#indian wedding dresses have always interested me

[aychama]

Oooh I have an idea I want to draw so bad oooh my god

[sensoryseekinganakin]

if u have any and would like to share, i'd love to hear ur indian obi-wan headcanons!! :D

Sorry, this took a little bit to answer because I wasn't sure what else to say, hahaha.

The head wobble just gets to me. It's such a cute mannerism, wherever he picked it up. It feels so bland to me to just make Obi-Wan space Scottish, there are more creative things that could be done (in my opinion). Star Wars is set in the fictional past in space, so the character's cultures don't have to be based on the actors' ethnicities from real life. I want to hear Obi-Wan speak Tamil or Hindi. I would LOVE to see the obikin Desi bridal wear thing you mentioned in the tags of your post!!

And there is a lot of other Indian/South Asian inspiration in Star Wars already. The names of Shaak'ti and Ahsoka. Also Padmé's family and other people from Naboo. Sheev/Shiv, Padmé/Padma, and Padmé's niece's name is Pooja, which is just a real name from real life.

There are so many varied Indian cultures that Naboo and Stewjon could easily both be India. I have always loved the idea of Leia being Indian too, from Padmé's side, and I know her parents would have helped her keep in touch with that culture. That also makes her interactions with Obi-Wan so much more interesting!! I can't remember what discord server it was in a couple months ago that people were discussing Leia and Han having a Desi wedding and making up outfits for her based on her canon wedding dress, but I want to see that so bad too. That dress/outfit would translate so beautifully into that style.

[music-is-love-90]

A/N: Hi! I'm not dead!

Yeah, life got hard there for a bit, but I have not abandoned you. I'm not promising regular updates just yet, but I am writing again and hope to get back up and running. Hope you like this slightly shorter chapter, but it gets us to where we're going!

Ch. 29:

Preparations took on a frantic speed as Edwina and Lord Morrison’s wedding approached.  Kate was dragged into meetings at the palace and trips to the modiste as her sister’s wedding began to almost take on a life of its own.

The only bright spot was the ring she now openly wore on her finger.  She would find herself staring at it, completely enraptured by the way the light played across the stones.  She often had to force herself to look away as the ring Anthony’s father had given his mother caught her in its spell.  Once, Mary had caught her in a moment of enrapture and had burst into tears, alarming Kate greatly until she calmed enough to explain that she was just so happy for her eldest daughter that she almost couldn’t stand it. 

It had taken ages for both of them to calm down.

Kate sighed as she snuck out of the parlor where an intense conversation about flowers was taking place and she found herself in the peaceful silence of the gardens.  One more minute in that room and she would have started screaming.

“Once we’re done with this spectacle, it will be your turn.”

She turned to find Lady Danbury had followed her out.

“Yes, but mine will not include opinions from the Queen of England, which is a fact I am eternally grateful for,” She told the older woman with a smirk.

“I think you’re underestimating Her Majesty’s interest in the Bridgerton family,” Lady Danbury cautioned her.  “But her opinions will most likely be more subtle at least.”

She linked her arm with Kate’s, and they headed down the path.

“Have you found a dress maker yet?” she asked the younger woman and she shook her head with a sigh.

At Anthony’s urging, Kate had begun considering what parts of the Indian traditions she had grown up with to incorporate into an English ceremony and she had decided she wanted to wear a sari.  She hoped to commission one that would resemble the one her Amma had worn at her wedding and Kate had been forced to sell to help fund their trip to England, but finding a dressmaker in London that could handle such an order had proved difficult.

“Well, we have time,” the matron assured her.  “In the meantime, we need to speak of your sister.”

It took all of Kate’s self-control to only sigh and not groan.

“We cannot allow it to seem like you two are at odds,” Lady Danbury continued, ignoring Kate’s sigh.  “Your sister’s refusal to speak to your fiancé lends itself to rumor and inuendo.”

“I do not know what you expect me to do.” Kate replied, annoyance creeping into her voice.  “Clearly Edwina no longer cares for my counsel.”

“Be that as it may, this wedding must go off without a hitch.  The Queen has been quite forgiving with your mama, but I would not trust in her largesse a second time.”

Kate nodded and they continued their walk in silence for a time.

“How go your lessons with Lady Bridgerton?” Lady Danbury inquired and Kate smiled brightly.

Violet, as she insisted on being called, had invited her for tea several times now to begin teaching her the duties she would need to perform when she took her place as Lady Bridgeton at Anthony’s side.

Lady Bridgerton.  She would be Anthony’s wife in just a few short months.

She couldn’t help the smile that always broke across her face when the thought crossed her mind, but she quickly schooled her features this time as Lady Danbury raised her eyebrow.

“Well,” she replied, “there is much I need to learn, but Lady Bridgerton is an excellent teacher.  I am sure she will bring me up to snuff.”

“I have absolute faith that you will do very well in your new role,” the matron told her confidently.  “I have scarcely seen a woman more well suited to the role of Viscountess, even amongst the Ton who should be raised to handle it.”

Kate blushed at Lady Danbury’s praise and they fell once more into companiable silence.

“Kate!”

This time she did groan as she stopped to wait for her sister and Lord Morrison caught up with them.

“Kate, the Earl is taking us to a play tonight!” her sister announced as they joined the two women.  “Isn’t that lovely?”

“It is, Bon,” Kate replied with forced patience.  “Unfortunately, I will not be able to join you.  I am already promised at Hastings House tonight for dinner.”

“Surely the Brigertons can spare you for one evening?” Edwina said, annoyance clear in her voice. 

“One should keep one’s engagements as often as they can.” Lady Danbury interjected blandly.  “And Her Grace is not known for her patience in being snubbed.  Your sister is doing the proper thing to ensure her future familial harmony.”

“My sister is always quite proper,” Edwina said in the same tone, making Kate glare at her, which she ignored.  “Very well.  Enjoy your dinner, Didi.”

She and Morrison continued on and Lady Danbury linked her arm with Kate’s once more.

“One more week,” she told her under her breath, “and then it is your turn.”

Kate signed and nodded, letting her lead her down the path once more.

~.~

Kate was genuinely surprised when Edwina agreed to her mother's suggestion that the three of them hold a Haldi ceremony the night before the wedding.  Her sister had seemed so utterly uninterested in including any of her father's Indian heritage that her easy acceptance was shocking, but Kate chose to capitalize on her acquiescence and quickly gathered the supplies they would need.

For a while, it was as if nothing had changed between the two sisters as they went through the ritual.  They laughed and joked and teased just like they had when they were children in Bombay and for the first time in months, Kate felt like her sister was truly her sister again.

There was a lull in the conversation as Mary and Kate spread the turmeric paste across Edwina's arms.

"Are you happy, Bon?" Kate found herself asking softly.

"Of course, I am, Didi!" her sister responded instantly.  "I am going to be a countess!"

"But do you love Lord Morrison?" her sister pressed.  "Does he love you?"

"He is marrying me, knowing I have no dowry, Kate," Edwina said, annoyance creeping into her voice.  "Surely this means he esteems me.  All will be well."

Kate nodded, backing off.  Anthony didn't want anyone to know where Edwina's dowry came from, fearing how it would look before they were married.  Edwina would know after the wedding and everything would be fine again.  She would have her wish to marry as she thought a Diamond should, and she would be happy.

Kate had to hold to that hope.

"How did you know you Appa, mama?" Edwina asked suddenly, surprising Mary.

"I suppose I knew when I saw the way he looked at me," she replied slowly, both girls listening to her with rapt attention.  "But it was more how the world went quiet when I was with him.  The way his soul seemed to dance with mine, the way we settled into each other until there was no place to hide, nor any desire to do so.  It was the moment I realized I was willing to give up everything just to stay with him, that was when I knew."

Kate couldn't help but think of Anthony, of the way the world went quiet during their stolen moments in the woods, when he simply held her in his arms.  The way dancing with him was as easy as breathing.  She had abandoned every plan for the future she had ever made for him, knowing that the life she would have with him would be far greater than any she had ever dreamed of alone. 

She realized she had stopped coating her sister as her mind had wandered and she shook herself, glancing at her sister to find her deep in thought.

"Bon?"

Edwina started and seemed to give herself a shake.

"That is just how I feel with Lord Morrison," she told them brightly.  "I think I am to be very happy with him."

Kate decided to let that go.

~.~

The morning of the wedding dawned bright and chaotic.  As Kate came to consciousness, she could hear the dulcet tones of her sister, yelling on the other side of the house, and she fought the urge to burrow into her blankets and refuse to come out.

It was going to be a long day.

There was a knock at the door and Kate lifted the blanket off her head with a groan before calling for her maid to enter.

“This arrived for you this morning, Miss.”

The young girl set a large bouquet of orange and pink tulips on the table and Kate crawled out of bet to pluck the note out as the girl began readying the room for the day.

Next time, it will be our turn. I’ll see you in a few hours. A. Bridgerton

Kate smiled and set the note next to her bed.

“Kate, are you still abed?!”

Kate looked up at her sister, who was glaring at her from the doorway. 

“We will be leaving for the palace shortly and you’re still not ready!” her sister shouted, making Kate wince.

“I was just admiring my flowers, Bon,” she told her soothingly.  “I will be ready shortly, don’t worry.”

Edwina glanced at the flowers with a sniff before striding out of the room.  A moment later, Mary took her place.

“This is going to be one of those days where everyone accosts me in my room before I can even dress, isn’t it?” Kate asked dryly.

“You should be used to it by now.” Mary shot back, but her smile took the sting out of her words.  “We are running behind, though, so do make haste.”

“Yes, mama.” Kate agreed easily.  “I will be ready as fast as I can be.”

Mary left and Kate quickly began getting ready.  Within the hour, the bridal party was packed up and on their way to the palace where they final preparations for the day would take place.  When they arrived, they were quickly bundled off to the rooms that would be theirs for the day and introduced to the veritable army of servants who would be helping them.  Lady Danbury was quickly called to the Queen’s side and the Sharma women worked to dress and primp Edwina.

As Mary helped Edwina slip on her dress, Kate routed around in the various chests they had brought with them, looking for a specific item.  She finally located it as Edwina wandered over to her side of the room.

“Didi, what are those?” she asked, looking over Kate’s shoulder at the bangles in her hands.  “I don’t think I’ve seen those before.”

“They were my mother’s,” Kate told her.  “I brought them with us from home.  I had faith that this Season would be a success.”

“They are very beautiful,” Edwina said shortly.  “I’m sure they’ll look lovely at your wedding.”

Kate sighed and stood up, turning to take her sister’s hands in hers.

“I want you to wear them.”

Edwina stared at her.

“I know things have been…difficult between us lately,” Kate continued.  “but you are my sister and I love you and all I have wanted was for you to be happy.  If you believe this is the path that will lead you to your greatest happy than I will celebrate it as a blessing, just as I hope you will do the same for me.  So,” she pressed the bangles into her hands, “wear these as a sign of my blessing and know that I wish you every happiness in the world.”

Edwina stared at the bracelets, her eyes bright.

“I know you only want what’s best for me, Kate,” she said softly.  “I couldn’t ask for a better sister…” she shook her head, “but these were your Amma’s.  You should wear them.”  She pressed the bangles back into Kate’s hands.  “I know the Earl is not the one you would have picked for me, but I am glad you can put that aside and try to be happy for me.”

Kate wrapped her sister in a hug.

“All I have ever cared about is your happiness, Bon,” she whispered.  “That is all I have ever wanted.”

Edwina pulled away, taking Kate’s hand and slipping the bangles onto her wrist.

“I am happy, Didi,” she told her.  “I am marrying an Earl and I will be a countess.  What reason would I ever have to be unhappy?”

With a bright smile, Edwina turned away to continue her preparations and Kate sighed, playing with the bracelet on her wrist.  Finally, she turned back to her own preparations, sending out a small prayer that all would be as her sister believed and not as her gut told her it would be.

~.~

Anthony came down the stairs at Bridgerton House to find utter chaos.  He grabbed the back of Gregory’s coat as he ran past and plucked Hyacinth’s ribbon out of his hand.

“I was doing her a service,” his youngest brother grumbled as Hyacinth took the ribbon back from Anthony and stuck her tongue out at Gregory.

“Please try to remember that we have spent a considerable amount of time teaching you how to behave as upstanding members of this family, at least in public,” he told them with a sigh, releasing Gregory.

His two youngest siblings nodded solemnly for a second before Hyacinth kicked Gregory in the shin and they were off again.

“It’s adorable you thought that would work,” Daphne said, reaching up to press a kiss to Anthony’s cheek.  “Best to just them run themselves out and pray that they mature a little bit in the months we have left before your wedding to Kate.”

“That’s not encouraging, sister dear,” he said, returning her kiss.  “Where is your lout of a husband?  Kate will be annoyed if we’re not all there to support Miss Edwina.”

“He is already attending Lady Danbury,” she replied.  “He’s promised to check on Kate and will join us at the chapel.”  She was distracted by a moan from Colin, who was laying on a bench as Benedict grinned at him.  “What is wrong with him?”

“I do not care as long as Benedict undoes it.” Violet said as she joined them.  “This day is important to your future sister and you will behave.”

The last part was said at an increased volume that made Colin moan again and Benedict attempt and fail to look contrite.

“Yes, mother.” Her sons agreed easily.

She purposely turned away as her second born handed her third born a flask.

“How is Kate?” she asked, addressing her first born.

“Well, as far as I know.” He replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek in thanks. 

“It will be your turn next,” she told him, straightening his tie with misty eyes.  “Kathani will be such a lovely bride.”

“I quite agree,” he said, taking her hands in his and lowering them away from his neck.  “Though I know we both desire a…less ostentatious event when it is our turn.”

“A simple wedding in Kent,” his mother agreed easily.  “Well, as simple as the wedding of a Viscount from his ancestral seat to a woman who shares blood with a Maharaja can be.”

“So, not simple at all?” Benedict quipped, taking his flask back from Colin.  “Given that Queen with definitely be in attendance?”

His mother reached behind herself to swat at him.

“We’ll discuss the plans and see what we can do as soon as Miss Edwina is happily married.” She assured her eldest.  “Now, we should go.  I’m sure Kate would like you nearby.”

Daphne, Benedict, and Colin all snickered at their mother’s carefully bland face and Anthony glared at all of them.

“I am disinheriting all of you.”

His siblings just ignored him.

~.~

Kate snuck out of the dressing room and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and leaning against the wall.

“Yours will probably be worse, you know.”

She cracked an eye open to glare at Simon.

“I am considering dragging Anthony to Gretna Green just to avoid it,” she told him crossly.

“I do not think it would take much to convince him,” he told her, leaning against the wall next to her.  “But I believe your mama, my saintly godmother, and my current, your future, mother-in-law would ban together to murder you both, which would, in turn, upset my wife.”

“God-forbid.” Kate said dryly.

“Exactly,” Simon agreed with a laugh.  “So, for the sake of our family, I implore you to grin and bare what ever they throw at you.”

“Fine,” she huffed, fighting off a smile of her own.  “Speaking of, where is your lovely wife?”

“She’s coming with the rest of the clan,” he replied.  “I have arrived early to lend my support to Lady Danbury.”

“And yet you are here with me, hiding in a side corridor,” she teased.  “Hiding from the Queen, are we?”

“Oh, indubitably.” He agreed easily.  “I think she is still slightly miffed that I married Daphne, stealing her away from her royal nephew.”

“I wish I had been here last Season.  It sounds like it was fascinating.”

“I am very glad you weren’t,” Simon replied seriously.  “I did not behave as a gentleman should and I would rather have your respect.”

“You have it,” she assured him with a soft smile.  “I am quite looking forward to calling you brother.”

“And I calling you sister.” He cleared his throat.  “How is your sister?”

“Perfectly content to be standing in the light and excited to be the next Countess Morrison,” Kate replied with a sigh.

“You still disapprove?”

Kate shrugged.

“My opinion does not matter, which has been made clear to me.  She believes this is the path that will bring her the most happiness, so I must trust her judgment.”

“You can’t protect her forever.”

She smiled sadly.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I want to.”

“You and Anthony really are perfect for each other.”  Kate laughed and he reached out to squeeze her arm.  “You are a good sister, Kate.  I don’t have any practical experience with siblings, but I have spent enough time around Anthony to know what a good one looks like.  You are a good one.”

Kate smiled up at him, her eyes bright.

“Thank you, Simon.”

The Duke squeezed her arm once more before letting go.

“There you are.” They both turned to find Lady Danbury striding towards them.  “Miss Edwina is demanding your presence, Miss Sharma, so make haste.  And you, good sir, will come with me to distract Her Majesty.”

“Of course, my Lady.” Simon replied dryly, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“You are lucky I adore your son, Your Grace.” She told him, refusing to be mollified.  “Get on your way.  I will follow shortly.”

Simon bowed to the ladies and took his leave.  Lady Danbury took a moment to look over Kate critically before allowing her face to soften.

“Have courage, Miss Sharma,” she told Kate softly.  “Just a few more hours and you will be free.”

With that, she turned and left Kate alone, wondering if she was referring to freedom from her wedding duties or freedom from Edwina.

~.~

Kate spotted some of the Bridgertons on the grounds from the window of Edwina’s dressing room and wished she could join them, but Edwina was ready and all there was to wait for the service to begin.

“Kate.”

She turned to see her sister holding her veil out to her.  On her head sat the Morrison Family coronet and Kate took the veil to attach to it as Edwina turned around.

“Are you ready, my darling?”

They two sisters turned to see Mary in the doorway.

“You look so lovely, Edwina,” she told her tearily.  “You both do.”

She spotted Kate’s bangles and her smile grew brighter.  “I hope you plan on wearing those at your wedding in a few months.  I’m sure your Amma would be just as happy for you as I am.”

“Is everything ready?” Edwina asked her, bring her attention back to her younger daughter.

“It is,” she told her.  “Are you ready?”

“I am.”

She walked over and took Mary’s arm, allowing her to lead her out as Kate followed behind.

“Let’s give the ton a wedding to remember and show them who we truly are.” Mary said, kissing Edwina’s cheek as they reached the chapel doors.

“Let’s,” her daughter agreed.

Kate smiled brightly at her sister as the music began and she began her trek down the aisle.  As she neared the front, she spotted the Bridgertons seated in the first few pews.  Anthony caught her eye, lifting his eyebrow and making her smile brightly.  She let out a small giggle as Benedict elbowed his older brother, making Anthony glare at him as she reached the altar.  She quickly schooled her features, nodding to the Earl, before taking her place.  She caught Anthony’s eye again and he gave her an encouraging smile.

The music changed and the congregation rose as every eye went to the back of the chapel.  Edwina glided down the aisle serenely on her mother’s arm, looking the perfect vision of a happy bride.  Finally, she joined them at the altar and Kate took a deep breath.

“Miss Edwina, you look lovely.” Morrison murmured, making her smile beautifully.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she demurred.  “I am happy you are pleased.”

“Please be seated,” the Archbishop began.  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God…”

Kate let her mind wander as she played with her bangle.  Her gaze moved across the congregation before landing on Anthony and she couldn’t help but imagine what their wedding would be like in a few months.  Would he wear the morning suit traditional to an English lord, or could she convince him to wear a sherwani to match her sari?  Either way, he would be the most handsome groom she had ever seen, she was sure.

Anthony caught her watching him as her fingernail caught in the clasp of one of the bangles and, before she could stop it, the bracelet slipped off her wrist.  She watched in horror and embarrassment as it hit the ground loudly, bouncing down the steps and rolling across the floor until it came to a stop at Anthony’s foot.  The church fell silent as he leaned down to pick it up. 

“I think I shall keep this safe for now, Miss Sharma,” he announced with a wicked smile that made Kate blush before shaking her head fondly.  “Please continue, Archbishop.”

A chuckle ran through the assembled crowd, including a smirk from the Queen, as Anthony’s smile turned soft.

I love you, he mouthed at her, slipping the bangle into his coat to rest above his heart.  Kate returned his sentiment with a soft smile of her own before turning back to the altar.  She was unsurprised to find Morrison glaring at her, but her sister quickly stole her focus.

“Bon?”

Edwina was staring at Anthony, her face paler than Kate had ever seen.  At her call, her eyes snapped to Kate, staring at her as if she had never seen her before.

“Miss Edwina, are you ready to continue?” the Archbishop asked her, but Edwina just kept staring at Kate.

Morrison huffed, taking Edwina’s hand and pulling her to face him.

“Answer His Grace, please, Miss Edwina,” he ordered, but she just stared at him.

“Bon, are you alright?” Kate asked, moving forward as she started to become worried.

“She is perfectly fine,” Morrison answered shortly.  “Miss Edwina, you are embarrassing yourself.  Repeat after the Archbishop.”

“I – “ Edwina broke off, her breathing becoming low and shallow.

“Bon, do you need to sit down?” Kate asked, concern lacing her voice.  She glanced at Anthony and he quickly got to his feet, heading towards her.

The noise of his shoes seemed to startle Edwina, bringing her back to herself.  Her gaze spun around the room before focusing on Morrison.

“I need a moment,” she announced.

And then she ran out of the room.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Your costume metas are amazing and I always look forward to them... and so I wondered if you have any energy left after reviewing 6.11 to consider the background costumes during the coma dream portions. They struck me as very deliberate choices too but I need your help in understanding those choices!

Hey Nonnie

Sorry its taken me an age to get round to answering this ask - Work has been a bit manic and I've not had the time I'd like to spend on getting through my inbox!

The background character costumes were very deliberate choices you're right! They can essentially be broken down into 4 groups - If we think of Buck as the only 'main' character in his coma.

The first group is the Buckley family, so Maddie, Philip and Margaret, Daniel, Doug and Genevieve. The second group is the firefam, so Hen, Chim and Bobby and Christopher. Then the other two groups are the background characters in the hospital, the ones that relate to Bucks memories and then the generic hospital staff and patients.

The Buckley family are al dressed in a very limited colour palette that also divides into two - blue and grey and brown and beige. the Brown and beige is especially interesting and sign posts us to the reality of Bucks real world experiences - because we only see Daniel and Margaret in these colours, Daniel in this instance is obvious - Buck never knew him and therefore never actually had a relationship with him (that he remembers, there was obviously a period of crossover in their lives), whereas putting Margaret in beige is a clear indicator that it is with her the Buck has had a more strained/ non existent relationship with in the past. Whereas some form of better relationship did exist with Philip. This is supported by what we saw in Buck begins - Philip not being the one instigating any arguments etc. Then later on we get all of the Buckleys and Kendalls in various shades of blue, with the exception of Maddie and Daniel - a very interesting and deliberate choice. I wrote in my Meta about the choice to have Maddie in grey, but putting Daniel in grey is also very intentional - it essentially mimics what we get from the script - Daniel is 'greyed out' - a non entity - his existence in this coma world is becoming increasingly irrelevant to Buck - not because he is irrelevant to Buck, but because he is a mirror for how Buck feels he behaved in the real world in relation to Maddie being abused by Doug. its kind of like that concept of not greyed out things not being changeable or accessible in games - it kind of sets up as Maddie being abused and Buck (Daniel in coma land) not being able to change those events or the responses to them - they are a fixed thing and Buck couldn't and wouldn't have been able to change them - fix them - if he was able to go back.

I've already written at length about the fire fam in coma dream land, so I won't rehash it here - you can check out my meta if you haven't already but would like to know more!

Then we get the people inhabiting the hospital. the pastel and white colour palette for the staff and the generic patients is very much meant to be just that - as generic and plain as possible. the use of pastel colouring for most of them is a representation of them being 'washed out' - they are just Bucks subconscious creating 'sims' for his coma world - its the same reason they all follow very deliberate and angled paths - in the same way that sims do within the game when walking around.

The patients not in pastels all connect to various memories from Bucks real world experiences as a firefighter - so we get to see the yoga moms, the lady from the toddler pageant with a shoe in her face, the two women in full Indian dress representing the Indian wedding from s1 etc. I haven't had t he time to go through ad figure out all of the different connections with these patients (it might be a fun summer hiatus project for someone to have a go at doing), but those are the obvious ones and all of the ones identified connect, at least in part to the family/ parent child concept of Bucks coma dream as a whole!

I hope this helps you with understanding the connections with those costume choices - it was fun for me to get to explain/ look at in more detail the background costumes so thanks for the ask!

[fullsunstrawberry]

HEY GIRLLLL I LOVE THE CHAPPPPP

anywayssss

your cat is so cute!! im literally in love <333

also I HAVE DRAMAAA

so im not going to go super im detail because im not even sure what happened but basically for the mehndi "a pre-wedding celebration in Hindu and Sikh culture; during this event, the bride has a red-orange mehndi "stain" applied to her palms" copy and pasted this! but we want all the brides side to wear a variation of blue and the grooms to wear a variation of yellow while the couple wear green but the mother of the bride was like "this fucking indians they can't just let it be simple and such, i still don't understand why (brides name) can't wear white to the indian wedding"

in hindu culture you wear white to funerals!

we are trying our best to try and respect the brides wishes esp because she's never experienced an indian wedding before so my brother was like "oh (almost mlw) we don;t need to do the dress codes we can keep it simple blah blah blah" and she was like "NO SHE NEEDS TO WEAR WHITE AT THE WEDDINGGGG GRRRRRR'

keep in mind we are ALSO having a christan wedding for their side and letting them do whatever with no complaints

i dont know what happened after that but its just so frustrating for our side and the bride too because (future slw) was like "i will wear literally whatever i dont know why my mom is being so difficult"

ANYWAYYY HAVE FUN AT YOUR PARTY YOU DESERVE ITTTT and send photos of the tattoo fr !!!

i love you smmm, make sure to drink water, eat food, and smile :))

Tysm! I only have a few more updates until I'm done with the smau... T^T

Wedding drama is always the craziest drama 😳

Different Wedding culture is interesting! Most of the weddings I've been to have been red neck weddings💀 from my dads side of the family

Mil sounds like a nightmare

The mil is controlling af... It's the bridr and groom who has the final say so idk why she is fighting so hard

The mil sounds low key high key racist

And their having TWO WEDDINGS!! Like why can't she just be happy 💀😭

Honestly so happy that it's not only my graduation because I hate when all the attention is on me!

The party isn't until the beginning of August which is late but it's the only day all my family can come down

And my bff is happy because she is going somewhere and missing everyones party besides mine 🤞

Idk if i posted my tattoo before but it's a matching tattoo with my mom! Got it when I turned 16

And these are the ideas for my new tattoo!

I know I'm getting hoshi’s tiger drawing

But idk if I want the bear (for haechan) ... I was thinking something like it with the words “we on the way up” 😩

I still done know what nct dream tattoo I want ughh

Also I've been drinking lots of water!!

Don't skip a meal!! Love yah <;3

[i-myeoni-blogs]

Remembering Who I am!

How many of us talk about our ancestors' ethnicity? There may be a few people who are still connected to their roots, but the majority of us in generation Z are influenced primarily by western culture and fashion. Though it’s not bad but somehow, we’re losing our own authenticity. 

I am no exception; having been born and raised in a town, I shaped myself in accordance with the trends that emerged. When it comes to natives, I am a member of the "Santhal Tribe," an indigenous minority group.

There are over 100 tribes in India, and each one has its own clothing, food, festival, language, and rituals. But, due to school and other obligations, we were unable to visit our hometown as frequently as we would have liked. And perhaps this is why I know so little about my own tribe.

It was my cousin's brother's wedding—the only boy in our entire family tree, with only one brother to seven sisters. I was overjoyed, but no Indian function is complete without a hiccup, and so my exams fell on the same day as my brother's wedding.

I couldn't make it to the wedding, but I promised I wouldn't miss the authentic Santhali reception. Okay let’s not jump into the fact that I missed the ceremony. But visiting my hometown after almost a decade felt so relaxing.

Sagarbhanga is a small village located in the Jharkhand district of Sahebganj. Tribals can be found at every turn and are extremely friendly.

I don't want to brag, but my family home is the largest in the entire district, and it is referred to as "Bada Ghar" by the locals. Because of the village people's regard for us, they came to assist with the preparations. Women were involved in making decorations out of the palm leaves.

Oh, how beautiful their work was, and how natural everything was. Few men were painting on the walls, and they were tribal wall paintings with various creatures painted on them. It was absolutely lovely. The beauty of a tribe is that we live as one community and help each other unconditionally. 

I should be familiar with the local tongue they use, santhali, but alas, I am not able to communicate in it. We even have our own traditional clothing, known as "Panchi Parhat" for women and lungi or dhoti for men.

My sisters and I decided to dress in traditional attire for the ceremony. The dress was arranged, and a few locals assisted us in draping it. it was so pretty and easy to handle, light weight as it was made of cotton. My parents and other relatives were so happy to see us in our own traditional clothes. 

In the ceremony all the village people gathered and presented gifts to the bride and the groom. My brother is so lucky he got a lot of gifts and blessings, I can’t wait to have a ceremony of my own. 

It was time for food after the gift exchange. "The simpler, the better," is all I have to say. I'm sure the first thing that comes to mind when we hear the word "marriage" is the food. Being Indian, we always want pulav, Manchurian, or paneer butter masala; it's just ingrained in our minds that it should be on the menu.

And I thought the same thing, but the taste of authentic simple food on a 'pattal' surprised me. Off-white perfectly cooked rice, dal, meat, and veggies, and that's it, all served on dried leaf plates. And, no offence, but all the dishes I've ever tasted in restaurants and hotels paled in comparison.

I know you're thinking it'll create a lot of trash, but pattals are biodegradable, so we dumped it in a large hole that was later covered by soil. "Khaane ke baad kuch meetha ho jaye," we say now that we've eaten. You won't be sorry, believe me. Aside from the usual sweets, there was one item that piqued my interest. Those yellow bead-like things called "Bundiya" just melted as soon as I took a spoonful of them.

Mesmerizing, a perfect way to round out the dish, but what I really missed was the authentic 'Dumbu' sweet from the tribe. It's made of rice flour, and the sweet dough is formed into many small balls before being steamed.

While I was eating the sweets, I overheard people discussing being a patient. Who got hurt, I wondered, until my mother explained that it was a ritual. A fun ritual in which the new bride pretends to be a doctor while the groom's sisters and relatives pretend to be injured by covering their legs and hands with mud and straws. And the bride is expected to treat them well (wash their hands and feet).

But the best part is yet to come: the bride tightly grips the patient's feet and demands fees (gifts), refusing to leave until you give her gift. That sounded like fun, so I tried it as well.

It was great to see the entire family enjoying themselves after such a long time apart.

What about the dance, though? The ground was cleared, chairs were moved, and music was played immediately after each ritual. I was expecting the barati dance, but it's an authentic wedding.

A few men who could play mandar gathered in the centre, and women formed a circle around them. It was a santhali folk dance, and it was a lot of fun. We danced until after midnight, which resulted in sore leg muscles next day.

Those were two lovely days spent in my hometown. I learned a lot about my own culture that I was unaware of because I had spent my entire life in a city. I enjoyed every minute I was there and hope to return soon. Yes, there is one thing I still regret: not learning my native language.

There is a misconception that tribal in Jharkhand live in jungles, wear leaves, and eat raw food. Well, the answer is already given; it is simply a misconception.

We as a tribe prefer to live close to nature, not in jungles, but in homes that only a few people know about, which is unfortunate. Remember that there is a distinction between being indigenous and being uncivilized.

And I've learned that it's important to know and respect your roots no matter where you live.

[the-himawari]

A3! Yukishiro Azuma - Translation [SSR] Elegant Ankh (3/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Troupe members: Thanks for the food!

Taichi: Hah, that was great! But I feel like I still have room for more!

Juza: There’s still stuff I wanna eat too.

Tenma: Oh, dessert? Alright, shall we have what Juza-san wants to eat next?

Azuma: Go for it. There are lots of Indian sweets that you don’t see often in Japan, so I think you can enjoy many different things.

Tsuzuru: What are you two gonna do after this?

Izumi: Actually, there’s a booth we want to check out…

Tsuzuru: In that case, isn’t it better to split up now? We’re gonna eat the sweets Juza requests and then head home.

Izumi: Right, that works.

Tenma: Seriously, thanks, Azuma-san. I ate my fill.

Juza: Thanks for the food.

Azuma: You’re very welcome.

Taichi: See ya, Azuma-san, Director-sensei~!

Azuma: Alright, shall we head to the mehndi shop?

Izumi: Lead the way!

-pause-

Staff: Welcome. Which part shall I work on today?

Azuma: I suppose I’ll choose the back of my hand.

Izumi: Okay, same here.

Staff: Please select a design. The basic motifs are over here…

Izumi: Wow, so there’s so many kinds!

Azuma: Which design will ask for, Director?

Izumi: Let me see… I’ll go with this flower!

Azuma: Fufu, I thought you would say that. …I’ll choose this one.

Staff: Understood. I will get started then.

Izumi: Huh? They’re using white ink on me.

Staff: This is called white henna and it’s less irritating to the skin that the regular kind. Many people use it for weddings too.

Azuma: Ahh… that reminds me, I heard there are areas where brides always apply mehndi on the eve of their wedding.

Option 1: “It’s lovely”

Izumi: Oh, it’s lovely having that sort of custom.

Azuma: Mehndi is believed to have the power to protect you against evil and bring good luck.

Izumi: I see. That sounds perfect for a wedding!

Azuma: It’s interesting that wedding customs vary so much from country or region.

Izumi: So true! Just looking at the clothing, you can choose either western style or Japanese style in Japan.

Azuma: …

Izumi: W-what is it? You’re staring all of a sudden…

Azuma: I was just imagining which one would look better on you if you became my bride.

Izumi: You’re saying stuff like that again! Geez…!

Option 2: “It’s beautiful”

Izumi: It’s beautiful. It almost looks like the lace of a wedding dress when they draw with white ink.

Azuma: Actually, white henna fades in 2 to 3 days since the ingredients are different from the brown type.

Izumi: Eh, really? That’s so short…! Aw, that’s too bad.

Azuma: That’s how it is. So… Won’t you stay with me until it fades? I’ll watch over you morning, noon, and night.

Izumi: There’s no way that’s happening! Or rather, you’re teasing me, right?

Azuma: Fufu, I wonder?

Staff: You should do mehndi at your real wedding if you try it here and take a liking to it!

Izumi: (Real wedding…? Wait, are they misunderstanding something here!?)

Azuma: Sounds great. I’m sure Izumi would look wonderful with white henna that matches her wedding dress on.

Izumi: !?

Staff: Absolutely. Please consider it!

Izumi: H-hold on, Azuma-san! Can you not say things that’ll cause a misunderstanding…!

Azuma: Fufu. Sorry, sorry. Your reactions are so adorable, it just slipped out.

---

previous |

[niralmylasaravanan]

FUCK YOU!

June 13 2022

In Indian movies there is always a love story. A beautiful girl in a sparkly dress will get swept off her feet by a charming young man. I am tired of pretending that will happen to me. I am no silver screen beauty. I am nothing more than a twisted up person clinging to the hope that people will love her someday.

(Of course, people love me. Just not the one I desperately desire.)

S is not interested. He says nothing to be prove contrary. To him I am too much. I am a hackneyed myriad of cliches in his eyes. I am nothing more than an empty brain and a pair of spread legs, lips covered in liquor and lungs filled with smoke. I am a party crazed slut who does not know where their boundaries are, only to keep pushing past the barrier every time it comes. I should be hurt but I am just angry, angry with this man who does not understand that I have the universe pulsating inside of me. I am cosmic, I am divine, I am a fucking naive child to think anything about me would be desirable to him.

He does not know what I’ve been through. I have been through hell and clawed my way out—do not act as if I do not carry the weight of a trillion versions of myself. I have fucked and fled and fought and scraped together some semblance of dignity for myself.

(Does he know my favorite color?)

I am supposed to be healthy now. I am supposed to be okay now. One whisper of distaste from him and I am crumbling again. I no longer see the stars in my eyes and moonlight in my hair. Looking in the mirror, in my phone’s forward camera, in the dim blackness of my car’s windshield I see someone who has made more mistakes than good decisions. I see a fool.

In a time of warmth and sun I have found myself in the deepest depths of winter once more. I have returned to the nastiness of the worst parts of myself. My insecurity sits in the corner of my mind, dripping blood and mud, dirty and haggard, touching everything in my oasis and turning it to rot. I am losing sense of myself. I do not know how to get it back.

In the car earlier today my mind flipped spastically from AM to FM. I should hate him. I should banish him from my paradise and send him traipsing through the briars, thorns picking his eyes out of his skull for disgracing me. If he shall not spend every day looking at me then he shall look at nothing at all. Is the turbulence understood? Am I speaking to myself? Gone are the moments I pictured for us: sleeping together naked after sex; a double sinked vanity bathroom; my pregnant belly; two cars in the driveway; a picket fence and a three story house. I need him more than I want him. I cannot create a stable home without him. I hate the color of his eyes because they are the same as mine. Is the turbulence understood?

I wear my mother’s wedding ring wrapped tightly around my finger in hope that he will place it there again one day. I am no one if not for the love story I have written for myself.

[evasjacks]

rant abt zoyalai wedding we will def have in row :')

oh boy here we go

first of all nikolai is determined absolutely nothing goes wrong. NOTHING. Even the weather has to be absolutely perfect because this is for Zoya and she deserves the best of the best.

the wedding is HUGE there isn't a dime spared for this even if Ravka is broke, Nikolai's gonna spend every cent in the treasury because Zoya deserves it all. And in spirit of making things perfect...he does a ton of the planning.

And I mean a ton of it.

Genyas technically in charge but at three am Zoya wakes up to the sound of her and Nikolai arguing over what color the napkins should be. She sits up and squints at them, somewhere between ready to cancel the wedding or murder her fiance and best friend while they argue if violet is preferable to periwinkle or not

She shouts that they're exactly the same

"they are not." It's the one thing those two idiots can agree on.

Surprisingly Zoya gets on better with David during this period of time pre-wedding because she has absolutely no interest in doing any of the planning herself "I didn't do the dirty work as a soldier, you think I'll start when I'm about to be queen?"

she did want to be involved in the design of her wedding dress though...and Genya refused to let her. She took her measurements, wrote stuff down in a clipboard that was at this point attached to her hand, and gave Zoya a secretive smile before going "just trust me"

On the morning of the wedding, Zoya finds out why. It's a Suli designed dress, deep blue threaded with gold that fans out at her ankles (think Indian Lehenga) with maangtika-esque gold jewelry draped over her head and the overall effect is just stunning

In fact had she paid more attention to the wedding planning, Zoya would discover that a the entire thing is a Ravkan-Suli combo that Genya and Nikolai spent hours putting together, finding the right flowers, the appropriate cake flavors, incorporating traditions

Zoya actually gets teary eyed. She insists it's just dust but any idiot can tell it isn't.

Of course when Nikolai sees her he short circuits. She's walking down the isle in all her glory and he can't help but think that she had always been a queen, now she just had the title to go with it.

He literally doesn't break eye contact with her the whole time she's walking down the isle and Zoya just smirks a bit but her heart's skipping beats and he's dressed in all gold practically sparkling and everything feels suddenly perfect

She wishes Liliyana could be there to see it. He's wondering what comment Dominik would have made at his wedding. They're both a little teary eyed but positively bursting with happiness.

The officiant is reading through all the traditional stuff and Nikolai just looks at Zoya with her hair cascading down her back, an actual proper happy smile on her face and for once her eyes aren't clouded with thoughts about politics or war or anything awful, they're bright and blue and wholly focused on him.

And yes he wrote his own vows and yes he included lines of awful poetry about her sapphire eyes but it's good because they end with "and the fact that you're still standing here after enduring that god awful poetry makes me love you that much more. I can't wait to annoy you for the rest of our lives"

And she rolls her eyes but it's sweet and Nikolai's practically bouncing on his feet with excitement and all he wants to do is kiss her but he's a sentimental little shit so when the officiant finally says "you may kiss the bride" he just stares at Zoya for a full minute, trying to take in the moment, still not quite sure it's real.

Zoya rolls her eyes and pulls him to her, kissing him hard and for once they're not hiding and damn the whole palace explodes with cheers and when she pulls back he's grinning and he peppers her face with kisses and the officiant absolutely makes a comment about how they should save something for the wedding night

It's a day that goes down in history because just this once, nothing went wrong. Just this once the politics and scandals and wars didn't intrude on their moment, their day. And all of Ravka celebrated.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villains / Slenderman and Seedeater x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Into the Unknown

Notes:

Based off the song from Frozen ‘Into the Unknown’.

One Horror Villain in particular is in this story. Wait and try to figure out who it is before it ends ^^ (;

‘X Reader’ as in you’re going to interact with them. Not as in you’re in a romance with them all. 

The Horror Villains are only really mentioned. Except the one you gotta watch out for

I love this. So. Much. 

Plot: Reader has spent her whole life, from 13 years old, searching for, defeating and understanding the creatures of night. They’ve always fascinated her- that they’re so dark, and yet still so coherent. She felt drawn to them, because she felt like she understood them. And she loved the thrill, of being a part of it.

But she stopped that years ago. She’s a grandmother now, a wife. Which isn’t to say that she regrets being either of those things. In fact, she loves it. Which is the very reason she’s put her monster hunting days behind her. She can’t put the people around her in danger, but… there’s something, in the woods, calling out to her.

Warnings: I don't think there is anything actually?  

~~~

I have a surprising, out of the ordinary amount to think about, while you wash the dishes today. See, the window above this houses sink, adorned with pale blue and pink swirls over a white base paint, looks out onto the Black Forest, which unironically is the bane of my existence right now. Something about it, is clearly off in some way. More people disappear between its perimeter then Crystal Lake, Haddonfield and Pleasant Valley put together. And that’s just what normal people, without my experience and expertise can see.

I can feel it. A gut warning, not to go in there. Not for a walk, not to explore and definitely not respond to its calls. I can feel it like a tugging at my heart, like what forced my feet to move down the aisle on my wedding day, and what makes people run away from the basement at night once the lights are turned off all at once. I know there’s something in there, and something in me definitely wants to go see. To feel the adventure in the wind again on my face.

But I won’t. I can’t.

There’s something in this house calling for me to stay away, as well. It’s called family, and love. And no mystical forest is going to tear me from it.

Finishing the last plate, I pull big rubber gloves off my hands and drop them on the side of the sink and flash the forest one more dirty look, before turning away completely and leaving the room.

At this time of day, the yellow painted walls look more a beautiful, late day orange. Shadows from the trees hit, as well, and as I open the windows to let in the air, I feel immediate relaxation as the coolness caresses my cheeks and my neck. Settles me down, grounds me. Fills my heart with something other then the longing and disobedience I’m forcing upon myself.

Once all the windows are open, so I can clearly hear the wind chimes outside and the rooms all cool down, goose bumps crawling up my arms in a good way, I pick up a book from the shelf under the dusty TV and settle myself down comfortably in a chair covered in pillows in various floral designs. Yes, its an old lady chair, but its comforting and looks good with the rest of the décor.

Half an hour of peaceful reading successfully takes my mind off of the forest and whoever, or whatever, is in and allows me to disappear half inside the pages of another murder mystery. Then I hear the bell I handily fixed to the front door because my husband walks completely silently, jingle like an old Café signalling him getting home. “I’ve returned. I managed to find the bickies you like on my travels, so you’ll love me for another day I think.”

A nearly delicate snort escapes me at that, purely happy he’s back and put down my book as the door shuts again and the disembodied voice becomes Hudson when he round the hallway corner and enters the livingroom. A bag of groceries in each hand, which I get up and help him with immediately, taking one and peaking inside. Aha! The biscuits! He laughs softly, at my antic and leads me to kitchen, so we can put the books away. I risk a glance out the window, at the forest just so see how dark it is now. Not orange, but a dusky blue. I turn away from the forest coldly, which cuts off its calls to me in response, and turn on the light.

“So, how were your travels?” I ask, pulling the milk and some sandwich meats out of a bag and heading to the fridge, which he opens for me on instinct before taking the warm foods to the cupboard.

“A hassle, I’m sure is what you want to hear as I was away from you for so long,” I flash him a cheeky look at that for being so cheeky himself, and get another soft laugh back. Almost inhuman, its so soft. I’ve always thought, he must have some fae in him, and theorised that he’s a changing. “But it was quite nice. I walked all down the shops, and looked in most of them. Not the butchers, though. You know why.”

Ah, yeah. The man running the desk there, Dexter, is a bit of a flirt. But instead of admitting that I pick up on his advances, I shrug and take a seat at the kitchen table to watch him put away the rest of warm groceries. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But go on.”

A deep sigh escapes him, which is totally put on as I know he finds my antics endearing- he’s told me too many times before. “You know very well, but whatever. I did go into the Indian grocery though, and I picked up some of those spices I sent you a picture of, and… “He goes on about the spices, which truly did interest me, as they were all the way from New Delhi and had beautiful jars, but suddenly the feeling from the forest picked up. Got stronger, and grew to fill every inch of me. If I were a dog, my ears would perk up and my nose would be going crazy.

That same call for midnight adventure, now made worse because of beautiful night air that made me feel so much better before, as if it’s changed tactics. For a few moments, at least, I stare off into space, towards the tall trees and darkness between trunks of the Black Forest. For a second, I allow myself to wonder what’s in there. Well actually, ‘allow’ may not be the wrong word, as it was completely out of my control.

But then Hudson’s hand lands gently on my shoulder, as he sinks into the seat beside me and successfully knocks me back to my senses just in time. A relieved sigh escapes me on accident, as I turn from the window again and to him. Senses crash down on me and I drop my shoulders. “I’m so sorry, I’m tired today.”

“Tired. Is that what we’re calling it?” He raises his eyebrows, knowing very well what’s really going on with me. And I know what he thinks I should do. But I can’t. Who knows what’s in that forest? It could be dangerous. Could be voodoo, like Chucky. Or something worse, something more demented like spirit. I wont call that to my family by revealing myself to it. He squeezes my shoulder and it’s halfway between comforting and advocative. So, I give him a look, but I lean into him.

“You know why I can’t give in to it.” My voice is nothing but a whisper, because who knows. It could be listening.

“Too much of you is part of that side of the world, Y/N. You can’t cut it off, you should give it a chance.” I look away from his face, and definitely away from the window. The wall, then. “I’m afraid it’ll rip you apart.

“Then so be it.” I don’t really mean it. To take care of my family, I need to be here. And even without that, I’m not ready to die. The years of fighting off things that have, has assured that fear in me. But I want this conversation to be over, so I say it.

He sets me with a serious look, like just saying that hurts him he wants me to never do it again. I glance at him, and sigh. “Promise me to think about it?”

“Can’t do that.” He knows, I can’t.

“… well, its not as if you can avoid it. Its ingrained in you. I’ll just wait and see.” Those little comments, although very true, have me gaping at his audacity. He flashes me a mischievous grin, then pull me up to our feet and wraps an arm around me. “Come on, darling. Let’s go to bed, then. I don’t foresee this conversation ending well for either of us.”

“Clever boy.” I clip, grinning at him when he gapes himself.

~~~

Later that night, once the sky is a deep, dark midnight blue and the stars and the moon are only just causing enough light to see shapes and dull colours by, I’m still wide awake. Hudson’s fallen into a peaceful sleep, but I’m still laying on my back with my eyes wide open, staring at the uneventful ceiling. The feeling calling me to the forest is so loud, in my ears now like rushing water at the pool, or a waterfall. Or tsunami.

I shouldn’t go. I can’t. I won’t!

The window in our room faces the same way as the kitchen, and if I only get up I could see it. Curb some of this pressure.

But if I do that, there’s a 50/50 chance that I’ll snap and go marauding into the forest at night. Which is dangerous without the definite mystical being hugged inside it.

I really shouldn’t go.

Another couple seconds pass, and I’m getting out of bed and pulling on my dressing down over my comfortable, soft pyjamas. I pass right over the window like the dauntless I am and go right to the front door, which I swing open. A cold rush of air, definitely not from natural sources, comes at me like waking up ice and I look out to the forest, which is a football field sized walk through the snow to get to from here. But that isn’t what’s daunting, despite the fact that I’m only wearing fuzzy socks and slippers to protect my feet.

No, it’s the figure waiting for me. Its huge, too, and I can’t figure anything else in the dark and from this distance. A final moment passes, and I pull a ski hat on over my head and my ears and go marauding towards the forest. “To hell.” I snap, on my way with my fists clenched.

About hallway towards the being, the monster, it starts coming towards me, as well. I don’t know what to expect when I get there. I all I know is that the feeling I’m getting off of it this moment is not benevolent, and I try to believe that. Finally, when we get within 5 feet of each other, we stop. It’s got a skull face that would be horrifying to anyone who hadn’t already seen what’s under the Midnight Man’s mask and the horrible screaming faces on a dream demon’s stomach. And its also got hair, human like and soft looking but unbrushed and probably never been washed, all over its bulging body. It stays still, only moving enough to breath out visible steam from its skull head into the world.

Not one to shy away, and certainly not one to stand by and just look when I’ve been called and decided to come, I take the remaining steps to it. Slowly, and cautiously. I raise my hand like you do when you’re approaching a wild beast, so it can smell you and theirs at least one thing between you and its teeth, which really wouldn’t help but at least makes you feel better, and focus on the way my shoes crush gently into the centre metres of sand under them. The sound’s satisfying, and calms me enough to reach the monster, and touch my hand to the middle of its skull.

A grunt escapes it, causing more frosty air to come out from him and into the world, before he sits his behind down into the snow without fear and pushes gently back into my hand. I feel that familiar, unreal joy at being with another creature, and start gently stroking up and down the smooth material, a puff of frosty air escaping my own mouth as I break into a smile. “Ohh, were you the only thing hiding in those woods? Oh, you’re a sweetheart. I’m glad we met.” A giggle escapes me when he tilts his head and I watch the delicate way his long, wispy fur moves in the wind. He’s the kind of beautiful that forces a smile on you, and a giggle out. Personally, my favourite kind of beautiful.

Relaxing, as the feeling calling me to the forest all but dissipates, I stay with him for a little while longer. As long as I can, actually. In the end, he’s the one who gets up, taps my nose with his huge one, and turns away and trots off. I watch him go, in complete peace and content…

Before my stomach drops and a realisation, made dull because of the nice experience I just had, hits me. The feeling’s come right back, now that he’s leaving, and taking the relief with him. “You… weren’t, the thing calling to me, were you?” I ask it so quietly, I didn’t think he would hear.

But a roar is my response. And the air around me, or in me, whispers Right…

Theirs more.

~~~

The next morning I poor Hudson orange juice and slide it over the bench to him, avoiding the discussion of last nights adventure for as long as I can. Because I know, he knows. He knows everything, somehow. And he’s been giving me a knowing look all morning.

“So,” The mischievous way his voice bends around that conjunction is wholly obnoxious, but I hide my eyeroll badly by drinking my own orange juice. It only makes him want to talk more. “Are you going to go back, tonight?”

Of course! Of course, he knows that theirs more to see. Changeling, for sure.

Setting him with a ‘Stop’ look, I round the counter and head for the living room to sit down and read some more of my book to get away from this, but of course he follows me. “Probably not, in answer to your question.”

He straddles the footrest that goes with this chair and takes my book from me, so I have to focus on him. “Sweetheart, I just want you to be happy. And well.”

“And I you.” I say curtly, and because I want to end this conversation.

“That’s wonderful to hear, darling, but you know what I mean. Didn’t meeting that big, dog-monster feel good?”

Of course, it did…

To that, I have no sarcastic or show-stopping response, because yes. I felt the best then than I have since the last monster. I love monsters, and Slashers, and creatures and beings. They’re my passion, my thing. But I didn’t choose that, and I guess that’s what caught me, here.

I picked my family.

I guess what I’m between, is what I chose and what I didn’t.

I take a deep breath, and look back at him.

~~~

… okay. I think, readying myself to go in. I’ve got a satchel with some food, a couple charms, my compass and all the crystals in the house- plus some dried chamomile petals in little bag, for safety and protection. Don’t know how effective these things will be, you never know when you go up against something new, but it’s definitely worth a shot.  

I’m just squaring my shoulders to go, and start my trek across the field, when Hudson’s hands fall on my shoulders and nearly causes me a stroke. He never makes noise when he walks!! And he knows he scared me, too, if the chuckling is anything to go by. Oh my god…

“Goodluck sweetheart, I have the utmost faith in you.” Oh, his voice is way too cheerful because he won. I should make rissoles tonight, then he’ll be sorry. He hates rissoles. I bet he’s smiling.

Bastard.

“Thank you.”

“Goodbye kiss?”

I turn over my shoulder to look at him, and give him just a squinty smile. “Not on your life!”

“Ooh, you wound me. Okay, have fun!” Well, he seemed to get over that ailment quickly, seeing as he pats my butt to get me going. I shoot him one more greasy, then get on my way.

Across the field to possibly certain doom… but also possible delicious, wonderful adventure, I go.

As I travel across the field and into the forest, whispering in me and in the air gets louder. Just like the voice that said ‘Right’, last night, this one is. Except more urgent, and getting worse the further I go, pushing me on. I feel like what I’m reaching is big.

Past bushes and beautiful autumnal environment I go all the way through, stepping over logs and around trees that stand in my way because the voice knows where I need to go, and therefore so do I.

An hour passes of just stomping, and travelling, until abruptly the voice tells me to Stop! Harshly, of course I follow its instructions. Who am I to ignore a wind voice.

At first, I look slowly around thinking I’ll see it just standing there, waiting for me in plain sight like the monster from last night. And when I don’t see anything, I look harder, because maybe its camouflaged? Eventually though, after about 10 minutes of staying where I am, where it told me to Stop, I give up just peering around and move. I walk around the clearing, forest floor covered in brick coloured, marmalade shades, and dandelion painted leaves, and wet sticks, and patches of snow, and look in as many different ways as I can think of. Maybe I’m looking for something super small… maybe something so big it blends into the picture… maybe it’s not animalistic but a mystical object… But alas, nothing.

Until, eventually, I turn around he’s just there.

“-Holy fuck!-“ I react, jumping back from what, or who, is obviously what I was looking for, having not expected at all for him to be just standing there where I already checked 3 times when I turned around. An otherworldly and staticky yet still somehow spiteful chuckle fills the forest, somehow coming from the whispering of the wind and his person at once.

“Thought I might have some fun, seeing as you made me wait so long. How’s that for consideration? I have things to do, you know.” When he talks, theirs surprisingly no humour evident in his voice. In fact, he sounds bitter, and annoyed.

“Well, hey, man. I didn’t RSVP so you shouldn’t have been expecting me in the first place.” I snap back, getting up from where I’d fallen on my butt and peeling wet leaves off my jacket.

“Hm, no, well I suppose you aren’t the one who called this meeting, so… “He mutters- well, I say mutter because he says it like he doesn’t want me to hear, but he doesn’t lower his voice. He’s not afraid of me hearing, he would just appreciate it if I wouldn’t listen.

Cocky bastard.

I watch, cautiously as he raises a long, white, spiderlike finger to his left temple and taps it. “Telepathetic.”

“Oh… “Heat builds up in my cheeks, despite the freezing cold. “Uh, sorry.”

“And I thought you mortals were aware of me… Offender sure as heck doesn’t try to keep us a secret.” That unlocks knowledge in me. He’s Slenderman, of course! I didn’t realise, because I truly didn’t think he existed! A Creepypasta, used to curb teenage lust and loneliness. But, honestly, his figure should have led me to that conclusion. And if not that, then the hundreds of other clues. The way the voice in the ‘wind’ sounded like it was in my own head, the very fact that we’re locate din the Black Forest, in Germany… Maybe Hudson’s right, and I’m out of tune.

“Hm, yes, quite. You are incompetent.” Man, that telepathy is going to be a pain. I thought Slenderman was supposed to be a gentleman… but, then again. I guess, he is a recluse. And he really doesn’t care what he says.

Despite his rudeness, it is amazing that he’s real. It sparks an awe in me, that’s even more intense then the creature from last night. He, is the epitome of what monster hunters and explorers want to prove is real. He’s... a dream come true. I’m… I’m tickled, and… humbled, to get to meet him. So tall, and amazing. Majestic from every angle.

But… I’m still confused.

“So, what did you want me for, anyway?”

Immediately, the long, thin tentacles that were hanging decoratively dormant around Slenderman flick annoyedly and his mood takes an instant change to even worse. I take a quick step back, hoping beyond hope that distance will calm him down. Because if now, there is no way anything in my satchel will save me. “What did I want from you?! Why… He said you n- … “Again, with the ‘he’. Who’s he?

I want to know, but not enough to get decapitated for it so I don’t ask out loud.

Slenderman’s words cut off into static air sizzling around us, as the cogs in his brain start working faster, I’m sure, before he comes to a conclusion. He turns his head to ‘look’ at me again, without eyes, and stays silent for a moment. The air feels even colder then before, as the static gets momentarily unbearable and I squeak, covering my ears. Then it cuts off, and he sighs in utter annoyance. “Get out of my forest.” And with those last, sweet parting words, he disappears.

“I… “ I look around, to make sure he isn’t waiting behind me to kill me, because he just seems like that kind of monster, before closing my mouth and curtly turning to go home. Well, that was… I’m not quite sure.

It was amazing, getting to meet him… I’ll never forget it. My heart’s beat feels errative, and calm all at once because this is my passion… but… I’m still confused. Who’s ‘he’? Why did Slenderman call me? What was all this about?

But… then again… I think as I walk. As disappointing and hard as it may be for me, and any other monster afficionado… the fact of Slender’s age does have to play a part. And the fact, if we are to believe all the information that’s on the internet, that he lives alone and contact others as little as possible, so… well, he might just be off his rocker. Maybe… Maybe I shouldn’t put much stock into the things he said. He seemed confused himself. And, to be honest, a little instable.

I worry my bottom lip as I emerge from the forest again and hour later, or less because the way back always takes less.

If I’ve learnt nothing from this experience… except of course the Slenderman is real and a real jerk, too… it’s that I cant live anymore without this feeling, that I get when I adventure, and meet something new. When I realise, that all the myths and legends and stories that humans have told over the years may be true, somehow.

It builds me up, and makes me feel brave. I’ve missed it.

I… I don’t know, if I can go back to dormancy.

After I open the front door of my house, and close it behind me I lean back into it, tired and giddy. I’m so giddy, that I nearly don’t notice the smell of dinner on the stove but when I do my tummy rumbles, and I push off the door and go into the kitchen. I find the pot on the stove, and a note on the pot lid.

‘Y/N, dearest.

I’ve gone out for a walk while this boils. So, if you come home while I’m out, know I’ve just gone down the path in the backyard, not run off away from you for I could never do such a thing.

I hope your trip went well, and I can’t wait to hear about it over dinner.

Oh, and the garlic bread is in the oven and is probably burning.

Xoxo,

-          Hudson I.’

“Gah!” Garlic bread! I smell it now! Damnit Hudson!

~~~ BACK IN THE FOREST. THIRD PERSON POV~~~

The man in the dark coat, and silvery beard, slips easily into Slender Mansion and to Slender’s study without the other Pasta’s knowledge, but certainly not without Slenders knowledge.

“You made go see that stupid girl as your one favour… and she didn’t even know you sent me after her??” The pen in Slenders hand snaps, making him sighs deeply and put it down, wiping his hand of ink with a handkerchief. Inkubus but smiles.

“She needed to be reminded of what she loved. It was important enough for the favour to me.”

“You’ve confused her. I don’t think I’d keep things from my mortal, if I ever was idiot enough to fall in love with one… “Slender finishes cleaning his fingers, and turns in his seat to drop the ruined handkerchief in the bin by his desk. He sighs, in defeat, because he knows he will never get through to the other immortal. He’s never been able to, before. What’s new now? “But, then again, I wouldn’t make that mistake, so I really don’t know.”

“She’ll be fine. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you. I saw the whole thing, and it worked wonderfully.” 

Slender sets Inkubus which is a blank look to anyone else, but which is one of total deadpan to him. “Whatever. It was a favour, so now you can go back to your wife. You burnt the garlic bread, and she’s not happy about it.”

[thisislizheather]

July Jiffs 2021

Yes, this monthly post should’ve been written on August 1st. Don’t be such a stickler, it’s not attractive. In any case, my apologies, it definitely will happen again. Here’s what went down in July!

You can find my favourite tweets of the month over here and here.

I ate the July-only-special Emmy cheeseburger dumplings from Mimi Cheng’s and they were incredible. I feel bad that you missed eating them.

Above Photo: Emmy Burger Dumplings (emmy cheeseburger dumplings in collaboration with Pizza Loves Emily/Emmy Squared, dry-aged beef, Grafton cheddar, crushed pretzels, caramelized onions, and Emmy Sauce. Pan-fried only. (8 pieces) $16.45

Nathan and I have been making homemade green iced tea every day and I think we might officially be better than you now…? Weird how that happened.

I finally found rain boots! I got them during the Nordstrom sale and I can’t wait to test them out. Those boots and this rain coat? Finally my life is figured out.

I wrote about the day trip I took to Connecticut.

Dying to see the movie about Celine Dion ‘Aline’ because it sounds insane.

I went to The Met to see the roof finally and what a time I had, I can’t wait to go again after October 29th when the fashion exhibit opens.

Above Photo: The Met rooftop, July 2021

Above Photo: The French decorative arts wing, The Met

Did you know that China imposed a cybercurfew barring those under 18 from playing games between 10pm and 8am? I kind of love it? I might not be allowed to have that opinion out loud, but here we are.

It’s summer so I’m making these tomato sandwiches semi-daily but I reeeally want to make this one with garlic aioli next.

I had the pizza at Spunto’s in the West Village and A+, will definitely go again.

I made crab cakes at home for the first time (with this dipping sauce) and I can’t believe how easy and incredible they were. Crab cakes > lobster, ANY day.

Ate the meatball parm at Scarr’s because I’m clearly crushing life and it was really good. I don’t think I’ve ever had a mind-blowing one, so the search continues.

Above Photo: Meatball parm at Scarr’s, NYC

I’ve been wanting a great club sandwich for months, so I went to Marks Off Madison and it was beyond satisfying. The bar area is perfect if you’re eating alone and the staff was stellar. Their Times review is so well deserved.

Above Photo: Club sandwich at Marks Off Madison, NYC

I used this Becca body highlighter (look it was $5 at Marshalls and we’re all depressed, leave me alone) to use at a wedding and did my legs look shiny? Not sure, I received approximately zero feedback on it but here’s the verdict: it’s a perfectly okay product. I think I just wanted to try something from Becca since they’re going out of business next month.

I also tried and already returned the lip plumper from Grande Cosmetics, which was a disappointment. Lip plumpers never work, when will I learn. Hot sauce lips might just truly be the only answer to temporary plumpness.

As a Canadian, I hope you’re aware of Mathew Evans and Henry Woodward because you should be. CAN’T believe I didn’t know about them until now. Where the hell was the Heritage Moment for them?!

I made a strawberry crumble coffee cake and it was too, too good, it’s such a perfect recipe if you have an abundance of strawberries and you’re sick of making jam. Adding sour cream made it moist as hell and I have to remember this for future coffee cakes.

Above Photo: Strawberry crumble coffee cake

It’s insane that it took me three decades to finally try caviar, but I did and now I want it by the boatload. I was gonna ask why no one told me, but everyone, everywhere has always been vocal about its greatness, so I’ll close my mouth.

I had to get an Indian wedding suit tailored, so I went to India Sari Palace in Jackson Heights and I can’t recommend it enough. Never had something tailored so perfectly. (I’ll never forgot Mindy Kaling saying years ago how rich people don’t buy better clothes, they just have all of their clothing tailored to their bodies so everything just looks better on them.)

I made this lemon butter ricotta zucchini pasta and it was summer in a bowl. I charred and added fresh corn as well and that sent it straight through the goddamn roof.

I’ll always look at the trivia page on IMDB of any movie I watch, so I can’t believe I didn’t know most of these Back To The Future details.

I bought this Zara dress for one of the weddings I went to and I can’t believe how much I loved it.

Above Photo: The Zara dress

I visited the new Dominique Ansel Workshop and I hate to say it, but it’s wildly overhyped. Maybe I’m wrong, but isn’t the chocolate in a chocolate croissant supposed to be a little melted and not hard as a rock? And the tomato tart tatine was weirdly underdone, too. What’s going on?

I made these eggless chocolate chip cookies that were wonderful.

In failure news this month, I optimistically tried to start a wardrobe challenge but brutally flopped on following through with it so I will attempt it again soon!

Incase you care, August is the only month you can apply for SNL tickets so get on that, if you so desire.

I maintain that this is the best moment from any of the Paranormal Activity movies, it still gives me chills.

Look, I’m a simple person. Sometimes you just want some Dippin’ Dots without trekking to an amusement park.

Above Photo: Dippin’ Dots in Flatiron, NYC

The Enbridge Ride to Conquer Cancer benefiting benefiting Princess Margaret Cancer Centre is a two-day, 200-kilometre cycling journey through the Canadian countryside on August 28/29, 2021 - support my good friend Greg who’s apart of it over here!

Things that I’ve been rewatching:

Desperate Housewives and I have zero idea why, it’s an objectively bad show. I grow to hate each character more and more as each season passes by, what am I doing and why can’t I stop.

Old Shrill episodes because I’m so, so sad it’s over forever.

New things I’ve watched:

I’m still in awe of how good this second season of Dave has been and I can’t wait for the season finale next week.

The movie Mystic Pizza - what a party! I mean one viewing is enough, but a pretty good movie.

I finally watched the movie Soul and it was (of course) really good, but my brother was right, it really felt like it was just missing one thing. I can’t explain it, but it was maybe one element away from being a perfect movie.

I tried the croissant soft serve from Supermoon Bakehouse and they’re truly doing the lord’s work over there. Just unreal. They’re only open Fri/Sat/Sun, but their offerings are above and beyond a regular old bakery.

Above Photo: Croissant soft serve at Supermoon Bakehouse, NYC

Some things I’m looking forward to this month: I’ve never even heard of a buckle but now I must make one, I’ll continue to mark things off of my summer list, I’d like to get in at least one more pool, I can’t wait to take a little drive for another mini-trip, and I think I’ll try to spend my remaining summer days tanning on my roof. Oh and of course I need to start plans for October. It’s going to be more fun than ever before, stay tuned.

If you have any interest in reading what went on in June, come on over here.

[rainandhotchocolate]

Coffee and Books

A/N it’s day TWO FOLKS - this is a coffee shop au kind of thing, super fluffy, literally just fluff. and fluff. anyway enjoy the fluff xx

Sirius watched as Y/N heaved the large packaged box through the front door of Grub Street Books as he absentmindedly washed a large glass over and over again in his hands.

“Stop staring you freak,” James elbowed him, grinning as Sirius had to stumble forwards to avoid breaking the glass in his hands.

“I wasn’t staring,” He grumbled, giving another quick glance out the window and across to where Y/N had been standing. She was gone. Sirius looked away quickly, trying to look busy stacking up the rest of the glasses on top of the coffee machine before the 6am rush. James was babbling behind him about his latest attempt to get one of their regulars, Lily, a pretty redhead who ordered 3 shots of coffee and sat working on her computer furiously for hours on end. He nodded along slowly, ducking under the counter to grab more glasses.

“Uh hello?”

A voice came from above the counter, making Sirius jump and bang his head on the shelf.

“Oh hi, hello, oh hey!” Sirius brushed his hair out of his face, surprised to see Y/N standing in front of him, smiling expectantly.

They both spoke simultaneously.

“You’re not usually in this early.”

“Could I grab a strong three-quarter latte?”

“Oh sorry, of course, I normally prepare regulars orders in advance so it will just take a few minutes.” Sirius backtracked, feeling his cheeks flush as he spoke over her again.

“Oh, we are trialling opening earlier to get people walking to work,” Y/N laughed loudly, a throaty sound that made her whole-body shake. Sirius had a pang in his chest as he heard it and struggled to not lean on his forearm and watch her.

“Ok so mornings don’t suit either of us then,” Y/N breathed out a final laugh, smiling brightly at him. Sirius was desperately trying to calm his heart doing acrobatics in his chest.

“Yeah,” He smiled back at her, “You’d think I’d be much better since I do this every day.”

“Perhaps you need some coffee,” She winked and moved to the other side of the counter where patrons usually waited for food. Sirius went to reply but instead opened and closed his mouth before moving towards the coffee machine, cursing internally. James sniggered from behind him as he poured out a double shot and tried to ignore him.

“Oh, shut up, you can’t get a date to save your life,” He hissed in response, but instead of putting James out, his grin grew wider.

“Just you wait, you’ll be at our wedding,” James replied, pushing Sirius forwards and towards where Y/N was walking, “Talk to her.”

“What do I say?”

“Anything!”

“Did you get your haircut?” Sirius called towards Y/N who had turned around to wave goodbye and stopped clumsily to hear him.

“Oh,” She reached out and felt the edge of her hair, “Yeah, I put some colour in it.”

“It’s…nice.”

“Thanks, it was due for a change,” She smiled at him, still twirling her finger through her hair, “uh, so see you.”

“Yeah,” Sirius waved at her, turning to face the counter and putting his head directly onto it.

“That was not smooth,” Sirius raised his head to see Lily standing in front of him, a smirk playing on her lips as she pulled off her large winter coat.

“Shut up, Miss workaholic, I’m yet to see you make conversation with any potential dates,” Sirius glared at her, placing a glass underneath the coffee machine where James had begun making her order but became periodically distracted with her dark green, figure hugging sweater.

“You have yet to see me outside this café, I do well enough thanks,” Lily winked at Sirius, taking the glass of triple expresso and taking her regular spot at the counter. At first, Sirius had wondered why she bothered sitting at the counter when she seemed to seethe at James’ general existence and constant attempts to ask her out on a date, but he’d soon seen the soft smiles she gave when James wasn’t looking, mostly when the next door neighbours kids came in and he gave them all babycinos with different little pictures in the milk and chatted with them as they stared up at him with awe.

“She is right, that was awful.”

“Yeah thanks mate, that definitely needed to be said,” Sirius grumbled, turning on his hospitality smile, the one that always got him extra tips, and facing the queue of early morning customers who had begun to trek into the café, leaving a trail of wet snow and rain at the entrance.

The day was a long one, it always seemed to get significantly busier when the holidays began, customers wanting a warm drink and to stare at the cold weather from the large glass windows. Sirius was happy for the distraction, wanting to completely forget he ever spoke to Y/N like an absolute prat and focus on the regulars instead. Lily stayed later than usual, still tapping away loudly at her computer when James and Sirius had begun closing up, James humming jingle bells (which had been blasting through the speakers all afternoon) as he mopped the floors.

“I’ve seen you with other customers,” Lily said suddenly, not looking up at Sirius. Sirius had semi-forgotten she was there as he cleaned out the coffee machine and turned to her in surprise.

“What?”

“I’ve seen you chatting to other customers, girls who come through, you could flirt the panties off an old lady.”

“Did I ever tell you how charming you are?” Sirius rolled his eyes, deflecting her insinuation. He knew he was a bit of a flirt; it was something he’d learnt from his parents. Dress well, compliment something specific, plaster a shit-eating grin on your face, and people will trust you. It was automatic at this point, having worked in hospitality for the last 5 years it was ingrained into his system, and as much as he’d rather not thank is parents for anything, it had definitely gotten him a few good nights.

Lily sighed at him, finally closing her laptop and leaning over the counter. Her bright green eyes were a little mesmerising as she glared up at him. Sirius had the sudden thought that perhaps James made her mad just to see this look.

“You get at least one phone number a day, and you can’t even have a fucking conversation with this girl? What’s the deal?”

Sirius continued cleaning the coffee machine, ignoring her continued stare and irritating silence. He groaned, putting down the large bottle of detergent.

“I actually like her, ok? Its like my whole body shuts down when she’s around and I become this… blithering idiot of a human being.”

Lily suddenly broke into a huge smile. Sirius gave her a suspicious look.

“What…”

“Sirius is in love!” Lily cried, her smile somehow getting wider, eyes twinkling up at him. The noise caught the attention of James who was still humming the same three lines of jingle bells. He skipped up to the counter, leaning against it and looking similarly up at Sirius.

“I’m sorry, do repeat that for me, would you?” James put his hands under his chin and crooked his head. Sirius wanted to swipe out a hand and make his hands fall out from underneath him.

“This little immature boy is in love!” Lily said again, without a hint of sarcasm towards James, still grinning. It took James a second to realise that she wasn’t making a snipe at him.

“I -uh, oh!” James’ eyes flickered between Lily and Sirius, hiding his confusion terribly. Lily ignored him regardless, beginning to pack her things back into her large tote bag.

“Just talk to her, pick a subject to ask her about or something, it’s sad seeing you so… well desperate,” Lily gave him a slightly apologetic look before standing up, “Alright, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.

James watched her as she walked out of the café, already on her phone.

“Ok, she’s in love with me,” James lifted his arms up, fists clenched, a look of triumph plastered on his face.

“She was nice to you one time, and that’s your conclusion?”

“You’ve got to have hope, my poor lost in love friend,” James patted his shoulder sagely. Sirius twisted around and pushed him off playfully.

“I’ll kill you,” Sirius grabbed his oversized trench coat and gloves, starting to turn off all the lights as James followed suit.

“You couldn’t live without me,” James made kissing noises, dodging out of the way as Sirius swung towards his ribs.

They locked up and began walking towards their apartment three streets over. The wind was howling now, making the trees lined up across the street sway dangerously over the power lines. Sirius pulled his coat tighter around him, forcing himself to keep looking forwards instead of flicking his eyes back to see if the light was still on in Y/N’s store. I wonder if she is by herself-

“You’ve got the keys, mate,” James nudged him, looking expectantly at the front door they were now standing in front of, pulling Sirius out of his thoughts.

“Right, right,” He replied absent-mindedly, pulling out the large set of keys he kept on hand and finding the right one to bring them into the warmth of their home. They’d lived together ever since school finished, even though James’ parents lived two suburbs over in a huge terrace house near Hyde Park. Whilst James was one of the messiest people Sirius’ had ever come across, and possibly had no idea how to cook anything other than omelettes and stir-fry’s, they’d yet to get into a proper argument that wasn’t just about Sirius distracting James when they were playing FIFA. Which is likely why Sirius’ cranky mood sparked James’ interest.

“What is wrong,” He elongated each vowel, trailing after Sirius who had thrown his coat across the couch and began thumping his way into his bedroom, “Is it just about this girl? What’s her name, Y/N? You really weren’t that bad this morning.”

“Can you just, please, leave me alone for a minute,” Sirius kept his voice calm, not wanting James to start prodding him with his bony fingers.

“Alright, alright,” He put his hands up in defeat, “I’m ordering Indian if you want some.”

Sirius grunted a yes, kicking off his boots outside his room and laying face forward on the bed. Idiot idiot idiot.

Y/N had started working at the shop next door a nearly a year ago now, replacing the previous manager who had come into Sirius & James’ café every morning and complained that their service was too slow. She’d come in and introduced herself, and Sirius dropped a whole tray of saltshakers across the floor. He wasn’t quite sure what it was that made him so nervous. Maybe it was way her smile took over her whole face, crinkling her nose and making her eyes close-up slightly and her dimples show. Or the parade of brightly coloured coats she seemed to own that seemed to both clash and go with what she was wearing all at once. Or when he’d asked her about her favourite books and her eyes lit up like a child and her voice got louder and louder when she spoke about her favourite characters. Or perhaps it was because she was god damned pretty.

Sirius groaned into his pillow as James called out that food had arrived, joining him on the couch in silence. After a moment, James turned to face Sirius, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Do you… do you think that Lily actually likes me… just like, as a person?” James said earnestly.

“I…” Sirius was thrown a little of guard, a spoonful of dahl still in his mouth. He swallowed quickly, “I mean, yeah, I think so. I think she just doesn’t really like when you act like a twat around her.”

“Mm,” James turned back to his food, looking pensive. Sirius thumbed the spoon he was holding a little awkwardly.

“You just need to stop harassing her, act like a normal human being. She always watches you with other customers, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, I’m not going to make shit up to make you feel better,” Sirius gave him a smile, shoving him slightly.

“Y/N watches you too you know. When you’re making her coffee, she basically can’t take her eyes off you.”

“Mm,” Sirius kept his face neutral but could feel his heart rate spiking.

“Anyway, want to play FIFA?”

The next morning snow had begun to fall heavily, wind banging against the windows of James and Sirius’ apartment. James was huddled around a bowl of hot porridge as Sirius came into the kitchen to grab some breakfast before they made their way to the café.

“Are people even going to come today, it’s so bloody cold,” James groaned, watching the snow fall outside the window.

“You know it will be stupidly busy,” Sirius muttered, rubbing his eyes. He felt like he’d barely slept, going over what he could have said, should have said, to Y/N. James groaned again, leaning back into their large brown armchair.

The snow had become slush, and made what was normally a 5-minute walk, 15. Reaching the corner of the street Sirius noticed a small figure huddled out the front of the café, wrapped in a large deep red coat, head dipped to avoid the wind. When the figure noticed the two boys, they looked up, giving them a warm smile and making Sirius want to melt into the pavement once he realised it was Y/N.

“Hey!” She called out, standing up and brushing the snowflakes off her shoulders. James pushed Sirius in front of him as they reached the front door.

“Uh, hey! What are you doing here? I mean, not in a bad way, it’s great that you’re here, but like it’s cold a-“Sirius shut up with another kick from James.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve been locked out,” she grimaced, dancing on the spot a little to keep warm as James unlocked the door. Sirius had the urge to wrap his arms around her. James pushed the door open and let her in with a smile, turning into a go and fucking talk to her glare when Sirius reached the doorway.

“What happened?” Sirius gave James a scowl in response and followed Y/N into the café.

“The lovely owner decided to change all the locks last night. She said there would be a spare key in the letterbox but there is nothing,” Y/N huffed, pulling off her coat and gloves, rubbing her hands together to warm them up, “I’m so glad you guys are here early, I have to wait for her to come in and knowing her it will be at least another hour.”

“You’re lucky it’s snowing out, we normally leave a lot later,” James grinned at her, pushing Sirius over from the coffee machine so that he could make her coffee and force Sirius into talking instead.

“That’s why I’m here early too, anticipated falling over at least 4 times on the way over,” Y/N turned her smile on Sirius, her y/e/c eyes gazing into his.

“So, you, uh, live near here as well then?”

“Yeah! Just around the corner, moved closer when I got the job. Where do you live?”

“About three blocks away, with James.”

“Oh wow, what’s it like working and living together?” Y/N laughed, and Sirius’ stomach jolted.

“Haven’t killed him yet, so not awful,” Sirius grinned back at her, leaning against the counter.

“I just moved into a place by myself, I’m still not sure if I like having no roommates or not, but at least I’m not cleaning every fucking afternoon,” She shook her head, turning her smile on James as he handed her the mug of coffee.

“You’re telling me! This one doesn’t know how to do his own laundry,” Sirius pointed at James who looked affronted.

“What! How old are you? How can you not know how to do laundry!” Y/N’s smile grew wider as they fell into easy conversation about James’ lack of ability to function without his family.

A loud alarm went off on Sirius’ phone, making both Sirius and Y/N jump.

“Oh shit, we need to open shop,” Sirius swore, rushing to grab the coffee from the storeroom as James finished setting up each table and swung around the open sign.

Lily was the first through the door, grumbling about being stuck in the cold for an extra 2 minutes than she’d planned this morning. She stopped short when she saw Y/N sitting on the counter, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Hello there,” Lily dropped her bag next to Y/N and held out a hand, “I’m Lily.”

“Oh, Y/N. Are you a regular here?” Y/N glanced at Sirius who had stared on Lily’s order and nodded.

“You could say that, so you’re the Y/N who works across the road yes? At the bookstore?”

“Uh, yes,” Y/N breathed out a laugh, “Have you been in before?”

“Once or twice,” Lily gave Sirius a mischievous smile, ignoring his eyes flashing at her.

Sirius went to interrupt them but a line had formed behind the counter and the first customer had begun tapping obnoxiously on the linoleum floors.

“Sorry, been a bit of a mess this morning, what can I get for you?”

The morning rush, as Sirius predicted, was worse than usual, with many people using their café as an excuse to get out of the cold for a few minutes. Sirius watched out of the corner of his eye Y/N and Lily continue to chat, giggling to each other every few minutes. He felt sick, what was she telling her.

Finally, the crowd eased, and Sirius turned back to where Y/N and Lily had been sitting to find some excuse to steal Y/N away, but she was gone. He stared at the spot momentarily, Lily having already pulled out her laptop and was tapping away aggressively, before he heard a small cough in front of him.

“Sirius?” Y/N had pulled on her coat and was standing in front of him.

“Oh hey, I thought you’d left-“But Y/N interrupted before Sirius could embarrass himself further.

“Lily was telling me that you were having trouble finding a new book to read, you should come by after work, I’ll grab you some new books,” Y/N smiled brightly, grabbing her coat and waving goodbye to James.

“Oh, yeah, that sounds good,” Sirius beamed, waving her off into the snow. His heart was in his throat. What just happened?

“Success!” Lily looked over her laptop, having obviously just eaves dropped on their entire conversation, grinning at him.

“What did you do?”

“Exactly what she said, that you were looking for a good read,” Lily shrugged, “It’s really not that hard when she’s so clearly into you.”

Sirius scowled at her but couldn’t help feeling a slightly bit grateful for her intervention.

“Also, where’s James today? He hasn’t annoyed me once, I was worried he might have died,” Lily returned to her laptop, but Sirius was sure he didn’t miss the flush that hit her cheeks.

“Oh, he’s around, perhaps he’s realised you’re not interested,” Sirius winked at her.

The rest of the day seemed to drag, each minute to 6pm ticking along so slowly Sirius swore that the clocks had stopped multiple times throughout the day. Finally, the last customer had left, and Sirius had begun biting his nails whilst he wiped the counter down again.

“Oh my god, go Sirius, before you go insane,” James grabbed the towel from his hands and swapped it with his trenchcoat, “Come on.”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius swatted him away, pulling on the coat, pausing when he reached the door, “Are you sure you can close down everything by yourself?”

“Stop stalling you freak, go.”

Sirius gave him a grimace as James gave him the finger and indicated for him to leave again. Wrapping the Trenchcoat around himself he stepped into the bracing wind, watching carefully for cars before running across the road to Grub Street Books. The lights were still on, but Y/N had turned the open sign around to deter any customers. He knocked on the door, feeling supremely awkward about knocking on the door of a store, watching as Y/N looked up from what she was reading and smiled, bounding down from the sales desk to meet him.

“You came!” She ushered him in, closing the door quickly to keep out the cold.

“Well you know, can’t turn down free books,” Sirius breathed out a laugh watching her move back to the desk.

“Who said they were free?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I just presumed, I – “

“I’m kidding,” Y/N laughed, and Sirius felt himself let go of the breath he was holding. Get a grip, Black.

“Sorry, I’m a bit all over the place today,” He met her at the desk, “So what books can you recommend me?”

“Well I might need a bit of help on your end, given there’s about 20 billion books out there. What are you into?”

“Thrillers, mostly. A bit of sci-fi?” Sirius pulled a hand through his hair, enjoying watching Y/N’s eyes trail his hands before meeting his.

“Ok, I can work with that, give me a second,” She slipped away towards the bookshelves, humming something Sirius couldn’t quite make out. Sirius leaned against the counter, trying to avoid biting his nails. The store was small, but in a quaint way that felt like you could sit in the corner and read for hours without realising it. Sirius had only been in a few times, given that the previous manager was a dick, and his working hours usually overlapped, but he noticed that Y/N had put up a couple of large posters of classic rock bands along the walls.

“So, there’s three I can think of right now that I reckon, you’ll like,” Y/N came out of the shadows holding three, very large books.

“Three is plenty, I’m a very slow reader,” Sirius grinned as she came and displayed them in front of him, standing by his side. Sirius couldn’t help but wonder how easy it would be to just slip his hand on the small of her back, or into her fingers. He could feel her body heat radiating into his shoulder, her hair inches away from his.

“Well I’ve read this one,” She pointed to the largest, a book called Dune with a sunset colour across the front cover, “it is quite long because it’s like multiple books in one? But definitely worth the read.”

She turned to gauge his reaction, her face suddenly inches from his. Sirius swallowed hard, desperately trying to avoid glancing down at her perfectly shaped, soft pink lips…

“Uh, yeah… that one sounds… good,” Sirius breathed out slowly, still watching her closely. Y/N hadn’t moved either, keeping her eyes latched on his. Fuck it.

He leaned slightly closer, his heartbeat getting louder and louder in his chest as he breathed in the smell of her shampoo and watched her inch close to him as well. His hand crept around her hips and pulled her in suddenly, pressing his lips softly against hers. She leaned into him, placing her arms around his neck as they moved slowly together.

Sirius pulled away first, feeling exceedingly giddy, looking down at her with a goofy smile.

“I was sort of hoping you would do that,” She breathed out, smiling up at him as well.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I was worried I’d have to get out the mistletoe,” Y/N smirked, still leaning in close to his chest.

“I actually have something else I wanted to ask you,” Sirius murmured, loving the feeling of her stomach pressed up against him, his arms around her waist.

“Is that so?”

“Did you want to get dinner sometime?”

“No.”

“Oh, I- “

“Not some time, what about tonight,” Y/N bit her lip, still smirking at him.

“Give me a heart attack why don’t you,” Sirius closed his eyes, shaking his head at her as he barked out a laugh.

“So, you free?”

“As a bird.”

“You definitely need to read more if that’s what you’re going with,” Y/N laughed again, a little nervously. Sirius wanted to revel in it, the slight hitch in her breathing as she looked up at him.

“You’re probably right.” Sirius wasn’t smiling now, but watching her, standing in front of him.

“What?”

“Nothing, you’re just… very beautiful.”

Y/N flushed a bright red.

“Well that’s a bit better,” She ducked her head, but Sirius lifted up again with his hand and leaned in to kiss her once more.

“So, dinner?” He said softer now, his forehead leaning against hers.

“Dinner.”

Taglist:  @averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana​ @avengersassemblee​ @maraudersandco​ @sly-vixen-up2nogood​ @katbernoulli @sirius-lysad​ @evyiione​ @minerva26love​ @aikeia​ @gollyderek​ @greatwombatblaze​  @songforhema​  @your-typical-giggle @myownviperroom

Advent taglist: @maraudersandco @gollyderek

[llucy-san]

OC Mannerisms

tagged by my lovely friends @risenlucifer @faithchel​ thank you beauties, ❤️❤️ and maybe somebody else but tumblr won't show it to me. 🤷‍♀️

@ja-crispea @nightwingshero @dieguzguz @pd3 @v3ryvelvet @fromathelastoveritaserum @chazz-anova @chyrstis @tommymillers @tomexraider @smithandrogers @f0xyboxes @fadedjacket @deathvalleyqueen @lobanhart @goodboiboomer-fc5 @geronimo-11 @gracethornwood @xbaebsae sorry for double tagg, no obligation just have fun with your own unique characters. 😘❤️

Hayley Moore

how the smile

~ gentle smile at the corners of her lips

~ infections laughter

~ endless giggling after few drink at the gathering where she can relax and be herself

what their "tells" is for lying

~ Hayley is not good to be two-faced, and especially in front of her loved ones because they know her body language and they know that something is wrong

~ lack of eye contact, she usually look at anything else in the room but at the person. She is trying to find the best possible connection to her story just to make it sound as good as possible.

posture

~ she cares about her figure because her character and style of dress reflects her name and career

~ the most common is white blouses with black pencil skirts and heels but if she doesn't have to dress properly she likes to wear comfortable clothes such as shirts, hoodies

~ hair down or in bun

standing: shoulders back, chest pushed forward, head high, hands usually locked behind her back or in front while she's holding another one of her documents for her cases

sitting: back pressed against couch while reading or watching a good movie or book and eating something good

~ cuddling with her husband late in the evenings, these are the moments she values the most because only then are they truly alone and no one disturbs them

volume of speech, if they're verbal

~ as the southern girl, she speaks feverishly and melodiously with slight accent (french is her mother language)

~ raises her voice only when she is hurt and agitated, speaks really fast, breathing quicken and very often slipping into her southern new orleans accent

~ soflty whisper only in the morning when she finds herself day after day in the arms of her husband who does not want to let her go. "No, it's too early, sweetpie, stay or I'll make you and you know I'll. Choice is yours."

nervous tics

~ turning off and turning on pen against desk, tapping with her nails against any surface

~ pacing back and forth

~ running her nails through her hair

~ spinning her wedding ring

how much eye contact do they make

~ always makes eye contact, the only time she breaks it is when she's lying or flirts or tease

in group conversation, how close do they stand to others? Are they off to the side just listening and occasionally speaking or are they right next to people?

~ Hayley does not cross the personal space, but the time with her husband taught her a thing or two

~ she gently place her hand on their shoulder and lean closer (depending on the relationship)

when standing, what do they do with their hands? talk with their hands, cross their arms, put hands in pockets, prop up against the wall, etc

~ in morning, it's most common cup of black coffee

~ gestures with her hands while talking

~ see postures

the sound of their footsteps

~ if she's in her converse she is pretty silent, long and steady strides

~ if she's in her heels, her arrival is perceptible, she moves with elegance and ease

nonverbal greetings: do they wave, nod, hug, glare, punch, high five, something else?

~ most often address verbally

~ her husband with gentle kiss on cheek or the lips, which John almost always will go after her to show her his own affections

~ Jacob’s like her older brother she never had, and she likes to joke with him. The have very close relationship (brother and sister relationship)

how do they get other's attention? raise hand, clear throat, etc

~ she doesn't need to get other's attention because she always gets it with her charm

Hope Lansdowne

how the smile

~ soflty with the dimples in her cheeks, she smiles when she relaxed for a bit and doesn't have to deal with the problems that await her every day

~ loud and infections laughter with head tilted back and holding her abdomen (most often due to Sharky or Hurk)

what their "tells" is for lying

~ she is very good at fooling people, even the best who try to release even the slightest secret from her will fail. Hope can look in the eye of the person she's talking to and lie, tell him the exact opposite

~ however, her closest friends know her very well and know how her body language. They know when she is trying to hide something from them. Her brother is the one who can read her the most, and vice versa.

posture

~ general: physically in the best condition. Even though she is not tall, she can easily deal with a man a head taller than herself and put him on the ground. Training and the military taught her how to survive in the worst situations. Hair usually wears in ponytail or bun and she only wears pants and t-shirts because she despises to dressing up like a lady in a dress

standing: shoulders pushed back, head titled aside or held high, hands most often hovering over her knife or loosely folded behind her back

sitting: leaning against the couch or loveseat and sitting on her feet and enjoying the good company of her friends and family

~ legs crossed in Indian style and bent over the work that usually takes all her attention.

volume of speech, if they're verbal

~ gentle voice, light with a bit of an accent

~ raises her voice when she is angry and lets herself be carried away by her temperament and heat. Her eyes are sharply pierced in the eyes of the person she's arguing with, breathing hard and says everything she was bottling inside all this time, the things she'd rather not say

nervous tics

~ stomping her with her feet impatiently

~ biting her lips or the inside of her cheeks

~ unable to sit still, she has to do something to occupy herself

how much eye contact do they make

~ always makes eye contact. It depends mainly in what situation she finds herself, whether she threatenes and plays with fire while standing close to her enemy or when she flirts and then comes the moment when she breaks her eye contact

in group conversation, how close do they stand to others? Are they off to the side just listening and occasionally speaking or are they right next to people?

~ she has her own style

~ Hope most often breaks the rules and crosses the boundaries of personal space to show intimacy (lover) or intimidation - laying a hand on shoulder or arm, face - draw the line of jaw this is the time when she breaks eye contact to follow her finger with her eyes

~ but when she starts a very interesting conversation, she prefers to stay in the background and listen to everything they talk about and consider what she could use to her advantage

when standing, what do they do with their hands? talk with their hands, cross their arms, put hands in pockets, prop up against the wall, etc

~ arms crossed her chest while leaning on against wall or tree or playing with a knife while making small gestures

the sound of their footsteps

~ as a soldier, she was taught to walk silently and easily so no one would notice her. She doesn't like to wear heel because a) she doesn't know how to walk in that things, and b) she prefers to wear converse or her combat boots in which she feels most comfortable

~ her steps are long and brisk when she wants them to be and moves with ease

nonverbal greetings: do they wave, nod, hug, glare, punch, high five, something else?

~ it depends on who the person is and what bond she has with them. She most often welcomes friends with open arms, enemies with a knife at their necks and lovers in her own way

how do they get other's attention? raise hand, clear throat, etc

~ she doesn't like to be centrum of attention, but when she needs to, she speaks out loud and almost every time with a sarcastic undertone, such as when she came to Jacob’s office when Alexis ( one of his judge trainer) was occupying his office and Hope came in.

"I saw the door open and, oh, and I though I would see a half naked judge trainer, seems I gambled and lost."

"Few minutes ago I was fully naked."

"Ou, then you've served your purpose! Don't let me hold you up!"

They don't like each other very much

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Fu Manchu

(WARNING! This analysis contains DISCUSSIONS OF OUTDATED RACIST STEREOTYPES! This analysis does not support or condone such things whatsoever and merely is here to analyze the cultural impact of the character!)

"Imagine a person, tall, lean, and feline, high-shouldered, with a brow like Shakespeare and a face like Satan, a close-shaven skull, and long, magnetic eyes of the true cat-green. Invest him with all the cruel cunning of an entire Eastern race, accumulated in one giant intellect, with all the resources, if you will, of a wealthy government—which, however, already has denied all knowledge of his existence. Imagine that awful being, and you have a mental picture of Dr. Fu-Manchu, the yellow peril incarnate in one man."

— The Mystery of Dr. Fu-Manchu (1913)

I think it really goes without saying that the late 19th century and early 20th century were deeply, incredibly racist. One such manifestation of the racism and xenophobia of the times was the villainous archetype known as the Yellow Peril. The so-called “Yellow Peril” is a caricature of eastern cultures, portrayed in a villainous light; the characters are diabolical criminal masterminds who tend to be geniuses, know kung fu, have mystical powers, command barbarian hordes, and dress like the most stereotypical dynastic noble you could imagine. Just think of every single cringeworthy Asian stereotype you can imagine, stuff it into one villainous package, and BOOM! You have yourself a Yellow Peril villain.

You’ve most definitely seen villains that fit some semblance of this trope. Lo Pan of Big Trouble in Little China and Long Feng from Avatar: The Last Airbender are notable examples (and ones that aren’t particularly problematic, as their works don’t rely on some white guy saving the day and instead have Asian heroes). But we’re not here to talk about them, oh no – we’re here to talk about the grandaddy of them all, the villain who codified the idea of a Yellow Peril villain to such… er, for lack of a better word, “perfection,” that even though he has somewhat faded from the public consciousness he has managed to continue inspiring villains up until the present day: Fu Manchu.

While not the first Yellow Peril villain, he is pretty much the face of it. He is what comes to mind when you envision such a villain, which may be because his cultural impact runs so deep – characters such as Batman’s nemesis Ra’s al-Ghul, the Iron Man foe The Mandarin, and James Bond baddie Doctor No among many others all draw inspiration from this legendary Devil Doctor. So what exactly is his deal that has made him such a problematic icon?

Motivation/Goals: So Fu Manchu’s goals started with him being a Chinese nationalist but eventually he moved into your standard world domination, with him developing over time into becoming a sort of noble criminal, a diabolical mastermind with some level of ethics, class, and standards; the man sent his nemesis gifts on his wedding day and always stuck to his word. This doesn’t seem like much now, but you gotta remember, this guy was one of the first big literary supervillains; you’ve gotta cut him a little slack.

Performance: So it is time to discuss the elephant in the room… not once in his long and storied history in film has Fu Manchu been portrayed by an actor of Chinese, Japanese, Korean, or Indian descent. Fu Manchu has always, always been portrayed by the worst possible option in every single case: a white guy in yellow face. Christopher Lee is perhaps the most well-known white man to play him in a serious work, portraying him in a series of films, though Boris Karloff portrayed him as well. 

Peter Sellers portrayed Fu in his last major cinematic appearance, though unlike most other examples that film – The Fiendish Plot of Dr. Fu Manchu – was a parody, which does at least take away a little bit of the bad taste.

The only valid white man portrayal is, of course, from the fake trailer for Werewolf Women of the S.S. As said fake trailer is a ridiculous sendup of exploitation films and trashy cinema in general, the inclusion of a white man playing the fiendish doctor is pretty much part of the joke – but it’s who they got that’s the real treat. We’ll get to that shortly, but before that…

It is honestly really disgusting that in the long history of this character, he has never once been portrayed by an Asian actor. You’d think at some point that someone might at least just cast any sort of Asian due to the unfortunate tendency to view Asian actors as interchangeable, but they couldn’t even do that.

Final Fate: Fu Manchu is notable because he always gets away, even if his plans are foiled; in fact, he’ll sometimes have plans within plans, so even when he loses, he still wins to some degree. But enough about his in-universe fate; let’s talk about the real world fate of the character, where Fu Manchu has a very odd legal status in terms of public domain.

While the first three books are in the public domain, some characters from later books are not considered part of the public domain, which has lead to situations such as Marvel’s Master of Kung Fu not being able to be reprinted for years. On top of this, as the character’s creator Sax Rohmer died in 1959, Fu Manchu is not in the public domain in Europe; this has led to him appearing but not being directly named in Alan Moore’s The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, where he is only referred to as “The Doctor” (amusingly, he goes up against Moriarty in that comic, the character he draws inspiration from).

Best Scene: In what is one of the very few non-offensive uses of the character, Fu Manchu is given a brief cameo in the trailer for Werewolf Women of the S.S. that shows up in the Rodriguez/Tarantino double feature Grindhouse, and he’s played by… well… just watch:

Final Thoughts & Score: Fu Manchu is an absolutely fascinating villain born out of incredibly problematic places.

There is absolutely no denying that Fu Manchu was created from a deeply racist place. It’s an unavoidable fact. There is no getting around it. Fu Manchu as a character was meant to demonize the Chinese, to the point where production of films based on him as well as the novels was halted in times of war when the Chinese were allies. These books, these stories, are all extremely problematic by the standards of today.

But with that being said… who, exactly, is the title character? Do you know, without looking it up, who the hero who Fu Manchu antagonizes is, the Holmes to his Moriarty? This is Fu Manchu’s series, and throughout it he projects an air of intelligence, sophistication, and even honor that you wouldn’t expect would be afforded to a character such as him. As far as racist propaganda goes, an extremely charitable person could be able to call this “progressive” in some regard. Positive discrimination is a step up from regular discrimination, right? Again, there’s really no getting around the glaring problems with the character and his origins, but the fact Fu Manchu is one of the first supercriminals in literature and manages to just be unflinchingly cool to the point where you’ll probably end up rooting for him over the bland white protagonists says something for how utterly racism fails when it manages to make the object of its derision infinitely cooler than the race it’s trying to prop up as superior.

By my own criteria, Fu Manchu could only be an 11/10. I can’t deny how much of an impact, for better or for worse, the fiendish doctor has had on pop culture, to the point where he gave his name to and subsequently killed off a variety of facial hair, a feat only matched by Hitler. But this comes with a disclaimer: I cannot stress enough that Fu Manchu is deeply and inherently problematic on a conceptual level, and that despite how genuinely cool and fascinating he is in the right hands it doesn’t and cannot erase that his original purpose was to demonize the Chinese and Asian cultures. He also managed to help perpetuate yellowface and helped to popularize cliches that have plagued Asian villains to this day. While many in his wake have still managed to be cool and engaging in their own right, it really cannot be said how this character has a very complex history. Has he done more bad than good? That’s not for a white guy like me to determine; I’m merely here to determine the overall quality of the villain and determine their impact, and Fu Manchu undeniably has impacted culture. It would be wrong and disingenuous to break my own rules to give him a lower rating due to his problematic elements, but at the same time I cannot sit here and pretend they do not exist.

I would love to see the day where Fu Manchu can be reclaimed to some extent. Look at Shang-Chi, for example; the (at this time) upcoming Marvel film is set to feature the Fu Manchu-inspired Mandarin as a major character, and he is set to be played by Tony Leung Chiu-wai, a Hong Kong actor. If one of the characters inspired by him can get portrayed by an Asian actor, perhaps someday in the future Fu Manchu can be reclaimed from his racist origins and given the respectful treatment he deserves. Fu Manchu is a character that is in many ways accidentally incredible and iconic. Born from horrendous racism, and yet the racist screeds depicting him always somehow manage to prop him up as the best character in the lot… it’s the paradox of racist thought, to go so far in demonizing their target they manage to make them more interesting and engaging than the generic protagonists. Fu Manchu is a truly great villain mired in the problems of the time he was created; in the right hands, great work could be done with him.

Bottom line is: Rob Zombie, get Nicolas Cage on the phone and start filming Werewolf Women of the S.S.

[peterstanslizzie]

Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 2.4 (El Oro De Montezuma)

Verdict- Arroz Con Leche: 1, Lizzie Mcguire: 0 

- Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda have their eyes glued to the television because Miranda’s cousin from Mexico, Carlos is supposed to appear on a Mexican game show with his friends next week. Jo sees this and encourages the kids to go out and do something more active/productive but shortly after, she becomes enthralled by the quirkiness of the show. 

I can’t tell if they like what they’re watching or not lol

Lost in Translation

- There’s a new kid in school and his name is Li Torak, from Indonesia. Because of my Malaysian heritage, I know a thing or two about Indonesia and Li doesn’t look Indonesian to me. He looks really young too, almost around the age of Matt when in actuality, Raja is only a year younger than Hilary and Lalaine. It’s probably because he’s a boy and maybe it’s his Asian genes hehe. Lizzie tries to break the ice with Li but there’s a language barrier and he misunderstands majority of the things Lizzie is asking him.

* I just did my research and Holy Cow! The actor who played Li is Raja Fenske, who also played Jake Behari on Nickelodeon’s Unfabulous! I totally didn’t expect that. I haven’t watched Unfabulous in ages and I kinda forgot how he looked like. That’s so cool. Oh and if my research findings are accurate, he doesn’t have any Indonesian ancestry as I’ve predicted. In fact, his mom is Indian and his dad is German and Norwegian. 

- Mr. Dig is teaching a class that puts a spotlight on other cultures and introduces to his students a “Lip Stretcher” that the Suya Indian men from the Amazon River used to pull their lower lips out as a way to attract mates I think? That’s interesting. He goes on to explain the various other cultures’/countries’ standards of beauty, which are very foreign to them. 

If Gordo weren’t a director, he should’ve been a comedian because he went in on Larry here. 

- Mr. Dig then uses this as an opportunity to formally introduce Li to everyone in class. And once again, he struggles to comprehend what’s being asked of him. Okay, I need to be honest here and say this; The way Raja is trying to sound like an Indonesian is just not working for me. He couldn’t even pronounce “Indonesia” correctly like a true native he’s meant to portray. The accent is way off; It’s actually very cringe-worthy.

- Anyways; back to the plot. Mr. Dig asks his students to write a report on either their own culture or another culture and include what people can learn from it. 

The First Mention of Mexico City (fans of Lizzie Mcguire know what that means)

- Back at home, Lizzie asks her parents about where she came from and her parents funnily misunderstands her question and thought it was a Biology question lol. Obviously, what she meant to ask was where did their ancestors originate from in Europe most probably. We find out that Sam’s family is Scottish and Irish and Jo’s family originated from a bunch of other European countries. This makes it harder for Lizzie since there’s so many countries to choose from. 

- At the Digital Bean, Miranda re-introduces her cousin, Carlos to Lizzie and Gordo. He greets Lizzie with a couple of kisses on both cheeks:

- He also tries to give Gordo the same but he’s not down for the friendly kisses lol. I wonder if Gordo felt some type of way to see another guy “kiss” Lizzie even if it’s a friendly one. Especially coming from last episode when he saw Lizzie and Ronnie kiss for real. 

- Miranda tells them that’s what people do in Mexico City and I gotta say, the words “Mexico City” triggered me because that was the excuse we got in like the last 10 episodes (plus the movie) of Lizzie Mcguire to explain Miranda’s absence from the show lol. 

- Miranda then reveals to her friends that Carlos’s teammates cancelled on him to go to their sister’s wedding, which is a good excuse but Carlos doesn’t seem to think so lol. Eventually, Lizzie and Gordo agree to be their replacements due to the financial benefit they would get if they win. It always comes down to the Benjamins I see. Plus, Lizzie sees this as an opportunity to help her with Mr. Dig’s assignment. They feel like if Carlos and to a lesser extent, Miranda could translate for them, they would be able to do the stunts on the show just fine. 

- We then get a montage of them doing a practice run through some of the games featured on the show. Gordo also insists that they learn some Spanish as well. As I’ve been learning Spanish on Duolingo for almost a year now, I’m proud to say I was able to translate most of the phrases Gordo read out loud.  

 I LOL’ed at this moment. Why he gotta look at them like that? 

- Lizzie thinks that they should focus on perfecting the games rather than trying to learn Spanish to which they all agree. But really? They don’t know what “bueno” means? Don’t they live in California? They should’ve know that word at the very least... C’mon now. 

Let The Games Begin

- It’s now time for the game show and the host introduces Carlos, Miranda, Lizzie and Gordo on stage. Wait, where is this game show held? Is it where they live in the US or did they all fly to Mexico?

- The first round is trivia and Miranda manages to win the first point. The next round is popping as many balloons as possible between their chests but we don’t know who won that. And after that, it’s them trying to seek out different items of clothing to dress their teammate in a bull-fighter’s costume. 

The last clue is getting a hat from the bottom box but unfortunately Lizzie wasn’t careful enough, which led to a whole stack of boxes to crash on top of her lol. But they still manage to win that round fortunately and their team is able to advance to the last round.

- In this round, Lizzie gets picked to designate roles to each of her team members. Unfortunately, she accidentally assigns Carlos to be the Aztec bird snake gut, which means that he has to sit out that round. The host gives them the instructions in Spanish and with Carlos having to be inside a soundproof box, they have no idea what they’re supposed to do.

- I was able to understand a couple of phrases like “tienen arroz con leche” and “cuaranta y cinco segundos”, which I’m confident it means “they have rice with milk (rice pudding I guess)” and “they have 45 seconds to do something” respectively. I didn’t catch the building a pyramid part just because I don’t know what pyramid is in Spanish lol. I did a quick Google search and it’s just pirámide but I don’t think I heard the host saying that word.

- They obviously misunderstood the instructions and did something completely wrong, which is putting the rice pudding into the boxes and jumping over them at the same time. Gordo, who is usually the brains of the operation thinks that they should eat the rice pudding and he proceeds to happily eat it lol. 

- They try to think of one last solution and Lizzie decides to throw the rice pudding into the boxes with her bare hands but she accidentally splashes some of it onto Miranda’s face. Next to you know, they’re throwing rice pudding left and right at each other and the whole audience goes wild. Well, that’s one way to end the show but I’m pretty sure they lost.

Presentation Time

- It’s time for them to present their report on a culture of their choice in Mr. Dig’s class. Gordo does his on Mehndi tattoos from India; I actually thought he would talk about some aspects from his own Jewish culture. As for Lizzie, she tells the class that after her whole experience of being lost in translation in that Mexican game show she and her friends participated in, she felt like she needed to learn about other cultures so that she can understand those around her who are not like her. 

Oh gosh; His accent again. It’s so not Indonesian. 

- Anyways, Lizzie decides to focus her presentation on Indonesian culture. This should be good....

- Umm, Jakarta is not an island Lizzie....It’s the capital city of Indonesia and the island it sits on is called Java. *facepalms. The presentation was obviously cut short due to time constraints of the episode but they could have done more to fit in more insightful stuff into her presentation. I’m really disappointed. 

Matt’s B-Plot: It’s More Like A C-Plot....

- Matt and Lanny have pretty much been playing hide and go seek throughout the whole episode. And that’s about it really. It’s nothing extraordinary except for the fact that they kinda went overboard with it and continued the game outside Matt’s home. 

Is this safe for a child lol?

- However, what I like about this sub-plot is seeing how sassy Lanny is. The episode ends with Matt winning the hide and seek contest but to his own detriment because he decided to hide in a train, which started moving while Lanny eats pizza with Matt’s parents. Wow, his parents are going to get the ultimate headache from trying to find out where in the world Matt is. 

Overall Thoughts

- Let’s get the negatives out of the way first; Raja Fenske’s portrayal of Li as a student from Indonesia was pretty weak I have to say. And it wasn’t really his fault. I’m sure somebody had given him directions on how to sound like an Indonesian and he had to follow it. Like I mentioned earlier, I don’t think Raja is any part Indonesian and so, he probably couldn’t tell what should have sounded authentic. I felt like Disney should’ve cast someone Indonesian or part Indonesian to avoid all of this. Also, I must repeat the point I made about them saying that Jakarta is an island, which is totally wrong. The writers should have done their research.

- But I appreciate them for making the attempt to shine a spotlight on how ignorant we can be when it comes to understanding and respecting other people’s cultural differences. At the beginning of the episode, Lizzie was obviously taken aback and amused by Li’s inability to understand what she was trying to ask him because she has never been in his position before. 

- It was not until she participated in “El Oro de Montezuma”, she’d realized that being immersed in a new environment with a completely different culture from what she’s used to is extremely hard. And because of that, she was able to empathize with Li and show Li that she wants to respect and get to know his Indonesian culture, which is why she decided to make her presentation on Indonesia instead.

- Long story short; The lessons taken from the episode were great but the execution of Li’s character was meh. 

[guileheroine]

a morning in may

Lyra begins an important day with an unplanned visit to the Botanic Garden. / A His Dark Materials ficlet written for the 2020 Just Married Exchange 🌼 / 1.5k / ao3

At first, Lyra’s soon-to-be-groom had wanted to get married on Midsummer’s Day. At the instant of his suggestion, Lyra had known that that was going to be the one exception to her rather nonchalant approach to this whole wedding business. If he was surprised to see Pan stiffen halfway to the butter dish - to see Lyra’s face become strange, instead of supplying another nod of assent or amiable shrug - he didn’t show it. And he knew not to probe, and the rest of their afternoon passed like an easy breeze.

That was something she truly liked - alright, loved even - about him.

Today the sunlight was pouring like it was already mid-morning, and even if she had slept at all, Lyra thought she would probably still have woken at the crack of dawn. She was glad to see that Pan, at least, had gotten some rest for the both of them. The moment he was up, she leapt out of bed and threw on a linen scrap of a dress, sparing a brief glance to the much fancier one that hung portentously from her wardrobe, Coptic cotton trimmed with yards of eyelet lace.

She was out before she knew why. The High Street was deserted: the kind of silent emptiness under blaring yellow sun that never failed to remind her of Cittagazze, even though she had since travelled to many a sultry city where the streets cleared out by midday.

The only warden at the Botanic Garden was dozing in his uniform. Not wanting to wake him, Lyra crept down Rose Lane instead and swung over one of the fences, following Pan’s lead. The floral cocktail that enveloped her as she did was buoyed by the cooked air of the morning, and as she walked she went over the order of the flowers for the ceremony in her head. Then she stopped and breathed deeply when a new smell entered and dominated the notes - a shrub that she always passed on the short walk to the back of the garden. One Midsummer’s Day many years ago, Lyra had swept some of the fallen flowers on her way to the bench, had gone to sleep talking to Will, and awoken after dark, steeped in the scent. She searched for the plaque amongst the overgrown leaves the next day, and it said the flower was Indian jessamine.

Lyra crashed onto the bench. Then she sat up straight, her clammy hands fisted in the linen of her dress. And then, she wiped her hands and straightened her skirt, scuffing her foot against the leg of the bench. Now that they were here, the point of their coming could only stare her head on with an expectant sort of bluntness.

There was no reason for Will to be here today, so she really had come all for herself, as grim as that admission felt. Whatever, she knew that. Lyra exhaled, one hand cradling Pan as he burred in her lap.

“Will. I know it’s not Midsummer’s Day. But I’m getting married today.”

Once she reached a certain age, Lyra had become aware that she should expect to start hearing more cloaked questions about ‘her thoughts’ on marriage - if not a few outright proposals, whether on the asker’s own behalf or that of some eager acquaintance. Her college friends had learnt not to ask, having long cast Lyra - usually with a bit of disdain or envy, it had to be said - as someone too flighty for anything more than dalliances with foreign rogues (or local ones, who may as well have been foreign to the well-heeled St Sophia’s girls.) Funnily enough, very few of her more settled friends made mention of her romantic entanglements, probably because it was a subject too awkward to broach for the stodgy male scholars that this cohort mostly consisted of, many of whom were themselves bachelors, if not proud ones.

Amongst all her scholar friends, it was Hannah Relf - quite uncharacteristically considering her proud bachelor status, Lyra had thought, not a little miffed - that had nudged her gently about some boy she knew, a few years ago. She told Lyra that they should meet, and a little about what he did. “He’s new in town, that’s all, and he has some literary expertise that I thought might interest you,” she eventually stammered, once Lyra’s indisposition to the idea had been made apparent. She had plenty access to literary expertise of all kinds, thank you very much.

Maybe Hannah just thought Lyra was lonely. And when that thought finally occurred to her, walking home from Walton Street, hunched against the cutting chill, Lyra’s indignant gait loosened a little.

Anyway, that was how she first heard of Cador Bowman, though she didn’t meet him until a few months later.

That spring Lyra was reading about Celtish legends, obsessively following that call that sometimes came over her - when a subject of inquiry felt both familiar and strange, and gained an elusive, unquenchable appeal as a result. Lyra had come to collect a rare volume at a specialist bookstore down St Clement’s, and she had come herself in the rain rather than ordering it sent because she heard the store was operated by a Cornish folklorist of some repute.

It was only during a lull in their conversation about magic mist, as he flipped through the frighteningly papery pages with a practised balance of speed and caution, that Lyra’s thoughts found a moment to fall into place.

“Oh! Are you Hannah’s fairy guy?”

He was fairly startled at that, and his doe daemon furrowed her brow at Pan, but he confirmed that he knew her. After a few more stormy evenings in the bookshop discussing all manner of legends near and far, Lyra was fully prepared to whisk him off on some escapade where he might put all his knowledge to good use - this curious man whose curiosity could match hers, who treated wild rumours with the casual reverence that Lyra always knew, even before all her adventures, was the correct way to treat them.

“It’s like he’s been touched by something,” Lyra said, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder on one of those early days. She liked to think of herself in the same way.

“Yeah, by you,” Pan snorted.

Lyra was surprised to find that she didn’t bore of him. There was nothing dangerous about Cador Bowman, but he accorded the thrill of danger the utmost respect (even if he only liked it in theory) - something that made Lyra feel surprisingly understood.

She realised that he felt understood in turn when he brought up the topic of marriage one day. They were eating their lunch by the river while they planned a winter trip. He refused to be ashamed of his own tactlessness, though Winnie, his daemon (Lyra and Pan still could never remember how to pronounce her full Cornish name), pulled as far from them as possible, practically disappearing over the bank on her bony legs.

All this she recounted to Will on the bench.

“You would like him,” Lyra said. “He reminds me of you in some ways, quite a serious person all told. Not quite as brave - I’ve never met anyone as brave as you, Will - but, oh, he’d be the first to admit it...” She found herself laughing, flush with affection for both the boys in question.

“Anyway, it’s lucky we settled on today, because it’s not going to be fair weather for long…”

She told him about how she had it on the Gyptians’ word that half a year’s worth of rain would be upon them before the month was up. It was important to Lyra that they deemed the day she chose an auspicious day. As she spoke she remembered she still had to go collect the bells she wanted to wear in her hair - a Gyptian wedding tradition she had tucked in her mind ever since that furious week where she thought she might actually marry Dick Orchard one day. That fancy obviously passed, but she still wanted the bells... and she’d probably better hurry if she did.

It was odd to feel her mind straying, struggling for more to tell. On her usual trip to the garden, she had so much to say to Will. Maybe it just wasn’t the same, knowing that over in that world his own attention wasn’t hers today in the same way.

She’d be back next month, and then she could tell him how the wedding had actually gone.

Lyra found herself wondering, like she had many times, though she didn’t say it aloud: did Will ever want to get married -- had he already done so, perhaps? Did he have someone?

Unlike all the times before, she realised that she hoped he did. Not because it would assuage any remorse on her part, but truly because he deserved it - the same tentative anticipation she was awash with, now that she had voiced her choices to him.

“So that’s it, really. Wedding, this afternoon. I can’t say for certain that I know what I’m doing with all this but... I just wanted - I needed - to tell you about it, to make sure you were a part of my day today. And also to say that I’ll always love you, but I know you know that.”

On her way out of the garden, Lyra surreptitiously snatched one of the Indian jessamines off the bush, pocketing the flower for her bouquet.