “Sorry,” he mutters, scrambling to stand up.

The doctor stands too, much more gracefully than TK, and gets the door for him. “It’s okay. I’ll see you on Friday, TK, alright?”

He mumbles an affirmative then steps out of the office, taken aback for a moment by the bustle and noise in the corridor. It’s strange to witness it now, to see all these people who don’t know him from Adam going about their lives, while his has, in the span of thirty minutes, completely crumbled.

TK takes a deep breath (and how many of those does he have left?) and joins the flow.

*

He’s home.

That’s… He doesn’t remember it. He must have unlocked the front door because the keys are in his hand and he’s standing in the entryway, but TK has no idea how he managed to get from the doctor’s office to here.

He made good time though, judging by the clock on the wall.

Small victories.

With heavy steps, TK walks to the sofa, easing himself down and tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. It still doesn’t feel real that there's this—this thing inside him, growing and mutating and killing him. He’s not sure when it finally will.

Maybe in a few months, when his skin is sagging off his bones and his hair is gone and even the very act of breathing is a challenge.

Or maybe in a few hours, when Carlos comes home and TK has to break the news. TK can picture his face now, the way his ever-present smile will crack and break, the shock and hurt and grief that will take its place.

He thinks he understands his dad now.

TK closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind, just for a moment, of everything that’s happened today.

Which, as it turns out, is a mistake, because that’s when he remembers the letter that came for them yesterday and the phone call they’re going to make after dinner.

The phone call they were going to make after dinner.

TK wants to scream at the unfairness of it all. They’ve been waiting for that moment for so long, the moment in which they found out they were finally cleared to adopt a kid. And now…

Gone.

Carlos is going to be crushed.

As if the universe is reacting to that last thought, the door suddenly swings open, marking Carlos’s return from his impromptu shift. For a moment, TK panics. He’s not ready, dammit, he needs more time to plan and to figure it all out, how he feels and what he’s going to say, but—

But, in the end, it doesn’t matter. He could have had the most detailed and well-thought out plan in the world and it wouldn’t have mattered.

Because all it takes is one look at Carlos’s smile for TK to fall apart.

Carlos is by his side in an instant, gathering him in his arms and sliding to the floor with him when TK can no longer support himself on the couch. TK fists his hands in his husband’s shirt and cries into his neck, all the emotion that’s been slowly building all day exploding from him all at once.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Carlos shushes, which only makes TK cry harder, because how is he supposed to tell him that it’s not?

He shakes his head and clings onto him tighter, feeling Carlos do the same to him in return. TK’s always felt safe in his arms and it’s no different now; he thinks that, if he can just stay here forever, maybe things will turn out okay after all.

But the moment ends, as they tend to do. When TK’s sobs have run dry, Carlos carefully pulls back from him, his hands rising to cup his face and wipe the tears from his cheeks.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asks softly, so much worry in those damn eyes that it hurts. “Is it… Did the doctor say something? Are you okay?”

TK opens his mouth, but the words refuse to come out. All he manages is a wordless shake of the head, and even that turns Carlos’s expression into the picture of devastation. He can’t bear to look at it, so he wraps his arms around Carlos’s waist and leans into him again, resting his head on his chest.

Carlos holds him and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “We’ll get through it,” he promises. “Whatever it takes.”

And it turns out that he does have a few more tears left in him; TK squeezes his eyes shut and breathes out shakily as a couple of lone drops fall down his cheeks. “We can’t,” he whispers hoarsely. Carlos stiffens and shifts as if to look TK in the eyes, but TK doesn’t let him. If he has to look at Carlos, he doesn’t think he’ll have the courage to say it. He hesitates a moment longer, a huge lump forming in his throat, but eventually he manages it.

“It’s cancer,” he chokes out. “Stage IV. Incurable. They think… I’ve got six months.”

It’s like time stops.

They’re both motionless on the floor of their front room, neither saying anything, barely breathing as the weight of it settles between them.

TK doesn’t know how long it lasts for, but suddenly Carlos sobs and grips onto him with a bruising strength. Carlos’s body heaves and shakes with the force of his cries, and it’s TK’s turn to hold him as tears drip down Carlos’s cheeks into his hair.

And, in that moment, it becomes real.

[midnight-in-town]

About the current (last?) arc of AnY and going full circle

Sorry if some fans already mentioned those ideas but I’ve been rereading the current arc, because it’s been quite long and the pace has its flaws sometimes, so I wanted to broaden my perspective on the story. 

First of all, as an introduction can I just say that I’m, as always, impressed by Hak’s character. He had so much cliché and shallow potential when the story started (I really used to roll my eyes at him), but he became one of my absolute favorite by how deep and strong-hearted he actually is, once he allows people behind the walls he built around him. Anyway, my love for his character & development knows no boundary. I had to say this, ok. I’ll explain why later in the post. Moving on. 

A conflict of generation

If there is one thing I love about Kusanagi-sensei, it’s the feminine touch she adds to her writing. For example, when she naturally addressed periods during the Xing arc and it fit perfectly, because that’s just how her writing goes. In this arc, it shows through the initial bold move to tell us readers about the past through the thoughts and words of a character we’ve never met, that is to say, Yonhi, Yuhon’s wife and Suwon’s mother. 

And yet, it made absolute sense, because Yonhi was the reason behind the cataclysm that eventually led to Yuhon killing priests, as well as the falling-out between him and his younger brother, Il. All along, Yonhi was the silent but pained witness to this feud, watching as the ego of two brothers destroyed everything when none of the two backed down, leading to first Kashi’s death, then Yuhon’s murder and finally Suwon’s coup. 

So, in a way, even if I think Suwon makes a far better king than Yuhon or Il, his circumstances kinda precede the logical decision to get Il out of the picture before he completely annihilated his own kingdom in poverty and war, because there is too much resentment and hatred that fueled Suwon while growing up, even if we readers know that his motivations are primarily about saving Kouka from war against the Kai Empire.

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely despise both Yuhon and Il but, unfortunately for Suwon, Yona growing up sheltered and mostly unaware of the horrible truth highlights her own decisions throughout the series to be completely selfless and wanting to own up to her father’s misjudgement, rather than trying to get back at Suwon, effectively breaking the cycle of hatred amongst the royal family. 

Why the Wind Tribe kept on supporting Il when everyone else could notice that he was betting on his daughter as the reincarnation of King Hiryuu to save his country is beyond me (Mundok plz explain). Not that Yuhon was better, preaching wars, and I’m glad that Il eventually reconciled with Yonhi, telling him that he would accept Suwon’s judgement but...

...I can’t forgive him for his words. 

Like Yonhi, I’d rather he would have hoped that his conflict with his brother did not reach his children than entertaining it the way he did.

Hopefully though, now that Yona read Yonhi’s memoirs, she will work towards achieving that goal. Not that I have any doubt, since she never really managed to hate Suwon. 

Speaking of the past generation, reading the latest chapters I couldn’t help but wonder about Yona's sad dream... could it be that she inherited Kashi’s gift? Kashi did say that she had these prophetic visions since very young which doesn’t seem to be Yona’s case, but I’ll keep the idea in mind, because it’s interesting. I mean, from Yonhi’s memoirs, it seems that Kashi envisioned that the child she would have would be Hiryuu’s reincarnation (whoever the father was going to be), so Yona inheriting the same prophetic gift from her mother would make sense. 

What an ironic parallel to Suwon inheriting the Crimson Illness from Yonhi if that’s the case, am I right? 

Yona as Kouka’s next Queen

And by that I do not mean Keishuk’s plan to marry her to Suwon, because of her popularity with Kouka’s people. Obviously, the story always was to conclude in Yona getting her throne back and that’s even easier to imagine with Suwon’s disabling illness, but becoming a ruler is tough work and Yona had no real experience acting as a leader for an entire country. 

She didn’t know much before her father’s murder and, even after she became a runaway with Hak and the rest of the HHB, she finely dealt with crises affecting some parts of the kingdom but never the whole kingdom at once, like it’s doomed to happen with the war against the Kai Empire. 

So I really appreciated her stepping up when Suwon couldn’t, because that’s definitely good training and we see the results in the latest chapters:

To be fair, I always thought that Keishuk would be the biggest thorn in Yona’s side during this arc but, as many characters have said in this arc, he’s rather clever and honest about what he intends to achieve, which is why it’s not in his interests to get in the way of Yona if they share a similar goal. 

Looking forward to her facing even greater challenges. Good luck, Yona. <3

War against the Kai Empire: there is strength in unity

The Kai Empire has been depicted as the story’s big bad for a long while now and the common goal for which Yona’s faction and Suwon’s allies could unite, but I’m glad to get more specifics and new characters to explore that part of the plot.

Namely, Mei and Vall. With Chagol, they seem like the perfect foil trio to Suwon, Yona and Hak, except that Chagol seems like a real thorn in the other two’s backs, when a strong bond still ties our main trio in spite of the sad circumstances of the beginning. I particularly love the mirroring reflection between Mei and Yona...

&

...except that Mei is not at odds with one kingdom but with two and that she also deals with the Crimson Illness. :/

Now that war has started, the big threat that South Kai represents will obviously be dealt with, but Kouka kingdom will need more than its five tribes to win this. That’s where I’m sure we all expect to see old “enemies” come back, namely Xing Kingdom, since Kouren signed a military agreement with Suwon, thanks to Yona and Tao. I would bet that this won’t be enough either, but Xing are the only known allies that Kouka kingdom has. 

There is another “enemy” we know from the previous arc though, who have strong feelings against the Kai Empire, specifically about rulers treating their women badly and they are...

...Ying Kuelbo and the Tully tribe. 

The big difference between Xing Kingdom and the Tully tribe is that Suwon never met or dealt directly with Kuelbo the way he did with Kouren and Tao. The Tully tribe lost and Kuelbo ran away, betrayed and having to find a new way to take on the Kai Empire. That’s why I think the Tully tribe would eventually make for a good ally in this war: it showed good promises when Yuran and Yona got along and I think Yona understood where Kuelbo was coming from, especially now that Mei is with them and can probably tell them in details about Chagol.

Not saying this will happen soon, but since there is someone who met and fought against Kuelbo, probably gaining his respect, if this person was to seek the Tully tribe to make them Kouka Kingdom’s ally on Yona’s guidance, I think Kuelbo would give it a thought. That’s right, I’m talking about Hak, who’s currently on his way with Yoon to the Earth Tribe to fetch a drug that will not be able to save neither Suwon nor Mei, thanks Zeno for spoiling us. 

That’s what I meant when I said that Hak slowly became one of my favorite characters throughout the story. While the Sky Tribe seems to be taking bets on who between Yona and Suwon will eventually sit for good on that throne, there is a good chance that Hak will be one of the key players when it comes to winning that war against South Kai. Not that we should expect any less from the Thunder Beast. <3

To be very honest though, I expected this arc to be very tough for his character, because the truth behind Il’s death and Suwon’s coup would never be easily understandable to him (Yona’s own words, not mine): 

Yet, surprisingly he was able to at least listen and, no matter if he will ever understand Suwon’s choice or not, he decided to trust in Yona’s decision to back Suwon in the rising political issues.  

In general, I love how Hak is the least bound by the past before Suwon’s coup. He did respect Il as his king, but he did not protect Yona in the beginning for anyone else’s sake but her own. Just like Kashi once asked him to always protect Yona (which is sweet since she could see the future) but, considering he never even thought about her words once in the story, it’s likely he doesn’t remember that at all, making the choice to be by Yona’s side defined as solely his own. 

It’s this strength of his that eventually led him to say recently that he would go fetch that drug with Yoon, knowing that it was for Suwon’s sake (surprising Suwon himself), just like he will definitely fight for Kouka Kingdom, not because Yona wants him to but because it’s clearly his own desire (see ch211 where he let Yun go alone so that he could help the Earth Tribe fight):

All that makes Hak the wildest card of every agency in the plot, not simply because he’s strong and reliable and the biggest worry of the Sky Tribe, but because...

...Yona and the four dragons will never give him up.

Through Hak, Yona will be able to assert her political weight and he will be there for her, like he always was, making it impossible for their little group to lose. What a power move, I love it. 

I think I should stop there because I already rambled so much. Looking forward to the rest of the arc, it’s going to be a wild ride!! 

[utilitycaster]

To me the relationship between Ted and Opal is the most important and consitent plot point in EXU. On the other hand everything with the Plateau and the Nameless Ones feels like it builds up something for C3. I think that Matt gave plot points about the state of the world (crater, sigil) and Aabria used it as a jumping off point and created the city as her contribution. So as long as things like the memory loss and the crown are dealt with, I feel pretty good about the story of EXU.

So I deleted another ask that was similarly purely speculative and I just want to say that like...I have open DMs/replies and obviously reblogs, and if you want to actually discuss your opinions that is always a better place; the askbox is for questions and suggestions and, well, things that explicitly invite my input, which I'm going to give anyway but it feels like this could have been a reply. Because I wholly disagree with much of this:

The crater is certainly a pre-existing concept because Thordak's presence in Emon happened, but including the sigil seems very odd given that he is a player in the world and it appearing was a surprise plot point in the second episode; I think the general worldbuilding was "Thordak's crater is here and there's weird magic possibly tied to the fire plane should you wish to use that" (emphasis speculative, and mine).

I am probably least interested in Opal and Ted, or at least, I was, but more so now that at least that pulls in whatever the fuck is happening with Syngorn. I think you might be correct that this will be treated as the main plot in terms of resolution; but the reason I think this is that Opal being central came up in the interviews and because of how the last episode ended. If you don't think the plot is the main plot until episode 7 and external press...that's not good.

I like Opal and Ted's relationship! I think it's fun for the character, in the same way I don't necessarily really think we'll get all the details of who Dorian really is - and that is truly tangential to the plot, despite any curiosity we as an audience may have. But compared to the fact that they open the entire story with memory loss at the crater, being approached by someone high-up in the Nameless Ones, a vestige of divergence, and sigil mysteriously appearing? The fact that the details of Ted no longer being in Byroden appear at the halfway point of the series and the Ted and Syngorn plot is primarily in stingers?

Again, at this point, yeah, that might end being the main plot...but just thinking about this, after episode 1 it seemed the main plot would be "okay we're missing a week and a person, we're in deep with the Nameless Ones, and we have a vestige of such profound power that it makes two people ill." After episode 2 it seemed the main plot was "well we can escape those problems and maybe find out more about this sigil that's possibly tied to the crater/memory loss by talking to Gilmore." After episodes 3 and even 4 it seemed it was "okay, we go to these ruins, come back, resolve the rest." But we keep getting balls thrown in the air - further mysteries about Ted, the people from Syngorn, Niirdal-Poc still existing, the journey to the Iron Authority instead of returning home - and none of it has been resolved, and again, I'm enjoying myself, but that is because everything other than the plot is great so I'm treating this like those big-budget artistic sci fi movies where you're like "the aesthetic and worldbuilding and acting and dialogue is all incredible and the plot falls apart if you breathe on it a little too heavily."

I was talking to someone about this recently who made the point that the party seems to have missed a lot of checks early on that might have introduced the Ted and Myr'atta plot back in Emon and honestly? forcing one of those checks or giving it for free would have made a world of difference; I think the party would have made far different choices that in turn would have significantly tightened up the plot. And you don't need to do that, in a long-running campaign, but you really, really do in an 8-episode series.

I do want to speak to people talking about this setting things up for C3 because that was in the anon ask I deleted: I'm not saying it doesn't, necessarily, but I think there is a big difference between "C3 may, understandably, deal with some of the consequences of things that happen in EXU. much as it will deal with consequences of C1 and C2, because it's the same world" and "EXU is explicitly leaving threads for C3".

The former I absolutely agree with; that's how shared worldbuilding works and it was the case with C1 for C2. The latter is, I think, a wildly unfair expectation to place Aabria and a terrible marketing choice for the series and bodes ill for future seasons of EXU.

EXU was very much put forth as having appeal for people who, understandably, don't have the time or inclination to watch a 100+ episode series. I have already seen reviews criticizing it for relying on past information; while I don't agree with this completely, given the difficulties with the plot this does, for example, feel like it may ring true for people who have no emotional connection to Gilmore. A tighter, more Emon-focused plot that happened to include Gilmore to the same extent (or even greater) would probably not have the same criticism, but as is, I think viewers unfamiliar with C1 may legitimately be saying "why did we spend time on this."

EXU can have threads that can be picked up with in C3 - it does not need to, for example, resolve every detail of the Nameless Ones, only the status of this party with regards to Poska - but to say "and to know what happens about the major event, in Emon, which is tied to Thordak, ie, how the series was marketed, which was introduced to the audience long before Myr'atta, you need to watch C3" is something I'd consider a serious misstep. The story in EXU should be somewhat self-contained, with the consequences of that self-contained story fueling the plot; it should not be a collection of plot points for a later day. That's not just going to alienate potential viewers of future seasons who don't intend to watch full CR campaigns; it's kind of a shitty thing to do to your guest DM, to say "oh throw to me, you can DM in my world but you need to set up for my show even if it makes your plot seem more unfocused". EXU can and should be thought of as its own show in the same world, not a mere appendage to the flagship.

I'm still withholding final judgement until it can, you know, be final. I think there's a still a chance I am very pleasantly surprised! As mentioned I and much of the fandom had doubts about the campaign 2 finale to the point that some people were writing, as I referred to it at the time, vivisections and calling them post-mortems. I disliked it then and I disliked it now and I will reserve judgement on EXU's plot structure on the whole until after the finale; I am just saying that while it may end up standing quite well as a complete story in the end, the pacing has felt increasingly off to me since the midway point and if this is just setup for C3 I think that makes it worse, not better.

[shyrose57]

YOO BROTHERS ANON BACK FROM THE DEAD? My phone started to fucking die half way (like extreme lag, keyboard stopped working at times, sudden shut offs, etc) and I was too scared to work on this in fear it'd get deleted. But im fucking back and have a new phone so I was able to finally finish. Plus after I finished the Brothers AU stuff I decided I hated Tip of The Iceburg AU lore and wanted to redo it so held off til I got that mostly done. I'm also trying to redo From Future to Past a lil bit but thats going slowly and decided I already waited way to long. Some other stuff happened as well like falling out of the fandom (Breath of The Wild and Linked Universe I got into and am actually still kinda in) then getting tossed back in but, anyway there's some smaller details I left out of Rans time living in the wild but everything here is the big stuff. 

Keep in mind most of this happens when he's just 13. And he never acknowledges or treats his trauma, leaving it to build and affect him more and more over time. 

When Ran first steps out of Mizu and into the world, he has nothing but a sword at his back and a book with little information on how to survive at his hip. The book really only provides him how to make certain things (like tools) and some basic information (Spiders are passive in daytime, how to farm, and basic information about each nether biome). The book acts more like a brief overview of the overworld and little information on how to survive than an actual survival book. Because of this the book is basically useless, Ran eventually uses it as a way of marking down notes and ripping out papers to cover wounds and tie things. He quickly learns that sleeping in high places (like a tree or a hole in a mountain) is the safest possible place to sleep, as no mobs or people can get him. Though due to the nights of constant screaming from mobs, his own internal fighting, and eventual hunting, he develops insomnia and paranoia. Leaving him unable to close his eyes in fear of being ambushed, believing himself to be forever unsafe and in danger. When he does manage to sleep he keeps his weapons nearby (like in his hand or under his pillow) and jumps awake at the slightest sound. 

He moves around constantly, never staying in one place for more than 2 weeks. He eventually finds a snow biome and after seeing the little amount of mobs and knowing the snow is to deep for any sane human to try to travel through, he decides to stay there for a entire year and a half before moving again. During this time he grows both physically and mentally. He goes from being a small, lithe 5'5 13 year old to being a strong 6'7 15 year old. He also uses this time to come to terms with what happened and swear revenge against Ranbob for everything he's been through and everyone who's died. Even when Ran came to terms with what his brother did, the promise "Ill never abandon you." Continues to ring in his head, which does nothing but fuel his hatred, believing his brother has been lying to him ever since he was a child. While also growing his knowledge on the world and his survival knowledge, becoming an almost perfect survivalist. 

When he was first alone and dealing with all the emotions brought upon him, he finds out he's hunted very suddenly. He first approached Raq (who he didn't know at the time) when he was desperate and fresh out of Mizu, asking him if there's any nearby town or city or really anything. Raq pretends to want to help Ran and let's him stay at his camp, giving him food and a warm place to sleep. But its 2 full days later, deep in the night when Raq finally trys to attack him, aiming to incapacitate him. But Ran is able to escape him and run away but not without a injury. 

During the fight Raq manages to hit him, specifically on his left ear. He manages to cut deep, but not deep enough, leaving the top of his ear just barely hanging on. Ran runs away and actually has a bit of a head start due to him tripping Raq. But Raq manages to follow/track him, due to the blood flowing out of Rans ear. Ran eventually realizes Raq is tracking him by the blood trail he's leaving, so he stops, steals himself, and rips off the remaining part of his ear, barely holding back a yell, then Ran pushes his hand down on the wound and continues to run. Raq finds the ear and simply hums, intrigued by the lengths Ran will go to escape, before turning around, deciding to let Ran escape this time, because he knows he'll see him again. Ran continues to run, terrified and borderline crying due to the fear and pain. For the next 3 days he believes he is still being followed by Raq so he continues to run, never resting until he eventually collapses from exhaustion. His ear eventually heals over but never grows back, it becomes a reminder of the fact he is being constantly hunted by people and will never escape them. 

Ran encounters Raq a total of 32 times during his time living out in the wild. And every time Ran manages to get away, though sometimes more injured than others. Eventually it gets to the point Raq greets Ran like a old friend. After their 3rd encounter Raq starts to bring others with him, eventually he has 5 others helping him hunt Ran. Though Ran grows and is able to either outwit them by using traps or is just simply able to avoid them most of the time. Though he still gets hit at times, once he made a mistake and a trap failed, leading to him getting stabbed and passing out cause blood loss.

The Nether is less than kind to Ran but kinder than the overworld. He gets shot a lot from both ghasts and skeletons. And almost falls into lava multiple times. He gets stabbed and trips more times than he can count. But he actually manages to make acquaintance with the Piglins he meets due to him being polite to them and giving them gold for nothing in return. He actually is close enough to them to get directions for free and is even given resistance potions when Ran states he is leaving and not coming back as a farewell and stay safe gift. He ends up staying in the Nether for much longer than a normal person would and becomes adapt at traversing and surviving in it. It almost becomes his safe spot because the hunters have never followed him into the Nether. He would've lived there if he could, but due to the heat he isn't used too and the fact he just despised Ghasts more than the hunters, and they were everywhere in there, he didn't stay. But would often vist. Eventually he found netherite which he quickly covered his first and only diamond sword with. His sword also had the enchantments, sharpness 2, unbreaking 3, and sweaping edge. Over time and use the enchantments dimmed, only faintly remaining. At this point Ran had to flee his snow biome house due to a sudden attack, leaving behind the materials he needed to fix the enchantments and his sword. So he abandoned using it, but kept it cause it helped him through years of fighting, he can't exactly drop and leave it.

Extra stuff I couldn't find a way to fit in:

-Ran manages to find a village but actually gets kicked out cause he punches the blacksmith for upping the price of an iron sword.

-Ran slowly grows more cold, uncaring, rude, and harsh over time due to trauma. He doesn't realize he became this way due to untreated trauma until he arrives to The Pit where Watson is able to help him start to slowly heal. Which is why he becomes more open and joking in The Pit because he feels safe and loved. 

-When the group leaves The Pit he becomes cold and hard again due to habit. Its his way of subconsciously defending himself.

-His body is covered in scars due to the hunters and his brushes with mobs. 

-Ran knows how to tailor his own clothes and has made many different kinds of clothes, all designed for certain biomes. 

-Ran never farmed, he always hunted.

-Ran never really built anything, instead he preferred to dig into the side of a mountain or make shelter in a cave. Its only in the snow biome did he actually build a house. And even then it was very clearly meant to be a temporary house. Though he did end up living there longer than he intended. 

-He was at first extremely reluctant to kill, but was forced to kill hunters and animals multiple times. To the point he became almost numb to it and wouldn't hesitate to kill if he was threatened. 

-He would sometimes dream about his family only for it to end with them being slaughtered, which really messed him up and he would just lay in bed mindlessly every time it happened. These dreams still happen. 

Also a edit to when the brothers met in the Pit, Ran actually gets his hands on a broken trident accidentally left in the arena (its the front end only, and the middle spike is shorter than the rest due to a error when being made) and ends up tripping Ranbob then stabbing the trident into the ground over him (if that makes sense?), actually trapping Ranbob, with the middle spike just above his throat, leaving him unable to move unless he wants to cut his neck and trapped on the ground. 

Tip of The Iceburg:

So Karl's watch is still damaged. And Isaac is still the one to convince him to seek help from the others. But midway through the meeting Phil speaks up, mentioning how he found a book in a ruined village that had a replica of Karl's Watch etched into the cover, but is in a language he's never seen. After passing it around the table no one recognizes it. Everyone's discouraged until Foolish suggests they look for the other Travelers (what ima call the Tales people) and maybe one of them will know. Eventually, with picture pinning of supposedly who could be in their world, they all split off into groups to look. Ran is still the first found, but when he's shown the book he actually confirms a part of it is in a old enderman language that fell off long ago, he's able to translate half of that section but says that Ranbob, who studied old languages much more thoroughly than Ran can do the rest (cause here their still brothers but nothing in Brothers AU happened). Giving everyone hope. Eventually Ranbob gets found and translates the rest, but a great amount is still untranslated, which is a problem. So now its a journey of finding more people and mixing languages to find out the rest. 

A sudden twist to the story happens when Billiam joins, and due to his experience with the egg is actually able to translate a random page in the back of the book (the egg made its own language to prevent its plans being discovered). Where they find out the egg is what broke Karls watch, because to it humans are nothing but entertainment, and it gets joy seeing them suffer and wants to mess with their lives. When it gets revealed to the rest of the SMP what the page says, everyone gets pissed. And even when its found how to get the Travelers home they refuse to leave until the egg is destroyed, a few are mad at it and want revenge, others are scared and want to try to prevent it from coming into their time. Karl eventually relents and lets them join in making a plan to take down the egg.  

Also have some fluff scenarios with the brothers since its been a while:

-There's two types of resistance potions in their world, fire resistance and water resistance. The latter of which the brothers have memorized how to make. Their friends do not know water resistance exists. Which leads to the brothers pranking their friends by drinking some then jumping into a lake. Giving Watson a heartattack and making Isaac sob. The two quickly reemerge seeing their reactions and calm them and reassure them. After the explanation you can bet they got a talking too and where grounded. 

-Ran teaches Ranbob to fight!

-Ranbob teaches Ran to fish, Ran complains the entire time. 

-Ranbob responds by threatening to teach Ran how to farm. Ran stops complaining after that….mostly

-Everyone has found the brothers either asleep against each other or one asleep on the other at least twice. 

-*insert Arthur get out of the tank meme but instead it's Ranbob trying to get Ran out of a tree so he can greet people.*

-Ran has his first night in years without a nightmare! 

Now something else I'm planning to work on soon: What happened to Ranbob after Ran left Mizu?

I hope me sending stuff is still ok after so long of sending nothing. 

Good to have you back, Brothers Anon! And sorry to hear about your phone, that sounds like it must've a day.

--------

Brothers AU:

I see we're back to Traumatize The Brothers Time, fantastic.

The fact that Ran has these items on him is interesting. Did he just have them with him when he was fleeing? Did he have the time to grab them? Was he preparing ahead? What led to him having these useful tools on hand when he was forced to flee?

How does he fare with mobs, being a mob hybrid himself? I think it's somewhat been implied that he's good with Endermen, but what about others?

How do the gladiator gang go about helping with his insomnia and paranoia, if they are aware of it?

What's it like for him during his time in the snow-biome, since he's there for awhile? Does he make a more-permanent camp/shelter? Do anything particularly interesting?

Poor Ran! That must've been quite the shock for him, and I imagine it didn't help his trust issues.

How does he get to the Nether? Does he have a base there? What do the piglins think of him, and vice versa? How does the Nether life effect him overall?

What happened to those materials left behind? Where they discovered? Does he manage to go back and get them on the roadtrip? Do they visit his homes on the trip?

How does the group react to his sudden change when they're leaving? What kind of clothes does he make? Does he ever make some for the others? Does he enjoy it, or is it just because it's necessary?

How do the fishermen feel about the close call with the trident, and what happens to the weapon?

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

Tip Of the Iceberg:

I don't remember if this was mentioned before, but was it Karl's watch that caused the issue then? Who wrote the book? Does the egg have a connection with them?

How do they fare with their plans to take down the Egg(and potentially the Eggpire, if that's a thing here)? How do those with previous experience with Egg feel about this, and what part do they play?

--------

Fluff! At long last!

I love how their thought process went to that. 'We can make water resistance potions, lets jump in a lake in front of our friends'.

That sounds like it should be entertaining.

Ranbob knows how to farm?

That's such a funny mental image. 'Ran, get out of the tree, you have to socialize'. 'Hissing'.

Yay, good for him!

Ooo, what?

Always.

[jj-ktae]

Note II - Aldehydes

Moodboard : Courtesy of the lovely Jacqueline @jaebeomsmullet​​ ! Thank you for helping and hyping and just being here whenever I need it.

›  Title : Fragrances ›  Genre : Angst, Fluff, Romance, Composer!Jungkook x Perfume Maker!Reader ›  Pairing :  Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader ›  Warning : Mentions of Suicide, heavy subjects, depression (none of these are used with the idea of glamourising mental illness), strong language, smut in later chapters probably. Do not read if any of these trigger you.

›  Author’s note : This is another version of the story I wrote a few years ago for GOT7. Some of the events will be different, others will not change just like some paragraphs will be the same and others won’t. Informations, definitions and words are taken from here and here.

›  Summary : In the world of Perfume making, it is believed that everyone has their own natural fragrance. It is also believed that everyone has that one scent capable of making them feel a thousand things. You find yours in the form of a composer on the verge of breaking, right when you have to face one of the biggest challenge in your life.

Masterlist | Note I - Ionones | 

----------

Note II: Aldehydes

An aroma chemical that contains a functional group consisting of a carbon, a hydrogen, and an oxygen atom. Aldehydes can be derived from natural or synthetic materials. There are different types of scents associated with this chemical function but the most commonly referred to when profiling a scent as “aldehydic” is a sharp, metallic, crisp, slightly fatty impression often associated with the smell of clean textile or hot iron. One of the first “aldehydic” fragrances is the famous N°5 created by Perfumer Ernest Beaux in 1920 and launched by Gabrielle Chanel in 1921.

Your second day is worse than the first one. Jimin is all over the place, mixing essences and sniffing everything he can. You’re glad though, it makes him go silent whenever he concentrates on something, and you have time for focus. It doesn’t help because you’re still frustrated if not more, but at least you can overburden yourself in peace.

 The only light in all that shadow comes from the memory of Jungkook’s scent, precise yet unknown. You try to create something similar, but it’s everything and nothing at the same time and no matter the amount or variety of scent you use, you can’t even get close to it

His scent is a mystery.

It adds to your misery, like a voice mocking you for not being able to recognise a scent while another one forces you to crave for more. It feels like chasing a ghost.

The sound of your head against your office takes Jimin out of his momentum. “What’s happening?” He inquires. He gets up from his own working area to stand next to your powerless soul.

“When is the meeting?” You try because it is potentially the only hope for today. That powerful lady came in early to inform you about an upcoming meeting with the marketing team. The project seems big, because Jimin started to work as soon as she flew out of the laboratory. It’s been one day and he is so open about himself that you can already read his body language.

“3 p.m. I was thinking about a brainstorming. Let’s think about a concept.” He offers because this is going nowhere. You’re about to give up at any minute, and he needs you to be into it.

“What concept? I’m running in circles.” 

“Sexy? Provocateur? Romantic? Angsty? Bucolic?” 

“All of these have already been worked on so many times...I don’t think they want to go for something as...forthright. I’m quite sure they won’t be satisfied with a mere sexy perfume.” It’s what you understood - if your sudden creative freedom is anything to go by.

Jimin understands, his eyes now wide. He has no idea how to achieve that, but he still thinks you’re brilliant for thinking out of the box. He picks his notepad and starts writing everything you said, his brows furrowed.

“We want to be unique. The concept needs to be appealing to the greatest number without being too cliché. We are free to use what we want.” He notes things down and you find yourself peeking at the words, meaningful yet complex.

“So we need to mix a little bit of everything.” Jimin stops for a minute before a whine escapes his thick lips, “I’m lost, help me.”

“We can’t work this way.” You raise your head slowly, ruffling your wild locks in a nonchalant way. “We have to find a scent and put a concept over it. We can’t force the scent based on an imaginary idea.” This only works when a brand has specific goals but here you have nothing. You can’t possibly force an idea into your head. 

Jimin looks pitiful as he puts the notepad away. “It’s going to be harder than I thought.”

And just like the day started, the meeting followed. You were not expecting much of it and you were right. The marketing project came and explained you were free to do anything you wanted. Their main objective was to follow you on whatever you wanted to create, and it’s infuriating. 

How many times do you have to repeat that you can’t do it before they start to believe you?

Jimin, who was stressed before the meeting is now dejected and it almost breaks your heart because you feel responsible. You send him home earlier and decide to work on your own. Two hours later you leave the lab with Orchid oil all over your bag and the urge to cry.

There is only one way to make you feel better. You feel ashamed, like you’re addicted to something but you have to admit it.

Jeon Jungkook’s scent is the only thing worth smelling.

When you come back from work, there is no trace of him. His backpack is gone, the bed looks neat, and even the towel he probably didn’t use is dry. There’s still his smell, fresh in the air and it makes you run back outside to find the bridge where you had found him the night before.

He is not there.

You were exhausted, but you’re suddenly on fire. This situation is stressing you more than it should be when you don’t see him. It’s like you won’t ever see him again. You look around all the bridges you can find close to your place. Jungkook is nowhere to be seen.

You open the door of your apartment with a heavy heart. It’s like you lost something precious and it’s making you angry. What the hell is happening to you?

But you open the door and it hits again, like a whirlpool of long lost feelings and dried memories.

Jeon Jungkook is in your living-room, and his delectable scent pounds in the deepest zones of your brain. He is sitting on the floor by the small table, right hand dancing over bright white paper and guitar on his lap so you only see his back, but it’s the biggest relief you had in years.

He doesn’t turn around when you let your bag fall on the floor, he doesn’t move when you stop next to him. He looks absorbed, entranced. His knee is shaking to an unknown beat, mimicking his left hand which is drumming on the soft brown wood of the instrument he is holding.

“God. I thought- I’m so stupid.” You don’t want to share your worries with him, but the thought of him throwing himself off a bridge is still fresh. It stings more than it should, more than the pain you’re supposed to feel when confronted with a stranger’s despair.

“Hmm?” Jungkook doesn’t move toward you at first, but eventually his hand stops, and he glances up at your pallid features and tensed body “What’s wrong?”

“I came back home and you were not here. I thought...I thought you did something stupid.” You let your body fall on the couch. It’s like blood is circulating again into your veins, your skin going back its initial colour. 

Jungkook is puzzled, like he doesn’t understand why it would be so dramatic for you. “I went around town after I grabbed some stuff from my place.” It’s crazy but he feels sorry for you. “I’m sorry for worrying you” he trails off, scanning your face some more. He has no idea how to react to a stranger panicking over his disappearance. His own family doesn’t panic when he doesn’t show up. He is lost as to why you would be so affected by anything related to him when no one else barely does.

You snort, not mad at him. You’re high on his smell and it’s all that counts. “It’s okay.” Your eyes find his, and his tilted head looks like it’s searching for any sign of discomfort. He only stares back, with eyes way too shiny for someone as dark as him. He looks candid, like he has everything to discover and it’s a mystery how he turned out thinking about the worst.  You have no idea what he might be thinking - excepted that you’re probably out of your mind for reacting like this but he doesn’t question your intentions, for whatever reasons. You finally notice the papers and decide to move on before it gets too disturbing to deal with. “What are you doing?” you nod toward the torn pieces of paper and point a finger at the pile stacking up next to his crossed legs.

He swiftly puts it under his leg. “Nothing. Did you just come back from work?” He tries to change the subject. His voice gets higher and you instantly decipher his anxiety. He isn’t good with facing his own problems and it’s way too early to go into deep talks about lyrics and melodies. He might have agreed to a crazy proposition, but that doesn’t mean he is going to open to you. At least not now.

“I looked for you all over the place.” You admit because it’s a normal thing to do when somebody is in distress. Jungkook is dumbfounded.

“Why would you do this?” The situation in itself is already crazy enough as it is. He doesn’t mind you being friendly with him, even though he is pretty sure he doesn’t need it, but to the point of being dead worried for him?

“You were about to throw yourself off a bridge. I don’t know what kind of life you’ve been living but it’s pretty normal to freak out when something like that happens.” Your outburst shocks him. He doesn’t understand the impact of his actions over his surroundings. He has always thought he was just a detail in everyone else’s lives. 

It has always been this way. He writes in the shadow for people to shine. Him not being here shouldn’t matter to anyone. 

“It’s my business. I’m staying here because I have nothing left and it’s easier than staying in my empty apartment and facing my failures. It doesn’t mean we have to care about each other.” Jungkook doesn’t want to sound mean but he has to make it clear to you. His distress is by no mean a way to ask for anyone’s pity. He refused to add anyone into that mess, let alone a stranger.

It’s obvious, in a way. You know it’s stupid but this scent, it’s making you go wild. You can’t let it pass until you know what it is.

So you agree, taking the same tone and hoping your voice isn’t wavering. “I’m not here for you, I’m worried about another human being wanting to end his life. If it gives you the illusion that I care, I’m sorry about that.” You get up and you sound mad, something Jungkook notices as soon as you close the door a bit too violently.

No matter how mesmerising his scent is, he is apparently not that friendly. You’re not hurt by his words, because you don’t care enough personally to be affected. You’re being selfish, only thinking about your own benefit and what his scent could bring into your life. Jeon Jungkook himself doesn’t pull you in at all. He is someone you barely know anyways.

He doesn’t move from his spot in the living-room until later that night. He suddenly has too many things to write and too little time on his hands. He decides to stop when his wrist starts to hurt and his body hits the mattress of his new bedroom like a bag of sand hits the ground.

He feels at ease in the small room. Wood is covering the floor, and it is the same colour as the tiny office by the window. The view is peaceful, with buildings popping up from the floor like mushrooms and lights festooning the city in tiny dots. The bed is large and thick with soft bedding. The scent of the washing powder turns Jungkook into a nostalgic boy when he rolls into the bed, stretching his sore limbs. He feels even more stupid for feeling comfort in a seemingly empty room. 

He falls asleep right away, exactly 10 seconds after you do. You’re both too exhausted to care about each other, but you both know you’re no strangers to your own common serenity.

And just like you understand the importance of his presence for your brain to function, he notices he needs your place to exist in his creative yet tortured mind. As stupid and as hard to believe as it is.

When you get up the day after, you see him by the kitchen’s table. He is sipping on orange juice that is not yours, and munching on toasts you definitely didn’t buy.

You go to the coffee machine, your head too cloudy to deal with his strong presence.

He speaks first “Want some juice?”. He is trying to make it up to you for his cold behaviour. He just isn’t used to being around you yet. He isn’t used being around anyone yet.

Also, he is the worst when he composes. He needs absolute concentration.

You sip on the hot liquid and nod his way. He hands you a glass with an unreadable face.

“Have a nice day.” He doesn’t know why he says it. He tries to be nice, because there’s nothing much to say to someone you met two days ago. Maybe his pride spoke for him yesterday, or maybe he decided to accept the hand of a stranger, because it’s less burdening than accepting his failures to his entourage. 

You drink the fresh juice fast and walk away. “Thank you.” It is too hard to be rational right now, because the smell seems even stronger now. You probably come off as rude when you don’t reciprocate his words but you don’t dwell on it; that boy isn’t going to accept any sort of compassion anyways.

You enter the bathroom and get hit by the scent of his shower gel. Not that scent either.

You get ready at the same time as you build your resolve. Motivation is the key so maybe if you believe in you and your assistant, things might work out. Jimin is already here when you arrive, his citrus smell filling you from the first floor to the lab. He is joyful, like he found something awesome.

“Boss! Have a sit, come come!” His thin hand adds a tiny pressure to your back, leading you to your office.

“What’s happening?” You barely have the time to comprehend; he is already putting a sample in front of your noise.

You freeze.

“Wh-where did you find t- t- this ?” You utter, immediately thrown off by the odour.

“I was looking through essences this morning, and I thought we could start with a base, just to see what we could make of it. It’s...”

“Winter fir and Balsam*.” You conclude. Everything in this base is satisfying but the most important detail is that you remember this base. You smelled it this morning when you entered the kitchen.

You smell the very distinct feelings of comfort, warmth and softness which invades you whenever you’re close to Jungkook.

Jimin added a little twist to it, tho. “You added Cottage Herb Garden**”. The latter grins at you, visibly proud of himself for coming up with such a smart idea. He too gives off that feeling of freshness that is found in that herb. It is serene and woody and gives off feelings of sweetness and sensuality. Cottage Herb Garden fragrances are made using Aldehydes synthetic scents. 

“I didn’t add much, but I thought it would go well because they both make great seasonal fragrances. I only put 8% though, how did you find out?” he looks shocked but not surprised, like he was half-expecting you to guess it yet still thought it would go unnoticed.

“The herb comes last. The earthy smell that lingers in your nose, it’s this one. Smell it again.” You tell him and he takes his time filling his nose. He closes his eyes and thinks for a moment before opening them again.

“This is Cottage Herb Garden.” You confirm and his mouth is now wide opened. He can’t believe he is working with such a talented person. 

“So, do you think we could try? I feel like we’re using a lot of Aldehydes but at the same time it feels like a soft base note…” Jimin trails off, his fingers playing with the bottles. 

You acquiesce, mind already elsewhere. It feels like the first step to Jungkook’s identity and it is energising. You take a sharp breath, startling Jimin who laughs at you because it’s like you found life again. 

“You sound satisfied.” He offers the sample along with a genuine smile and for the first time, you smile back at him, thankful.

“You did great. I wonder why they hired me when you’re doing great on your own.” It’s true. Jimin came up with extremely complex scents and came up with a base note you would have never found on your own.

Jimin rolls his eyes and decides not to answer. If only he could have a quarter of your talent. He opens his notebook and starts writing, his eyes now shiny with glee

Base notes:  Aldehydes (Synthetic) = Winter Fir  /  Cottage Herb Garden.

You put the sample in front of you and stare at it. So that was it. You smile to yourself, in a way, it’s like you can almost smell Jungkook.

You spent the rest of your day looking for another element to add to your base and when nothing comes to your mind you feel frustrated, but it’s the best you can do for now. Jimin is exhausted and snoring in a corner of the lab, his petite body squeezed between two cabinets. You shake him to wake his sleepy body and tell him to go home when you give up for the day.

It’s been so long since the last time Jungkook felt this satisfied. He didn’t go out, too engrossed into his lyrics to care about the light of the sun peeking through the opened blinds. It’s leaking off his pen, like he can’t stop the flood of ideas and he feels like a mad scientist, crazy and ecstatic. He takes a break around dinner time and when his stomach starts creating its own music.

He takes out noodles from the food he bought the day before. Living with you meant sharing a flat, but he wanted to provide his own necessities. Participating in daily life matters is only natural, after all.

His phone rings, and the caller ID makes him sigh. He is too hungry to face what is about to come, and his spent brain is screaming for rest.

He coughs, keeping his voice steady “Yes.” His tone is disillusioned. Jungkook barely gets any call nowadays, and except from work, he only knows one person who can annoy the hell out of him so much.

“You remember me? I thought depression AND amnesia hit you at once.” He wants to hang up when he hears the throaty voice. It’s heavy with judgement but then again, when is it not?

“And you wonder why I don’t call you, Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook finishes the sentence in a sigh. Yoongi is awesome at being a nagging mother.

“You’re too busy being away I guess. Artists are such a handful.” He hears steps and after a while, Yoongi speaks again. “Where are you? I’ve been waiting in front of your flat.”

“I moved out.” Jungkook looks fine with the revelation. It’s like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“What? Where? Why didn’t you tell me?” he hears Yoongi’s car and supposes the latter is already going back to his place. 

“It’s been two days. I’m living with a girl.” He blows hair on the steaming bowl of noodles, ignoring his friend’s deep shriek.

Yoongi doesn’t know what’s happening anymore. Jungkook leaving on an inspiration crusade is common, it’s something he does whenever he gets overwhelmed by his feelings. Never once did he actually move out to live with someone else, let alone a girl.

He doesn’t even remember when was the last time Jungkook even dated someone. “Living together as in...romantically?” he tries, suddenly wary because he expected a lot of answers, but not this one.

“I couldn’t write anymore. I’m renting a room in her apartment.” He swallows the food like he has been starving for days. There is not the slightest hint of discomfort in his voice.

Yoongi laughs after a while “You’re living with your landlord. God, Jungkook, I know you people need some sort of inspiration to exist, but to the point of living with some old lady for the sake of music...”

“She’s not old.” Jungkook has no idea why it’s the only part of the sentence he reacted to, but all of a sudden he doesn’t want anyone to make fun of the person who took him in, not when he wrote ten songs in the span of two days. Not when he feels like no one can hurt him in your quiet kitchen.

“Anyways. Lunch with me tomorrow, how does that sound? Shall I check on that woman you’re living with ? How much is she charging you ? Aren’t you being scammed?”

“I can’t.” Jungkook sighs, ignoring the numerous questions because this is so typical of Yoongi to make sure no one is messing with him. “I have to eat with my parents, don’t tell them that I moved out.”

“You have always been doing everything you wanted anyways, what would it change if he was to know?”

Because he is going to crush me down like fine dust.

It has always been the same, and no matter how successful he was at some point, his father was never satisfied. Not when music is not a certain source of income, not when reputation comes before everything else.

 “I’m hanging up.” He announces once panic overtakes him and hears his friend objects, telling him he will meet with him no matter what.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to see him. It’s just complicated. Jungkook has always been different from others. He was raised with Yoongi and they had the same nanny when they were young. The age difference rapidly made Yoongi turn into the older brother as time passed, and while he was the one introducing Jungkook to music making, he quickly stopped to take over his family’s business. He never explained to him how he drifted from music, but he is now all about business.  Their respective parents were and still are too busy to deal with education, and while Yoongi grew up like the sharks his father works with, he took after a quieter side, the one that tells him to do what he wants instead of chasing money.

Yoongi often tells him he is a fool, that he doesn’t need anything else if he can have a bright future with his father’s company. He often answers that he doesn’t want to work without a purpose, and Yoongi always tells him to stop being a hypocrite and rely on his father’s money if he was to spit on it.

It’s true, Jungkook doesn’t know struggling. He was born in a rich family with a lot of possibilities. He was able to become a lyricist after a lot of failures, and his parents never gave up on him financially. This is probably why he is so affected when he can’t write. He doesn’t know how to deal with difficulties, he who lived with all the good things of the world.

He hears the door opening and your sore body appears before him, surprised to see him home. It’s like you were expecting him to run away, again. You don’t speak when you see him, mouth full of noodles and wearing the same clothes you left him in this morning. The silence is thick, oxygen heavy with uneasiness. Jungkook blinks, slurping on the noodles before wiping his mouth hastily.

“Want some noodles?” It’s hard to catch on the words, but he moves the bowl in front of him, and you understand. 

You nod.

No matter how strong the smell of seafood is, his scent always wins over everything else. You decide to stay close because you’re slowly deciphering his smell, and you need more time to know where you’re going.

He goes to the cupboard like he has been living here for years and fills another bowl before sitting back. You’re surprised by his sudden gentleness but brush the worries off. You’re supposed to feel weirded by the fact that an unknown man is now living with you, but none of you are freaked out.

Jungkook is too happy to be productive again. You’re too drawn into your memories to stop everything.

You sit in front of him and after a couple of minutes, he speaks. It takes you out of the now soggy food.

“What’s your job?” Jungkook sounds interested, but you know he is only trying to ease the mood.

“I’m a perfume composer.” You decide not to dig further into the matter. It’s a peculiar world, something that only a few people can relate to. Most people think you mix synthetic molecules into expensive glass bottles, wrapped in glitters and hidden into luxury boxes with frills and furbelows.

And you get offended, knowing fully well that it’s exactly what you think you’re doing.

Jungkook doesn’t sound impressed, you’re not surprised by that. 

“Sounds complex.” It is. It truly is, and even more when he is entering your every pore. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it.

“It’s not.” you lie, “How about you?” His face lits subtly, and he seems shy all of a sudden. You don’t know this side of him yet, and you wonder where his emo behaviour went.

He coughs, putting the bowl down. “I’m a lyricist. I write lyrics and sometimes I compose, but I mostly write.”

 “That sounds complex.” You muse. Jungkook is a tormented artist, then. It explains why he keeps on dreaming on bridges like he is filming a music video.

“Sometimes it’s complex, sometimes it’s a matter of course. I’ve been having a blackout recently.” It’s a confession, and he doesn’t know why he is sharing such a deep problem with you, a stranger.

You forget about the food “That’s why you were surrounded by torn papers.”

He chuckles. “Exactly. I’m getting there, though.”

It feels different to deal with such an open Jungkook. He chats like you’re close, smiles sometimes, he is almost glowing.

That evening you learn that he uses a pen name to write lyrics. He doesn’t want to tell you, but you know too little about the music industry and he finally spills the beans.

JK.

It sounds like some mysterious pen name used by thriller writers but you don’t tell him that. Instead, you decide to go to bed. No matter how comfortable you both seem, you’re not ready to share the part about you being addicted to his scent. He goes to his spot near the small table in your living-room and his hand goes back to a wild dance, covering the blank paper with ink. He is inspired.

He goes to bed right when you get up the day after and wakes up late for his lunch with his parents.

It’s not like he is eager to meet with them.

_

Plants. Plants plants plants. You look through the samples with haste. You know it has something to do with nature. The base note has to be about something else.

“What are you doing?” You smell Jimin the minute he opens the door, but you don’t let yourself be interrupted. You know you sound like a stalker, but you might or might not have smelled Jungkook’s jacket this morning, and you are sure of a thing: there is only one element left to create a frank base.

You don’t know when you switched from creating a perfume to reproduce his scent, but it doesn’t matter.

“All the samples are here, right?” The organ is huge and cabinets full, but it’s not enough for you. Jimin throws his vest on one of the chairs and approaches you, stifling a yawn.

“Yes. I think that’s quite a lot, actually.” He peeks from behind your shoulder, and sees your hands going through the numerous bottles, unsatisfied.

“No. No. These are generic scents. You don’t have any rare roots names, you forgot a lot of exotic fruits and most importantly, you don’t have anything uncommon.” 

Jimin makes a face. He is not lost, he is adrift. “I’m afraid I don’t understand...”

“Tobacco abs, myrrh, resinoid, Balkans...” You talk but it sounds like a whole new language even for your assistant.

“Well, we have listed a lot of names. Most of them were used by previous composers, but we added more. I didn’t think it needed that much to be completed.” He knows about perfumes, he has a lot of knowledge, but you’re suddenly on a whole new level and can’t be reached.

You’re suddenly talking about tobacco odours and it freaks him out.

“I have a lot of these at home.” This could seriously help you. You barely use these, and most of them were sent by your father and collected on the internet. It’s the first time you can actually put them to good use because you know they could help, but you can’t bring them here.

Also, you think about how much easier it would be to just move work to an environment bathed by that scent which makes you crazy. How stimulating would it be ?

Jimin is expectant, but you don’t say more. He finally waves a worried hand in front of your face and you snap to meet his blinking eyelids.

“Let’s work from my place. This is what I often did.” Your offer makes him take a step back. He is not used to you being so devoted to this project.

“Are you sure? I don’t think the boss would object. We’ve had a few composers with weird demands before.” He doesn’t know what’s on your mind, but you’re a genius to his eyes and the mere idea of him seeing the place where you created such amazing products is electrifying. He can’t wait to know more about your ways.

“Good.” You glance around the room, “I don’t like this atmosphere.” You don’t mind if Jimin sees your place. At some point, you’re pretty much sure you could go with anything as long as you find the missing pieces of this conundrum. 

You’re aware that you’re turning into an obsessional mess, but it feels pleasant to have a goal. This goes beyond everything you experienced, it gives you a fuel you didn’t know you could have.

You take the day to gather some samples and ask Jimin to let the boss know about your change of plans. At the end of the day, he helps you carry the numerous samples home. You’re a happy mind, torn between apprehension and excitement.

You open the door and Jungkook sees two huge boxes enter the living-room. He is rubbing a towel against his wet hair but he catches your box before you can let it crash to the ground. Jimin lets his own fall with a soft thud and you’re startled when you hear a dismayed squeal, along with Jimin’s shocked face, his finger pointing at a puzzled Jungkook.

“JK?!”

-------

* Winter Fir and Balsam : This redolent mixture of refreshing natural pine mingled with a sweet, peppery, delicately refined and soft base note of balsam has a soothing and warm character. It evokes particular feelings of warmth and comfort. The mind’s eye (and nose) recalls Christmas trees and sleigh rides and happy times by a fireside or even in a small apartment among special friends or family.

** Cottage Herb Garden : Sparkling blue waters, gentle summer winds and cozy brick cottages nestled in the lush, serene English countryside characterised this green floral scent. Enticing notes of sweet, earthy, star anise, fresh basil, grassy parsley, aromatic wild flowers, fresh garden greens and a woodsy, sensual musk base note comprise this complex aroma.