#just like how i can see both sides of the vincent and lovely House Drama

[grilledcheezy92]

Honestly I can see both sides. I get how it's kind of a cop-out for a really cool sci-fi/futuristic storyline. I can see the potential in it.

I really enjoyed it because of HOW it was all a dream. I like the parallels it has with Sovreign State which is one of my favorite storylines.

be so honest rn do u like this plot twist

[who-ever-said-i-was-nice]

could we have mc falling down the stairs and getting a concussion with ikevamp pls?

I got ya! Sorry it took this long...

Comte

you where at a party with Comte

 while he talked to guests you excused yourself and walked outside

on the way out you  accidentally ran into a man

he helped you up, you apologized and continued walking

you reached the front door and stepped outside

suddenly a very angry lady burst outside and came right at you

“ Why where you talking to me husband!” you looked at her, a little confused

“ Well, I bumped into him and I had to apologize. That’s the right thing to do. Non?”

“ You’re lying!” “ Listen here I already have a boyfriend. And he’s the most loving, caring, kind-hearted, sweet person I have ever met! Why the hell would I go talking to your husband!” “ You lying little bi**h. I know you want to steal him away. I can’t let that happen. No hard feelings right?”

she looked at you, her words dripping with venom and before you could react she pushed you down the stairs.

you fell and hit your head hard  on one of the steps

you heard a commotion at the top of the stair and you where pretty sure you saw a golden figure bend over you, but you blacked out

when you woke up you realized you where back home in your bed

you looked over to your right and saw a very tired looking Comte smiling down at you

you felt guilty so you apologized

he combed your hair and reassured you that everything’s fine and he isn’t mad at you

he was super worried but he won’t let it show for your sake

Oh yessssss some nice juicy drama * faints because of my own work*

Leonardo

uuuuuuuh this man will have a heart attack

you where walking around town, when you came across this huge library

you were super exited about it so Leo decided to walk you around

you two had a blast

you where mesmerized at the millions of old books inside

When you found something interesting you would bounce up and down like the adorable little dork you where and Leo would chuckle, loving every second of it

when it was time to leave you skipped out followed by Leo

you where walking down the stairs explaining about modern libraries when you slipped and fell backwards hitting your head on the step

Leo couldn’t catch you

the last thing you remember is Leonardo’s worried face

you woke up in your bed

you looked around the room

suddenly you felt the blanket shift a bit

as you lifted it Lumiere crawled out

he nudged your cheek and curled up beside you

you pet him for a while and then got up

“ OUCh! Oh Cara mia you’re awake

yup he fell asleep right next to your bed on the floor

you giggled and gently tugged him up and into the bed

you cuddled for a solid 2 hours

Arthur

it was winter

you where walking home after a case

you where talking and laughing

but the ground was icy and as you where walking by the entrance to a building you pointed at something and accidentally slipped

Arthur was looking at what you pointed at when he heard a dull thump a groan and a horrible crack

he whirled around only to see you on the ground, knocked out and a small stream of blood was flowing from your cheek

he immediately scooped you up and ran, all the while beating himself up for not catching you

you woke up in your bed

Arthur was passed out on the bed next to you

you realized your head was bandaged, you had a band-aid on your cheek and your arm was in a sling

when he felt you stir Arthur woke up and hugged you

turns out you blocked most of the fall with your hand so you didn’t break your head, and managed to get away with a concussion, but your left arm payed the price because now it was broken

This doctor was worried sick

Theo

Theoooooo mah boi

you just finished up at one of Theo’s art exhibition? displays? showcases? i don’t know, just imagine the correct version here

he had just made a really good deal and he was visibly happy

you two chatted as you walked outside

as you reached the bottom and where standing there waiting for a carriage, a rabid dog jumped out of the bush and attacked you knocking you to the ground

Theo couldn’t catch you he was to busy getting the dog to leave

you hit your head on the last step really hard and within a few moments you lost conciseness

You woke up in your bed the next day (or so you thought)

Theo was sitting next to you holding your hand

he pulled you into a tight hug

“ Silly Y/N scarring me like this.”

you broke free from his bear hug, only to pull your lover into a passionate kiss

when you pulled away he stared  into your eyes

Theo’s not the type to convert his emotions into words he prefers actions and the way he’s looking at you now melts your heart and you know how much he worried about you

“Thank you for taking care of me Theo. I’m a little sleepy now but can you stay a while” he snorted “ Wasn’t  a day and a half enough for you” buuut he’s a cutie so he crawled into bed with you and held you close as you fell asleep

*Me writing a part for Theo*: yes yes let’s make Theo’s favorite animal into the villain of this. ok and then let’s traumatize him by making you sleep for a long time. AAAAHHHHAHAHAHA I’m so evil. Ok so now that i have that out of my system let’s make this the sappiest of them all. OML I LOVE HIM

Dazai

Dazai and you where walking from the gazebo after *caught* things *caught*

no I’m kidding you had a tea party and  made rhymes about little dolls and bird and playgrounds

you cute little dorks I love you so much

Sebas was watering the plants there a few minutes ago and it got onto the steppes

Dazai was busy making ridiculously stupid dad jokes and you where laughing your head off

sadly you didn’t notice the puddle and slipped on it banging your head on the step

the last thing you remember was Dazai wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up whispering “ I got you little bird”

you woke up in your bed in the evening

Dazai was right next to you stroking your hair

“ Good morning, Toshiko-san!” you couldn’t help but laugh

Dazai was worried about you but he likes to live his life by the saying: Laughter is the best medicine

Vincent

you when to a church because Vincent wanted to paint it

however once he finished most of it he decided it was missing something

something that could immediately turn any plain picture into a beautiful masterpiece

you 

he asked you to model and you gladly agreed

you sat on the steppes and let Vincent paint you

once he was finished you jumped up and started hurrying down the stairs to see how it looked

unfortunately you slipped on one of the worn down steps and fell back banging you head and blacking out

Vincent saw this and rushed up to you

he was beside himself

he already has trouble dealing with emotions, and he just saw your life flash before his eyes

baby boy is traumatized

he picked you up and since he couldn’t carry it ditched the paining and ran to the nearest carriage

you woke up with Vincent by your side

he held your hand and smiled gently

“You’re awake thank God!”

you asked about the painting and he said he just left it there

needles to say you felt horrible so you asked if you could go back

he laughed saying it’s probably gone but complied

surprisingly the painting was still there

Napoleon

you where fencing

it was all fun and games

you would try your best and Leon would disarm you with ease

sometimes he would let you win by dropping the foil very obviously and saying something stupid like Oh no nunuce you got me again

either way it would always result in him picking you up and tickling you

at one point you where standing near the stairs

you where trying to disarm him and didn’t notice them

you stepped back and tripped and fell hitting your head on one of the stairs

the former emperor of France felt his blood chill 

he had never seen something scarier then you passed out on the stairs

in a flash he was by your side scooped you up and ran into the house

you woke up a few hours later and sitting right next to you, squeezing your hand like there is no tomorrow, was Napoleon

Honestly he looked like he had aged 50 years

but as son as you made eye contact all that  disappeared as if it wasn’t even there to begin with

He hugged you and semi scolded you for being a nunuce and scaring him

Jean

My apology for this one instead of stairs I used a horse. Also based on a true story, sorta. I didn’t have Jean.😢😂

soldier boy

so you where riding with Jean one day

you loved these little outings

the way the wind whipped your hair and the landscape rushed past you as you rode into the sunset

romantic I know

but you have to remember that this also has it’s dangers...

that day you stayed out a bit longer then usual

the sun had already set when you decided it was time to go

so  you started making your way back through the dark forest

 suddenly a fox dashed across the rode and scared your horse

it reared and trashed an threw you off it’s back

you hit your head and blacked out

you woke up the next morning in Jean’s bed

he himself sat beside you

he had his eye patch off and he had bags under his eyes

it was clear he stayed up all night ( he was that worried)

you felt guilty

you got up and hugged him against your chest  caressing his hair

he sighed “ I was so worried about you mademoiselle“

you giggled at the name “ I’m sorry monsieur“

he looked up at you lovingly, deep purple eyes shining

he reached up to cup your cheek as you threaded your hand through his hair and you both met in a passionate kiss

Me: YOU MAY KISS THE BRIDE!!!!!! *sigh* I have lost my mind i case you haven’t noticed

Mozart

tsundere baby

Mozart had just finished one of his performances

and of coarse he killed it

since the place was not that far from the mansion you decided to walk to spare Mozart’s stomach

you where walking and you spotted something you stopped and excitedly pointed at it

Mozart rolled his eyes and kept going “You already have a plushie”

you playfully pouted but ran to catch up to him

suddenly a carriage rolled past you really close and scared you

you lost you balance and fell, hitting your head on the steppes of the building on your right

 Mozart wheeled around and saw you on the ground

he cursed himself for not being next to you,

he quickly picked you up and ran

You woke up the next day

Mozart was right next to you

“ This is why I hate carriages”

you burst out laughing and hugged him

he hugged you back and then slowly placed you back onto the bed

he then knelt down and brought up a bag and placed on your lap

you looked into the bad and in it was the plushie you where looking at before the accident

“ I thought it might make you feel better” the blush was visible on his cheeks

“ Oh, Mozart!” you threw your arms around him yet again “ I love it. I love you.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent “I love you too”

Isaac

you where at the university

Isaac had finished his lectures and was surprised to see you there

or at least that was what he thought he looked like in actuality

he was flustered, and was stuttering, palm sweating a little

the kids (let’s call them that ok, they’re babies compared to Isaac anyway) got a kick out of that and where snickering in the background  

you where standing on the steppes when a little girl, who you figured was someones sibling came rushing up to you

now you where standing facing each other and this girl came in between the two of you pushing you in the process

you lost your balance and hit your head on the railing of the stairs and then crumpled to the ground

all you heard was screams and then nothing

you woke up that evening and the second you opened your eyes Isaac had you wrapped up in his arms and was holding you against his chest

“ Do you have any idea how worried I was! Thank God you’re awake”

you cupped his cheek and pulled him into a kiss

once you pulled away you smiled up at the now very flustered Isaac

“ Thank you for taking care of me Isaac!”

he mumbled a ‘you’re welcome’

you laughed and hugged him

Sebastian

so the two of you cuties where grocery shopping

you where finishing up and walking out laughing and talking

all of a sudden you heard screams from inside the store

you turned around only to see a man running at you at full speed

you didn’t have time to react

he knocked into you and sent your stuff flying and you tumbling down the stairs

you hit your head hard

the last thing you remember was Sebastian desperately calling your name

you woke up in your room and Sebastian pulled you into a hug and kissed you deeply

nah just kidding

*flick*Don’t ever do that again” “ DID YOU JUST FLICK MY FOREHEAD?!

he smiled sweetly and kissed your forehead right where he flicked it

“I’m saying this because I was worried about you” “ Well that changes things”

you both laughed and then you cuddled

bless Comte for giving Sebas the rest of the day off so you could cuddle

William Shookspear

You where actually on stage

From the start of your relationship Will knew you loved acting

So one day he decided to let you audition and you got the main part

shocker 

jkjk you where a great actress

 The play began and you killed it

absolutely blew everyone away

at the end you rushed backstage to meet your boyfriend

he was there smiling at you

it was honestly the sweetest, brightest smile you had ever sen him give you

you rushed down the steppes, but your dress got caught in a nail and yanked you back

you lost your balance and fell backwards

you immediately lost consciousness

you woke up in his room

he was sitting beside you with a worried expression

he asked if you where feeling alright and when you said you felt fine he let out a sigh of relief

“ Did I do good Will?” you asked timidly

he smiled brushed back your hair and planted a kiss to your forehead

“ You where amazing”

That’s it! I really hope you enjoyed! Stay safe out there!

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

some kind of loud, attention grabbing noise that lets you know ITS FIC TIME, BABYYYYY you could start here, but the context... the build up.. the hours of worldcrafting, you'd miss it all... so start here, instead, then circle back.

These last two weeks have actually been nice. She and Adam had both mutually agreed that, despite not being the kind of person either of them would intentionally seek out on their own, Beetlejuice (she still has a hard time believing that’s what BJ stands for, but okay,) is fun. Not just fun, but funny, and seemingly often in the mood to laugh, in that overblown, Vincent Price horror movie way he does, which earns him multiple shushes in the library.

Drama club has gotten better. Barbara has a private theory that what most people need is to just get used to BJ, to spend enough time with him that he stops looking like an outsider, and it’s coming true, slowly, but finally. BJ had mentioned off-handedly he played ukulele, and when the other kids had expressed interest, he’d brought it with him the next day... Though she’s not quite sure where he kept it, the entire day. She’s seen that mess of a locker he’s got. She doubts it fits in there. And it can’t have been in his backpack, either, because every time he sets it down, she can hear what sounds like glass and rocks settling. She’s even seen him, after school, pick up a rock and shove it in one of the pockets. She has to assume his bag weighs a hundred pounds, or so.

His instrument, almost predictably, was painted with black and white stripes, but he’d played the little thing like a pro. She had never taken him for someone who enjoyed the mellow, soft sounds the ukulele was known for, but clearly, she doesn’t know enough about the boy. Miss Larson, the drama instructor, had clapped, and learned that BJ could read music, too. “Maybe while we’re practicing, you can accompany us?” She’d asked, clearly trying to work a way into getting more participation out of their newest member. BJ had been flustered, but had agreed, easily.

The wildest thing had been hearing him sing. They’d moved from being in the drama room, most days, to being in the auditorium, working on lines and practicing their singing. No one’s been officially cast, yet, but it’s mostly to get used to being on stage. Miss Larson had insisted that BJ sing a few lines for them, and he’d sort of made a face, ducked backstage, and had appeared with his ukulele in hand. Barbara didn’t even know he’d put it back there.

“Uh, so, sing what?” He’d shuffled awkwardly, and Miss Larson had smiled. “Whatever you feel,” to which BJ just snorted, and rolled his eyes, but then he plucked a few notes on his ukulele, and started to sing.

“There’s a camp, there’s a camp, by the frozen lake, wa wa ooh. With every belly starving and every finger numb, but up on the hill there’s a red, red rum, somebody’s always cooking something in the lean-to.”

It wasn't a song she’d recognized, but it was clearly morbid. She shouldn’t have expected anything different. The real focal point was his voice, his strange, scratchy pitch, because despite sounding like he gargles sandpaper and nails, he’s got a strong, clear tone, one that carries well, and as he sings, he doesn’t hit a single sour note. She also noted that his enunciation is much clearer when he’s singing, oddly enough. He sang as much as he decided he needed to, and clung to his ukelele as he finished, like a lifeline. “So. Yeah.” He’d said, and then flinched when the clapping started, from all members present, but especially her and Adam. He’d stood looking around at them all, utterly baffled.

“You didn’t tell us you would sing!” Jeremiah, the student director, was the one who looked the most enthused, and BJ balked. “Didn’t think it mattered. M’just gonna be a stagehand.. Right?”

“Maybe he could play the dentist?” Miss Larson had looked at Jeremiah, and they’d begun talking amongst themselves, ignoring him, as he strummed nervously at his instrument.

“Oh, wait, check this out!”

And he sings again, another verse from that same, oddly morbid song, which she’d started to pick up is definitely about cannibals, but his voice is.. Different. The grit is gone. It’s like he’d ran his vocal cords under some hot soapy water, and washed all the grime and gravel out of them, because he sang like an angel, like a normal person, and then, suddenly, devolved into a hacking cough, doubled over.

“Sorry, can only do that so long. Hurts my throat,” he said, after a moment, all the grit back in his voice. He waited. There had been a soft laugh, and then it grew louder, coming from each of the members watching him in turn, because the idea that speaking like THAT somehow hurts, and his normal tone doesn’t, is just so outrageous and silly, and he’d stood there proudly, grinning in that way he does, because his joke had landed, and he might, for the first time since he was forced into their club, be enjoying himself.

So, yes. The last few weeks have been good. Very good.

All that club progress aside, looking back makes her a little flustered, because at this point, she’s gotten the hint that he’s not gay. What he is, is incredibly flirty, not only with Adam but with her, and she finds herself... enjoying it. He keeps his ukulele tucked into the bottom of the cart in the library, and sometimes, when he’s certain he won’t be interrupted, he grabs it and sings little songs about them, laying on top of the cart like a drunk lounge singer on a piano, as she or Adam wheel it along. The songs are made up on the spot tunes that often start dirty, and end sincere, like he can’t even help it. It’s embarrassing, and endearing, and just very… Beetlejuice.

There’s just the problem lingering overhead, the one she’s desperate to solve, of Kevin. BJ doesn’t talk about him, abruptly changes the subject when she tries, or just goes silent, and gives her a hard glare with those amber eyes, which is the worst of the three options, because silence on him is unnerving. He can do this thing where he goes deathly still, and she swears he doesn’t even breathe, just stands there, totally unmoving, like a corpse.

She thinks if she could just go to his house, and talk to his mother, she might get a better understanding of the entire situation, but despite him inviting them, he’s never followed up, and both Adam and herself are too polite to push.. Directly. But then, he doesn’t show up that day, not for library duty and not for drama club, and she makes the decision for him, that today is the day they’ll be coming over. She gets his address out of the guidance counselor, easily. “It’s so sweet you two want to go check up on him,” Mrs. Birch says, sliding his address across her desk to Barbara. “I knew the drama club would be a good fit for him! He’s already making friends!”

Adam’s mom is nice enough to drop them off, and Adam, adorable, sweet Adam, stares delighted at the house, as they walk up the front steps. “It’s a tudor!” he tells her, and she sort of nods, not really knowing exactly what that means. “I’ve never seen one painted black and white, before. Usually those accents are a natural wood color,” and she rings the bell, as he goes on. The outside of the house matches BJ’s stripes, and she wonders if that’s coincidence, or if his parents just really, really love him. The door swings open, and then a chubby blur jumps away from their line of sight, startling her from her thoughts. “Beetlejuice?” Adam calls, concerned, and it takes a moment for their friend to reappear in the doorway, with a croaked out, “Sup?”

He looks terrible. He always looks a little terrible, as mean as that is to say, too pale and with purple spots under his eyes she chalks up to exhaustion, but he looks worse, today. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d actually be sick.

“We just wanted to come by and see if you were okay,” she tells him, and BJ cocks his head so far to the side, he looks like he might fall over. “Why?” “Because.. We’re your friends,” Adam says, cautiously, which causes BJ to stare down at the checkered entryway tile.

“Oh.” He packs a lot of emotion into that little noise.

“Can we come in?” She asks, and he doesn’t look sure, rubbing at the back of his neck, but then next to him, in the doorway, appears what must be Mrs. Deetz. She’s on the tall side, slim, with blonde hair past her shoulders, and she’s wearing all black with lace accents. Even her stud earrings and the rings on her fingers are that same dark hue.

“Well, hello! BJ, invite your friends in!” She urges him, and then, to them asks, “You kids hungry? We’re just sitting down to dinner. It’s grilled cheese tower night,” and then she turns, and leaves them there, like that needs no explanation.

BJ fidgets a moment, but relents. “Come in, I guess,” he moves aside, and Adam and Barbara take a collective step into the Deetz household. The house is dark, not for lack of light, but for lack of color. The walls are paneling which Adam, delighted, says must be original, but they’ve been stained a dark shade of coffee, and it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust. When she does, she takes in how strangely eerie the place is. It’s less like someone’s home and more like a haunted house ride.

“Oh, you guys haven't taken down the Halloween décor, yet?” Adam asks, noting a cracked vase full of black roses on a side table as they follow BJ further in, and BJ snorts. “That crap? It's up in th’ attack. This is what passes for normal around here.” Barbara stops to stare at a picture of a distorted figure cannibalizing a smaller one. “Saturn Devouring His Son,” BJ says, briefly putting on a voice like a tour guide, high pitched and peppy, and both she and Adam wince. “What’s with you and cannibalism?” she asks, which only earns her that haunted laugh in response.

The kitchen, at least, looks a little more normal and bright, but Barbara learns quickly that’s not to be trusted, because sitting on the counter is what looks to be a lasagna made from sandwiches and sauce. “You guys are here on a night Emily had to cook. Bad luck,” BJ tells them, and it takes her a moment to realize he’s talking about his mother. Does he use her first name?

Emily, or, Mrs. Deetz, her mind corrects politely, busies herself with dishing them both a plate. “So, you kids must be.. Adam and Barbara,” she says, knowingly, and BJ, perhaps embarrassed, shuffles his bare feet at nothing. He’s been talking to his mom about them… aww. She notices then that he’s in his pajamas, which are, like everything else he wears, eccentric. He looks cute. She realizes she’s staring, and BJ catches her eye, and wiggles his eyebrows at her. Oh, god.

“We’re sorry for dropping by unannounced, Mrs. Deetz,” Adam says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and Mrs. Deetz waives that off. “It’s totally fine. BJ’s never taken a sick day, before, I bet you probably thought he was faking. You kids can call me Emily. And that, of course, is Lydia.” She gestures to the nine year old scrutinizing them from the kitchen table.

“Hello again,” Barbara says, and Lydia gives her a smile, at least, but it's wary, it’s very, “I’ve got my eyes on you.” It’s strange to see from a little kid.

They all sit down to eat, all five of them, at the kitchen table, she and Adam settled across from BJ and Lydia. Adam squints, trying to read what’s on the other boy’s shirt. “What does that say?” he asks, and BJ glances down, and pulls the top taught, to make it easier to read. “Least exciting hole I’ve ever been in,” both boys say, at the same time. “Grand Canyon National Park.” Barbara and Adam both blush at that, and Mrs.. Emily, Emily just laughs. Lydia looks annoyed. “No one will explain to me what that means,” she tells Barbara, leaning closer to her, and almost looking hopeful. Barbara avoids that look. “It’s a dirty joke,” is all she says, and Lydia, clearly not satisfied, just takes a bite of her grilled cheese abomination. “Chuck hates this shirt,” BJ tells them. “Chuck?” “Chuck, Chuckster, Chuckles, Charles.. My dad,” he grates out. Barbara can’t imagine calling her father by his first name. She’d be in a world of trouble for being “disrespectful,” if she tried. “Is Mr. Deetz home?” Adam asks, and Lydia is the one to reply, mouth still a little too full.

“He’s at the office. He’s always working so fucking late,” Lydia says, and then lets it settle in the air, like she’s waiting for something. Barbara balks, and it feels like her eyes are bulging out of her head, because she’s never heard that kind of language from a nine year old. She glances at Emily nervously, waiting for her to blow up, to be angry, but Emily just seems to be in deep thought.

“I dunno about that one, Lyds,” Mrs. Deetz finally says, and Lydia puffs up her chest and tries again. “He’s always working so god damn late?” She looks to her mother, and Emily, finger on her chin, nods. “Yeah, alright. I hereby decree that Lydia Deetz, at the age of nine and a half, is allowed to say god damn.” Lydia pumps her fist and then takes another huge mouthful of grilled cheese casserole. “Bout fuckin’ time,” BJ grunts. Barbara thinks the Deetz family might all be whack jobs. there's more, a lot more, but tumblr can't handle it all, so read this chapter in full over on Ao3!

[vampire207343]

Venus Mikaelson

What if....Fem!Harry Potter, Stella Lilian Potter died, 10 years after the war with the Dark Lord after her own husband Ron Weasley betrayed her after she catch him having an affair with their bestfriend Hermione Granger. She was reborn into another world as Venus Gilbert.

My parents Miranda and Greyson Gilbert died last Summer because of my sister Elena who is born a month after me well that's what Everyone tells me that we're twins born in different months from one another. I was in the car with our parents seating beside Elena, when our parents drowned and I also died for about 10 secounds before someone manage to bring me back to life, but every since I return from the dead the mark of the deathly Hallow has reappear on my left arm like a tattoo and my memories of my past life as Stella Potter has return to me as well as my Magic.

After our parents funeral, Jeremy and myself left Mystic Fall for a little while to get away and mourn our parents death, which our Aunt Henna allow us to get away for a time being, Jeremy and I have been to Australia and Georgia during the Summer after our parents death, before we return to Mystic Fall for the new School year.

I also been collecting copies of many Witch Grimoire I find during our travel and I made sure that Jeremy and myself are wearing a Vervain necklace, before we return to Mystic Fall. Which happen to be a Supernatural Central.

   2 months after the First day od School Viki Donovan, who happen to be Jeremy's girlfriend and end up getting turn to a Vampire and was killed by one of the Salvator Brothers, and one of Elena's new Boy Toys. Elena tried to have Damon Salvator compell Jeremy to froget any feelings he currently have for Viki after they killed her.

Elena removed his vervain necklace before Damon compell him again before returning his necklace unknown to both Elena and Damon Salvator that Venus saw what they did to her younger brother.

The supernatural Drama center around Elena, so I avoid her group as much as I can so that I don't get drag to her Drama that might end up killing me. I Meet the Hybird Klaus Mikaelson the guy who wanted to Sacrifice Elena to break the curse that his mother put on him. And Aunt Jenna was the Vampire Sacrifice. If Elena wasn't keeping it secret  from Aunt Jenna what has been happening then she might still be alive. I don't fully blame Klaus for Aunt Jenna's death, I blame Elena and her boy toys. 

🌹🌸🌹

 1 and 1/2 years later...

   I meet Klaus Mikaelson's younger brother Kol Mikaelson and the both of us end up falling in love with each other. And evenutally began dating one another in Elena's displeasure but I didn't care about that, Kol is the first guy I ever fell in love with in this new life of mine. But her happinese didn't stay for long, Elena and Jeremy hurt her the worse way by Killing Kol when he tried to stop tgem from reviving Silas the immortal, but they didn't listned  all they cared anout is getting the Cure for Elena so that she can human again, not caring that Venus Loves Kol, they putt a dagger into his heart unknown  to both Jeremy and Elena that Venus saw what they did. She expected this from Elena but not from her brother who she help rise when their parents are to busy with Elena.

    I mourn his death for days, like I did my own parents death and since I am the mistress of Death I was able to summon hos soul by my side he told me about a spell that would be able to resurrect him which Death allow since Kol was not ment to stay dead. I aquired two blood belonging to Elijah and Finn Mikaelson along with Kol's own ash. I aquired Finn's blood before he was kill by Elena and her friends since Death warn me to take a few sample of Finn Mikaelson's blood which I did.

But It took me 4 months to get everything prepared and ready in the Maraduders retreats the house that I build just outside Mystic Fall that no one knows about with the exception of Kol. By the time everythung is ready for the Ritual. Jeremy Was already dead for months during the quest in Elena's search for the cure. Bonnie Bennett girlfriend of Jeremy plan to lower the viel to the other side  just as Venus Gilbert began the ritual bring Kol back to life.

"Le Sang des deux feres, les cendres de leurs morts. Le sang des deux feres, les cendres de leurs morts " Venus Gilbert chanted spell 2 times, during the highest point of the moon.

Which was successful Kol Mikaelson is alive once more as a vampire again but regain something he thought he will never have again after being turn to a vampire, his magic, he js now the Original Heretics.

In the next few days would be their High School Graduation while Kol waited for her in Marauders retreats. Rebekah and her brothers now knew that Venus Gilbert managed to bring their dead brother Kol Mikaelson back to life at the same time Bonnie Bennett brought back Jeremy but their was price to bring Jeremy back to life, a Life for a Life. 

Venus and Kol are waiting at tge end of Graduation before they leave Mystic Fall for good.

But the First Mikaelson to leave Mystic Fallhas been Elijah and Klaus who are now in New Orlean, While Rebekah spend the summer with Matt Donovan traveling like they both agree on before graduating High School. While Kol and I decided to go to England and I'm going attend Combridge University and oddly enough Kol decided to join me to School.

   Kol and myself heard from Rebekah that Klaus gotten a she-wolf pregnant and it's not just any wolf either, it's tge very werewolf that Tyler Lockwoid end up cheating on Caroline Forbes. And Elijah seem to care for the little She-wolf, Hayley Marshall.

Elena and her friends fonally found out from Jeremy that Bonnie is dead. And Elena is devested maybe she will feel a small degree on how I felt when she and Jeremy killed Kol. Elena dosen't know how to handel it, but her boyfriend Damon Salvator was their for her when she discovered that her best friend Bonnie  Bennett is dead.

On May 2, 2012

   Hayley Marshall gaved birth to Klaus Mikaelson's Miracle Daughter Hope Mikaelson, who was taken by the New Orlean witches and they plan on sacrificing the new born, but Klaus, Elijah along with the newly turn Hybird Hayley saved Hope Mikaelson from being Sacrifice.

     Klaus Mikaelson and Hayley Marshall gaved their Daughter Hope to Rebekah to hide along side his younger brother Kol and Venus until they had taken care of the problem that want Hope dead.

      Luckly it's school break that Kol and Venus manged to protect Hope along side Rebekah, but it wasn't long When Klaus and the others has taken care of the witches of New Orlean. And Kol and Venus return to England for 1st year, in tge 2nd semester.

3 years later...

Kol Mikaelson and Venus Gilbert finally geaduate College now their moving to New Orlean to help Klaus and the others take care off their long lost Aunt Dahlia who take every first born child of the Mikaelson family as payment for helping her dister Esther Mikaelson have children of her own.

They even meet Klaus and others long lost older Sister Freya Mikaelson who was taken by Dahila when she was give years old. The family is trying to hide 3 years old Hope Mikaelson while they all take care of Dahlia and Easther Mikaelson along with the newly resurrected Finn Mikaelson that taken over the body of Vincent.

And with Kol Mikaelson now being the Original Heretic, he is much powerful than Finn currently is and he might even be stronger than his brother Klaus who's the original Hybird.

    Klaus and the others finally manged to kill Dahlia, Esther and Finn Mikaelson. They were able to save Hope before she is taken from her family. Klaus Mikaelson and Hayley Marshall are finally reunited with their little daughter Hope Andrea Mikaelson.

Davina Claire the wife of Klaus Mikaelson help Hayley and Klaus rised their little daughter.

   Kol and Venus spend travel that year after taking care off Dahlia, Esther and Finn. They travel Alaska and now they are in Paris France where Kol propose to Venus Gilbert, And she said "Yes".

      So the whole family are gathering in New Orlean for Venus and Kol's wedding. But they didn't invited Venus two siblings since Elena might try to ruwin the wedding just so she can stop Venus from marrying Kol and that is something Both Caroline and Rebekah agree that Elena might do if she was invited to the wedding and Venus isn't going to chance it by inviting her sister. Venus use to be so close to her younger brother Jeremy Gilbert until he willingly kill Kol and that is the one thing that Venus would never forgive her brother for. 

🌹🌸🌹

1 and 1/2 year later...

On March 15, 2017

    The Hallow took possessed of Hope's five years old body so in order save Hope Mikaelson. They have decided to split the Hallow evenly before all of them going in their seperate ways.

   The first to leave New Orlean is Elijah Mikaelson and he moved to England. Then Rebekah fallow she move in Washington D.C., then their Kol and Venus who left next and they both decided to settle down in Sydney Australia. Then finally Klaus and Davina moved to New York. 

Both Venus and Davina Mikaelson are pregnant their respected husband are excited to have a child with thrir wife.

While Hayley Marshall and her daughter Hope Mikaelson moved in Mystic Fall to attend Salvator Broading School with people like herself.

Hope made friends with the Saltzman twins Lizzy and Jossie.

🌹🌸🌹

5 years later...

Davina and her daughter Faith Rosalinda Mikaelson

Are visit, Venus and Kol along with their daughter Sadiya Lilian Mikaelson

They always visit each other when they can, while they are cousin they mostly see one another as sisters. They are only 5 years old but they are already smart enough to know that their Klaus and Kol Mikealson can't be near one another it's to dangerous because of the enity that was split equally between their Aunt and Uncles before they were born to saved Faith's 10 years older half sister Hope Mikaelson who they have never meeg before.

6 years later..

   Hope Andrea Mikaelson is now 16 years old, but she is jealous of her younger half sister she never meet since she gotten the chance to grow up with their father, while he can't go near her without endanger her life that it feels like I don't exist to him anymore since he never try to contact her the only one stay in contact with her is Her Aunt Freya and that's because she dosen't have a hallow sealed inside her.

      Elena Gilbert end up marring Damon Salvator but they never had children together. Their is one greatest regret she ever did force Damon to Compell her younger brother Jeremy to Kill Kol Mikaelson to stop him from stoping them search for the so call vampire "cure" but in the end Jeremy end up dead, my sister Venus end hating me and Jeremy for killing Kol. And bonnie lower viel to bring back Jeremy to life in return she died I lost my bestfriend. And Jeremy also end up hating my guts for forcing him to kill Kol which end up our sister Venus hate us even know she still never forgived us for Killing Kol even though she manged to rescurrect him.

Jeremy Gilbert end up marring a woman he meet in College after Bonnie died and they have one daughter together an 8 years old by tge name of Lydia Rose Gilbert.

[chancelloramidala]

Catastrophize ► Luke Crain

Chapter One.

( TW: drug abuse, death )

“Papá, why can’t I come with?” Julia frowned as she stomped around the living room with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked as serious as a nine year old could look. “It’s no fair that you get to go on an adventure so soon after Mister Luke got here.”

Vincent let out the hundredth sigh in the past hour. As much as he loved his daughter, she was being an absolute pain right now and to be frank, he had no time for pains. “Julia, hermosa, please,” he exasperated, thankful that Luke was freshening up in the bathroom so he couldn’t be able to see Julia’s temper tantrum for the night. “You’ll be able to join many other adventures, but this one is strictly for Mister Luke and I.”

Julia squinted at her father, her face twisting from anger to begrudging stillness. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re going away.”

From the tinge of sadness in her voice, Vincent’s annoyance subsided and was replaced with something fatherly. He gently patted the spot next to him on the couch, silently asking his daughter to sit with him. And when she did, Vincent stared at her for a moment and he pressed his lips into a thin line. “You know how your Tía Frida is in a better place that we cannot visit until we’re ready?”

Julia nodded diligently as her brown eyes glanced at a photograph on the fireplace mantle.

“Mister Luke’s sister, Nell, is also in that better place. But before Mister Luke can let her go there, he has to say goodbye to her one last time.”

Death was a topic Vincent knew he had to slowly teach Julia so she wouldn’t be so shell shocked in the future. With the death of his sister when she was five, and the incarceration of her mother, Vincent had to explain the difference between leaving forever (in this case, death) and leaving temporarily (in this case, prison) so Julia won’t confuse the two anymore.

“Oh,” Julia hummed for a moment and tapped her finger on her chin. “Do you think Tía Frida and Mister Luke’s sister, Nell are friends in the better place? Like taking care of each other, and making sure they’re eating all their icky vegetables?”

Vincent had to bite back a laugh. “I’m sure your Tía Frida is being force fed by Nell as we speak, hermosa.”

Julia grinned. “I’m going to make Mister Luke a card with Tía Frida and his sister Miss Nell on it!” and just like that, the nine year old hooped onto her feet and sprung out of the room in search for glitter and colorful paper.

Little did either of them know that Luke was stalking in the hallway, dressed in some of Vincent’s clothes since he didn’t have his own, and was wiping away the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand as a small smile fell on his cheeks.

.

.

.

Throughout the whole flight to Massachusetts, Luke held the picture Julia had made him with such care it almost made Vincent’s heart burst. He made sure that the drawing wouldn’t get crumpled, tucking it carefully into the sleeve of the seat in front of him during turbulence and not caring if he got glitter everywhere. With that being said, those around him who weren’t Vincent, were quite annoyed with the expansion of glitter getting on their things and on the floor, especially the flight attendants who were quietly bickering towards the back of the plane about the mess they’d have to clean up.

Also, during the flight, Luke was gripping onto Vincent’s hand because he absolutely hated flying. Vincent wasn’t complaining though, liking that he had an excuse to touch Luke without it being too obvious.

When they landed, Vincent was miraculously able to rent a car at the airport, which he drove to their hotel because he insisted they at least settle in a bit before heading to the previewing with the rest of the Crain family. Luke kept to himself most of the time, lost in his head as he tried to process that his sister was dead, and apparently by suicide in the house their mother died in. He was thankful that Vincent gave him his space and took care of the essentials like booking the room, getting him clothes, and making sure he was eating and drinking something even if he didn’t want to.

Vincent wished he could do more for Luke, take away the pain of losing a love one, nonetheless a twin. It was a familiar mourning that Vincent knew all too well, one that haunted him every single day. It was a deep, rotting, and sinking feeling that he didn't want Luke to even know about.

It neared the time to head to the funeral home for the private viewing and Vincent was surprised to find Luke ready to go, already putting on a pair of black converse by the door. It made the other man smile to himself, glad to see that Luke was able to get himself together, even in the smallest way.

“Ready to go, buddy?” Vincent asked as he slipped on his own shoes and jacket.

Luke shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Vincent nodded, sending him a reassuring smile and patted Luke’s shoulder on his way out the door.

.

.

.

“What the fuck do you mean you couldn’t find him Steve?” Shirley glared at Steve as venom spilled from her lips.

Steve, ever-so exasperated with being yelled at on today of all days, sighed and rubbed his temples. “It means I couldn’t find him, Shirley,”

“Bullshit,” Shirley spat out as she walked up to her older brother, weighing her options on if she should punch him or not. “You gave up on him, and who the fuck knows if he knows that Nellie is- what the shit, Steve? He’s your brother!”

“You don’t think I know that?” Steve felt his lips curl into both a frown and a scowl as he began to grow annoyed at Shirley and himself.

“Fucking unbelievable,” she shook her head and then turn around to get another drink. “Out of all the times you could’ve half-assed something...” she continued to mumble hateful nonsense under her breath as Kevin poured her a drink and stayed out of this Crain family drama.

Then the doorbell rang.

Everyone was confused.

Kevin went for the door, seeing that he was the only person who was functioning normally at the moment.

“Luke, hey man,” Kevin greeted Luke at the door, making sure to say his name loudly to gather his wife and siblings-in-law’s attention. “I can take your coat,”

Luke nodded at Kevin, vaguely remembering that yes, Kevin was Shirley’s husband and fumbled to remove his jacket. But then he felt cold again. “I think- I think, I’ll keep my jacket.” he was nervous to face his family right now,

“That’s alright,” Kevin smiled lightly as his eyes darted to the man that stood behind him, getting soaked by the sudden storm that rained down. “Oh, is this a friend of yours?”

Vincent took his hand out of pocket and waved at Kevin, noticing the judgmental stares he was receiving from Luke’s siblings as they went to greet him and hug him. “I’m Vincent,”

“Kevin,” he nodded, somewhat glad that there was another outsider here.

Luke and Vincent entered the funeral home, Vincent handing his jacket to Kevin while Luke slowly approached the viewing room, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Luke, hey,” Shirley hugged her brother, almost forgetting that he was as tall as a tree and built like one. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” she pulled back from him, mentally noting how he kept his hands to himself and kept biting his inner cheek.

“I’m okay,” Luke mumbled out and looked at his eldest sister. His eyes fluttered to Steve, who looked anxious. He quickly averted his gaze and started to carefully tread over to the open casket as he caught a glance of Nell’s body.

His heart beating loudly against his chest and all the air in his lungs suddenly disappearing as his mouth went dry. “I can’t-- I can’t-- I can’t...” he turned around and speed out of the viewing room, Vincent instantly following after him.

“Who the hell is his friend?” Shirley asked Theo and Steve. “You don’t think he’s also an...” her words faded off as assumptions quickly flooded into her mind.

“I don’t know,” Steve replied in a hushed tone. “I can’t really... tell.”

The three of them, along with Kevin, carefully walked away from the viewing room to see an interesting sight. It was Luke, sitting on one of the couches, a sniffling and stuttering mess besides Vincent, who’s hand was attached to Luke’s, listening and nodding along to his every word.

“Hey, Luke,” Steve slowly approached his younger brother, crouching in front of him and Vincent, but mainly focusing his attention on Luke. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Yeah, I, um... I... I thought... I thought I could do it.” Luke shook as he spoke, his mind whirling with a thousand thoughts that were going by too fast and messily for him to comprehend.

Steve said, sympathetic as to why his brother was shakily breathing and stuttering.“I know,” 

“Take your time, buddy.” Vincent told him, gently squeezing his much larger hand.

“She’s right there,” Luke turned his head to Vincent, every chaotic noise in his head and bones finding peace when he thought about the other man.

“We can wait,” Vincent said softly, his eyes glazing over the Crain siblings who were staring at him with a mixture of emotions. Then he returned his attention to Luke, who was still breathing shakily and removed his hand from his to give him a warm side hug. Of course, Luke returned the hug, his hands wrapping around Vincent’s body as he felt his breathing slowly go back to normal.

“Can... can... you... can you...” can you go with me? Luke tried to say as they pulled back, completely forgetting that they were under the watchful eyes of Shirley, Theo, and Steve (oh and Kevin).

Vincent didn’t even hesitate. “Of course,”

Vincent waited for Luke’s cue, not wanting to force him when to go see Nell and slipped his hand back into Luke’s. Kevin asked if Vincent and Luke wanted an ice tea, and Vincent answered for both of them, knowing that Kevin just wanted out of this awkward shit.

“Okay, okay,” Luke said to himself and started to get to his feet, leading Vincent to follow.

They stood in the back, Vincent’s hand being squeezed by Luke’s grasp. “And if you’re not ready, we can just go back. No one will blame you for it.”

Luke remained silent, but took the first step down the aisle and Vincent stood by him, hands still intertwined like two pieces of a puzzle.

This was the second time Vincent had seen Nell, and despite that, he knew Nell didn’t look like she was sleeping. Luke went slack beside Vincent, staring at his dead twin and the bottled up sadness Vincent hadn’t felt in four years. He sniffed and for a second, Vincent swore he saw Frida instead of Nell and jumped back, his chest tightening as his breathing quickened.

He bumped into someone and when he turned around, he saw that it was Shirley, her stern eyes laid heavily on him. “Sorry, sorry,”

“It’s okay,” Shirley told him, resting a hand on his arm as she stared at his face. “We’re all going through some shit tonight.”

“I just...” Vincent carefully walked away from Nell’s casket with Shirley following beside him, and ran a hand over his face. “I haven’t been to a funeral since... since my sister...”

“Oh,” Shirley subsided her annoyance with Vincent and felt sympathetic towards him. “I’m sorry,”

Vincent shook his head as he walked over to the mini bar, grabbing a glass and whichever bottle he could get his hands on. “I should be the one that’s sorry, it’s your sister in this room, not mine.” he said as he poured himself a drink.

“Why are you here anyway?” Shirley suddenly asked while Vincent took a short sip of whiskey. “No offense, but this is sort of a... private family matter.”

“None taken,” Vincent was glad with the straightforwardness from Shirley because he was starting to wonder when someone would ask. “I’m here for Luke though, he needs all the support he needs right now.”

“Were you the one that found him?” She continued to batter him with questions.

“Took me two hours, nearly three.” he chuckled quietly at the memory of driving all throughout LA, ignoring every single speed limit to find Luke.

Shirley looked thankful, her stone cold facade towards Vincent completely melting away and softened. “Was he, you know...”

Vincent quickly shook his head and took another sip of his glass.“No, but then again I’m not that kind of doctor.”

“Doctor?” she raised a brow.

“I’m an ophthalmologist.”

“Oh, that’s... cool---”

“It's just not fucking fair.” Luke loudly muttered as he stomped away from Nell’s casket and into the other room. “Fuck!”

Vincent then nodded his head at Shirley, as if it was a silent “got to go” and then left her near the mini bar to go after Luke, who was crying into his hands in the corner of the room. Vincent instantly sat next to him, rubbing his back as silence filled the air between them and did his best to comfort him.

He knew that it was going to be a long night and that sleep alone was out the window, but that didn’t matter. Only Luke mattered right now.

Masterlist

[pendragonfics]

Bubble, Bubble

Paring: Ron Weasley/Reader

Tags: gender neutral reader, hufflepuff reader, hogwarts fifth year, canon compliant, potions class, teenage drama, young love, fluff

Summary: A fifth-year Hufflepuff, Reader is in charge of the Potion's Club. When Ron, their crush, plays hooky on the meetings he's supposed to be present at one time too many, can Reader make sense of their feelings toward him? 

Word Count: 1,483

Current Date: 2019-12-04

Requested By: @fluffymadamina​

Being in love sucks - but being in love with your friend? Now, that’s was even worse.

For years, you’d kept it in. It was something small, bubbling in the bottom of your stomach whenever you set eyes upon Ronald Weasley. It turned into something else over the years; your Hufflepuff nature hid the fear that the feelings gave you, and while around the kids from the other houses, they brushed off the timidity toward Ron. You spent so very much of your time at Hogwarts pining after a boy, someone who thought of you only as a friend. He took Padma Patil to the Yule Ball and he hung around Hermione so much that you knew that it wasn’t just friendship.

But no. No matter what, your feelings were just small, and yours.

That’s why you dedicated yourself so much to Potions.

Not many people could see the difference between being favoured by Professor Snape and being on his good side. The first was, of course, Draco Malfoy, the golden boy of Slytherin. But the latter? Why that was you. While your family weren’t made of money, fame and fortune, you were dedicated and somewhat gifted with the ability of cohesive potion-making. And while both Hermione Granger and you were fantastic at the subject, she was disliked for her voracious application to learning while you were tolerated.

Around the same time that the Tri-Wizard Tournament business started up, you decided to ask Professor Snape if you could revive the old tradition of a Potion’s Club. It was a longshot, but startingly, he agreed, but only if you were in charge. It was the club that kept you going after your prefect Cedric Diggory was killed last year, and it was the very same club that was dedicated to lifting the grades of others in your class. Which meant that under your tutelage, you had to help the ever-failing Harry Potter, and Ron.

But it meant that while Potions Club was originally once a week, every Tuesday evening after the last Arithmancy class, it was now at the whims of the Gryffindor Quidditch practice times. Parvati Patil couldn’t make it to the meetings anymore, and both Justin Finch-Fletchley and Blaise Zabini weren’t bothered to come after two weeks of putting up with a changeable schedule. It left you and Neville waiting a lot in the library for Harry and Ron, often to disappointment.

Just like tonight.

“I’m sorry ________, I’ve got to study for charms,” Neville gave you a sad smile. He was a good egg, that boy, too good to be putting up with what he did from the other students. “G’night.”

“Good night, Neville,” you nod, and once he’s gone from earshot, you let out a sigh. Madame Pince walked another lap in your peripheral vision. You weren’t sure if you saw it in the lowlight because she almost looked like there was pity upon her face. But when you turned to her, she was scowling as usual. “Sorry. I know it’s almost eight.”

“Just be out of here before it,” she replied, tone clipped. A beat passed, and then she said, “You know, books will never disappoint you as boys do.”

Before you could reply, she marched off, returning to her receptacle by the entrance.

At ten-to, you began gathering your parchment, folding your notes into order once again. You replaced the textbooks to their place on the shelves and neatly pushed the chairs back into the table once you stood. Wordlessly, you left the library on time and quietly made your way to the Hufflepuff dormitory. You were halfway there when you heard voices; you were late in the hallway, and it was almost curfew for students. But you knew those voices.

It wasn’t very Hufflepuff of you, but you suddenly felt very mad. Before the two boys rounded the corner, you ran from the scene, back to your common room, and once you made it to your bed, you cried hot, angry tears.

---

You didn’t mean to get to class so very early. But you did mean to avoid everyone all week. To think that you even beat Professor Snape to his own Potion’s room! You barely glanced up as the door opened, watching as he entered the room with a wave of his wand. The candles lit themselves wordlessly. When he noticed that he wasn’t alone, you sat up a little straighter.

“Miss ________,” he narrowed his eyes, taking you and the situation in. “To what do I owe the pleasure…?”

You go to stand, wiping your eyes. But in the candlelight, you know there’s no way to hide just how affected you are to your mentor. It’s the first Potions class since the incident, and you’re feeling more worse for wear than anything.

“It’s nothing, Professor,” you sniff, straightening your uniform. “Silly stuff.”

He continues to the front of the classroom, placing his things by the standing desk. Instead of ignoring you, however, he looks to you once more, arms crossed before his chest. You’re still standing behind your usual desk, the distance of the classroom separating you and your teacher.

“If this ‘silly stuff’ is to interfere with the work of my best student, I suggest you air your grievances,” He says monotonously.

You take a breath. “I - I’ve been avoiding Ron and Harry because they fooled around at the last potions’ club meeting.”

“Those two are warranted to act like fools.” Professor Snape remarked.

“Yeah, but…they didn’t come at all. They, er, they left me waiting there in the library like an idiot. And I’m avoiding them, but…” You can’t help it, you can’t continue. A little tear dribbles from the corner of your eye, and unbidden, you sniff and swipe it away. “They’re my friends.”

“I hardly have the most stellar opinions of Mr’s Potter and Weasley,” Professor Snape stated, paying attention to the papers in his arms. You were glad of it, and hung off his every word, waiting for what was to come next. “But…”

“But?”

“You are young and are to learn and grow as things affect you. If you are truly,” he stressed the word in a way that you only ever heard him say ‘pay attention’ in class, “friends with those miscreant boys, outside of the tutelage of the potions’ club,” he paused once more, as if to reminisce, but you weren’t sure what he could be thinking of, “You would…”

“Forgive them?” you wondered.

Professor Snape rolled his eyes. “Confront is the word I would use.”

You considered his words quietly, but before you could ask more questions, the rest of the fifth year potion’s filed into the classroom. Professor Snape resumed his place at the front of the classroom, and you saw your friends. Hermione marched in ahead of Draco, who skulked in with Blaise, Vincent and Gregory at his heels. Some other people came in, people you never really became friends with. Rounding the end, you watched as Harry and Ron entered, somewhat reluctantly, rounded up by…Neville?

The only free seats were the three nearby to your desk.

You bristle, preparing for the worst, but just as Harry, Ron and Neville approach, the latter pushed them a little toward you, looking as menacing as a Longbottom could do. “Say it,” he said. “You promised.”

Harry and Ron looked to their shoes before you heard them say, “Sorry for being prats to you, ________.” The pair of friends apologised, much to your surprise. You felt no words come to you, and quiet, you just sit there, feeling a strange sensation: jubilation.

Neville took a seat beside Harry, leaving Ron to sit beside you. You glanced toward the red-headed boy, feeling your heart jumping just a little. It was at the same opportune time that he looked to you, and feeling your face heat with embarrassment, you looked down to your parchment, at the ready for notetaking.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I lost track of time out on the pitch with Harry, and I didn’t mean to make you upset.” He spoke almost maturely, with words that weren’t rehearsed. “…________?”

“Yes, Ron?” you ask, not sure what to feel.

“…” he paused, looking to his hands balled into fists upon his desk, and then back to you. “I suppose���do you wanna come with me to Hogsmede next weekend? I’ll buy you butterbeer to make up for this mess.”

You felt a smile widening on your face, and quickly, before you lost the nerve, you felt yourself move toward him, and peck him quickly upon the cheek. “I’d like that.” you say, and straightening yourself in your perch, you add, “but if you want help not to fall behind in potions, we’ll need to study together too.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he agreed.

---

From the front of the room, Professor Snape rolled his eyes.

Young love.

[arecomicsevengood]

More Quarantine Movies

Going to put up this log of what I’ve seen now, as some of the stuff I liked the most is leaving The Criterion Channel at the end of the month. I really don’t know if anyone gets anything out of these posts, these are mostly synopses and they’re maybe spoiler-heavy. Let me give you the gist of it now: Otto Preminger’s a really good filmmaker whose movies are really interesting, Jean Arthur’s a great actress who enlivens everything and is also in a bunch of good-to-great movies. Also, I didn’t write about it but I rewatched Death Race 2000, that movie rules, feels relevant to today’s politics, and is leaving Criterion Channel at the end of the month.

The Pawnbroker (1964) dir. Sidney Lumet

Based on novel by Edward Lewis Wallant, whose The Tenants Of Moonbloom was reprinted by NYRB Classics with a Dave Eggers intro. Also some of the earliest nudity in a mainstream American film. About the misanthropy of a holocaust survivor, living in New York City, and interacting with black people who vaguely feel like racist caricatures, in part because it’s a movie about a misanthrope told from his perspective. A ton of movies about race from this era feel dated, this feels legitimately edgy, which is a term that gets thrown around somewhat ironically now or viewed as a pejorative, like something trying to offend, this does feel like a genuine attempt to be honest and push things forward (I really was not expecting that nudity) but also doesn’t feel totally successful, definitely not particularly enjoyable.

Shockproof (1949) dir. Douglas Sirk

I haven’t seen Sirk’s later melodramas, this one intrigued me in part because the screenplay was written by Samuel Fuller, and it’s sort of a pulpy noir thing. A woman, fresh out of jail, ends up living with her parole officer who is trying to keep her on the straight and narrow and away from her criminal ex, but they end up falling in love. There’s a thing where the male lead’s younger brother talks about how the lady is beautiful that I sort of wish wasn’t in there, feels creepy to me. There’s a bit of a shift in the narrative with the third act, where the lovers end up on the run, the once-upstanding man now a criminal on account of love, but they are having the endurance of their love tested by circumstance, is one of those things where a story which felt somewhat unique over the course of its telling shifts into something more recognizable.

…And The Pursuit Of Happiness (1986) dir Louis Malle

I have watched most of Louis Malle’s feature films at this point, I believe, and had a vague curiosity about what his documentaries were like. This one, made shortly after he’d moved to the U.S. and married Candice Bergen (something that comes up in Susan Seidelman’s Smithereens, in that some prostitutes read aloud from a fashion magazine that discusses it) he made a film talking to various recent immigrants. He covers a lot of ground, covering people working as doctors, large communities living in housing projects and causing racial tension with black neighbors (who both resent the smell of the food they cook but also suspect they don’t know their rights as the property developers plan to evict everyone and have the projects demolished). By and large everyone spoke to believes in the notion of the American dream of working hard to get ahead. Malle also speaks to anti-immigration think tank people and border patrols. Nothing too surprising but a lot of ground gets covered in a short amount of time. If I didn’t learn anything I at least admired that it felt non-didactic. Anything with more of a point of view or an argument would probably be disingenuous were it to present itself as enlightening.

The Baron Of Arizona (1950) dir. Samuel Fuller

Based on a true story, although with fictionalized elements, about a dude (played by Vincent Price) who becomes a master forger to falsify land grants and claim the entire state of Arizona as his own. Not a great movie, though that’s an interesting story. I bet I could guess what elements were made up for the sake of making a movie out of it, it has this tension of being interesting and unbelievable (although unbelievable by way of rote moviemaking formula), but also the story takes place over an extended period of time and so has some of the structureless feeling of a biopic.

House On Haunted Hill (1959) dir. William Castle

I’m going to confuse this with The Haunting Of Hill House for my entire life, that’s just the way it is. This stars Vincent Price, who’s always great, doing the famous premise where a group of people meet up to spend the night at a haunted house to win money. Vincent Price has a contentious relationship with his wife, who’s openly contemptuous of him and wants his money. There’s a moment where everyone at the house party is given a gun, each in a coffin. There’s a few “twists” all sort of being of the “there was a rational, non-ghost reason for everything” although any of them individually sort of strain the limits of credulity as something that works as a hoax. Vincent Price is basically not the villain, so much as his wife is, although he’s such a ham that loves being creepy that this again strains credibility in that the conclusion of the movie plays against the style with which the previous action has been presented. An enjoyable viewing experience.

My Name Is Julia Ross (1945) dir. Joseph Lewis

This one’s about a woman, looking for work, who falls into a scheme that kidnaps her and puts her up in a mansion, where she’s kept drugged and basically is told to assume the identity of a woman who was killed. I found this one pretty nerve-wracking, as it’s pretty nightmarish, basically about psychological torture. I found this one under Criterion Channel’s Columbia Noir collection, but before these films were considered noir, they were thought of as melodramas, but it’s also sort of a horror film about being gaslighted. There’s a part where they remove a stairwell and try to trick her into falling down? What’s funny is that one of the things that sort of separates this from horror is how quickly it resolves, whereas later work would I think give the audience the satisfaction of seeing the villain be punished in some way, the ending that just goes “then everything worked out alright” ends up making the structure feel more like the whole movie’s reason for being is just to see the protagonist suffer.

God Told Me To (1976) dir. Larry Cohen

Did I write about this already? I watched that a few months ago. Pretty wild basis in seventies grit about people going crazy, committing murders, then goes to a weird/confusing place involving some sort of holy entity in human form, the police procedural aspect butting up against this strangeness which doesn’t feel entirely thought through, and is in fact sort of incoherent, makes for a movie that is, in fact, still pretty good and worth watching although a bit tedious by the end.

Zombi Child (2019) dir. Bertrand Bonello

This I guess just came out in America this year, to the extent that anything came out this year, in theaters, it coming to streaming is basically its release. The zombies in this are of the old-school voodoo sense, taken seriously as a system of belief juxtaposed against French colonialism, as a Haitian teen feels at odds with her circle of friends, flashbacks to Haiti occur. When you watch a bunch of older movies new movies just seem to be not as good. Bonello’s not a bad filmmaker though, he’s able to capture a sort of sensual aspect of particular moments and moods, just not in a way where they then coalesce into a narrative of shifting emotion.

Anatomy Of A Murder (1959) dir. Otto Preminger

This movie is close to three hours long.  It has a Law And Order procedural quality, taking up much of its second half with a courtroom drama, where Jimmy Stewart does a proto-Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer routine. He’s protecting a man accused of murdering the woman who raped his wife. The subject was surely shocking for its time. It becomes pretty clear, extremely quickly that the husband is an abusive piece of shit, but the main thrust of the narrative is still tasked with following the lawyer trying to get him off. Lee Remick, from Experiment In Terror plays the beautiful and doomed wife, who flirts with Jimmy Stewart. Some of these interactions feel weird from a modern perspective, because Stewart’s reaction is like “Yes, you’re a beautiful woman and any red-blooded American male would enjoy looking at you, but it is my duty as a lawyer to paternalistically insist you cover up!” Preminger is sort of known for pushing the envelope, and this one has a lot more talking about sperm and Lee Remick’s vagina than you’d expect. One of the things that’s meant to be a “quirky character detail” is that Jimmy Stewart is into jazz- The score, by Duke Ellington, is great, but there’s also a pretty corny cameo by Duke Ellington where Jimmy Stewart sits in with him, a second pair of hands on the piano. Still, I guess it’s better that he physically appears in the movie than there just being a scene where it implies Duke’s music is played by Jimmy Stewart, as the music is way too good to just be a lawyer’s quirky hobby. George C Scott, from Hardcore, plays the legal expert on the other side. After being pretty long, there is this sort of abrupt, (although well-foreshadowed) downbeat ending, where the jealous and abusive husband flees town to avoid paying his lawyer and to go somewhere quiet he can beat his wife to death, but said ending is played for this “you can’t win them all I guess, shame about the lower classes” quality from Stewart, who is dead broke all movie but seems like he just enjoyed being able to do work for once, even if it’s for a total shitbag. Good movie! Feels thorny and interesting.

Bunny Lake Is Missing (1965) dir. Otto Preminger

This is even better. Great Saul Bass credits sequence too. A psychological thriller where the disappearance of a child gives way to the police not being able to confirm the child is real, and doubting the mother’s sanity, becoming pretty nightmarish, dreamy, and exhilarating by turns. Gets to a place of “huh, I wonder what is going on” and then when that finally resolves there’s a pretty extended sequence of silent escaping/hiding, which is, one of those things that films do really well and is super-satisfying. It plays out amidst this background filled with interesting supporting characters, who all, for the first half of the movie, feel like moving parts in this somewhat inscrutable narrative machine.

The Man With The Golden Arm (1955) dir. Otto Preminger

This one I don’t like. Stars Frank Sinatra, who I find annoying, as a recovering heroin addict who relapses again. While I normally like the sort of scenery-chewing supporting cast that shows up in Preminger things, I really didn’t Sinatra’s nerdy best friend, or his wife with Munchausen’s syndrome. While with the other Preminger movies there’s this feeling of a slow reveal of what the plot is with this one I feel like as soon as you know that Sinatra is out of rehab (which you learn pretty quickly) you can guess the movie will be about how he relapses and then tries to get sober for real.

The Human Factor (1979) dir. Otto Preminger

Preminger’s final movie, based on a Graham Greene novel, featuring Iman making her film debut. Movie is mostly about intelligence agencies seeking out the mole in their mist, with intentions to kill whoever it is once they’re certain. It stars Richard Attenborough, as the source of the leaks. Halfway through the story becomes interspersed with flashbacks about Attenborough and Iman’s romance upon meeting in Africa. Continues the habit of ending on a moment that maybe feels like it should be expanded upon or made more resonant.

Bonjour Tristesse (1958) dir. Otto Preminger

This stars Jean Seberg as a teenager being raised by a single father, David Niven, who’s kind of a cad/ladies man who’s very permissive with his daughter, who seems likely to grow up rich and spoiled and find another rich man to take care of her. Deborah Kerr plays the woman who Niven ends up falling in love for real with, and the conflict is then between this woman taking on a maternal role and a daughter who is resentful of this. Deborah Kerr is in Black Narcissus, a movie I love, and here she comes off as smart, the voice of reason. Seberg destroys her father’s relationship by taking advantage of his sort of innate desire to flirt and be liked by women, driving Kerr to commit suicide, and the whole film is then told in flashback by Jean Seberg a year later, as she flirts with boys but has a great sadness and emotional distance about her, which is both inherited and self-inflicted. I’m partly just writing these plot summaries as my way of remembering what these movies are about, but this one is nice because I get to account for complicated characters who are both pretty eminently understandable. I keep getting hung up on the fact that movies today now have a much dumber idea of what a female character is. Maybe it’s something as basic as the fact that, as people read less, it’s rarer for literary novels to be adapted? As I talk in terms of “less good roles for women nowadays,” which is a cliche, it’s obvious enough that bad roles for men follow, as everyone is only as good or interesting as who they’re playing off of.

It’s also funny to think, in this era of “comic book movies,” that very few artists can make a character come to life with body language and facial expression the way an actor can. “Literary” cartoonists like Dan Clowes or Tomine play into the mask quality drawing creates, generating inscrutability as part of their effect. Many of the biggest names in “noir” comics are removed from the melodrama elements of actor’s performance in favor of an aesthetic based on paperback covers, which makes for something far less lively. Meanwhile, Blutch is an amazing artist who would probably do a great job telling lively character studies in a genre form, but he’s way more preoccupied with these Godard-style interrogations of film’s cultural meaning.

Separate Tables (1958) dir. Delbert Mann

From the same year as Bonjour Tristesse, and also featuring David Niven and Deborah Kerr. Deborah Kerr’s good in this- while she is sort of uptight in a maternal way in Bonjour Tristesse, here she’s sort of crippled by repression her mother imposes on her. It’s a totally different character, but she remains defined by various manifestations of repressed energy; I would say she’s most known for playing a nun in Black Narcissus. She’s again opposite Niven in a sort of romantic context, though Niven’s character is meant to be a neurotic freak and he’s not really convincing in that capacity. I couldn’t really work out what the deal is with Niven’s character, he gets arrested in a theater, seemingly because he takes his dick out to show women? Or that’s how I interpreted what was being discussed, but he’s mostly defended by everyone except this lady you’re supposed to hate for how domineering and judgmental she is so maybe it’s something less bad. I honestly couldn’t figure it out because it seemed like the thing I was guessing they couldn’t talk about. This movie also features Burt Lancaster and Rita Hayworth as a couple that broke up once before and are reuniting now. This movie is pretty dull in a way I didn’t know whether to attribute to it being British or it being based on a play, as it feels extremely both.

Seance On A Wet Afternoon (1964) dir. Bryan Forbes

This one’s British too, and features the quality I recognize from British television, where the stars are not attractive, which always feels surprising. This one’s got a pretty great title, and a great premise. This woman, a professional psychic, convinces her husband to kidnap a child so she can comfort the parents and get publicity. The cinematography’s great. I got pretty nervous watching this, I think I am feeling more sensitive to movies as of late, way more willing to find things upsetting and nerve-wracking than usual. I can partly attribute this to the feeling of taking something in from a different cultural context, that leaves me unsure what to expect, but it’s also true that nowadays I sort of constantly have this feeling of “I don’t know how bad things are going to get” about the world in general, and it makes sense that I would apply that to films.

Only Angels Have Wings (1939) dir. Howard Hawks

Jean Arthur’s amazing in this - saw her the first time in The Devil And Miss Jones and then there’s this whole Criterion Channel featurette video running through what her whole deal is: This vulnerability/innocence crossed with an attempted toughness that really is very charming. Here she plays an entertainer just stopping briefly in town who gets hit on by some pilots, and develops feelings of impossible love for a man (played by Cary Grant) whose insistent toughness and refusal to show fear (despite having a dangerous job, of a pilot, that makes everyone who cares about him fall to pieces with nervousness). It’s this very universal type of entertainment, where there’s all these special effects shots of planes flying and a drama of men being men that’s nonetheless anchored by this love story, carried by the fact that Jean Arthur is very real and complex. She’s also a legit comedic actress, which I think makes her feel richer and more watchable than someone without a sense of humor would be. Rita Hayworth plays Grant’s ex, a woman who couldn’t take his daredevil ways but is now married to another pilot who has to do dangerous flights essentially to make up for an act of cowardice that got someone else killed. She’s got her own charisma obviously (and Cary Grant’s equally solid, in this sort of old-Hollywood glamor way) but Jean Arthur feels very alive in a way that carries the movie.

The Talk Of The Town (1942) dir. George Stevens

This one also stars Jean Arthur opposite Cary Grant, but it’s less interesting, partly because of a domestic setting and some stale-seeming comedy. Cary Grant plays Lionel Dilg, (great name!) who breaks out of prison and hides out in Jean Arthur’s attic, with a hobbled ankle, while a preeminent legal scholar moves in. There’s a love triangle between the three of them, and a friendship between the escapee and the scholar. Grant’s been unfairly framed for arson for political reasons by his boss for pointing out the factory where he works is a death trap. The people of the town are easily turned against this sort of leftist agitator  by a last and biased judge. Insanely enough, there’s a movie called “The Whole Town’s Talking” also starring Jean Arthur but it has no relation to this one.

The Ex-Mrs. Bradford (1936) dir. Stephen Roberts

Upon realizing that many of these Jean Arthur movies were leaving the Criterion Channel at the end of the month, I started taking more in. This is a murder mystery, with screwball comedy accents, and again I’d say it’s really good, although the “comedy” premise wherein a woman sort of plows through the life of a man with no real respect for personal boundaries is the sort of thing that works in a movie even though it seems totally nightmarish when looked at from a certain angle. She writes mysteries, he’s a doctor, people are getting murdered. He is played by William Powell, from The Thin Man movies, which maybe these resemble. I guess the bickering couple that solves mysteries is a trope but it’s one that I don’t think has had any currency in popular culture since Moonlighting, which was in my lifetime but before I would have had any awareness of it. (I would probably enjoy it up until the point where I got bored of the formula.) I thought this was great and would make a good double feature with L’Assassin Habite au 21.

History Is Made At Night, 1937, dir. Frank Borzage

This has Jean Arthur in it too, but the reason I became aware of it was Matt Zoller Seitz tweeting about it. Partly this is because the description on the Criterion site is so bare-bones it barely seems like anything, but it turns out this is because the plot is completely insane and has a ton of twists and to talk about them very quickly veers into spoiler territory. It is, in brief, a love story. The first totally insane in it is the handsome male lead does the “drawing a ventriloquist puppet on his hand” thing and the woman’s totally on board. An element that doesn’t spoil the plot, but does seem somewhat incongruent with the tone, is there’s a French chef character for a comic relief. It’s really good. I’m pointing out the lightest element but the story’s villain is believably sociopathic.

Secrets (1933) dir Frank Borzage

Not nearly as cool or good. While History Is Made At Night feels like a cohesive story that’s just pretty crazy, this one feels divided into acts that have nothing in common with each other. First act is romance, between a rich man’s daughter and his banker. They run away together. I’m basically unsure of when this movie takes place timewise, the rich lady is wearing massive layered gowns I know would’ve been out of fashion by 1933. The second act is a western where they make a home together and have to fight off bandits! But the action is shot in a a pretty disinterested manner. Third act, I’m pretty on edge and bored, but the banker is now the governor of California and is having an affair with another woman, and they’re at a party together, and then the ending feels epilogue style as they’re both old as hell and they have fully-grown children and they’re talking about how they’re taking their leave of the kids to discuss their secrets. Female lead is Mary Pickford in her final film role. I guess this is a remake of a silent film, which was itself based on a play. Yeah this movie sucks basically.

Bitter Moon (1992) dir. Roman Polanski

Sure, I’ll watch a sex criminal’s erotic thriller that’s way too long. Hugh Grant is a married guy on a boat who has a French dude talk about all the sex he and his wife have because he knows Hugh Grant wants to fuck his hot wife. Said wife is played by Emmanuelle Seigner, Roman Polanski’s actual wife since 1989. This is a bad movie by pretty much any metric. It kinda feels like the social function of erotic thrillers is not to be a more socially-acceptable form of pornography, but rather to be pervy enough to remind the audience why you shouldn’t talk about sex publicly and have that be your whole thing. The French, of course, misunderstand this.

The Burglar (1957) dir. Paul Wendkos

Another noir, written by David Goodis. This one is a little formulaic, in terms of what you think of crime movies as being “about.” A burglar, who learned the trade from his adopted father, works with that man’s daughter to commit heists. His gang doesn’t like her. Once the two of them are separated, a corrupt cop seeking to steal a burgled necklace for himself tries to pursue a relationship with her as a means to an end, while a woman allied with him works on the burglar. A drive to New Jersey gets stopped by cops, violence quickly escalates to make the situation more dire. Members of the gang die. Not a bad movie but by no means essential.

My Brother’s Wedding (1983) dir. Charles Burnett

Criterion Channel removed the paywall for a bunch of Black-made independent films, this is one of them, Burnett’s follow-up to Killer Of Sheep. Seemingly starring non-professional actors, it’s about the conflict a guy feels as his brother is planning to get married to a rich woman he resents, and the loyalty he feels to a guy who just got out of prison who everybody hates. The main character is a good dude who wants to help out this pretty dangerous friend the best he can. The film captures his pride and resentment.

Dial M For Murder (1954) dir. Alfred Hitchcock

A few iconic-seeming shots of Grace Kelly in the role of a Hitchcock blonde, i.e. her standing at a phone while someone looms behind her about to choke her, and later standing traumatized. Suffers a bit from clearly being based on a play, with a ton of dialogue, particularly in the second act. The first act is able to provide this very particular type of satisfaction, where someone outlines a “perfect crime” in dialogue and then we see it play out and it falls apart and happens completely differently. It’s funny the criminal gives themselves away due to mistaking one key for another, because this sort of structure really does feel like a key fitting into a lock, things perfectly designed for one another, parceled out at the right time.

[kylermalloy]

My Official Unofficial Ranking of The Originals Seasons That Literally No One Asked For

So, these rankings turned out hilariously chronological. It’s not that I think each season just got progressively worse—it’s just that when I laid out the good things about each season, and the bad things that outweighed them... this is the order I ended up with.

MAJOR SPOILERS for The Originals ahead! Also, as a disclaimer: this is all opinion-based, and I reserve the right to change my mind at any time.

5 - Season 5

So...I kind of hate the last season. Part of it is my bitterness about how the writers messed up the character dynamics, and part of it is amazement that the (mostly) same team of writers wrote the masterpiece that was season 1.

So, the overarching story for this season is...? “We’re making a spinoff with Hope next year so we have to get rid of all the characters who are close to her who don’t want to be in yet another dumb vampire show”? That’s my impression of the writers’ goals when they planned this season. Although there are a few pertinent themes about hatred and prejudice (the irony of the Nazi-esque bad guys opposing Klaus when Klaus himself had a Nazi-esque crusade back when he first showed up on TVD is not lost on me) none of the themes have a lasting impact. They’re not developed in a memorable way. We get these purist losers to serve as villains for the first half of the season, then they’re unceremoniously taken out after they’ve killed a sufficient amount of main characters.

Then the rest of the season is just...wheel-spinning. A game of hot potato as we speculate who’s going to die at the end.

Don’t get me wrong, there was some powerfully good stuff in this season. I fully support the ending, even though the majority of fans didn’t like it. I loved it. I thought it incredibly fitting for the show to end as it began—with Klaus and Elijah side by side. Facing death together as they faced life. Dying for Hope. Their family’s legacy.

HOWEVER. A few good moments at the end of the season doesn’t make up for all the crap the writers pulled throughout the season. They had NO RIGHT to kill Hayley. They had NO REASON to separate Elijah from the family—the entire show, basically—for over half the season, or to make him complicit in killing Hayley. And that darn time jump from season 4 to season 5 is just...I have no words. Klaus and Hope were jipped out of so much time together, just because the writers wanted a teenage Hope. So many sloppy decisions were made in this season, both storywise and character-wise. It really calls into question the writers’ understanding of the characters they’re writing. So much of this season undercut what the last four seasons of the show were working toward. And the regressions we see in this season have no lasting impact—like Klaus’s murder relapse, or his estrangement from Hope. They’re nothing more than cheap excuses to make the plot happen.

(Clearly I have feelings.)

What this boils down to is that the narrative in season 5 has no structure. It’s a patchwork of lazy storytelling and fanservice—a few good moments between characters we already know and love doesn’t excuse that. Although the series ended with a bang, it’s clear that this final season was nothing more than the scattered, picked-clean bones of the show I fell in love with.

4 - Season 4

So this season is much better in terms of plot—the story is tightly paced and clearly planned out.

The problem is that it’s boring.

The narrative that the writers presented this season required lots of moving around and doing things and characters talking to other characters, and hardly any of it was interesting. Klaus and Elijah spend most of the season separated in one way or another. Freya is separated from her family for a large part of the season, and I’ve only just recently rewatched the entire show—so I can definitively say that Hope and Elijah don’t have a single conversation in this whole season. Elijah, the one who first believed in and fought for Hope—before Klaus, before Hayley even, really—Elijah isn’t important enough to talk to Hope. Elijah gets shunted off to his dark arc mostly with Vincent—all to facilitate a completely unnecessary breakup with Hayley.

The one thing I have zero complaints about is Klope. Klaus and Hope were flawless in this season. They were everything I wanted. Klaus’s unsure parenting, his determination to make this change-for-his-daughter thing last, his SOFTNESS around her...that part of the season was stellar.

Klaus’s arc of healing his relationship with Marcel was also good. I don’t think it got enough screentime, and by the end of the season it wasn’t fully resolved, but I liked how it was actually addressed. (This show has a tendency to brush off Marcel sometimes)

The other thing I really appreciate about this season is that Klaus, the main character, wasn’t given a love interest this season. After his major love interest died the previous season, the writers did not try to give him a new one, or even try to pair him up with his baby mama. His relationship with his daughter was his main focus for the season, and it was beautiful.

So, season 4. Not as insulting as season 5 in terms of plot, but this plot...and this’ll surprise everyone...took too much focus. We spend more time learning about the Hollow this season than developing Mikaelson family relationships, and that’s honestly a crime. Any story that doesn’t develop the Mikaelson family dynamics is dead in the water.

3 - Season 3

At a glance, this season is awesome. I know a lot of hardcore fans liked it. I also know a lot of fans hated it. Me, I both hate it and love it. I think the idea they were trying to accomplish was a good one, but the cost? Very high, too high. The story, though it has great stakes, is actually quite shaky in places.

Personally, I never liked the Trinity storyline. The idea of the Originals facing their first sired was not interesting to me, especially when Tristan was boring, Lucien overstayed his welcome and became annoying, and Aurora turned out to be nothing beyond a silly soap opera plot device.

I did like the ending, though. Marcel finally reaching his last straw. Rising above his creator and finally showing us what would happen if the power dynamics were reversed. It’s sick and scary and exactly what I want from a monster soap opera.

But there’s a lot of things I don’t like. I don’t like that Cami was killed. Double-killed, actually. Davina’s arc was in complete shambles the entire season. Hope was out of focus for most of the season. And the werewolf drama that had caused Hayley so much grief last season wasn’t even background noise—it straight-up didn’t exist.

Like I said, I liked what the show was trying to do, but I think the writers chose an ending and forced it to happen instead of letting the pieces fall organically. There were probably some outside factors involved too, like the fear of not being renewed, actors wanting to leave, etc. My personal theory is that, out of worry that season 3 would be the final season, the writers killed Cami in an attempt to push Klaus to glorious redemption mode (don’t even get me started on how dirty they did Cami’s arc) thus giving us the conflicting death/vampirism/permadeath Cami arc in the back half. Which makes sense—but it’s still messy from a storytelling perspective.

But despite all that complaining, there were some things I truly loved about this season. The Klelijah rebuild was solid, organic, and completely earned. They began in a fractured place, seemingly beyond repair, then forced to band together in the face of threats, and ended the season possibly closer than they’ve ever been. (their hug in the finale still messes me up, y’all. I’m weak!)

Elijah got some truly interesting stories this year. While Tristan and the Strix were both duds, I actually really enjoyed Elijah’s relationship with Aya. And his relationship with Freya! Let’s be real, season 3 was really the season of Freylijah. As weird and incestuous as the Mikaelsons come off sometimes, Freya and Elijah are the most married. In fact, I’ll just go ahead and give a shoutout to Freya altogether. A hitherto unexplored Mikaelson with a sketchy-at-best history with her brothers moves into their house full-time? This could have been an epic disaster, or at the very least could have turned Freya into Rebekah 2.0—but somehow neither happened. Freya held her own, and her addition worked very nicely.

*deep breath* I have so much to say.

2 - Season 2

(Yes this list is shaping up exactly how you think it is!) Okay. I’ve got so much love for this season, even though parts of it drive me up the wall.

I’ll start with the positives: the family feels. Almost every part of the family drama hit home. The resurrections of Finn, Kol, Mikael, Esther, and the surprise introduction of Ansel were all superb ideas, storywise. The recasts of Kol, Finn, and Esther (and eventually Rebekah too!) all worked VERY well—a special shoutout to DSharman for making me truly care about Kol for the first time! And having an old family member as the main villain works SO well for this show. Dahlia was really awesome—and in the end, almost underutilized. But Freya! The addition of Freya to the family brought forth a whole new tidal wave of emotions.

And do I even need to say it? Klope, y’all. They just give me all the feels. The midseason finale will always have a special place in my heart.

That’s not to say I don’t have my problems with this season. The narrative structure comes from a very bold place—in typical TVD fashion, the terrible threats we started out fearing are soon rendered obsolete by this much huger looming threat. Alliances are formed, backs are stabbed, hearts are broken, and the end of the season leaves us and the characters picking up pieces of our hearts off the floor.

I very much like the idea that Klaus, obsessively paranoid and fearful, would turn on everyone he loves to protect his child. However, I don’t think the necessary steps were taken in the narrative for us to actually reach that point. There was too much werewolf drama—for Hayley to care about them so much, shouldn’t we know more than three of them by name? And speaking of Hayley, I kind of hated the back half of her arc. As she ascends to werewolf queen, she loses all the braincells that got her this far and decides to trust Jackson and her new family over the Mikaelsons, the oldest, most ruthless and feared supernatural beings in the world. Huh?

Altogether, I just don’t think Elijah, Rebekah, and Hayley all turning on Klaus was well-deserved in the writing—especially considering how well they all worked together in the beginning of the season. I think it was another case of the writers establishing an endpoint far ahead of time, then pushing all the characters and events to fit their plan. Still, I liked this season a lot. Not as sloppy as season 3, but still not as masterful as season 1. And without further ado...

1 - Season 1

Here it is! The masterpiece. My baby. The year of television I can rewatch at any time and enjoy so thoroughly I forget the other million times I’ve seen it. And I can wax poetic about it for days, much to the dismay of my followers.

I’ve heard some people—fans, even—call season 1 unfocused or disorganized, cluttered, still figuring itself out...but I disagree very strongly. Since TO is a spinoff, and the three main characters were already well-established by the writers (well, as consistent as the writing on TVD ever was) I never saw TO as a show that had to figure itself out. It knew who its characters were, it knew exactly what it was trying to do, and it did exactly that. It just was never what the audience expected, and it took a storytelling route that we as viewers aren’t quite used to.

This show took on the monumental task of trying to redeem one of the biggest, baddest fantasy villains on television. A thousand year old mass murderer who had long since lost any drops of humanity. A tortured soul, sure, who’d made a few cursory steps toward semi-goodness, but still damaged beyond repair...or so we think.

Klaus’s redemption comes through this child that he fathers. But it doesn’t come for free. I often say that Klaus is both the protagonist and the antagonist of season 1, because no one is working harder against his betterment than he is. We as viewers have to learn quickly that Klaus accomplishing his goals is not necessarily a good thing. We expect his struggle with Marcel to end in triumph at the season finale, because that’s what generally happens with pilot plotlines. But instead, Klaus wins the Quarter in less than eight episodes, and his rule falls apart multiple times before the season ends. (I’m especially grateful for Marcel’s character not falling into the trope of “Klaus created a monster who ended up being worse than he is!” because that’s stupid— and why Lucien, who does fall into that category, fell so flat for me. It just doesn’t work with a character like Klaus. Nobody out-monsters him.) We expect him to get everything he wanted—because he’s the main character and things work out in the end, right? No. The entire season is a slap-in-the-face wake up call for Klaus. He can’t be worthy of this child that he can’t deny he wants unless he changes who he fundamentally is. He expects to rule the Quarter through his sleazy condescension and his larger-than-life threats, but he finds himself challenged and even overpowered at every corner. He expects to mistreat his sister, walk over her and rage at her like he always does, and ultimately win her inevitable forgiveness—but she can’t take it anymore, and she leaves him.

He expects to be able to control everyone around him, placing himself at the center of everyone’s universe, and that ought to create a suitable environment for his child to grow up in. But when she’s born, he can’t even keep her safe on her first day of life. And that’s when he realizes he can’t do this anymore. Despite being a master strategizer, this can’t be how Klaus lives and acts as a father. The season finale is a beautiful culmination of this realization, as he does what he’s never quite been able to do, and trusts the people around him—release control.

Of course, this realization isn’t the one-and-done redemption story. The walk back is long and arduous and full of setbacks, as the subsequent seasons prove. Klaus’s old temperaments get the better of him over and over and over again. He learns and unlearns and learns again. And I could just go on and on about how much I love this season.

Now, after all that gushing, I still don’t know how much of the season was planned, or if outside forces (actor contracts, availability, etc.) had a hand in shaping the story, but either by tight plotting or happy coincidence, the stars aligned and this season is darn near perfect.

There are definitely flaws and shortcomings, but the overall story is just so good that I can easily overlook them. Catapulting off TVD, which relied so heavily on shallow drama, TO did what most spinoffs can never do, and surpassed their parent show. This first season? It’s to die for.

(I realize this was far too long, and I don’t really care. I’m aware of my inability to move on from shows that have ended, and I also do not care.) I’d love to hear thoughts, discussions, opinions, anything!

[dweemeister]

War of the Worlds (2005)

Shortly after California told its residents to stay at home a few weeks ago because of the COVID-19 outbreak, the first films I watched as my home state grinded to a halt were Ousmane Sembène’s Emitaï (1971, Senegal) and Steven Spielberg’s War of the Worlds. Emitaï, in its patient beauty, lambasts colonialism in its depiction of a tribe resisting French forces from imposing a rice tax. War of the Worlds, the subject of this review, is one of the first post-9/11 disaster films that have a noticeable difference in tone and approach to those released before the attacks. I definitely know how to calm myself down with a nice relaxing movie (so thank goodness I watched and reviewed 2011′s Contagion years ago). The lightheartedness and star-spangled romps that are Independence Day (1996) and Armageddon (1998) this is not. War of the Worlds, loosely based on H.G. Wells’ classic science-fiction novel of the same name, is closer in spirit to 2006’s United 93 and World Trade Center than those late ‘90s films.

Spielberg’s film is a tale of two halves. A stellar opening hour capturing the initial desperation and unknown threat of the alien attack gives way to incomplete character arcs, inexplicable decisions, and an incoherent resolution that fails to achieve the catharsis it wants. The filmmakers may not be entirely intentional in their portrayal of a (mostly) faceless threat wreaking destruction. Along with The Day After Tomorrow (2004), War of the Worlds set the mood for disaster films long after becoming faded memories in retail bargain baskets, cluttered DVD shelves, and the non-curated hellscape of premium cable and streaming services. The bleakness of these post-9/11 films hew closer to Wells’ motivations when his book was first published in 1898 rather than the jolly arrogance of the 1990s disaster films. As such, War of the Worlds – an afterthought in Spielberg’s filmography and something I paid little attention to upon its release – may just yet outlast the entertaining, unquestioning disaster films it is so often compared to.

Ray Ferrier (Tom Cruise) is a divorced longshoreman who commutes from Bayonne, New Jersey to the docks in Brooklyn. His house sits near a looming overpass; American flags are being flown on the front porches of the entire street. This would be a Norman Rockwell illustration if the neighborhood was less blue-collar. It is his weekend to look after teenage son Robbie (Justin Chatwin) and younger daughter Rachel (Dakota Fanning). Robbie and Rachel favor Ray’s ex-wife Mary Ann (Miranda Otto) and her current boyfriend Tim (David Alan Basche). Mary Ann and Tim drive to Boston to visit her parents, and Ray – again – fails to form a connection with Robbie, who insists on calling his biological father by his first name. Rachel, timid and claustrophobic, is not nearly as rebellious, but it is clear she would rather be elsewhere. Soon after, an anomalous electrical storm spawns activates “tripods” buried beneath the Earth’s surface. These alien tripods disintegrate items and people instantly with a blinding white energy beam, which Ray witnesses with a crowd after running off and telling his children to shelter in place. Returning home, Ray barks orders, without explanation, to his two frightened children to pack their belongings and food for a sudden trip to their mother’s place.

Others of note appearing in this adaptation of War of the Worlds are the traumatized Harlan Ogilvy (Tim Robbins); Ray’s friends Vincent and Julio (Rick Gonzalez and Yul Vázquez); and the children’s grandparents (Gene Barry and Ann Robinson, who played the leads in the original 1953 film adaptation). Morgan Freeman narrates the opening and closing seconds of the film.

Spielberg and screenwriters Josh Friedman (1996’s Chain Reaction, 2019’s Terminator: Dark Fate) and David Koepp (the first two Jurassic Park films, 2008’s Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull) are conflicted about whether their adaptation of War of the Worlds is about a father’s redemption or, like Wells’ novel and the 1953 film adaptation, a broad metaphor of nationalistic hubris. There is nothing preventing them from attempting both, but the film, not without considerable effort, falls short at both. Spielberg’s War of the Worlds is a character-driven piece where Wells’ novel (only one human protagonist is named, and he relates what he has witnessed to an unnamed narrator) are the 1953 film (two lead characters thinly developed beyond their professional duties) are not. Wells’ work and disaster film/invasion literature does not completely resist personalized narratives, but the grand scope of their stories makes personalization tougher because of the thematic juggling they require.

For those keeping score of father figures in Spielberg films, War of the Worlds positions Ray in a story that progresses towards paternal redemption. Ray is a terrible communicator to his children; he never comes to terms or improves on those skills. He is an inadequate provider for his children and has little knowledge of their inner lives, dismissing those failures and oversights as legacies from his divorce and his fatiguing job. The disrespect between Ray and Robbie across War of the Worlds generates turmoil throughout, but a decision that Ray must make about his oldest child – who is spiteful, reckless, and more childish than he would like to think – neuters the screenplay’s advances towards Ray’s paternal redemption. With Robbie’s aborted character development and decisions coming out of left field, this is where the film derails, never again reaching the heights of the technical and aesthetic mastery of its opening hour. Most of the Jurassic Park-esque final third with Tim Robbins’ Ogilvy forgets Ray’s character development, preferring to emphasize Ogilvy’s disturbed mentality. The handful of exchanges between Ray and Rachel as they stay with Ogilvy have the best examples of acting in the film. Though Ray’s efforts to tend to Rachel are flawed as he contends with Ogilvy’s deteriorating mindset, he succeeds. Rachel, in the grimy darkness of these scenes, now looks and trusts Ray to protect her. As vindicating as this is, the preposterous closing scene that discloses Robbie’s fate of War of the Worlds undermines the writers’ intentions.*

War of the Worlds is Spielberg’s attempt at allegorizing the terrorist attacks of four years prior and the United States’ response to them. Certain images of this film are references to the sights that announced that America was indeed pregnable. Ray’s detritus-covered silence after returning from the first attack in Bayonne harken to the scenes of survivors and first responders finding their way in the dust clouds after the Twin Towers’ collapse. A downed Boeing 747’s fuselage is ripped open, with belongings strewn to the side, evoking United Airlines Flight 93. A lengthy board of the pictures of missing loved ones – with messages of love and sorrow written on these notices – might be familiar to those in the greater New York City area. For Americans of a certain age – namely, those old enough to remember the attacks and their aftermath – these scenes are loaded, a reminder of a dreadful day.

Spielberg, Friedman, and Koepp’s appropriation of these images for War of the Worlds never teeters on the exploitative, but their evocations feel empty. The rubble covering the bodies of Ground Zero survivors and responders became symbolic of their mental trauma and the physical health effects that have delayed their deaths at the hands of terrorists. When we see Ray sitting in his kitchen, barely able to muster a word to his children about what he has witnessed, his reaction seems realistic but the imagery is off-putting. The wreck of a 747 is a hollow reference to United 93 and the desperate passenger rebellion that ensued onboard; the wreck’s presence in War of the Worlds, given that we hear but never see the crash, feels like a contrivance by Friedman and Koepp to bolster the drama – Ray and the kids were THAT close to being rammed by a commercial plane. Given the speed and lethality of the tripod invasion, who has time to assemble a wall of missing persons in short order?

This version of War of the Worlds, like any artwork, is a snapshot of a culture or cinematic trends at a point in time. By 2005, the United States’ War on Terror included wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. These conflicts, presented as actions of moral clarity and relative ease for the American military, proved anything but. Spielberg’s War of the Worlds superficially touches upon themes H.G. Wells might find familiar: the overwhelming military force of the world’s superpower brought to a foreign nation, with little consultation from that nation’s residents to understand their interests. Here, the United States’ military might is associated with the alien tripods. But the opposite can also be true. At times, this War of the Worlds associates the United States’ enemies as the invaders, with the American military as the defending force (as they are literally portrayed). In this interpretation, gone is the allegory berating imperialism; in its place, a rather hollow inquisition about how the Pax Americana has failed to live up to its ideals. In two separate instances, Robbie and Rachel ask if the destructive force that their father is trying to save them from are, “terrorists.” Whether or not a viewer sees one of these interpretations as more valid than the other, Spielberg presents a United States with a scrambled understanding of its place in the world. Whether or not a viewer sees one of these interpretations as more valid than the other, Spielberg presents a United States with a scrambled understanding of its place in the world, the morality that it attempts – or, for the most cynical among us, claims – to uphold.

Compared to previous Spielberg movies with aliens at their center, War of the Worlds is devoid of the optimism in Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) and E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982). There are no friendly aliens to be found. The aliens’ motivational ambiguity has thematic parallels to the uncertainty found in most of Close Encounters. It should be no surprise, then, that John Williams’ score to War of the Worlds adopts much of the disorienting atonalism that defines Close Encounters’ first half. One always anticipates a recognizable, hummable motif with Williams, but it never appears. Often, like in “The Ferry Scene”, Williams provides an uncharacteristic atonalism – delivered by ascending rhythmic lines that refuse to resolve to the tonic, blaring brass, and distorted synthetic elements (a musician would probably say that it would be more personally rewarding to play Close Encounters than this). War of the Worlds is a film premised in confusion and wrath. Williams has composed a complex, harsh score appropriate for that premise, even if this means the cues for this film are difficult to listen to outside the film’s context.

As much as I find the paternal redemption unsatisfying, Spielberg based Ray’s character arc on his own reconciliation with his father. Spielberg had incorrectly blamed his father for divorcing his mother, continuing to do so even after he learned the truth. After years of portraying absentee or workaholic fathers (Close Encounters, E.T., 1989’s Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, 1991’s Hook, etc.), War of the Worlds marks an increasing forgiveness in how Spielberg handles fathers – culminating with Daniel Day-Lewis in Lincoln (2012), which portrays the sixteenth President of the United States as a master politician (not exactly Honest Abe, as it includes a bold lie to Congress in order to keep peace negotiations secret) who tries to make time for his two surviving sons. This is a fascinating development in Spielberg’s maturation as a person and storyteller, however blemished this is.

The 2010s saw many action/superhero films defined by their nihilistic violence and gloom. War of the Worlds – with its propulsive action and intriguing style – is not uniquely responsible for those attitudes, but it began, in earnest, a procession of films examining the role and responsibilities of post-9/11 America through parable. Few of those films have been eloquent in their commentaries; War of the Worlds certainly attempts to do so, but it is inconsistent. Released near the beginning of that national reckoning, the film is all the more interesting because of that precocious timing, its status in Spielberg’s filmography still undetermined.

My rating: 6.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.

*This should not be construed to be a criticism of how the alien invasion of Earth concludes. Spielberg, like Byron Haskin when he directed the 1953 version, keeps Wells’ original ending – often pilloried, but one that I find naturally poetic.

[ghost-rocker]

Tanaka and 2CT

Now that chapter 129 has confirmed 2CT, there’s more for the fandom to solidly ponder.

I have a few questions and ideas concerning Tanaka and 2CT.

1. What We Know about Real!Ciel

He claims to be real!Ciel and most likely is, going along with story hints and 2CT

He was with our!Ciel during his cult enslavement post-Phantomhive Murders.

His whereabouts during the attack on the Manor are not necessarily known

He was most likely killed (or thought to be killed) by the cultists, triggering our!Ciel’s extreme hatred and the summoning of Sebastian (which was paid for by real!Ciel’s soul)

While our!Ciel is more similar to his mother (sickly, possessing a weaker disposition), real!Ciel seems to have Vincent’s personality (charismatic, outgoing)

Our!Ciel admired real!Ciel when they were children (or at least found comfort in him during their enslavement)

He is most likely the “Blue Star” that Blavat is serving and collecting blood for.

Probably attacked Soma/Agni at the Townhouse for reasons currently unknown

He may or may not be some type of Bizarre Doll.

He shows zero signs of decomposition and seems to have memories of his past as well as strategic insight (or at least the ability to command or attempt murders)

2. Tanaka and the Twins

As the former Phantomhive butler, it’s near impossible for Tanaka to have zero knowledge of the other twin. Even further, I believe that Tanaka must know that the master he’s serving is not the real Ciel Phantomhive. 

Tanaka spent years caring for the twins, seeing and serving them every day. 

He most likely spent more time with our!Ciel, who was sickly and thus stuck indoors more than real!Ciel.

He might be closer (or appear closer) to our!Ciel rather than real!Ciel

Tanaka has never referred to our!Ciel as “Ciel.”

The flashback of the murder, in which he says “Ciel, sir,” could be a broken phrase (we don’t know if he’s addressing Ciel or talking about him)

Tanaka refers to our!Ciel as “young master,” not “master.”

It could be a personal preference, an age-related thing, or maybe a hint...

Tanaka is extremely astute

He has excellent observational skills as seen from his adept swordsmanship (like when he sliced a bullet in half)

He didn’t flinch at Sebastian’s death (hinting that he might know the truth about Sebastian’s nature)

He knew that the Red House’s stomach pains were from Sebastian tampering with their food 

3. Tanaka and Real!Ciel

More or less regardless if Tanaka knows about the switch, real!Ciel exists. Where does that leave Tanaka?

Tanaka is a target

Since he sided with our!Ciel, Tanaka could be seen as a traitor by real!Ciel, a label that could lead to his demise

Tanaka is an accomplice

If Tanaka knew about the switch, could he also have found out about real!Ciel and have been working with him?

On the other hand, will real!Ciel attempt to recruit him?

Tanaka is troubled

Real!Ciel doesn’t really care about Tanaka’s existence

Whether or not Tanaka originally knew of the switch, real!Ciel’s appearance is troublesome for our!Ciel and possibly him (Tanaka).

4. Tanaka’s Loyalty

Tanaka serves the Phantomhive Household-- more specifically the house led by Earl Phantomhive. There are currently two contenders-- the rightful heir to the earldom and the acting earl. Tanaka has known both of these boys and can easily confirm who the true earl is. The question is...who will he serve?

Our!Ciel

Tanaka is loyal to our!Ciel, possibly due to “favoritism” or closeness with him (since again, Tanaka and our!Ciel most likely saw a lot of each other due to the latter’s illnesses)

Real!Ciel

Tanaka is loyal to the true heir

Tanaka feigns loyalty to real!Ciel in order to protect or help our!Ciel

5. Interesting Notes about Tanaka

Tanaka has most likely known Undertaker longer than anyone else in the series (depending on when he started working for the Phantomhives)

Tanaka could know something about real!Ciel (where was he during the manor’s attack?)

Toboso-sensei employs traditional characteristics or stereotypes to some of the characters (Bard being loud and loving guns/ explosions/ etc. since he’s American; Soma/Agni being Hindi, owning elephants; Germans being obsessed with cleanliness and being great at science...)

Since Tanaka is Japanese, could he have more knowledge about beings like Shinigami? (During the time period in which Kuroshitsuji occurs, spiritual beliefs and even religion were less prominent in Britain. I believe spiritualism was on the decline in Japan as well, but since Tanaka is older, who knows what he believes...)

6. Questions about Real!Ciel’s Motives

So your twin brother stole your identity. Cool. 

There’s an easy fix to this-- real!Ciel could appear to Frances, Tanaka, or maybe even go to the police to reclaim his identity. All the authorities or others would need to do would be to visit our!Ciel and verify the existence of two Ciels, thus deeming that one is an impostor. Real!Ciel could also provide details about the Phantomhives that would vouch for him before they located his brother.

So why is he part of some complicated plot, probably involving Lizzie? Another question-- weren’t he and our!Ciel close in the past?

For some reason or reasons, real!Ciel is messing with his brother and his brother’s friends rather than taking direct action.

Possible reasons:

Something/someone is preventing him from revealing himself (or revealing the existence of two Ciels)

His survival would surely be questioned-- he would be interrogated about his whereabouts during the manor’s attack through the current time. Does he have something to hide about the manor’s attack? About how the hell he survived the cult (possibly revealing he’s some type of Bizarre Doll)? His true activities in Sphere Music Hall?

Is there some condition preventing him from this? Has his memory been tampered with? Is he under someone’s control?

He wants to make our!Ciel suffer

He’s just really pissed that his weak little brother is pretending to be him and is now out to see our!Ciel break

He’s a sociopath

Loves the drama, craves the power, and enjoys knocking his brother down a peg 

Did our!Ciel do something that contributed to real!Ciel’s murder? Perhaps real!Ciel volunteered to save our!Ciel and he’s pissed about actually dying? Was it possible to save real!Ciel but our!Ciel chose not to or ruined that chance by searching for the ring?

He’s honestly just in it for the drama

Just wants to freak people out, rather than getting his brother into boring, normal legal trouble

He doesn’t want to get our!Ciel in any trouble

So maybe he just wants to enact some fun, kiddish revenge?

He actually cares about our!Ciel but just wants his title back? And maybe a little bit of revenge and scares?

7. My Theories

Tanaka will work with real!Ciel, whether out of loyalty or to assist our!Ciel

Tanaka has been working with real!Ciel and has possibly been spying on our!Ciel for him

It’d honestly be kind of hilarious to see Tanaka emerge as his butler or something

I mean, the room at Sphere Music Hall was wrecked-- maybe Tanaka has some pent-up hostility xD

Real!Ciel will be pissed at Tanaka for siding with our!Ciel (whether the man knew about the switch or not), and will attempt to kill him

One reason real!Ciel might try to kill Tanaka could be to silence him

This goes off the theory that real!Ciel attacked the Manor (or at least killed his parents and attacked Tanaka)

Possible evidence:

Vincent and Rachel appear to have been attacked from the front

Tanaka, though distracted by our!Ciel and vulnerable, was not killed. He easily could have been beheaded but was stabbed in the back for some reason.

Real!Ciel’s whereabouts are technically unknown, but the figure that attacked Tanaka was awfully small...

Real!Ciel’s enslavement along with his brother’s could have been a double-cross or an unrelated incident (the kidnapper(s) happened to appear during the murders)

Real!Ciel is a sociopath

He killed Vincent/Rachel and attacked Tanaka. His brother looked up to him and he pretended to be caring/ strong but honestly didn’t care, or just enjoyed the praise and attention. After somehow surviving the cult, he was pissed to discover that his weak little brother survived and assumed his identity. He wants to put his brother in his place and take everything away from him. Or even worse, he wants to kill him.

Less of a theory, but I wonder if our!Ciel’s constant sickness as a child was due to real!Ciel, whether through pressure, an inferiority complex, or real!Ciel having Munchausen Syndrome (in which he would have poisoned or somehow made our!Ciel sick so that he, real!Ciel, could get attention). Our!Ciel has been pretty healthy during the span of the manga... (And the few exceptions were due to his asthma acting up in damp environments-- I was surprised he was okay during the cricket tournament)

We’ll certainly get the answers to most of these in time. Right now one of our answer-holders, Tanaka, is probably lurking in the shadows (or maybe real!Ciel has already got to him?! Or...he’s already working with him?!). Hope we see him next chapter!

[thefantasysuite]

Arie’s Bachelor Preview

Finally. Maybe it just seems longer because I didn’t post much during ette or paradise, but it’s about time we got some new info on the OG of dating shows. The cast has finally been released. I’m going to assume that like me, your heart skipped a beat when you got that google alert stating as much. I glanced at a few pictures, but have held off reading anything about any of the ladies to make sure I captured first impression. You wouldn’t stand out there greeting each as she comes out of the limo and then get black out drunk and not remember what you first thought the next morning. Unless of course you are a contestant on this show and have already stalked the bachelor for months on end. In that case, pass the alcohol.

If you’ve followed this blog at all you know I like to stay away from off season drama. You had your 15 mins of fame. As Mr. Wonderful eloquently puts it:

But since it’s the season of giving I’ll give you a quick update on last year’s bachelor, Nick. Him and Vanessa broke up. The end. But seriously, this is what they looked like right after they were able to make their ‘arrangement’ public:

Yeah. Good job convincing everyone that was going to last.

Alright Moving right along. The bachelor this year is Arie Luyendyk:

I don’t remember feeling strongly about Arie one way or another when he was on. I do remember feeling strongly about the bachelorette that he was chasing after however:

Back to Arie. He comes from a family that likes to race cars. The F1 circuit to be precise. For all intents and purposes I’m going to group that in with NASCAR because the jokes are easier. Matt and Trey got 22 minutes out of making fun of NASCAR:

I can do a season of the bachelor.

Arie’s bachelor announcement doesn’t come without some controversy. He may have broken up with girlfriend right before he became the bachelor:

http://www.etonline.com/exclusive-arie-luyendyk-jrs-ex-girlfriend-says-she-was-blindsided-bachelor-casting-their-breakup

It also appears Arie has a type when you look at his ex compared to the former bachelorette:

Enough about Arie. Let’s see the skanks that will be racing after his heart (get used to a bunch corny puns relating to his former profession)

Ali

Ali is a personal stylist. Got a quick tip for Ali. Next time ABC offers to have their professional stylist help you out before your headshot, don’t say “I got this”. The most embarrassing thing she listens to is Nickelback. While unrelated, please check out this clip of another Chad Kroeger fighting his local government to keep house parties a god given right:

The Beastie Boys would be proud

Amber

3 people dead or alive you’d like to have lunch with. You can tell a lot about a person in how they answer. Starting your list off with Kim Kardashian says more than enough. What can you possibly ask her in which the honest answer isn’t “sex tape”? How did you get so famous? Sex tape. How did you break into the industry? Sex tape. What drove your step dad to become a woman? Sex tape

Annaliese

I feel like Annaliese misunderstood the question 5 things you can’t live without. She listed 3 different types of food and 2 emotions. I think the producers are looking for you to say something like wi-fi and your favorite hoody. She also listed Miley Cyrus and Chrissy Tiegan as people she would want to be. Guessing there isn’t much going on upstairs with this one

Ashley

Ashley looks super boring. Doubt she makes it past night 1. She hates doing laundry because it takes her a week to go from washing her clothes, to folding, to putting them away. Pft. I leave that shit in the dryer and go grab a pair of socks and underwear as needed. Amateur

Becca K

Becca has quite the jawline on her. Hopefully she has a smokin hot body. Becca is a publicist. You know who was also a publicist? Fucking Shauna:

Something tell me Becca is publicizing people more like Johnny Drama and less like Vincent Chase

Bekah M

Bekah is very intriguing. This might be a first, but her age isn’t listed in her bio. And I really want to know what it is. Her profession is nanny so I would assume she’s pretty young. But past contestant Corrine also had a nanny and she was pretty old. I know it’s because of the hair, but I’m getting a Morena Baccarin vibe:

I’ve got my eye on this one

Bibiana

I’m guessing Bibiana has quite a bit of personality. This has to be the girl other girls hate, right? She’s an executive assistant and former NFL cheerleader. I vote Bibi as most likely to tell everyone that she isn’t there to make friends and to start calling Arie her man

Bri

Bri is a sports reporter. I needed to look it up to be sure:

Now I’m not saying someone that’s already been on TV can’t fall in love with someone else on TV. But if she gets to the final 3 this season, fans like her, and a sideline job happens to open up with ABC she may have her eyes on a prize other than Arie

Brittane J

At the risk of making an off(on)-color joke, I’m going to guess that is a new way to spell Brittany. And is she winking? Lunch with 3 people dead or alive she went with Whitney Houston, Bernie Sanders, Beyonce. When the bill came Bernie made sure that Whitney Houston’s estate paid for her meal before the new tax bill gets rid of the death tax. (Hey. She got political, not me)

Brittany T

Seeing her listed as Brittany T confirms that the previous girl does pronounce it as Brittany. This Brittany would like to have lunch with Chris Evans, Hillary Clinton (shudder), and Beyonce. When Chris Evans goes on a coke binge he better hope he stays away from the bathtub to relax afterwards (See Whitney Houston above). Also, do you think Hillary ordered a side of beef at lunch? I remember when she got chucked into a van like a side of beef at a 9/11 memorial ceremony:

#neverforget

Caroline

I’m out on Caroline. She doesn’t have a dog yet, but can’t wait to find someone to “co-parent” a dog with. You would be a dog owner, not a parent. I bet she also can’t wait to “play house” with Arie. She’s going to be that girl that Arie tries to have a serious conversation with and can’t stop giggling while talking about how much fun they have together

Chelsea

Chelsea is boring and generic. Sticks out in no way. Not pretty. Not ugly. Thinks France is the most romantic city. Listed grade school sports as something she did competitively (read: unathletic). Likes warm weather, but not too warm. I don’t see anything here. I suspect an early pass (racing jokes) from Arie

Jacqueline

I’m trying to figure out who Jackie looks like. Right now I’m stuck on a poor (very poor) man’s Winnie Cooper:

I don’t think that’s the right answer, so I am open to suggestions. I also kind of wanted to look up Danica McKellar so I’m not mad. This will never work out though. She keeps talking about her career and how important it is to her. Career first women don’t win. They usually become the bachelorette. Not that I’m suggesting that will happen. Just that she has no chance

Jenna

Jenna is a social media manager from Indiana. Speaking of, I need to fire mine. When she eventually reads this post I expect https://twitter.com/thebachtweets to be updated with the new season flair. Jenna’s favorite show is Friends. I’m going to diagnose her as Monica. Looks like she is bubbly, can provide some comic relief when necessary, and probably has a nerdy brother named Ross that keeps finding ways to screw up everything with his much hotter girlfriend. How you doin’??

Jenny

Jenny’s most afraid of picking the wrong person to marry. I guess you can’t make that mistake if the bachelor picks you. She probably has nightmares about being the bachelorette. Many of her answers indicate that she’s outdoorsy and loves adventure. She looks just the opposite. Maybe her idea of camping is hanging out in a motor home watching netflix while a fire burns outside

Jessica

Jessica’s occupation is television host and I immediately couldn’t wait to look up which show. Then I saw she was from Canada, which isn’t real tv. Is Degrasi still on? But then I looked her up and it’s worse than Canadian tv host. She has a youtube channel called Jessica Carroll TV.......(So what if I watched the video ‘Get Pool Party Ready). So we have smoking hot girl living in LA that’s used to the camera. Guess who might get called out first for not being there for the right reasons

Kendall

I feel like Kendall has a drink in one or both hands of this picture. This chick is weird. If she could be any animal she went with bat. Most romantic gift was an alligator hand holding an iron heart in a jar because she collects taxidermy. As long as it wasn’t an alligator holding a human hand. Carl Weathers would have been pissed:

Krystal

Krystal is one of those fitness nuts. I feel like that’s a profession/hobby that never does well on this show either. She says she is most afraid of unused potential. Lol. She must moonlight as a life coach. Trying to remember back to when Arie was on the bachelorette he didn’t strike me as a real go getter. I feel like Krystal is going to push him to be better and Arie will end up channeling his brother in name and hit her with:

Lauren B

I think Lauren B goes far. Pretty girl. No weird answers. What is my first rule about going on this show? Don’t be weird. She has a second degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do. By the way, whatever happened to Billy Blanks?

Lauren G

Lauren has the real descriptive occupation of executive recruiter. Her favorite tv show is ‘This is Us’. I’ve never seen an episode, but based on the people that watch it and from what I’ve heard it sounds like one long ass chick flick. It’s like tv networks needed to try and scoop up the ‘Parenthood’ audience that loves mushy feel good/make you cry stories and we ended up here. Those shows are the worst (And no, the bachelor is not the scripted reality version of those shows).

Lauren J

Lauren is honest. Asked if she’s neat or messy, she concedes to being messy. Doesn’t like playing games with guys, just tells them how she feels. Eats full meals in bed. Can’t live without mascara. She’s also 33 so no time to beat around the bush. I think she’ll end up getting super jelly when she sees Arie making out with other girls. I’m gonna say she ends up in the top 5. Arie wants a young girl to parade around for a little while. Lauren is probably trying to have kids tomorrow

Lauren S

The run on Lauren’s continues. We’ve got another social media manager on our hands. It’s funny thinking back to the first season of the bachelor and knowing how that job wouldn’t have even existed. When asked if she could be anyone in the world she went with ‘anyone in Taylor Swift’s girl squad’. You wouldn’t want to be....I don’t know....Taylor Swift instead? Not very lofty girls for this one. She’s an early out

Maquel

Maquel? Whatever. Guess we are just making names up at this point. Her favorite holiday is Halloween. She loves dressing up and creepy/scary stuff. I’m guessing she is more Cady and less Regina:

Marikh

Maybe the weirdest answer to a question that I’ve seen:

What? So you don’t want to accidentally confirm an incorrect assumption? Keep in mind that she was asked this question, had time to think it over, decided to go with that. I think Marikh might break down if asked where she wants to go to eat. “I love Olive Garden but I hate their breadsticks and salad and pasta so let’s go there”

Nysha

Nysha looks like she’s embarrassed to take this photo and have an official Bachelor headshot that will live forever. I don’t see Nysha doing real well this season. Her answer on favorite tv show and fictional character comes off as a bit “I don’t need no man”. Try not to make a scene when you don’t get a rose

Olivia

Olivia is 23. She looks even younger than that. Favorite book is 50 shades of grey. Not sure she was old enough to read that when it first came out. Do you think she secretly hopes Arie has a sex dungeon? Probably would have been a good intern for Matt Lauer. 

Seinne

I’m going to guess that Seinne is this year’s Rachel (you know what I’m getting at). Favorite tv show is Game of Thrones. I don’t care for the show. Watched the first season and couldn’t believe I wasted that much time. Don’t get the appeal at all. If I hear Dilly Dilly one more time I’m going to fucking lose it

Tia

Tia could win this year, be the girl that everyone hates, or be the next bachelorette. I’ll know by the end of the first episode, but right now I have no clue. I’m looking for key things in her answers and she says ‘sassy’ as well as having gone to a swingers resort. I’m going to go with the one everyone loves to hate. But I reserve the right to change my mind

Valerie

Valerie is a server in Nashville (failed country music artist). She’s 25 and has over 50 Halloween costumes. Maybe she celebrates it multiple times a year. I just hope she doesn’t have that thick twang when she talks. That’s so annoying

There they are. The desperate fame whores looking to make their mark January 1st. I do wonder about airing the premiere on the 1st. I know there isn’t a ton of crossover between individuals when it comes to the bachelor and college football, but I can imagine a fight or two between couples when it’s the football semi-finals vs bach premiere. The game airs on ESPN which is of course owned by ABC’s parent company of Disney. I would suggest holding off a week but the national championship game is played that next Monday. 

See ya after the premiere

- Nick

[thenovelist101]

Wandered

Chapter Four-

The day was so entirely normal that Vincent felt a little sick. The next day was normal. It was normal. His little naïve brain forgot that even if something happened to him the world still kept on spinning.

Vincent knew his father was on a business trip ahead of time, so he knew that he wasn’t present in the house, and he could hear his mother’s heels tapping around the tiles.

He found it supremely odd that nothing was mentioned about yesterday. Extremely odd. Today was Monday, which meant school. He got himself ready with his suspenders and cargo shorts. His hair was brushed more or less. Vincent took his book and slate and sat on the top of the staircase. He observed his mother being normal from below.

Mirai plopped down next to him. “What you doing?” The four year old said. Vincent shrugged. His chin rested on his hand, his arm sitting on his leg. He was slouched over. His voice sounded dazed. “Do you think that everything will change? Or will it just be ‘normal’. Of course, normal never really is normal.” Mirai looked at him with curious eyes. “What you mean?” He sighed. “I wouldn’t really expect you to understand. I have to go.” “School?” He nodded and ruffled her hair. “Stay out of trouble, okay?” “Mm, okay.” He passed his mother and muttered a goodbye. There was no response.

When he got home that day the feeling of hollowness was still in the house. It felt so empty, like when you open a gift to see nothing inside.

When his mother was folding clothes, he decided to just get it over with. “So about yesterday...” He could see her body tense. “What’s going on with Mirai...” His voice trailed off when his mother went up to him. She looked down and slapped his mouth. There was no pain because the shock overcame him. “Do not speak of that child in this house. Outside of here she is nothing. Even if people know she exists, act like there is no one to begin with. You are an only child. Is that clear?” Vincent quickly nodded. “Wash up for dinner and do your homework.” Vincent nodded and ran out of the room.

No extra words were exchanged about that day, for the next seven years. No words about that strange Alchemist or the scary Mayor or that cage that Mirai was held in. None of that.

—————————————

Mirai grew up knowing one thing: Do as you’re told, and you won’t get hurt. Don’t speak unless you are allowed to be spoken too, and you won’t get hurt. More important: never complain. Never ask for food, never ask for new clothes. If you are allowed outside, savor in everything because you may be locked in a closet for the next week. This was the survival guide she had followed.

Vincent was always the savior. That always bothered Mirai. She could never fend for herself. Of course he could never stop the beatings, but he could always call out on his parents and give an extra cookie to her whenever he had the chance. Sometimes she felt too guilty of this. Mirai felt guilt of having nice things.

One thing that bonded the Merger siblings was them sharing a slight obsession over cookies. When Vincent was twelve and Mirai was seven, they both stared through the glass of the bakery. All the fresh goods looked so desirable, and the smell was heavenly.

“I want one.” She whispered. “Same. Look at that cake! Vanilla...” “and chocolate...” Then the baker came out of the store and yelled at them to get away from the display.

While they were walking, Vince said, “Grandfather used to make cookies. They were really good.” “I don’t think I was old enough to remember that.” “Yeah, but they were really good.” “Er, okay.” “You know he loved you.” “I know.” She said quietly.

If you looked at Mirai and Vince walking side by side, you would find them awfully different. Mirai had dark, rich, wild brown hair while Vincent had wavy reddish brown hair that sometimes got curly. Depended on the season. She had dark brown eyes and he had hazel. One was dressed better than the other, and the other looked like a maid.

Their personalities were quite similar. They were both stubborn, so their contentions were ruthless. They had the same mindset when it came to certain situations. They also had a need of independence. Furthermore, the duo were pretty harmonious most times. The age gap however, made Vince a lot more mature as well as self-aware. Mirai would thank God for that. If he didn’t have such a good behavior, her life would be hell.

Despite Mirai’s differentiations and her solitary confinement, she befriended a girl named Lavender Allen. She was a girl with beautiful straight brown hair and dark skin. She lived on the more poorer side of the city, but Mirai could care less. “I’ve got three big brothers, one big sister and a little sister. My daddy works a lot and my mommy died.” “Oh, that’s sad. I’m sorry.” “It’s okay.” That was very much the conversation of two eight year olds, but childhood friendships had to start somewhere.

Mirai felt an incompetent jealousy from that sentence though. Although Lavender didn’t go to school like she did and lived the hustle life, she still had numerous loved ones. “My big big brother left us a little while ago,” she said a day later. “He still says hi now and then.” Mirai could hear the twinge of sadness in her voice. Lavender and Mirai were at the marketplace looking at the fruit and such. Of course they couldn’t buy any.

Family betrayal was a very taboo thing, but it was very common. It was sickening, cold, and harsh. What made it worse was that it was someone you loved, someone you could confide in. Then that family member took it upon themselves to leave and never exist in your life again.

Mirai would never even come to terms if Vincent left her. To her, that would be like losing a piece of her heart. “At least you have your sisters.” Mirai said thoughtfully. Lavender smiled and held a bright apple in her hand. “Yeah, I guess I do.” Lavender turned to her.

“I really like your name by the way. I don’t think I ever told you.” Mirai was embarrassed. “Thanks.”

Mirai looked around to see her mother talking to some fancy and posh ladies. Relief flooded her. It was that feeling like when you and you’re friend were talking about something private and another figure randomly came in and overheard.

She didn’t want her mother to hear, because there was one thing certain. Her name was just as bad as no Santa Claus for Christmas. She didn’t want to hear her mother complain about Lavender, who did nothing wrong. Her racist comments hit her harder than the bruises on Mirai’s arm.

Mirai was a huge accident prone— at least that’s what Lavender thought. Unfortunately for Mirai, Lavender picked up on these nasty wounds. “I tripped on a rock.” Mirai would say, or “The door hit my face.” A door named Father. She thought. Lavender was her supportive friend for a good while.

Last fall they had a conversation about small stuff. They weren’t used to the typical school drama. They usually talked about food and who could would be the best at Rock Paper Scissors (Lavender usually won). Although it was sunny the winds were freezing, and winter would be covering the town with it’s snow. “You should be a nurse.” Mirai said in an alleyway. Her back was laid against the cold brick wall and she had a bag of vegetables in her lap.

The two were out of reach from the guards. She greatly disliked the soldiers in her area, even if they were trying to protect. They always seemed to have an eye on her for some reason. Mirai mentioned it to Vincent one time, but he quickly brushed it off and changed the topic.

Lavender was wrapping a bandage around her arm. “You need to stop getting hurt Mirai. Also, being a nurse costs too much money. And besides,” She knotted the gauze and wiped her forehead. “Most nurses get sent to Warret. And that place gives me the shivers.” “Well, we’re only ten. You still have time to think about it.”

“I’ll try to man.” Mirai pushed herself to sit up. Then she burped. Lavender laughed. “Sorry. That soup really must’ve hit the spot.” Her friend shook her head. “Gross. I’m wondering who on earth is actually going to be attracted by you.” Mirai’s mouth dropped. “What do you mean?” “Well you don’t exactly wear nice clothes for a wealthy family. Not that it’s bad. You don’t sit straight and you always talk back. It’s funny how you work.” Mirai thought for a moment. “Well I’m not pretty like you. I’m pretty crazy as well. Someone who likes the rebellious type would like me I guess.” “Mirai, you are not rebellious. A clutterbucket, yes. Not rebellious.” Mirai rolled her eyes. “Then what am I?” She muttered.

The answer was very obvious. I’m a magical being that isn’t supposed to exist. A slave to my own parents and a burden to my brother. Then something shocked her. “Well, you’re my friend. That’s really special. You’re also very smart. Can read a book when I can’t even read the date.” Mirai looked at her dumbfounded. “Really?” “Yeah stupid.” “Oh yeah. Guess I forgot.” Lavender giggled. “You really know your humor.”

Mirai was very proud of her education. Now here’s the lovely question: How on earth does a girl with no access of school get an education? From their older brother, of course. Vincent taught her basic math and the English alphabet when she was 6, and she had cherished that ever since. Every morning she would wake up and repeat the letters and create random math problems until someone yelled at her to start cleaning. When Vincent turned eleven, he lost interest in teaching. Mirai didn’t complain.

Sometimes she thought Vincent was a little too protective over her. Or maybe it was the Stockholm syndrome seeping in. Mirai decided it was best not to tell Vincent of her injuries most of the time. It would be too risky. In the same year she got pushed off the staircase and made her leg bad. Work still had to be done, so she went around the house with a limp and tried to ignore her pounding leg.

When she had free time she was scrubbing cold water onto her sore leg in the bathroom. She was usually very strategic in covering her scars from Vince, and Lavender was usually there to aid wounds.

There was a knock on the door. “Mirai, what’re you doing in there?” His voice sounded deep and then hoarse. Puberty was a very curious thing. “Um, nothing.” “Nothing is very much something.” He called. “I’m fine.” “Are you pooping or pissing?” “No.” “Are you bathing?” “...no...” “Are you cleaning?” “Nah.” She could hear Vincent’s over exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’m gonna have to come in. I need to piss!”

“Wait, NO-“ Vincent opened the door and dropped his wrench. He always seemed to carry something mechanical these days. She could hear it cling to the floor as he saw her blackish leg.

Vince cursed, which was alarming because he never did that. “I-I need to talk to Mother.” He said urgently turning around. They were going to have a very cross fight. She hated those. “No!” Mirai said. Vincent whipped his head back. “Why not?” “Because... because...” Mirai looked down. “You don’t want me to provoke anything, right?” She nodded. Vincent scratched the back of his neck and sighed. “‘right then. We need to get that treated though.” “Lavender can do it.” She blurted.

“I’m not surprised. That girl can do some real magic.” He said with a grin. She rolled her eyes. “Haha you are so funny.” Vincent stayed in the bathroom and the looked at each other. “I seriously need to go.” “Oh right.” She laughed a little as she limped her way out of the bathroom. It always astounded her how tall Vincent was. It was normal male height, but looking at 15 year old from a 10 year old’s perspective is scary.

If Mirai were to tell you anything she did that was bad, it would be probably anything. But this account was the most illegal: When Mirai was finally out of the house she immediately searched for Lavender.

She saw her with younger sister on her back near her street. “Mirai! How are you? I haven’t seen you in a long time. Are you okay?” She hugged her. Mirai was surprised by all these questions. She was mostly concerned for Lavender. Her eyes were worn out and she looked more skinny than usual. “I’m okay. My parents wanted me to stay home.” She didn’t mention the blood she put in a tube though. Two days ago was her yearly experiment samples for Sir Haberdash, but Mirai didn’t know it as that.

Usually her mother would tell her to cut her some hair or spit. This year it was blood. She remember seeing the knife in her hand and felt uneasy. It was only a fraction of a minute and it got bandaged up anyways. Mirai never wanted to cut herself again. She wasn’t allowed to leave the house after.

Mirai would give the sample and it would get sent away. Mirai thought of this as an offering to stay alive, for she had no clue what it was actually for.

“What about you?” Mirai asked. Lavender quickly nodded. “Good. I was just walking around since I was bored. Nat’s been gaining weight.” She gestured her head towards the baby straddled on her back. “Well she’s growing. She ain’t fat for no reason.” Lavender chuckled. Lavender had a bit of a breathing problem, so her laughs always sounded like wheezes.

Since the two were bored, they went to the schoolhouse. They saw people go inside. They stalked on the fence surrounding the school. “My brother’s over there.” Mirai said. She pointed upwards to the second floor of the building. “That’s cool.” Natalie started to mumble. Lavender patted her down and she stopped. “Do you ever want to go to school?” Mirai asked. “Of course! My sister never went either, it was right when they passed the act that woman could go, and the word hadn’t really got out in that time.” “Ah, makes sense.” Lavender smiled. “I hope Natalie will go.” “She’ll be awesome. In two years it starts, right?” She nodded. It was a shame Mirai would never be able to watch her younger sister go.

When it became noon, the three hadn’t eaten. Mirai could handle it, but Lavender couldn’t. Or more precise, the baby couldn’t. She started crying.

“Hush Nat!” She scolded. They were near the town square. “Shut that baby up!” A white man said reading his newspaper. “Sorry, please Nat!” Mirai could tell she was hungry.

Lavender whispered into Natalie’s ear, “When Brother comes back we can eat, okay?” Nat didn’t seem to bother. Mirai sighed. Lavender’s food depended on how much her brother and sister made, and it wasn’t a lot to begin with. She knew that.

“How long has your brother been gone?” Mirai asked. “Two days.” She said.

Mirai looked at the Marketplace and then at her two comrades. She eyed the carts of fruit being stocked in, and looked at her hands. Anyone here would beat her sorry for this, but it was worth a try.

“We need to eat.” She stated. “But how? We’ve got no money.” Lavender said. Mirai quirked a brow and smirked. “Let’s steal.”

[theshipsfirstmate]

Pitch Fic: Breathless Trains and Worn Down Glories

Valentine’s Day exchange gift for @maybetwice. Post-s1, Mike pays a visit to Ginny’s new place.

Title from “We Don’t Eat” by James Vincent McMorrow.

Breathless Trains and Worn Down Glories (AO3)

He shows up 40 minutes late, of course he does. Not that it really makes a difference either way, Ginny’s sullen subconscious reminds her. She’s been in a bad mood since the movers showed up at her doorstep hours ago, and she tries in vain to ignore the part of her that's genuinely buoyed by the sight of Mike Lawson on her new front stoop.

“Party’s cancelled,” she snaps, in spite of herself. “Did you not get the Facebook message?” As the words leave her mouth, before the confused frown even has a chance to wrinkle Mike’s face, she realizes her mistake.

“Of course you didn’t.” Sigh. “Check your phone once in awhile, grandpa.”

The captain’s expression twists even further in confusion, and when he glances down to palm at his jeans pocket, Ginny notices a few new streaks of grey in his beard. It’s strange, not seeing him every day in the off-season, but she'd never admit to missing him.

“I saw Blip’s car out front,” he points out, giving up on his phone almost as quickly as he started. She doubts he'd even be able to figure out which app to look at to find the now-deleted invite for what was supposed to be her housewarming party.

“Yeah well, Blip and Evy are here because I guilted them into helping--”

“Helping?” he interrupts. “What’s wrong?”

Mike looks at her, with that scrunchy, concerned face he points her way far too often, and her stupid heart does another little flip. She relaxes just a little, enough to open the door and take a step back, revealing that the entryway of her modest condo is stacked high with brown cardboard boxes.

“This is how my mother announces that she’s moving in with her boyfriend,” she sighs, again. “Or, fiance, I guess…”

“She got engaged?”

The word sounds foreign to Ginny’s ears and she realizes that some stubborn part of her brain was just refusing to put the pieces together. “She called to tell me they’re getting married,” she admits. “I guess so.”

She actually hadn't given it much thought until that moment, distracted by the U-Haul of a task at hand. She wonders if Kevin got down on one knee. She wonders if her mother cried.

“Anyway, she sent me like, half the stuff from the house so she can get it ready to put on the market.” Ginny’s eyes regain their focus and Mike’s looking right at her, almost through her, like he’s trying to figure something out. “And since all the boxes arrived today, and since I can’t really lift anything,” she motions to her immobilized arm, “it’s not really a great time for a party.”

He waits a beat before he speaks, and she expects something about how he didn’t cross the Coronado Bridge tonight just to be denied a celebratory bash. Not for the first time, he surprises her.

“Blip and Evelyn are helping, I assume.”

“Yeah.” She finally steps back enough to let him in, and he accepts the unspoken invitation. “Evy’s unpacking the kitchen stuff that I can actually use-”

“Could use, if you knew the first thing about cooking.” Evelyn materializes, poking at Ginny with a rubber spatula as Mike follows her through the front room into the kitchen, which she loves, even if her friend is right about her culinary skills. “There's some nice stuff in here and I'd hate to see you use it just to burn Kraft macaroni.”

Ginny ignores her, turning back to Mike, who’s appraising the room silently. She finds herself wondering what he thinks, daring herself to ask outright. “You want a beer?”

“Sure.” He nods, and gives her another smile that makes her knees wobble just slightly. “Where's Blip?”

“Carrying the rest of the boxes up to the empty guest room,” she answers, popping open two beers and handing them both to him. “You’re welcome to help him, back permitting of course.”

Mike just rolls his eyes and heads up the stairs with the drinks. A few seconds later, she hears him and Blip bound back down to the first floor, trash-talking as they try to one-up each other in a box-carrying contest. Evelyn's focus, however, as it has been since Ginny told her about the night outside Boardner’s, is singularly honed in on Mike's arrival. Or rather, Ginny's reaction to Mike's arrival.

“So he came over, huh?” Her friend poses it like a harmless question, back turned as she sorts through a box of flatware, though it's far from an innocent inquiry.

She rolls her eyes. “Just cause he's the oldest man in the whole world and didn't get the message that the party was cancelled.”

“So he came over,” Evelyn repeats with emphasis, drama practically dripping from her multiple innuendos.

“We're not doing this,” Ginny answers defiantly, her new mantra when it comes to her friend’s ceaseless questions.

Mercifully, Blip pops downstairs to ask Evy something about bathroom storage, and instead of listening, Ginny takes advantage of the distraction to escape the kitchen. Heading up the stairs and rounding the corner to the spare room, she sputters to a dead stop at the sight of Mike Lawson lining her Little League trophies up on top of one of her bookcases.

“You're opening my boxes? Seriously?”

“It was marked ‘baseball,’’ he admits with a shrug . At least he has the decency to look a little sheepish. “Figured you could put some stuff up in here, make this a display room.”

“This is a guest room and an office.” She argues because that's what they do, not because she's really bothered by it. And, if she's being honest, the baseball memorabilia makes the place feel homier than it has since she moved in two weeks ago. “I don't think we need every single participation ribbon up on the walls.”

He chuckles, digging out a few more trophies before diving into the box with both hands to pull out a tattered navy binder she remembers all too well.

It’s bigger than she remembers, and it looks heavy. Mike's biceps flex as he sets it down on the desk. Not that she’s watching Mike’s biceps. Not that she noticed when he shrugged out of his leather jacket to start unpacking her mementos, as if that's something teammates do for one another.

“Well then, what's this thing?” He cracks open the binder and Ginny shudders at the first page, a team picture from her junior year of high school.

“That’s the Ginny Baker Book,” she answers, matter-of-factly. “Stat sheets, press clippings, scouting reports, letters of recommendation. Everything you need to sell someone on Ginny Baker in twenty minutes or less.”

“Aw, it's kind of nice,” Mike muses softly, flipping through the pages. If she didn't know better, she'd say he sounds a little wistful.

Come to think of it, she doesn't know better. No one seems to know that much about the Lawson family, besides the fact that there doesn't appear to be one. Moments like these are when Ginny finds herself wondering the most.

“You parents made this?” he asks while she wonders.

“My dad used to keep this thing buckled in the backseat of his car.” That seems to break the spell, he looks up at her and laughs a little. “I'm not kidding. He'd keep it updated too, so he could show off all the stats from the game of the week.”

Then it's Ginny's turn to trail off, remembering her father in that way she always does when she thinks about the baseball she's played since he was there to watch.

Perhaps sensing that she needs a distraction, Mike leaves the book on the desk, diving back into the memories and coming back up with a smaller, white box that looks like it came from a department store.

“What is this?” He pulls out the contents to dangle his fingers, and wags his eyebrows at her. “Ooh, you gonna try this on for me?”

Ginny recognizes the dress immediately, and chokes out a laugh that tastes bitter. “That's the dress my mother bought me for my first school dance”

Mike must mistake her reaction to the memory for something else, because he stammers, awkwardly offering, “C’mon, I bet you were adorable.”

“Yeah,” she fake-laughs again for just a second before deciding, without really knowing why, to tell him the truth. “No actually, I uh, I never got to wear it.”

He watches her closely, obviously expecting more to the answer. She feels lame when she adds, “Baseball stuff, you know.”

She remembers the burn of that day so clearly, even now. Running home from school, ready to quit the game entirely for the sake of a life not lived. Finding her mother wrapped up with a man who wasn't her father and deciding, right then and there that her allegiance had to belong to one side or the other. Baseball or boys, sports or romance, talent or heart. Pick one, and own that choice.

It wasn't until adulthood that she started to look back at the other side of the story, the path she could have taken. It's not until moments like this one when she thinks about her mother being left out of the shorthand existence she and her father turned into a routine: staying home alone during week-long travel team road trips and working extra hours so they could keep Ginny in new cleats and pay for a private pitching coach.

It's not until recently that she’s realized she's not the only one who was lonely.

“For a long time, I blamed my mom for that.” Ginny tells Mike, thinking back to the dance, the first of many missed. “It just made sense, I was already blaming her for everything else.”

He snorts out a humorless laugh that sounds like he's familiar with the feeling. She looks up at him and he just nods tersely before turning his attention back to smoothing the dress back into its box.

“We were so close when I was younger.” She tells him more, because having him this close to these pieces of her childhood has opened some sort of floodgate. “Then, I don't know, we just kind of gave up on each other.”

“Still, I kept her secret for all those years,” she continues, tangent devolving past the point of Mike’s understanding, but unable to stop herself, “and now I'm supposed to stand there and smile while she marries him, like it's totally normal?”

He's quiet for a long moment after her little rant and Ginny feels that specific kind of embarrassed guilt that comes when you've said more than you should have. She also finds herself trying to predict him again, despite knowing that it's an exercise in futility.

“Sometimes, all we can do for the people we love is be completely selfless.” The words grate from Mike's lips and she finds herself watching them, hoping there's a caveat coming, even if she's not entirely sure why.

“And sometimes,” he takes a step closer and it feels like the temperature in the room goes up, “we have to be selfish.”

She knows that they’re talking about her mother -- who, in hindsight, held her family together for as long as she could, despite her husband’s singular focus and in spite of her own happiness -- but Ginny wonders if there isn’t something more to it. Something that would explain the feeling in the pit of her stomach at Mike’s words, something that would explain the way he's looking at her.

He lifts a hand to cup her cheek, using his thumb to wipe away a tear she hadn't noticed falling. He's close, when Ginny looks up to meet his eyes, she wonders if he's closer now than he was that night outside the bar. Her breath hitches when she realizes that he's looking at her the same way, too. That's when she runs.

She flees back downstairs to the kitchen, where Evy's pouring another glass of wine.

“Me too, please.”

“OK, now are we doing this?” Evelyn hands over her own goblet, clearly able to see something written all over her face. Ginny wishes she knew what it said.

“No... I don't know,” She answers almost to herself, mentally sorting through how she came so close to kissing Mike Lawson again. It may be the most she's ever wanted something she knew was terrible for her. “Things are getting a little intense.”

“Like intense, intense?” Evy’s ready to pry, but when Ginny screws up her face, trying to better articulate the way she's feeling about her teammate’s physical and emotional proximity, something changes.

“Oh my god, OK, message received.” her friend flutters her hands and practically squeals, but she doesn’t explain herself. “I'm going to… We're going right now. We're gone. Blip ?”

Evy's husband appears from around the corner, but her voice inadvertently summons Mike from upstairs at the same time.

“You guys leaving?” Ginny can feel his eyes on her as he descends the stairs, but when she finally glances back up at him, he's looking at his feet, seemingly as shell-shocked as she feels. “I guess I’ll walk out with you.”

She's the one who ran first and yet, Ginny's stomach twists at the idea he might leave. This time, she doesn't even pretend not to know why.

“Yeah, I uh... I guess I’m in good shape.” She presses her lips into a tight smile and looks everywhere but Mike’s face. “Thanks for all your help, guys.”

She hugs Blip before Evy hustles him out the door, leaving her hanging with a kiss on the cheek and a not-so-subtle punch to her good arm. And then there were two.

“So, thanks for for coming to my housewarming party,” Ginny quips because it’s easy. Jokes are good. Jokes are what they need if they're going to move from stalemate back to teammates, to return to a place where every single moment isn't fraught with this heavy kind of tension.

“Always happy to help warm a house,” he replies, like he's aware of her inner monologue. They're pretending to watch Blip and Evelyn drive away, but she wonders if Mike’s as aware of her standing next to him as she is of his presence. “Congrats rookie, it's a really nice place.”

“Season's over, Cap. I'm not your rookie anymore.”

Ginny says it almost unconsciously, but even if she had planned it, she'd never have expected him to look so… stricken? He masks it after a moment, shaking his head a little, but there's no denying what she saw. It makes her heart twist to the wrong side of painful.

“You should take a look at the rest of that scrapbook.” Mike offers finally, giving her one last look at that indecipherable smile. “Read it all the way to the end.”

It's not anywhere near what she was expecting him to say, and so it freezes her in place, long enough for him to turn and stride down her front path to the driveway. She watches him walk all the way out to the street, and it's hard to tell in the dark, but she's pretty sure he looks back at her before sliding in the driver's side door.

Ginny shuts her front door behind him with her eyebrows still furrowed and actually pretends to go to the kitchen, fighting her curiosity for all of 30 seconds before she's racing up the stairs, flipping open the binder on her pre-assembled Ikea desk and turning to the last page.

It's a newspaper clipping for one of her games, just like hundreds of others in the book. But it’s not yellowed yet, not worn or delicate like the older mementos. There's a pink post-it on the page, and her throat closes up when she recognizes the handwriting: “Last game of Ginny’s MLB rookie season.”

She flips backwards through the book, watching her rookie year flash by in reverse rapid fire as she realizes. She's bolting down the stairs before she hits the minors, flinging the front door open before she even realizes what she's doing.

Mike’s car is still there, parked right in front of her mailbox. She's surprised to find that she expected it to be. The only thing she’s not sure of -- Ginny realizes, as she takes purposeful strides towards him -- is what to do next.

Something changes inside her when her bare feet pad across the smooth stones that lead to her driveway, when she's close enough to meet his eyes as he steps out of the car. This is her house, and there's a man waiting for her, and the thrilling novelty of both of those things has her ready to make what might be a very bad decision in a very big way.  And then, all of a sudden, she's right in front of him.

“My mother...” He smiles at her, sweetly, because he knows , Ginny realizes. “Thank you, for that.”

“Not a problem.” This time, the smile almost turns into a smirk, and she doesn’t mind it. But she's too knotted up inside to find something clever, and then she's just staring, stuck between the things she wants to say and the things she wants to do.

“We gonna go through this again?” Mike finally wonders aloud. “Standing here in front of each other when there's a car I should be getting into?”

She's a little stunned by the boldness of his callback, but her feet take another step closer and her tongue offers up the response like she's had it planned this whole time. “No. Because we’re really gonna do it this time.”

Sometimes you have to be selfish , that's what he'd said.

“Yeah?” A full, brilliant smile suddenly stretches across Mike’s face and Ginny wonders if he even tried to stop it. “I gotta admit, rook, glad as I am to still be a Padre, I've found myself wondering what might have happened if Oscar had called just like, five minutes later.”

“Soon as you're done waxing poetic on it, old man.” She takes another step forward and a deep breath, because between his admission and her adrenaline, she can practically hear her heart thudding in her ears. “Kind of need your lips for this next part.”

He does stop, pausing and watching her with wide eyes, as if to show her he's ready, and Ginny has a split second of panic laced with deja vu. She's so close to him now, so close she can feel the warm of his chest and smell a hint of hops on his breath, and he’s leaning in, waiting for her to meet him halfway. It’s just the two of them, without a ticking clock, the possibilities are infinite until...

Ginny thinks about consequences, about their teammates, about the odds that one of her neighbors is going to put this on Snapchat -- then she remembers Mike’s phone buzzing in his pocket outside Boardner's, breaking the moment they could have had. It's all the motivation she needs to close the distance and press her lips to his.

His reaction is immediate, deepening the kiss until she can feel it in her knees. He tugs her close but not too tight, aware of her arm awkwardly pinned between them as his hands wrap around her waist and squeeze, fingers pressing in like there’s something he’s trying to keep. She loses herself in it, anchoring her free arm around his broad shoulders and letting her heart take over for the first time in over a decade.

They pull back but not away after a long moment, foreheads pressed against one another, taking in oxygen and each other.

“I'm glad you didn't go,” Ginny admits breathlessly, hoping he can hear the unspoken desire laced through her confession.

“Me too,” Mike whispers back, before capturing her lips again. “But I'm sorry I didn't get to kiss you like I was leaving.”

She wonders what the difference is, until the slow drag of his mouth against hers, the tease of his tongue against her lower lip, spells it all out.

There will be consequences, she's sure of it. But not yet. Not tonight. For now, there's just the sound he makes when her fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, the prickle of his beard surrounding the softness of his lips, and the feeling that she's finally home.

[dreamscapestory]

BLOGPOST: VV

ok but the murder, at least, was not my fault.

the flirting, yes. the heartbreak, partly. the severe lack of appetizers toward the end of the night, i greatly contributed to. but the murder?

the murder is completely on vince.

... but i should probably start from the beginning.

so hey, everyone, it’s me, violet vivaldi. insert youtuber intro here. but you probably already knew that from the texts amaya uploaded, henceforth dubbed chapter one because i guess she has some kind of desire to make this all look like a cute story. which i mean, relatable, i wish this was one of those cute fairy tale things as well, but considering one of the first things i mentioned was the murder, you can probably already see that whatever this tale is, it is... not that. 

where was i?

oh yeah, the murder.

so i should reiterate that this completely was not a planned thing. and yeah, i know, like half the crap that goes down in red kingdom is not a planned thing, and knowing us that is a lot of crap, but that’s gotta stand for something, right? though i guess when you recall that it was vincent who did the deed, any excuses kind of fly out the window. it’s kind of useless to excuse him for one violent action when he’s pretty much the poster child for violence in these parts. and probably all parts, now that i think about it.

diamonds royals, am i right.

and before you start getting super confused and wondering what the hell went down between the last chapter and this one, and how much time has to have passed for quiet, awkward, but mostly harmless vince to have evolved into some kind of super hitman heartless killer, i should probably tell you that you have the wrong vincent. i mean. yeah, technically, they’re the same person, i guess, but they’re not both awake at the same time, if you know what i mean. that vincent doesn’t even know about the dreamscape yet. and i would’ve been fine and good with letting him and the rest of us stay ignorant of this world forever. except, of course, for Freaking Pietro.

which brings us back to the murder.

but before i explain that, i think it would probably be appropriate to backtrack a little and explain some crucial details. specifically Freaking Pietro. oh boy.

let’s talk about Freaking Pietro.

so the first thing you need to know about Freaking Pietro is that he is one shady dude. which is normal in red kingdom. everyone here is at least a little shady. but pietro has apparently made his personal business to become Shadiest Man in Red, a nickname that also serves as a godawful pun because he doesn’t wear anything other than red. he says it’s because it hides the bloodstains. i know for a fact that it is actually because he really effing loves hotdogs and accidentally spilling ketchup on himself, and that is not a good thing for your reputation if you are trying to usurp vincent’s title of Shadiest Man.

(personally, i think it’s a lost cause. pietro has trouble kneecapping people, something about the sound it makes and how he doesn’t like that particular sound. the only reason vincent hasn’t kicked his ass yet for trying to steal his title is because vince, for some unfathomable reason, thinks pietro is hilarious. something about his desperateness to be at the top and how it’s reminiscent of a puppy. or something. i don’t even know, man, vince is weird.)

anyway, the really important thing you need to know about Freaking Pietro is that he is Rich. not just rich, no. he’s Rich. that capital r being very necessary. and being Rich, he is obligated to throw The Best Parties, to which i am always invited because obviously, i am the princess of hearts, i own half this goddamn kingdom, and to not invite me would have been a very bad thing indeed because if there is one thing i love, it’s parties. and when the girl who owns half your ass loves parties and you throw The Best Parties, it’s probably a good idea to invite her.

so yeah, i went to Freaking Pietro’s party. it was the usual thing: people getting high in the bedrooms, nobles laughing about how much better their getting high was than the common folk’s, outfits that cost ridiculous amounts of money, and obviously really effing good food. and i was talking up some shmuck from the East Side, turning on the charm and trying to weedle out some kind of agreement between his crime group and this other crime group so they wouldn’t cause a war right in the middle of the East and end up dragging my hearts group into it due to alliances issues - god, what a mess that would end up being - when somebody tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “pietro says he wants to talk to you.”

“then pietro can come ask me himself, richard,” i said, because of course i knew exactly who was speaking. in fact, i knew his birthday and blood type and all of the names of his exes and also his favorite foods and his mom’s favorite foods and his brother’s and father’s and cousins’ and let’s just say i know every goddamn detail about him because i mean, i’m the princess of hearts. blackmail and information are my thing. vince is the punching guy, i’m the brains. that’s how we work.

“well, see, violet,” richard had the nerve to protest, “pietro’s kind of in his room right now, and he wants to talk to you there because of privacy reasons, and respectfully, it really would save a lot of time if you just went there to talk to him instead of him coming out here and asking you to come with him and then both of you guys having to go all the way back there. i mean, this place isn’t exactly small, you know?”

richard did have a point, i have to admit. Freaking Pietro’s house was Freaking Big. probably because it was a mansion. that’s kind of how mansions work, from my experience.

so i rolled my eyes and sighed and finished up my business with the East Side dude before going to see pietro. (the dude was putty in my hands looong before richard showed up - you can say a lot of things about me, but you can’t deny that i am damn good at my job.) and i was pretty sure i knew exactly how this conversation was going to play out: pietro would chat me up for a bit, maybe offer me some variety of alcoholic beverage, and then he would declare his eternal and undying love for me, at which point i would have to kindly turn him down yet again because pietro had been at this for a pathetic while now, and i was getting pretty sick of this whole situation. and then he’d beg and plead and possibly cry and definitely threaten me, and i would have to threaten him back in order to get him to shut up. which he would, in the end. i’d been through this enough times that that much was pretty clear.

sure enough, i found pietro sitting out in his personal balcony with a bottle of wine, and i had to stifle a sigh. goddamn the dude was persistent. i really needed to beg vincent again to strangle him for me.

“for the last time, pietro,” i said, folding my arms and not joining him at his little table setup. “the answer is no.”

pietro looked injured. “you didn’t even let me ask,” he whined.

“we have been over this a million goddamn times. i’m not into you. you have to get over it. go to a brothel or something, there’s literally one down the street. i’m sure they’ll oblige you if you pay them enough money.”

pietro stood, and i braced myself for more begging and threatening and tears. but for some reason, i couldn’t find any hint of that in his features. which made me very uneasy because i am the best at reading expressions, and i was pretty sure he looked kind of... smug.

“oh, violet,” he said, pulling out a pistol from behind his back and aiming it straight at my face, “i never said anything about asking you out again.”

at which point, the pistol went flying out of his hand, a sword emerged through his back, and pietro’s eyes went wide as he collapsed to the ground, having died in one of the most overdramatic sequences i had ever seen.

“hey, vi,” vincent said with absolutely no expression on his face whatsoever, pulling his sword out of pietro’s back. “so, how’s your day going?”

“you are the biggest drama queen i have ever seen,” i told him. “also, thanks, that could’ve gotten messy in so many different ways. also, why are you here?”

vince just kind of looked from me to pietro, like what else do you want me to say? 

“okay,” i said, “let me rephrase that. how did you find out that pietro was going to kill me before i knew that pietro was going to kill me? i mean, that’s not usually your thing, you know?”

“because the guy who hired him also hired somebody to kill me,” was vincent’s straightfaced response. “as you can see, it didn’t exactly work out.”

i nodded as if this was a common occurrence, which in our line of business, it kind of is. “and who exactly is that?”

“cide.”

i blinked. a hard, gutwrenching feeling descended upon me. “aw, crap.”

“yeah,” vincent said. “exactly.”

the gutwrenching feeling grew worse. cide was bad news. not because he was rich or powerful or extremely dangerous, though he was all three, but because he was technically legally a black kingdom citizen, meaning that vincent and i had pretty much zero power over him. he led a very private life, almost never went out, wasn’t married, his parents were dead, and i knew almost next to nothing about him except for the ongoing rumors about his secret businesses in the red kingdom. but seeing as i’d never been able to dig up any real proof, even that information was essentially useless. he was, for all means and purposes, untouchable.

“goddamn.” i sat on the chair pietro had abandoned, staring blankly at the still-unopened wine bottle he’d left. “i mean, i’d heard cide was moving in on the red kingdom, but i thought that was just a rumor. i guess this thing is bigger than i thought.”

“it’s bigger than we both thought.” vincent offered a hand to me and helped me up. “c’mon. we need to get a message to our friends in the black kingdom, and we need to hurry. this assassination attempt isn’t even the full story yet.”

“what? what could he possibly be planning other than getting rid of us and taking control of the entire goddamn red kingdom?”

i was very, very surprised and disturbed when for the first time ever, i saw a hint of fear in vincent’s features. 

“a whole lot,” he said grimly. “man, vi, you have no idea, do you? this whole thing? this is only the beginning.”

[blepbaek]

character bio

○ b a s i c f a c t s

full name: Eric Park née Kim

meaning: ever or eternal leader

pronunciation: /ɛɹɪk/

nickname(s): Errie, corgi, smol pup

age: 25

birthday: 4th May

star sign: Taurus

star signs traits:

✩reliable

✩patient

✩devoted

birthplace: Bucheon, South Korea

occupation: musical theatre actor

○ f a m i l y

mothers:

Ji-Yeon Kim & Florie Kim née Richards - He adores his adoptive mothers more than anything in the world and he is so thankful that he has them. He thinks of them as his real parents and so he is very close with them. He often goes to see them whenever he can.

father: N/A

sibling(s):

★ Kai Kim - His little brother means so much to him. They’ve been through a lot together, and although he hates his birth parents, Kai is the only thing he thanks them for. He is very protective of him and would probably consider Kai his best friend.

aunts + uncles:

★Ji-hye Oh née Kim & Jung-nam Oh - He doesn’t see his aunt and uncle often other than family get-togethers. That doesn’t mean he isn’t fond of them though. They’re very supportive and friendly despite being a lot more upper class than him.

cousins:

★Sehun Oh - Sehun is one of his closest friends, let alone his cousin. Despite the fact he is always teasing him and complaining about him, he loves him a lot. Sehun is one of the few people that Errie feels like he can talk too in complete confidence.

★Irene Oh - Errie isn’t as close to Irene as he is with her younger brother, nevertheless, he still adores her. He always finds it fun to wind up Irene, she pretends to dislike it but they always end up laughing about it. Irene always gives him very good advice and so he turns to her often.

★Amber Oh - Errie doesn’t see Amber often as she has moved away to work on her music, but whenever she visits, Errie loves it. He finds her hilarious and always loves being in her company. She always knows the right thing to say at the right time.

other family members:

★Seo-Eon & Seo-Joon - Errie has adored the twin boys ever since he first saw them. He still can’t believe they actually get to be his boys. Every time he sees them he tears up. He loves how cheek they are and how much they remind him of himself when he was younger.

○ f r i e n d s h i p s

❇︎Minseok Kim - Errie and he have been friends for a long time. Ernie always teases him and sometimes thinks that Min actually hates him but is reassured soon later. Errie relies on him for a lot of things and couldn’t ask for a better friend.

❇︎Tyler Kang - Errie met Tae during university. He was the third year while Tae was a first year. The two became friends due to someone in their shared society saying that they looked alike. Errie and Tae found it hilarious and even ended up wearing matching clothes. Even after Errie left university, the two have stayed close and now work together.

❇︎Kris Wu - Errie was scared of Kris at first and kept his distance from him. They first met when Errie started at the company, Kris had been there longer and had more experience and this frightened Errie. They got partnered up for a small task and Errie found that Kris was actually a sweetheart and is very passionate about music.

❇︎Lu Han - Errie met Lu through Minseok when the couple were together. He found the older yet younger looking boy intriguing and adorable. Though they aren’t too close, Errie still considers him a friend and knows the other boy would be there for him if he needed him.

❇︎Heechul Kim - Errie and Heechul have been friends since Errie was around 6. Heechul was in the children's home along with Errie and the younger boy found comfort in him. He always makes him laugh and Errie feels like Heechul knows him better than he knows himself.

❇︎Taeyeon Kim - The two have only become friends recently to make one of their late friends happy. After their relationship, they hated each other but now they’ve made up, apologising for their mistakes in the past and vowing to be happy for the other in where they are now.

❇︎Charlie Kim & Vincent Min - Errie works with the two but doesn’t see them outside of work too often. He still considers them friends though just because he finds them very easy to talk to.

❇︎Kyungsoo Do - Errie was very scared and intimidated by him at first. Despite the fact he was small, he had this look and power about him that made Errie scared. He didn’t expect him to start dating, let alone get engaged and married, to his shy little brother but Errie couldn’t be happier. He considers Kyungsoo one of his very close friends, he finds him fascinating and is thankful that he’s made his brother so happy.

❇︎THE SQUAD™

pets:

❊Donut - his pet Corgi

❊Toben - not his dog, but Errie believes he is co-owner

○ l o v e l i f e

sexuality: Bisexual

past relationships:

❥Taeyeon Kim - Tayeon was his first and only girlfriend. He was infatuated with her for at least 2 years before they finally got together. He found her amazing; her voice, her talent, her everything. If he could of made a new religion after her, then he probably would of. They where together for about 3-4 years before Tayeon was assaulted and things started decreasing, especially because Errie blamed himself for what happened to her. After losing her 2 month old son, Taeyeon’s mental health began decreasing and so she began to lose feelings for Errie. She decided to stay with him though, but had begun to cheat on him. Errie found out a few months later and was heartbroken. He begun to not believe in love because of her.

current relationship status:

❥Married to Chanyeol Park - Errie is so thankful for his husband. He allowed him to begin believing in love again and has made so many of his dreams come true. Errie knows that Chanyeol is his soulmate and can’t wait for them to have the twins and to start their little family together properly. He adores him and always will.

○ f a c t s

any disorders:

☞slight bipolar

any past or current illnesses:

☞past of depression

accent: Despite the fact that he is now fully fluent in English, his Korean accent is still very much there. He messes up on his pronunciation sometimes.

appearance: Errie has a baby face, with a small nose and very pouty lips. His hair is naturally black but he dyes it very often. He has a small mole above his lip and one near his eyebrow. He has very slender and thin hands, with a large mole on his thumb.

style: He often doesn’t care what he looks like. He values comfort above style and will often leave the house looking like he’s dressed in the dark. He loves wearing his husbands clothes, from t-shirts to hoodies to flannels to coats. He does like to dress up too. Normally loose fitting shirts with tight jeans. He loves wearing makeup and often has fun eye looks, and always with eyeliner.

height: 5'7

scars:

☞ a few on his arm

☞ a small one on his back from when he was younger

tattoos:

☞ N/A

marks:

☞ a small mole above his lip

☞ a small mole at the side of his eyebrow

☞ a larger mole on his thumb

piercings:

☞ both his ears and his cuff

beliefs:

Errie believes that everything happens for a reason. He has never been a devoted Christian, despite the fact his mothers always used to take him to church when he was younger.

○ b i o g r a p h y

background:

Errie and his brother where abandoned was Errie was 5 and Kai was 3. Their birth parents dabbled in drugs and often spent their rent money, for their small 1 bedroom apartment, on that and alcohol. They were way overdue on their rent and were in severe debt. They knew they needed to get away and they couldn’t do that with two kids and so they left them. Errie and Kai where found a few weeks later when the landlord came around for the rent. Both weren’t fed and washed and Errie hadn’t slept in days, too busy waiting and hoping their parents would come back. Errie had also been trying to look after Kai and had burned and hurt himself several times trying to make sure Kai was fed and looked after. The boys where sent to a mental rehabilitation centre after they where treated at the hospital for their hunger and medical issues from not being cleaned properly. After they where more healthier, both mentally and physically, they where sent to a children’s home. They would be there for 7 years, until Errie was 12 and Kai was 10. When their mothers adopted them, Errie was cautious that they too would abandon them. He soon realised that they weren’t going too and thought of this as his second chance at having parents.

school life:

Errie did well in school, despite the fact he wasn’t interested in any of the typical lessons and was constantly causing trouble. He was a quite popular kid, with many friends who also wanted to be musicians. In their second to last year of school, they formed a band. It was awful but they loved it. Errie moved to university, majoring in music and acting, knowing he wanted to be a musical actor. He got his degree with flying colours and was soon graduated to be a proper actor in the company he’d been working with since he left high school.

dreams + aspirations:

▹ believe in love again (done)

▹ get a pet corgi (done)

▹ get engaged on a beach (done)

▹ be married (done)

▹ adopt (done)

▹ be in a musical film

○ f a v o r i t e s + p e r s o n a l i t y

likes:

✾ music

✾ dogs

✾ baking

✾ video games

dislikes

✾ being tickled

✾ cleaning

✾ losing

✾ being upset

hobbies:

✾ singing/acting

✾ playing games

talents / skills:

✾ singing/acting

✾ baking

✾ hapkido

favorite-

movie: Harry Potter and The Order of The Phoenix

food: Japanese food

drink: Green tea

book: Harry Potter series

character: Scooby Doo

game: League of Legends

tv show: Game of Thrones (he’s also a secret lover of soppy tv dramas)

colour: black, grey & white

place: a small park by his mothers house

season: spring

quirks + habits:

✾ his always chews on his fingers

✾ he licks his lips a lot

✾ he’s very clingy and likes to hold people

fears:

✾ losing his family and loved ones

usual mood: quite happy and excited about life

○ e x t r a s

do they smoke? He tried one once and threw up.

do they drink? Yes.

- what are they like drunk?

It depends but usually he is a lot more excitable than usuals and loves to flirt with everyone he lays his eyes on. He never wants the night to end.

do they do any drugs? No.

notable objects:

▫︎ his promise ring, on a chain around his neck

▫︎ a bi-pride bracelet he always wears

▫︎ a polaroid of his mothers in his wallet

Hogwarts house? Slytherin

fave Pokemon character? Pikachu

if they could live in a fictional place, where? The Harry Potter universe

faceclaim:: Byun Baekhyun

[mredwinsmith]

Binge! The Food Feasts of Art History

As the Old Sing, So Pipe the Young by Jan Steen

An Artist’s Cornucopia of Gorgeous, Strange and Sometimes Grotesque Artworks Featuring Edibles

Let the feasting begin. As many of us prepare for, or are already in the midst of, this season of holidays, parties and fun, we decided to feast with our eyes first with a totally binge worthy showcase of food feasts of art history! It’s an artist’s cornucopia of gorgeous, strange and sometimes a little bit gross artworks featuring edibles.

Solo Feast

Annibale Carracci’s The Bean Eater is a depiction of a rough and tumble character sitting down to a hearty meal. With eyes looking directly outward, there’s an implied expectation that you, the viewer, are sharing his space and the dining hour, perhaps at a table across the way.

  The Bean Eater by Annibale Carracci

The Potato Eaters

A dark and coarse supper from the Post-Impressionist Vincent Van Gogh, The Potato Eaters is unlike the painter’s colorful landscape masterworks. The artist focused on the poverty and realness of peasants at table. In a letter, Van Gogh describes:

“You see, I really have wanted to make it so that people get the idea that these folk, who are eating their potatoes by the light of their little lamp, have tilled the earth themselves with these hands they are putting in the dish, and so it speaks of manual labor and — that they have thus honestly earned their food. I wanted it to give the idea of a wholly different way of life from ours — civilized people. So I certainly don’t want everyone just to admire it or approve of it without knowing why.”

  The Potato Eaters by Vincent Van Gogh

Eat Like an Egyptian

Courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Egyptian hieroglyphs depict agriculture at its most ancient. Food was a mainstay of tomb decorations because who wants to get hangry in the afterlife? One tomb features a couple at work planting and harvesting. Other paintings show figures in similar moments of farming. Still others depict servants processing with platters of fish, fruit and game.

It also turns out grains, despite art to the contrary, made up the bulk of the Egyptian’s diet from 3500 BC to 600 AD, with little meat and surprisingly little fish as well considering, well, the Nile.

Ancient Egyptian painting featuring figures with food: platters of fish, bushels of grapes, and game

Another ancient painting from the nearby Indus River Valley shows a female figure enjoying the fruits of (likely) someone else’s labor as she accepts a beverage from a standing attendant.

Painting from the Indus River Valley Civilization, which started in 2500 BCE

Sacred Feast

Dim mood lighting almost obscures the action of Caravaggio’s 1601 painting depicting the Supper at Emmaus. The central Christ figure has just nonchalantly revealed himself to his dining followers and they — arms outflung, lurching out of chairs–start to freak. That means getting up from a table carefully set by the artist.

Notice how Caravaggio heightens the drama (and shows off his skills) of the moment by placing the fruit basket in the foreground over the edge of the table.

  Supper at Emmaus by Caravaggio

  Last Suppers

As one of the most prominent stories of Western Christianity, the Last Supper has been featured in hundreds of artworks throughout the ages. Visual earmarks of the subject matter usual include Christ at the center of the tableau surrounded by his apostles, but even that is subject to change with plenty of artistic license thrown in for good measure.

  Last Supper, Mosaic in Basilica of Sant’Apollinare Nuovo

With Tiles

Early Christian mosaic depictions like those in Ravenna, Italy show a Last Supper not situated to a particular setting. The scene is simply cordoned off with a decorative border around the action. Christ is not in the center but on the far left, accentuated with a bejeweled halo and adorned in blue drapery.

Scale and perspective, obviously, were details the artists were still working on AKA wow, that’s a big fish. But having been made in the 6th century AD, we are cutting these tesserae artists some slack.

  The Last Supper by Andrea del Castagno

Last Supper by Domenico Ghirlandaio

With Variations

Artists like Andrea del Castagno, who painted his Last Supper in 1447, and Domenico Ghirlandaio, who did his some thirty years later in 1479, both placed Christ on the viewer’s side of the biblical dinner table, though they altered which position Christ faced.

This visual trope didn’t set any historical trends. But there’s much to note in these altarpieces including how trippy del Castagno’s backdrop of marble panels appear and wondering what Ghirlandaio meant by his inclusion of all those strangely huge birds in the background arches of his Last Supper.

  Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci

Setting Standards

It was Leonardo da Vinci’s Renaissance version of the Last Supper that really set the standard when it comes to historic iconography and presentation of the subject. He was the only Ninja Turtle to do a painting of the Last Supper that survives to date. Michelangelo, Donatello and Raphael have none to their names. Leo’s visual language would influence generations of artists and plenty of 21st century memes.

And definitely not a Last Supper?!

Feast at the House of Levi by Paolo Veronese

Last Supper by Veronese, detail of jester

Last Supper by Veronese, detail of drunkards

Last Supper by Veronese, detail of underage drunkards

Veronese came almost a century after Leonardo. He definitely upped the ante when it came to production value. His Last Supper appears in a much more splendid setting than Leonardo’s and also included a ton of extras…who almost got him strung up for heresy during the Inquisition.

Yup, Veronese’s “buffoons, drunken Germans, dwarfs and other such scurrilities” along with apostles carving up lamb (that would be St. Peter) and picking their teeth with forks were harshly critiqued and questioned by officials.

Change it up…fast

Veronese though turns out to have been quite a pivot master. He simply made a few adjustments to the painting and asserted that the Last Supper wasn’t a Last Supper at all. No, this is a depiction of the Feast in the House of Levi. Totally different, judges. Toooooootally different. Subject closed. Neck of artist, saved.

  There’s a Squash on Your Face

Giuseppe Arcimboldo, whose name this writer always confuses with saltimbocca (points though because that’s a food?), painted portraits of people as food. A set of eyebrows become strands of wheat. There’s a cucumber for a nose. Fish tails do the duty of a goatee. You get the gastronomic picture.

Food fetishist, a little imbalanced, or simply painting what his 16th-century Italian audience were into? It’s most likely the latter according to most scholars. Renaissance peeps loved riddles, puzzles and the strange, and Arcimboldo’s paintings are an edible array of all three.

  Autumn by Giuseppe Arcimboldo

    The Most Sumptuous of All

When it comes to paintings that really put the ‘feast’ into the food, we have only to look one place: the Dutch Republic. Dutch painters in Antwerp in the 1640s developed the still life style of pronkstilleven, which is Dutch speak for hella food feast. Also, perhaps more literally translated as ostentatious, ornate or sumptuous still life.

The Feasts

Pronkstilleven by Carstian Luyckx

Enter the lobsters, the meat pies, the fowl and fish, the oysters, the piles of glowing fruit, the gorgeous goblets and tankards of ale, and the stultifying curls of lemon peel. Enter the diversity of foods, vessels, gleaming glass, table settings and rich drapery.

Enter the not-so-everyday abundance as painted by dozens of Flemish artists with haute cuisine foremost in their minds including Frans Snyders, Adriaen van Utrecht, Jan Davidsz. de Heem, Nicolaes van Verendael, Alexander Coosemans, Carstian Luyckx, Jasper Geeraards, Peter Willebeeck, Abraham van Beyeren, Willem Kalf, Osias Beert, and Cornelis Norbertus Gijsbrechts.

Banquet Still Life by Abraham van Beyeren

  A Table of Desserts by Jan Davidsz. de Heem

  Still Life with Lobster by Jasper Geeraerts

Banquet Still Life by Abraham van Beyeren

Dishes with Oysters, Fruit, and Wine by Osias Beert the Elder

Pronkstilleven by Petrus Willebeeck

Eat and Learn

The pronkstilleven isn’t just about the eating extravaganza. There’s a moral to the story. It goes something like “you’ll never fill that hole in your life, no matter how much you stuff yourself.”

It could possibly be put a bit more eloquently in terms of the high genre of vanitas paintings, in which the empty or overturned glasses depicted speak to the vacant feelings inside that only moderation and temperance — not displays of wealth — can satisfy. The ostentatious spreads you see serve as warnings to not put your life in service to material things…despite inclusion of all the material things.

Pronkstillevens with a Side of Weird

But leave it to the artists to go a little off the rails with a theme. So from fancy snacks and highbrow eats, we go to:

Food feast, the menagerie edition! Also ew…who would eat a peacock?!

A Pantry by Adriaen van Utrecht

Food feast, the strange pets edition! Also ew…why is your dog smaller than the lobster on the table?!

Banquet Still Life by Adriaen van Utrecht

Food feast, the put-the-turkey-back-together edition! Also ew…why did you put the turkey back together and put it on the table on top of his own parts-made-into-pie self?! We know Jonathan Rhys Meyers as Henry VIII did a swan version of this in The Tudors (super bootleg clip if you want to see for yourself) and we still don’t care.

Food feast, the monkeys-need-to-eat edition! Also yay…the monkeys-need-to-eat edition? Did you know there is an entire painting genre called singerie devoted to depicting monkeys dressed up and doing human things…like having parties and feasting? The Dutchman Nicolaes van Verendael made several including the one you see here.

Feast of the Monkeys by Nicolaes van Verendael

The Butcher and the Baker

Less look at my bling and more men and women at work, there are several Dutch masterworks riffing on the historic “pre-processing” of comestibles. That includes depictions of market stalls and butchers and food mongers prepping their wares.

  Market Scene on a Quay by Frans Snyders

Kitchen by Adriaen van Utrecht

Cook at a Kitchen Table with Dead Game by Frans Snyders

Fishmonger’s Stall by Adriaen van Utrecht

Raid the Pantry

The Spanish have a food-in-art genre going strong as well, dating back to the 1600s. The bodegón tradition hit its stride with Baroque painters like Velazquez, Juan Sanchez Cotan, Zurbaran and Luis Melendez. It encompasses still life paintings depicting kitchen items plus food and drink, found in pantries or wine cellars, which is where the term derives.

Bodegón by Juan Sánchez Cotán

In contrast to the Dutch tradition, bodegóns are presented simply, almost austerely. It is about the everyday, not the exceptional. There’s no banquet table set. These bleak “meals” are displaed on spare wood blocks or stone shelves. This is the cook’s prep table, with animals waiting to be skinned and fruits and vegetables in the raw.

Bodegón by Juan van der Hamen

But the vanitas thread loops these two still life genres together, with the Dutch cautioning the excess and the Spanish evoking mindfulness of the meager or lean times, when inner faith and fortitude must do the heavy lifting.

Bodegón by Francisco Zurbarán

What cannot be denied is the surreal look of the bodegón, which are often cast in shadows and set in peculiar places, but that simply serves to make them all the more notable.

Let’s Eat!

Diego Velazquez vibes with the bodegon tradition on several canvases including Old Woman Frying Eggs and The Lunch. Though the vibes are at different ends of the spectrum. The latter painting is way up and the former piece is way down. But food is the thing that unites them.

  The Lunch by Diego Velazquez

Old Woman Frying Eggs by Diego Velazquez

Wholesome Orchard Bounty

From a handful to a basketful, Post-Impressionist Paul Cezanne displayed apples and oranges in numerous ways in his equally numerous still life paintings. A jelly maker’s dream, Cezanne’s fruity canvases also bridge two -isms of art (Impressionism and Cubism) with their often disorienting lines of perspective and emphasis on planes.

  Still Life with Seven Apples by Paul Cezanne

The Basket of Apples by Paul Cezanne

Cake, Cake and More Cake…Also Pie

For close to fifty years Wayne Thiebaud has taken edibles as a painting subject. Certainly not his only subject but cakes, pies, gumballs, hot dogs and ice cream cones do grace more than several of his brightly colored canvases.

The compositions mostly echo the neat rows of a food counter or assembly line, perhaps harking back to Thiebaud’s teenage experience working at Mile High and Red Hot, a Long Beach, California cafeteria in the 1930s.

  Cakes and Pies by Wayne Thiebaud

Pie Counter by Wayne Thiebaud

  Naughty Foodie

Will Cotton’s career as a painter is all about exploiting food cravings. His works depict landscapes of cupcakes, candies and melting ice cream and skies of cotton candy. He ups the sexy quotient by sometimes including nude and semi-nude figures — including celebs like Katy Perry — frolicking and lounging in his candy lands or adorned with the sticky foodstuffs itself.

  Crown by Will Cotton

    Meat Joy

Carolee Schneemann’s 1964 performance “Meat Joy” featured choreographed dance, scantily clad men and women participants, much writhing, body paint, and raw meat. Schneemann, a leading feminist artist known for her provocative, somewhat brutish works, performed the modern masterwork in London and New York to agog audiences.

  Campbell’s Soup Cans by Andy Warhol

Canned Food Drive

Andy Warhol first presented these 32 individual canvases in 1962, putting the works side by side just as if they were actual cans of soup on a grocery store’s shelves. Each canvas represents a different flavor of Campbell’s soup that Warhol hand-painted and hand-stamped with an eye toward the mass-produced ads the artist was inspired by.

  Untitled by Feliz Gonzalez-Torres

Poignant Candies

In corners, around columns, in stairwells–Felix Gonzalez-Torres’ untitled candy performance-cum-changeable-sculpture pieces have been placed in humble settings across numerous museum floors worldwide. Visitors to the installations are invited to take a piece of the work…and the rest is up to them. Consume the candy. Keep it forever. Throw it away or pass it to a friend. The underlying message of the work harks back to the dark days the AIDS epidemic and the diminishing pile of candy represents those lost (or forsaken) to the disease.

  Courtesy Michael Parker

Squeeze My Citrus

Artist Michael Parker, best known for his Cali land art installations, prompted visitors at his 2015 Juiceworks show to squeeze piles of gorgeously arranged citrus fruits using dozens of ceramic tools he’d made.

  Courtesy Salad for President

Salad for President

Artist and salad activist Julia Sherman, author of the blog Salad for President, created rooftop garden installations at the Getty Center in Los Angeles and MoMA PS1 in New York in 2014 and 2015. Guest artists were asked to make salads from the produce Sherman grew, which included more than 50 heirloom herbs, vegetables and edible flowers.

  Floor Burger by Claes Oldenburg

Inflatable Snacks

No binge-worthy food feast art history round-up would be complete without the Floor Burger by Claes Oldenburg. It is the epitome of modern art in food…or would that be modern food in art? You can’t eat it but you could definitely jump on this supersized junk food. Though the risk is museum banning you for life. #tradeoffs #worthit

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