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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years ago

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Dawn in Your Eyes Part 22

Summary: Alfie has little to no idea why Caroline ever gave him the time of day. The blind woman seemed far too sensible to even speak to him. But soon he finds himself falling helplessly in love.

Part 22: Alfie and Caroline find that there’s something more harrowing than a brief marital disagreement.

TW: antisemitism

“Mr. Solomons.” Candace hesitated to approach the man’s office. She had heard the shouting back and forth between him and Caroline as she put a plaster on Chava’s hand. It was nothing she wanted to get involved in. But Caroline had called for her and insisted that Candace bring Alfie back to the bedroom.

But Alfie didn’t look to be in the mood for any conversation. “What is it?” He asked gruffly.

The young woman wrung her hands together. “Well, Mrs. Solomons was asking if you would return to speak with her further.” She explained.

“Does she? Well, tell her that I ain’t talking about anything else with her today. She’s being reckless, frankly, and I won’t have anything to do with it.” He replied curtly.

Candace had a fondness for the Solomons family, ever since she had been brought in to care for Caroline during her pregnancy. She thought they were lovely people, having seen them in a vulnerable state of domesticity. But that still didn’t erase Alfie’s temper.

So, she tried another approach. “Perhaps, you could talk to me about it?”

He lifted his head to look at her with scrutiny.

“I often find that if you tell someone else your side of the story, you can see things a bit clearer.” She explained with a shaky voice. She was just waiting for Alfie to throw her out of the house for being so nosy and prying into his personal business.

But instead, he sighed. “She wants more children.” He waved a hand to the chair that was sat across from his desk.

Candace took the invitation and sat down.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea ‘cause of what happened with Chava. I ain’t gonna lose her to something that could be avoidable. If we don’t have any more children then we don’t run the risk of-well whatever could happen.”

Candace nodded. “I understand you want to be cautious. But I suppose you could understand Mrs. Solomons too. She told me it was customary to have a big family.”

“Yeah, s’pose it is.” He grumbled. “But tradition be damned, her life comes first.”

“Right, I understand.” Candace nodded. “I think…you’re both right and unfortunately there’s no way of knowing how things will go if you do have more children. But I guess that’s what life is all about. We don’t know how many days we have left.” She shrugged. “It’s about making the best of what you have right now.”

Alfie scratched his beard as he looked at her. “That’s very Jewish.” He said. “Creating heaven in this life, now.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize…”

“No, it’s good. Makes sense. Rational, innit? Life should be celebrated.”

She smiled. “Right.”

“Very profound, Candy.” He praised. “I thought Chava was a fast learner because of me but it might be because of you.” He chuckled and stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I should go talk to Caroline.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a few conversations between Alfie and Caroline before they reached an agreement. They would go ahead with having more children as long as there was both a midwife and a doctor at hand during the birth. And if possible, she would give birth in a hospital instead of the home.

But the rest was up to fate.

Meanwhile, Chava celebrated her second birthday. As she grew and learned, Alfie and Caroline were testing the waters to see if she could recognize Caroline’s blindness. Or at least understand it. It proved difficult as she seemed too young to comprehend but old enough to know something was different.

As her temper started to develop a little more, it became very clear that she was her father’s daughter. She could throw a fit like no other and when she wanted to be loud, she could be ear piercing.

Much to Alfie’s chagrin, Chava was a little sponge and would pick up on anything he did or said. She stomped her feet to imitate the heavy sound of his boots in the home. She swore like a sailor and there wasn’t anything Caroline or Alfie could do to change that. Alfie tried to change his vocabulary in front of the toddler but it was too late.

Alfie was in hot water for a bit with Caroline and Julia but it was something they had to live with.

Aside from her mouth and occasional temper, Chava was a lovely little girl. She adored her parents and loved nothing more than just spending time with them.

When Alfie came home in the evening, Chava would run to him with a big grin on her face. And every single time, the stress rolled right off his shoulders. He picked her up and held her close, greeting her warmly.

~~~~~~~~~~

One night, however, her smile wouldn’t be able to cure his stress. As he came home, Caroline met him at the door instead of their daughter.

There was worry creased into her face and Alfie was terrified that something had happened to Chava.

“Carrie, what’s wrong?”

“My aunt just called. Her office building was just set on fire. Or-or bombed, they don’t know yet.” Tears were slipping down her cheeks.

“What?” It certainly wasn’t the news he was expecting. “Just now?”

She nodded, clearly just as confused as he was.

“Right, wait here.” He instructed. “I’ll be right back.”

“No, you need to stay!” She reached out to him. “It isn’t safe. Not until we know what really happened.”

“This might be…” Well, Alfie could come up with a few different potential causes. Sure, it might have been an accident, but he wasn’t counting on it. In fact, he was already lining up a list of suspects in his head. However, that meant that the attack was ultimately his fault. Whoever it was, if they were his enemy, they were trying to get back at him for something. Now Caroline’s family and their business were in the line of fire.

“It’ll be alright.” He assured her. He took her hand in his and kissed her forehead. “Call Ollie. Have him bring Shayna and the kids over. I want everyone to be together until we figure this out. I’ll send Julia here when I get there.”

Caroline nodded but still looked worried. “Just hurry, please.”

“I will.”

~~~~~~~~~

Alfie rushed across town. There was a plume of smoke leading the way to the scene. People had gathered at a far enough distance to see what had happened. There were quiet whispers as he pushed his way through. A police car had already pulled up as the fire was starting to be put out.

Judging by a quick glance at the smoldering remains of the building, there was little chance it was a small accident.

Alfie found Julia talking with a police officer. Her hand was clutched to her chest. The usually iron-tough woman was shaken by the near-death experience.

“Julia.” He approached.

“Oh, Alfie.” She touched his arm, her hand trembling. “Thank God, you’re alright. Caroline thought maybe something had happened to you.”

“I’m alright. What happened?”

The cop didn’t look too pleased to see the notorious gangster intruding. “Move along, Alfie, this has nothing to do with you.”

His eyes darkened. “This is me family, mate. Has more to do with me than it does you. So why don’t you fuck off and find out who did this?” Though, he didn’t really put that much trust in the police to figure out the truth.

Yet, he could be wrong. “We know who did it.” The officer responded sharply.

“Yeah? Who was it then?” Alfie demanded, ready to put his hands around the neck of whatever lowlife committed the crime.

“It’s not any of your business. Scotland Yard will take care of it. Stay away from the matter, lest you want to be locked up for interfering.”

“That a fucking threat?” He snarled. “You better fucking tell me who it was or I’m going to-”

“Alfie, enough.” Julia interrupted sternly. She knew her niece would be a wreck if he was locked up for threatening an officer. “I’d like to see Caroline, let’s go now.”

He glared at the cop. “You’re lucky. I’m gonna find out, you can put money on that, mate.” He jabbed a finger at him before ushering Julia away from the building that was crumbling.

~~~~~~~~~

Before they entered the flat, Alfie stopped Julia. “Did he tell you?”

“Not who they were. But he said they’re fascists.” She answered quietly. “Blackshirts.”

Suddenly, it went beyond Alfie. This was no petty retaliation from the Titanic or Sabini. It had nothing to do with who Julia was associated with. It had to do with their identities.

Alfie could handle people not liking him. Whether they disliked his occupation, his sinful behavior, his kill count, or his distasteful personality. That was all well and good. But once people started targeting his religion, he felt like he could black out from rage. The heart of his people being aimed at like they weren’t even humans. It was sickening. And it was getting closer and closer to home. There was no ignoring it, no chalking it up to a bunch of radical morons with twisted ideology. No, it was serious and far beyond Alfie’s scope of power. Still, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything about it.

~~~~~~~

Caroline hugged her aunt close, relieved she had made it out alive. But she was still confused. “Did you speak with the police?”

“Let’s not concern ourselves with that.” Julia shared a look of discomfort with Alfie. Neither of them was really in the mood to discuss the root of the crime. It felt horrendous saying out loud. “Let’s just be thankful no one was killed.”

Caroline nodded somberly. “Alfie, Chava is upstairs asking for you.”

“Alright, I’ll tuck her in. Just want to talk to Ollie first.” He gave his wife a quick peck before going to find Ollie.

He and Shayna were sitting in the parlor. Their three children were there as well. The two eldest seemed frightened by what was going on, but the youngest was asleep, unaware.

“Ollie.” Alfie jerked his head to the kitchen.

His assistant understood and stood up to follow. “Did they say anything?”

“Fascists.” He replied quietly.

The young man looked confused. The Blackshirts had been in the news but it seemed like a distant worry. Surely something so insane would be written off by the general public before anything would really happen. “Here?”

Alfie nodded. “Scotland Yard’s looking into it, guess they know who did it. Be honest, I doubt they’ll be put in prison. If they do, won’t be for long.”

Ollie looked wary. “Sir…I don’t think whatever you’re thinking of doing is a good idea.”

His boss narrowed his eyes. “So, we’re just supposed to let those fuckers do whatever they want? Next time there’ll be people in the building, Ollie.” He snapped. “And we’re gonna be wondering why we didn’t do anything sooner.”

“But, sir, this is something bigger.” He reminded Alfie. “It’s a political party. They aren’t just a small gang.”

“A group of violent men with a set of beliefs is a gang. Don’t care if they have a political party. Fuck it, I could have a political party if I wanted. All I care is that they come to realize that they ain’t coming back into Camden ‘less they want consequences.”

“Well,” Ollie knew there was little chance of talking him out of anything. “Tomorrow I can see what we might be able to find out about what the Yard knows. Though, we don’t have any informants on the inside.”

“I know someone who does.” Alfie nodded. “I’m going to bring Caroline and Chava to Margate tomorrow. If you’d like Shayna to go as well, that can be arranged.” If he could just pick Camden up and out of London and move all the people to safety, he would. But at the same time, Alfie was afraid of budging. He would not be chased out of his own territory. His family was forced out of Russia because of being Jewish. Alfie was not being forced out anymore. He was staying put.

//Holy moly I’m so sorry for the delay in this. I kept going back to the document but was in such a block that I just had to put it aside for a bit. It’s been so long since I uploaded that 90% of my tag list deactivated 😂

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @thinkingsofamadwoman

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#Alfie solomons #alfie solmons x oc #ofc #oc #ocs #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #tom hardy #tom hardy character #tom hardy fanfiction

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icarus-suraki · 3 years ago

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weird asks: 4, 9, 15, 21, 40, 49, 61

Sorry for the late reply. My depression decided to sneak up behind me and steal my corpus callosum.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

I don't actually know, so I'm making this up based on what I recall... Bright but somewhat inattentive. Can't write a lowercase R in cursive to save her life (I got bad grades in handwriting all through 2nd grade). Sometimes anxious. Not a troublemaker at all; if she is disruptive, it's by accident more than by intent. Very creative and imaginative.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

There's this smell I'll come across in the evenings sometimes, especially when I'm driving home from work on these little country roads around here. I always thought it was clover, but I think it's maybe elderflower? It's sweet and floral, but not a "bright" sweetness; it's more of a dark floral, if that makes sense. Kind of low and evening-colored (that makes sense, right?). But it's fantastic to just find myself in a cloud of it on a humid evening. I will literally drive with my car windows open some nights just to smell it, it's that good.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

This is tricky because the things that I liked the most weren't books, per se. I absolutely loved Hamlet and King Lear (King Lear is always associated with the Led Zeppelin "Stairway to Heaven" poster--long story). And I absolutely loved T. S. Eliot's poems. Like, damn, this is so much better than the rhyme-rhyme-rhyme shit I'd seen before. Like, sir. Damn. That was all high school, though. College? Hmm... See, I was an English major so I read a lot (or claimed to have read a lot and just BS'd my way through the tests). Reading As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner was a Moment, in part because I realized that my mom had summarized the story for me when I was a kid. Same thing with Spencer's The Faerie Queene--I think I surprised my professor with that one. Once I hit post, I'll probably think of a bunch of others.

21. obsession from childhood?

Oof. That depends on what age we're talking about here. Because Sesame Street was a big one when I was very small, then Muppet Babies when I got a little older. Any Muppet thing mesmerized me, according to my mom (I still love them). I loved playing dress-up (let's be honest: I still do, only I call it cosplay now) and dancing and playing pretend (and I still do). I drew constantly--especially bleeding hearts flowers, but also anthropomorphic animals in elaborate outfits and these creatures I called alligator birds. My Little Pony toys were everywhere in my house growing up--the original MLP, the good MLP. That was definitely still going strong in elementary school. I was really into A Wrinkle in Time and most of the other Madeline L'Engle books in about 4th grade onward. 6th grade I was hung up on blue-and-gold celestial designs (it was the 1990s) and everything purple. I got ahold of a really basic AM/FM cassette Walkman about this time and I discovered that there was actually Good Music in the world, not just children's music and I got so obsessed with just what you could find on the radio. I used up so many batteries and just wore out headphones and it was wonderful. I know somewhere in this span I started reading the Elfquest comics (n.b.: I was probably too young but I only realize that now) and got really into wolves and the particular version of elves that Wendy and Richard Pini created (I would shank someone for a chance to meet them) and did a lot of drawing of Wendy Pini's style of elves. I think I discovered anime by way of Sailor Moon when I was about 12 or 13 (and that's still an obsession) and started drawing anime-style characters A Lot. Somewhere in middle school, some friends and I started doing text-based RP via email, which sounds bizarre but we sure did it and it was very Mary Sueful but we had fun. I started writing a lot in and around then--maybe 7th, 8th grade? Mostly fantasy and, of course, lots of Mary Sues (but I really think that the Sue Stage is an important developmental stage, truly). I got sent a quiz by a friend in about 7th or 8th grade that was supposed to determine if you were a "starseed" and that got me into UFOs and Atlantis and ESP and some New Age-y stuff, which was actually a lot of fun (bless my mom for tolerating that). And since I was getting bullied a bit at this point in my life, maybe it was good that I had this "I'm special, I'm actually from another planet and I am important there" thing to hang on to. I know I was super-obsessed with the computer games Myst and Riven about this time--to the point of writing self-insert fanfiction. The hyper-religiosity (mainstream religion, mostly variations of Protestant Christianity) period among myself and my friends was no fun, but there we were, and I guess that counts as an obsession. There are theories that this developmental period is some of the background to the Salem Witch Trials, but I digress. I guess that gets me up to about high school. So, how's that?

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

I mean, I guess there were always the bomb threats that made us all evacuate the school and hang around outside for a while. I didn't witness it, but I heard that once the cops brought drug dogs through the school and this one kid jumped up, grabbed his backpack, and ran out of the school and into the woods nearby because he had a bong in his backpack. There were the kids who'd stage a fight in the courtyard of the school so everyone would come running over and then their friends would throw water balloons on the crowd. There was this one girl who told people she was from another planet, and that was weird (me. that was me.). I dunno, I don't know of anything really weird happening at my school, in any grade. It was pretty quiet.

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

"If you work for a living, why do you kill yourself working?" --Tuco, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

That's a tough one... It might be "the heaventree of stars hung with humid, nightblue fruit" which comes from the "Ithaca" chapter of Ulysses.

#ask game #long post

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veniivici · 4 years ago

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––– i believe that is 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐬 , the queen of porvo . they are thirty - one years old and are known to be very maternal & discerning , though they can also be very supercilious & reticent . they remind me of condescending smiles matching an underlying superiority complex , an exterior adorned in hues which radiate warmth contrasting the internal callous disposition , and a strong devotion to what is their's and only their's alone .

hi y’all , i’m arin and i’m very new here , although i do remember seeing this rp in the tags back way back when and i always wanted to create my own muse for it . so uh here a girl is ! fun fact this is also my first rp in a while , like over a year srsly , so if i’m rusty & awkward don’t be afraid to make fun of me or bully me , i can take it i’m a big TOUGH girl . YUP , thank you . so this is my girl feray , our porvo queen , and there’s some things considering who she is below if you care to browse over that . like this if you want to plot or be friends , i dunno , do whatever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ also , if no one’s told you yet : happy holidays and i’m sending you , whoever’s reading this , a hug !

find a bunch of statistics here .

an overview on her personality : first things foremost , feray is a mother above all things . she loves her children to pieces , ‘cause to her they are literally pieces of herself , whom she loves a lot too . she would give everything for them and to them --- like she would murder or like end the entire world , i don’t know , but basically she LOVES them and would do anything to protect them or keep them happy . other than that , feray is very much so steadfast to her country and family , loyal and dutiful to her husband and his crown , as well as to her countrymen and women . the other countries and people , on the other hand --- not so much . she really does not care for any of them , like AT ALL ( yup not the biggest fan of attending the whole gathering with everyone ) . she feels porvo is above these other countries , and it is VERY evident in the way she conducts herself . she’s haughty , cold , and critical , and a little bit of a bitch with everyone who isn’t from porvo or associates themselves with porvo ; porvo people she’s aight with , and is proud to serve as their good and dutiful queen . ( oh by the way , if you were part of the alliance that was against porvo’s side in the whole war thing , she pretty much holds a very strong disdainful prejudice against you that’s gonna be pretty hard to shake bruv :/ ) long story short , feray doesn’t want to be here and just wants to go home .

brief overview about her past : feray grew up into an extremely affluent household in porvo , where although they held no nobility or title , they were still extremely close to the royal family through their insane ability to fund and supply whatever the crown desired . she was the oldest of five , all girls , and it was from there where she began to take on a motherly role , raising her younger sisters alongside her own mother . in addition , she grew up an extremely astute child , doing exceptional in her studies and growing up to be the pride of her family --- beautiful & capable , a perfect bride - to - be . sure enough by the age of eighteen , she was betrothed to the crown prince of porvo , an arrangement she honestly was fine with due to her already familiarity with her betrothed and his family . sooooo thirteen years pass and she’s married with three young , legitimate children as queen of porvo , an occupation and life she is no doubt happy with . nothing can change ! listen she will rip someone’s throat out if they cause her life any more uneasiness from the political conflict . the strife must pass soon , so she can go back to her home and people and no longer having to conference with foreigners . of course , if we’re here and talking politics ... she does wish for more for her country and family , more power maybe ?

open to any connections !

#this is RUSHED ! but i wanted to get something out !#imperialrp.intro

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hilllsnholland · 5 years ago

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Undeniable (Grey’s Anatomy Inspired)

Attending!Tom Holland x Resident!Reader

Wc: 4.2k

Warnings: medical talk, swearing, smut

Summary: It’s a beautiful day to save lives....and get freaky in the on-call room

A/N: I maaaay have watched a little too much Grey’s lately because all I want is to write some sexy Doctor smut. Also, I know nothing about the medical field. If I get something wrong, who cares? It’s fanfiction. Or you can message me nicely. Either way, enjoy this mess of feelings.

_____

Hospital life was not all it was cracked up to be. You learned that your first year interning, having to clean patient’s cavities and do the dirty work for your Resident. Yet, somehow it was the most calming place in the world. You could have a full day of rounds, surgeries, and post-ops and you’d still feel like the luckiest person in the world to work at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital.

Although it did have its moments, like now. As soon as you stepped onto your usual floor you were bombarded by your interns. They asked you questions that you were far too busy for, begging for a chance to scrub in on a surgery with you that day. You didn’t even have any for them to even pick from. But interns were savages. Birds picking at dead skeletons hoping to prove their worth. You remembered those days so you went easy on them. Giving them chances and building them up, but today was not a day of compassion. It was tough love day.

“Doctor Y/L/N, patient in room 304 needs-”

“Is it something you can do?” You interrupted while looking down on your papers.

“I mean yes but-”

“You don’t need permission to be a Doctor, Reid.” You handed your interns paperwork for rounds and sighed. “Reid, go with Maloney and deal with whatever the patient needs. Unless he’s literally dying I don’t want to be bothered,”

Your interns nodded at you like a bunch of children, grabbing their round work and rushing off into the rooms. Sometimes you swore they’d be the death of you. They needed confidence, which is why you set them loose on days like these. It wasn’t busy, just routine surgeries and looking after patients. It was vital they learned how to do busy work. Not every day you’re a hero. Even though you felt particularly heroic today so you scanned the surgery board, looking at today’s schedule and noticed a General surgery that piqued your interest.

“Hello Doctor Princess,” Harrison greeted you, leaning over the nurse's station.

“Morning Doctor McHottie,”

Harrison grinned but pretended to roll his eyes at you. He was playful, young, and bright. A Trauma God is what the interns called him. He was a master of problem solving in tight situations, which is why you admired him. Harrison moved next to you, whistling at the board.

“I think a certain someone will be asking you to scrub in today?” He hummed, winking at you.

“Would that be you?”

“Sadly not, it’s me darling,”

You and Harrison shot to your left, seeing Tom coolly writing in his paperwork. His curls were pushed back, giving him that sexy relaxed look. You try to hide the redness coming to your skin by smiling at the Attending, but your heart was pounding in your chest. You’ve scrubbed in with Tom plenty of times, but it always happened like this. You would get all child-like, shaking in anticipation to show your worth. You were like an intern again. It was a constant battle, but the surgery was worth it.

“I can’t wait,” You nod to Tom who smiles. Harrison mocks you and you slam your elbow into his side.

Tom walks past you, eyes locked on yours with the most sensual smirk on his lips. Tom was a sight at the hospital. Attractive, young, and a heart of gold. He was everything you wanted in a doctor and more. As Tom walks away from you, there’s a glimpse of something in his eyes. Longing? Fierceness? You weren’t sure, but it was sexy. The thirst was aching in your heart, to get more than a somewhat friendly, somewhat work, relationship with him. Tom looks directly into your eyes and you stop.

“It’s a beautiful day to save lives,”

____

“You’re a petty prick!”

“And you’re a self-serving psychopath!”

That did not last long, you heard Harrison mutter as you and Tom rushed out of the operating room. You slammed your gloves into the disposal bin, tossing aside your scrub cap while Tom followed close behind. He was fuming, veins popping from his neck and eyes narrowed on you. He disposed of his bloodied garments while you slammed the door in his face. The two of you were pissed at each for what was the hundredth time.

This time though it was inexcusable. Tom didn’t trust you in the surgery and belittled your judgment. It was a routine procedure that went horribly wrong. There was too much bleeding and the patient's heart was flatlining. You did what you thought would be the most efficient, cutting out the rest of the mass and finishing the job. Tom, however, was upset as he was leading the surgery, and you took over.

“Y/N, don’t walk away from me,” Tom keeps his voice calm around the nurses and patients but you kept walking.

You needed a break. It was a long surgery and you needed to get away from Tom. After working with him for several years you would have hoped that he trusted you but nope. He treated you like that small minded intern that he met so long ago. That was your worst fear. Being just a child to the older surgeons. They would never respect you the way they respected their peers, especially male peers. Harrison said you were making it up in your head, but this just proved it. Suddenly though you were dragged into an on-call room. Tom shuts the door and crosses his arms at you, like a father lecturing their child. It angered you, causing the heat in your stomach to rise.

“Y/N, you put the patient at risk with that stunt you pulled-“

“I saved his life!”

Stubborn, a word that everyone would associate with you. It was clear to you though that you did what was right. You saved the man’s life, ruling out the need for a second surgery. In your eyes, you were a hero.

“You didn’t know that though!” Tom raises his voice and throws his hands up. “You could have made it worse. You may have made his recovery harder than it needed to be. You were rushed and could have left pieces of the mass behind. You don’t know Y/N.”

Tom had snapped, but not in frustration, tears were brimming to his eyes. In all your years you’ve only seen Tom cry a few times. Only after losing a truly emotional patient or a child. And that one time he got so drunk at the Christmas party that he cried over a kitten pillow. This though, he was serious. His body shook with such ferocity you’ve never seen before. He was shaken, humiliated to be outright disregarded in his own surgery. Completely torn because you didn’t trust him.

“Tom, I’m sorry,” You speak softly. “I just wanted to save this man’s life. Make it easier for him to go back to his family. I’m sorry,”

Tom rested his head on the top bunk of the on-call beds. He looked a mess, something was eating him up inside. There was so much pressure on him, on his team, on this whole entire hospital. It was something you never thought of when in surgery. It was only you and the patient. Everything else was background noise to your end goal. It sounds selfish, but it had the highest success rate yet. You thought you had control, but watching Tom break down made it clear that what you did was irresponsible.

“Y/N, you got a lot of heart.” Tom rubs his face and pushed the hair out of his face. “More heart than a surgeon needs. You put the good of the world over the reality of medicine. One of the reasons why I admire you most is because you look death in the eyes and tell him ‘fuck you’”

You laugh and Tom cracks a smile through his broken composure. For years it had been this weird friendship between the two of you. One or both of you would get pissed, someone makes a joke, and then it’s all better. Most of the time it was stolen glances, smiles behind surgical masks, or late night drinks at the bar.

So many nights at the bar though, drinking shots of tequila or vodka. If you wanted to see someone drink themselves into oblivion, watch a doctor. It was some sort of right of passage to drink at Emerald City Bar across the street, drowning sorrows from the day’s surgeries or consultations. The Bar was a safe place, and an amazing place to sit down with Tom and have existential talks late at night. Talks that became so passionate, so intimate, that you felt the sexual tension coursing through the room. Many times you thought Tom would take the leap of faith, but here you were, becoming flushed by his simple compliment.

“I admire you also,” You take a step forward. “You’re the only surgeon in this fucking hospital who gives a shit. I’ve seen you send holiday cards to your old patients. You make them feel safe. You make them your family,”

Tom exhales softly, his body moving on its own to get closer to you. It was undeniable at this point. All the frustration was stemming from his urge to have you. Long nights on call he would think of you to calm his nerves. Even nights away at the hospital he wished you were to banter with him, keep him warm, and satisfy his needs. It was against every code he set for himself but he wanted to kiss you so badly.

“Y/N, although I’ve been a surgeon longer than you have, I feel like you’ve taught me more than any professor or chief.” Tom’s fingers dance up your arms. “You are a brilliant surgeon. You are the sun and we are only the planets and meteors that surround you,”

Tom’s eyes are locked on yours. He can’t look away anymore, he needs to finish this now. You saw this, the hunger building and it only antagonized your affection for him. It would be a lie to say you haven’t had feelings since your first day of interning. How could you not? Tom was the youngest Attending at the hospital, charming and sweet. He took you under his wing without taking advantage of you. What was happening now though, this was a blossoming attraction that had been building for years.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Since the beginning, it had been you and him. It made sense for the two of you to be the ultimate team. When you’ve scrubbed in for his surgeries there was never a doubt in his mind that you would fail. That was what sparked his interest long ago, your determination during a Whipple procedure. You were skillful and delicate, making sure that this patient would never have to worry again. Tom stood back, watched you with ease. That was not common, especially with a first-year intern. Most interns couldn’t tell the difference aphagia and aphakia. You though, you were the sun. You shined bright and gave life to every patient you touched.

“I would, especially after today’s surgery,” Tom was now almost pressed against your body and breathing offbeat. “Watching you hands…so agile and…and…”

What happened next was a flash, but you would be lying if you didn’t expect it. Tom melted his lips into yours in a flurry of passion. You grabbed his face and pulled at his luscious curls, needing him to be as close as possible. It was sloppy, but what can expect from years of build up? Not everything was roses and champagne. Right now it was the aroma of sanitizing soap and scrubs. Tom hoisted you up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist and then pressed you against the wall of the on-call room. His lips traveled down your neck, leaving wet kisses over the sensitive area. Fuck it’s been too long.

It was a mess of massaging and groping, his hands moving everywhere on your body while you held him as close as possible. Nothing had ever felt so right, his body grinding down on yours in a lustful, almost animalistic, rhythm. You could feel him tenting in his scrubs, the low groans leaving his lips and vibrating on yours. It was a scene of weakness, finally coming together after so much pinning in silence. If either of you knew how easy this would have been then this would have happened ages ago. It felt right. Your bodies made for one another.

“Is this…is this okay?” You whine while still holding a tight clump of his hair.

“More than okay,” He gasps against your skin. “I’ve been in love with you forever Y/N. I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to jeopardize our careers…but I can’t hold back anymore.”

There was a pause. He put all out there, no going back essentially. Tom waited to see if you would want to continue. If he needed to walk out and act like the never happened, he would. But he couldn’t deny those pestering feelings anymore. Tom could not act like you were not the most amazing thing in his life. You meet his gaze and kissed him again but sweeter. Much more innocent to the previous actions. It wasn’t so timid like a first kiss you have in middle school, but it was soft. It was the kind of kiss you give to the person you cherish more than anything in this world. Like a goodbye kiss, but only this one spoke a thousand words for Tom.

“I love you,” You whispered. “Tom, I need you…”

With a swift roll of your hips you ground yourself against his groin. Tom threw her head back slightly, murmuring a low groan against your lips. That was all he needed. Tom dropped you to your feet and scrambled to lock the door. You started throwing your scrubs off, pulling your hair out of the tight pony and letting the hair fall seductively on your shoulders. Tom turns to you and just stops dead in his tracks. He memorized the moment so he could have it forever. The way you looked in a mismatched bra and panty set and how you were smiling at him. Tom had never seen you like this, so undone and vulnerable. You kept yourself professional, taking your hair done only after work and sometimes during lunch breaks. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

“What are you waiting for huh?” You tease.

Tom picked you up again and laid you on the bed. He continued to kiss down your throat and sucked on the ample skin of your breasts. Your hands went to massage him through the scrubs, his cock desperate for your attention, which prompted his low grunts. He couldn’t stop being vocal, this has been his dream for years. Tom wanted you to know that it was only you who could make him feel so good. You felt victorious, getting a man so desirable like Tom to melt into your hands.

It was more than the sex though, it was the need for him to get closer to you. Tom could have stopped at just the kiss, but you were devouring him in every way. Your eyes spoke sex and your hands were needy. Tom couldn’t resist you, urging the only fabrics in the way to be removed. You slipped the rest of his clothes off and tried to hold in a gasp. You had always wondered what Tom’s body looked like under the loose-fitting scrubs, but you did not expect him to be completely built. Tom’s toned abs felt like magic on your fingertips. Tom was confident though, smugly laughing as you admired his body.

“Get in me now,” You whined.

Tom chokes a laugh out while your lips go to raid his perfect skin. He treasures the moment, dragging his fingers down to your clit and moving slow circles on them. He knew the body, he studied it for years, yet touching you for the first time was otherworldly. The way you thrusted forward towards him boosted his ego even more, his fingers continuing the pace and feeling the wetness pool around him. Your hand went jerk Tom, his member twitching as your thumb spreads precum down the tip. Thank god the room was sound proof because the desperate whines of presex were uncontrollable. Tom slipped your black thong down to your ankles, you kicked them off and eased yourself back under his control. It was no longer a power struggle, the two of you were working through the motions and loving every second of it.

“Ready?” Tom shifted himself so he was leveled with your opening.

He didn’t need the verbal confirmation, the passionate kiss you gave him was enough. Tom eased himself into you and the overwhelming euphoria engulfed your body. Tom lifted himself on his forearms to get better leverage to pump in and out. You were in a fit of giggles with the pure happiness bubbling deep inside. Tom only stopped grinning once he bottomed out and the sloppy flat smile appeared on his face. His eyes rolled back as you bucked toward him. He had never felt something so intense in his life. The way you knew how to use him, move around him to get that knot in his stomach to tighten. Tom followed your rhythm, slowly pumping in and out of you so he could savor the feeling. Your nails clawed into Tom’s back to steady yourself with the movements and you met Tom’s gaze through dazed eyes.

“You…are so…beautiful,” His words came out in short huffs of air.

Tom couldn’t look away. He loved the closeness that he felt when staring back at you. It was only you and him. It didn’t matter if there was a hospital full of people, or a whole world full of people, it was just the two of you against it all.

“I love you,” You whisper like it was the first time you had said it. “I do…fuck I love you…”

Your head fell back at the knot loosening in your stomach. You didn’t want it to end, but something about this was shaking you to your core. It may be the way he thrusted so deep inside of you, turning you into a mess of whiny moans. Or it could be the way his fingers danced along your clit, easing you to your quick release. He knew your body too well, even if it was the first time. It was instinctual. Tom met your lips again while quickening his thrusts. His sloppy movements and muffled curses intensified the incoming orgasm. You buckled down as the knot snapped inside of you. Tom pressed down on you as you shook with pleasure.

“Fuck…Y/N…” Tom’s eyes rolled back and you felt his warmth fill you.

His body slumped down on top of you. The heat of his body flushed against you made the realization of what really happened hit you even harder. Your fingers trickled through his hair, pulling at the loose curls that were wet with sweat. Tom peppered sweet kisses to your forehead, humming against the skin while his fingers trace your arms.

“We…we really did that…” Your breath is rippled due to his weight on your chest.

“Yeah,” Tom looks down at you. “Are you having second thoughts?”

Tom was trying to not gulp so loudly at the sudden fear coursed through his body. You nuzzled into his chest, shaking your head and kissing his toned fiery body.

“Never. I mean it when I say I love you,” You hold his face to make sure he looks straight into your eyes. “I just don’t want this to jeopardize anything we have. Our careers and friendships, you know?”

There wasn’t a ��No dating’ policy at the hospital, but when people did date it got complicated. You were not one for drama, neither was Tom, so to add this aspect into your lives was another feat. It also didn’t help that gossip traveled quicker than sickness in Grey Sloan Memorial. Tom kisses your temple and nods.

“I totally agree love. We should keep this to ourselves for a bit until we figure everything out.”

You kept your feelings a secret for years so a few months of dating in secrecy wouldn’t be a big deal. Tom longingly looked at you, the same look he gave you that morning when asking you to scrub in. That was the face, he wanted to say those words and longed to finally hold you in his arms. You kiss him again, but you couldn’t imagine not kissing him anymore. So many years you spent wondering what his lips tasted like and now they were yours to take. It was pure, even if you both naked and glowing with post-sex, but it was innocent and full of those gooey emotions. Although you were adults, medically trained adults at that, it was so easy to fall for the feelings that only appear in romance novels. But it was love.

“Hey, are-”

You and Tom shot up with wide eyes looking at the open door. Tom locked it, he was sure he locked the fucking door but there was Harrison, peeking his head in with a bewildered expression. You didn’t know what to say or do, Tom tried to get up but he was covering your naked body and you held him against your chest. He grabbed the blanket that was tucked underneath your legs and covered the both of you to save some modesty.

“Harrison, I swear to god, if you say anything-”

“Mouths shut!” Harrison exclaims and shuts the door behind him, entering the room. “I’ve been waiting years for this. My two best friends together! A dream come true!”

Harrison paced around the room excitedly, seemingly ignoring the fact that the two of you were naked and in a compromising position. Tom grabbed his scrub bottoms from the floor and shimmied them on from underneath the thin blanket. Harrison was too consumed by his ramblings, going on and on about how he knew there was something happening, that he didn’t notice Tom shoving him towards the door.

You couldn’t help but stare, although you found it amusing you were still in shock. Harrison oblivious to it all, and you wondered how long he’s suspected something. And how long he’s known the two of you liked each other and didn’t say anything.

“Haz, I love you mate but you gotta read the room,” Tom patted him on the back and opened the on-call door slightly.

“Yeah, yeah man. This will be our little secret.”

Harrison winks and struts down the hallway, giddy as could be. You finally took a breath for the first time since Harrison caught the two of you. There was an awkward tension in the air as you grabbed your clothes to put back on. The day had to go on, there were interns to instruct and patients to save. But you would be lying if you didn’t want to spend the whole day in bed with Tom. It would be a dirty lie to say you wouldn’t be craving him and wanting him again later tonight. Tom threw on his shirt and made his way to the bed to kiss your head again. He was one for simple gestures, you noticed. He loved to simply touch you, know that you’re in arms reach for confirmation.

“So much for our plan huh,” Tom murmurs.

“It’s alright. We still have each other,”

You stood up, grabbing his hand and bringing him to the door. It would look suspicious if you left together but you wanted to enjoy the last few moments of bliss before you’re whisked away by some foolish intern or another Resident wanting to compare notes. There could be a whole tragedy going on outside those walls and you wouldn’t know it. But for once, your mind wasn’t on that. It was how Tom was smiling at you, slightly crooked teeth but they were sparkling the same. His cheeky smile didn’t make you feel like a schoolgirl anymore, but it did fill you with glee to know you were causing that smile.

“I’ll see you around,” You kiss him quickly and open the door.

“Where you going so fast?” Tom hid against the sidewall while you looked for any watchers.

You step out, only looking into the room to say your final goodbye to your lover, boyfriend, what have you now. That was a conversation for another time.

“A sexy man once told me, ‘it’s a beautiful day to save lives’,” You winked at him and strutted down the hallway.

Tom watched you, wholeheartedly smitten with everything about you. It wasn’t your looks, but your brains, wits, everything that made you, you. Surgeon life could be sorrowing, having to break the news of death and pain, but somehow you were the sun in all of that. The hospital walls seemed lest dreary, the cafeteria tasted less bland, and Tom felt a resurgence of vigor towards the craft. It was stupid, undeniable, love. And he was absolutely okay with that.

////

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tagging cuz idk: @spiderboytotherescue @laureharrier @starksparker @stuckonspidey @hollandroos @peterplanet @peterporkerpete @naturallytom @captainbuckyy @marvelouspeterparker @madmadmilk @blissfulparker @mcuspidey

#Tom Holland smut #Tom Holland imagines #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland fluff #Tom Holland blurbs #Tom Holland fanfic #Tom Holland angst #Doctor!tom holland #surgeon!tom holland #Attending!Tom Holland #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Tom Holland x you #Peter Parker smut #Peter Parker imagines #Peter Parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #Peter Parker blurbs

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elinakazan · 4 years ago

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( ANNIE MURPHY + CIS FEMALE ) — Have you seen ELINA KAZAN? This THIRTY-FOUR year old is an ART CURATOR who resides in BROOKLYN. SHE has been living in NYC for FOUR MONTHS, and is known to be CREATIVE and CAREFREE, but can also be QUIXOTIC and DRAMATIC, if you cross them. People tend to associate them with HIGHLIGHTED PASSAGES IN A BOOK and PAINT-SPLATTERED CLOTHES | @codstarters

hiya! my name’s ella. i’m SO excited to be here and bring elina to this amazing roleplay. i can’t wait to interact with all of you! so please hmu if you’d like to plot!

. basic information

NAME: elina thisbe kazan

NICKNAME: el, ellie, lina

GENDER: cis female

PLACE OF BIRTH: victoria, british columbia, canada

HOMETOWN: birmingham, england

DATE OF BIRTH: april 26, 1986

AGE: thirty-four

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual

OCCUPATION: art curator at the moma

BOROUGH: brooklyn

. background

tw: cheating

Not much is known about Elina's biological parents. Her story is no much different than those of many children in the foster system: parents who were too young to raise a kid. She was born in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. Although she still retains her Canadian citizenship, she does not remember much of her birthplace.

She was six months old when she was adopted by the Kazans. Both of them had immigrated to Canada ten years earlier. Her father, Estevan Kazan was a Greek citizen who moved to Canada to work on his Master's degree and her mother, Katina Trusova moved from Russia seeking a better life. By the time she was adopted, her parents had been married for five years and after several failed attempts to conceive, they decided to adopt. She does speak Greek and Russian fluently.

The Kazans lived in Vancouver for three years before Estevan was offered a job in Birmingham. The whole family relocated to England and a year later her parents adopted a baby boy and two years later a baby girl completed the family.

A happy and reckless child, Elina gave her parents several headaches. She had enough energy to light a city and no matter the number of extracurricular activities her parents enrolled her in, she simply couldn't stay still. Regardless of her endless vitality, Elina often gave nothing but satisfactions to her parents. The kind and bubbly girl turned over the years in a clever, outgoing and creative woman.

Elina never really had a plan, most of the time she just went along with the flow. One day she wanted to be an Olympic athlete and the next day she wanted to be a doctor. Her life aspirations were ever-changing. However, the only constant in her life was her love and passion for art, any kind of art. A dreamer per nature, Elina found solace in paintings, songs, films and books. They allowed her to travel to a different world and in the tough moments, art has always been there for her.

Loyal to her capricious nature, Elina tied the knot when she was just 18 years old. Harry Vandenberg was not a random choice. In fact, aside from art, he'd been the other constant in her life. Best friends since she moved to England, Elina swears that she knew she was going to marry him even at the tender age of three. It took years to go from strangers to friends to boyfriend and girlfriend and finally to husband and wife.

Elina started university shortly after the wedding. She decided to take a double program and she graduated with a Bachelor in History of Art and Classics from Oxford. While her academic life kept her busy, she often felt alone. Being in the army, Harry was often away. At first, she didn't mind the loneliness, but soon it started to take a toll on their relationship.

Throughout most of her life, Elina aimed to have a marriage like the one her parents had. In her eyes, they were the perfect couple until she found out it all had been a lie. Her parents divorce came out of nowhere but soon enough her mother explained everything. Her father had been cheating on her for the past fifteen years. Elina's whole world crumbled down upon hearing that and just like that her trust in those close to her was gone.

No one could be trusted. That was all she had taken from her parents' divorce and unfortunately she brought it into her marriage. Elina started to question Harry's faithfulness. Nothing he did or say could change her mind that her husband was not cheating. Without evidence she continued to accuse him and despite his best efforts to prove his innocence, their marriage came to and end. All those false allegations became a reality. She had pushed him away and turned him into a cheater.

Her heartache was enhanced when she saw Harry's face all over the news after his relationship with the princess came out. When it came to settle the divorce, Elina decided she didn't want anything, she just signed it and moved to Italy where she lived until four months ago.

Six months ago, she was offered her dream job: museum curator at the MOMA. She hesitated to take it since she knew Harry lived there and the last thing she wanted was to make everyone think that she was moving there for him but in the end, she couldn't deter her own dreams because of him. So, she took the job and relocated to New York four months ago. She got a nice place in Brooklyn and she hopes that the city is big enough to avoid running into her ex-husband.

. personality

Elina worships her freedom. She loves travel, adventure, meeting new people, and she longs to experience all of life. If she hates something in life that is routine. She doesn't want to lead a humdrum life and she is often doing a bunch of things as she is not tied down to one task. Her upbeat personality helps her to make friends easily and she often attracts people from all walks of life. She has a way with words and an uncanny ability to motivate others, she also loves to make people laugh and tends to be very sarcastic almost cynical. Honesty and loyalty are sacred to her and that can make her feel wary. She doesn't trust easily and chooses very careful who to trust. Elina is also an idealistic and a daydreamer. She is always in her own little world and she tends to get distracted easily.

. potential connections

siblings: she has two siblings, a brother (30) and a sister (28). they are also adopted (so the fc could be anyone). i imagine they have a good relationship, although maybe she could have had a fallout with one of them because they decided to take their father’s side in the divorce.

close friends: could be friends she made in england, italy or here in new york. she has plenty friends but this group is special because she trusts them which is a hard thing for her to do.

partner in crime: so elina is very spontaneous, they kind of person who rarely says no to adventure. unfortunately, not many people are like that but this person is just like her and they always say yes to all her plans.

art lovers: they run into each other at art galleries, exhibitions, open mics, museums, screenings, concerts, anything that involves art. so obviously they have the same interests, so they are each other art buddy.

university classmates/friends: she attended oxford for four years, then the royal academy of art and right now she’s doing a master’s at nyu.

before sunset plot: okay so she traveled a lot after her divorce, so i’d love a plot like the one in the movie, ya know, they met on a train and talked for hours, they walked around the cities and talked some more. there was a connection but then their ways had to be split.

unlikely friends: despite their differences they are friends. elina is very outgoing, reckless and impulsive while your character is the opposite of that.

fwb: since her divorce, elina hasn’t been in a serious relationship, however, this is the closest she has to one. they just fall in tune with the other. it’s easy, no strings attached. (m/f)

ex-flings: she probably has hooked up with a few people, it’s casual. (m/f)

tinder date: yeah she fell into the online dating world and let’s say it did NOT go well. it was akward but in a fun way. everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. it’s a fond memory but obviously there wasn’t a second date.

neighbours: people who live either in brooklyn or in her apartment complex.

OOOF ! okay, that’s all i have for now. i didn’t proofread this so excuse the lazy english but it’s 3 am here so my brain is dead. anyway, enough rambling. i’d loooove to plot with y’all so please like this or come and hit me up with plots. tumblr messages or discord, i’m game for anything!!! :D

#codintro #what a novel!#but plot with us pls #tw cheating

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Where in Fiction Would You Spend Christmas?

https://ift.tt/34FuLCB

It’s been a staying-in kind of year. That New Year’s Resolution you made to travel more? It’s gained 20 pounds, started cutting its own hair and is now in a jigsaw club with your neighbour Ken. The only marathon you’ve completed in 2020 is a Battlestar Galactica rewatch. The only mountain you’ve climbed is the metaphorical one it takes to shower daily. That beach trip you’d planned? It went okay actually. You made some bells by selling coconuts to Nook’s Cranny and dug up a bunch of Manila Clams with a flimsy shovel.

For obvious reasons, escape is on our minds this year more than most. So we started thinking, if you had your wishing socks on, where in the collected imaginations of everyone who’s ever dreamt up a film, TV show, game or book, would you spend the holidays? On the holodeck of the Starship Enterprise or roasting on an open fire with The Simpsons, exchanging gifts with Ewoks or witnessing Scrooge McDuck’s transformation from miser to philanthropist first hand?

To get things started, here’s what our writers picked…

Alec Bojalad would spend Christmas … reveling with the Sterling Cooper staff on Mad Men

If I’m to indulge this hypothetical in which I’m torn away from one reality and thrust into another, one thing is very clear: I will have to be extremely intoxicated to avoid my heart exploding from the stressful terror of it all. Thankfully, I know exactly where in pop culture to go to get absolutely blitzed: Mad Men. In terms of sheer debauchery, a Sterling Cooper Christmas party probably falls somewhere between a Bacchanalian orgy and Valhalla itself. As Don, Roger, Bert, Peggy, and company gather together to celebrate another successful year schmoozing clients and sexually harassing one another, I will don my finest 1960s attire and infiltrate the festive event.

As Don Draper wonders who this soft-bodied weirdo in an ill-fitting suit is, I’ll catch up with Harry Crane about television. Then I’ll ask to see Bert Cooper’s weird tentacle porn painting. Sometime around my 9th J&B Whisky on the rocks I’ll visit the secretarial pool and beg them to demand better treatment because “you’ree ssssooo strong and eleganttt. Don’t listen to thessseee men. They’re Mad Men.” Hopefully I’ll be taken away to an old-timey hospital at that point, given electroshock treatment, and return back to my own continuity.

Ryan Britt would spend Christmas… at Deanna and Will’s cabin from Star Trek: Picard

When Jean-Luc Picard uses the spatial projector to zap himself and Soji across the galaxy to the planet Nepethene, the result is a cozy pizza dinner with Will Riker, Deanna Troi and their daughter Kestra. For those who had been pining for more ‘90s nostalgia in this Trek series, the episode ‘Nepthene’ delivered, but with a strong shot of realism. Although Picard was written and created before the Covid-19 pandemic, the idea that Riker and Troi would leave the busy and crowded life of Starfleet, and retire in a remote cabin to protect their family is a choice many have actually faced in 2020. As people around the world have fled pandemic epicenters and tried to put shields around their own families, the peaceful and remote home of the Riker-Trois represents the optimistic ideal of Star Trek with a quiet, and very close-to-home twist.

Spending time with the Riker-Troi family would mean great conversation, great music (oh the jazz!) and, above all, great food. I would happily put my own family in their ‘pod’ if only so Kestra could teach my three-year-old daughter the best way to construct a bow and arrow, and of course, how to learn that secret language of butterflies.

Then, after the kids were in bed, having a glass of wine or some Romulan whiskey with Will out on the porch sounds pretty damn perfect. 2020 has been tough. A bear hug from Riker seems like the perfect Christmas gift of all.

Caroline Preece would spend Christmas… at The Muppet Christmas Carol’s Penguin Skating Party

Ever since young-me set eyes on the ultra-festive world of The Muppet Christmas Carol I’ve wanted to visit. I can’t imagine a better way to spend Christmas Eve than in the cuddly version of Dickens’ cautionary tale, helping Kermit and his co-workers tidy up Scrooge’s office for the holidays, dancing down the snowy London streets and attending the Penguins’ annual Christmas skating party as the ultimate topper to a perfect evening.

As well as being super-merry and joyous (‘tis the season), judging by Kermit’s performance on the ice, they let anyone take part.

It could just be the general lack of socialising and festive frivolity in 2020, but Bob Cratchit’s hopeful walk home from the office (remember the office?!?) on the night before Christmas has always epitomised the idea that the anticipation of Christmas Day is the best part. Add to that a trip to the market to pick up some singing vegetables, or the cosy Cratchit dinner with Miss Piggy and their gaggle of pig and frog offspring, and it’s a version of old-timey festive cheer that will always hold a place in my heart.

Louisa Mellor would spend Christmas… with the strippers in Hustlers

This choice won’t reflect well on me. It’s neither edifying nor improving and has a core of savage capitalist consumerism, which is probably what makes it so Christmassy. Midway through Lorraine Scafaria’s Hustlers – a film about a group of strippers who right the wrongs of the 2008 financial crisis by drugging Wall Street guys to run up their company credit cards – there’s a scene that’d make anyone’s heart grow three sizes.

A dozen lap dancers gather for Christmas in a high-end apartment, their daughters and a grandmother in tow. Dressed in luxe loungewear and chunky gold, their skin glowing like a sucked butterscotch, they swap gifts, smile and sing and dance and thank the lord for their sisters. Expensive elegance is everywhere. Someone gets a fur coat, somebody else a pair of animal-print Louboutins. The woman who dips the dancers’ tits in bowls of ice before they go on stage is given an iPhone 4. Mostly though, they give each other affirmation. Without a natural hair colour, nude fingernail or a man in sight, it’s a dream family Christmas. Picture a Norman Rockwell painting with Jennifer Lopez in gold lamé, a cashmere Santa hat and a balcony bra. Feel-good festive perfection.

Michael Ahr would spend Christmas… secluded in Hogwarts

Some may have found Harry Potter’s winter holidays without his friends rather lonely, but I can think of nothing more magical than having the vast empty halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry all to myself. Why let the staff have the warm, dry, magical snow that fell annually in the Great Hall all to themselves? Not being of school age myself anymore, I might choose to share a butterbeer (or perhaps a hot buttered rum) with Dumbledore and Hagrid by a roaring fire.

I might even be tempted to make the trip to Hogsmeade to see all the shops decked out with lights and blanketed in snow. I’d still be able to enjoy the comparative solitude without all the kids running around, but I’m almost certain there would be a group of carolers wandering about the square, never mind the singing enchanted suits of armor back at the school. And of course, if I could pick a particular present, I’d choose to receive the same amazing gift Harry received that first Christmas from Dumbledore: his father’s Invisibility Cloak. I’d likewise pass it along as a family heirloom to my own children on some Christmas morning to come.

Jamie Andrew would spend Christmas… in a Deep Space Nine Holosuite

At first, I entertained the idea of spending Christmas in Baltimore with the denizens of The Wire, mainly because I liked the idea of children running up and down the streets hollering, ‘Omar’s coming!’ moments before the shotgun-wielding Robin Hood of the Hood came swaggering down the street wearing a big red coat and a white beard, tossing out bank notes and whistling ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’. Then I realised that the chances of me ending up a corpse inside a boarded-up derelict building before the turkey was even cooked were surprisingly high, so I thought I’d try Christmas with Frasier Crane and family instead. Unfortunately, my foreknowledge of Martin’s and Eddie’s deaths would cloud the occasion, and I’d probably spend all night slumped crying in Martin’s recliner, unable to tell anyone why I was so upset without violating the temporal time directive.

Best, then, to spend Yule time on Deep Space Nine. Christianity and its associated festive traditions don’t appear to exist in the 24th Century, so after saying hello to Sisko and co., and maybe playing a bit of Dabo at Quark’s, I’d probably spend the rest of my time in a faithful Holosuite reproduction of a 1990s Irish bar on New Year’s Eve getting absolutely wasted with fellow Celt Chief O’Brien. Now THAT’S what I call Christmas.

Juliette Harrisson would spend Christmas… in Narnia

Not, of course, the White Witch’s eternal winter, when it’s always winter but never Christmas, but a regular Christmas in Narnia. It would, of course, be a white Christmas because otherwise, how would Father Christmas come and deliver presents to everyone? So I could spend the season in a snowy woodland surrounded by magical creatures, and be in with a chance of a really good present. Or possibly a sewing machine.

Movies

Why Chronicles of Narnia’s Santa Claus Celebrates Christmas with Weapons of War

By Juliette Harrisson

Movies

The Rod Serling Christmas Movie You Never Saw

By Chris Farnell

On the first moonlit night when there’s snow on the ground, Narnian fauns, dryads, and dwarfs perform the Great Snow Dance, with the fauns and dryads dancing around while the dwarfs throw snowballs that don’t hit them (an often forgotten detail from the book version of The Silver Chair!). I would join in, although possibly not throw any snowballs as my aim isn’t that good. Then I’d go back to Mr Tumnus’s for sardines and cake on Christmas Eve and talk to him about his somewhat dubious taste in books (just what is Nymphs And Their Ways about, eh Tumnus?). I’d spend Christmas Day up at the castle of Cair Paravel, eating and drinking like a Queen, and then I’d go visit Mr and Mrs Beaver on Boxing Day for a feast of leftovers and maybe a little light ice fishing.

John Saavedra would spend Christmas…celebrating Life Day with Star Wars’ Poe Dameron

No one has ever cared so much about Life Day, the Star Wars galaxy’s own version of Christmas, as much as ace pilot Poe Dameron does in the Lego Star Wars Holiday Special. From decorating the Millennium Falcon and choosing the right Life Day sweater to roasting the traditional tip-yip (also known as Endorian chicken), Poe shows there’s something much stronger than the Force in the Star Wars universe: holiday spirit. Who knew the Resistance hero best known for his knack at blowing stuff up had such a soft spot?

Hanging with Poe on Life Day would mean chestnuts roasting on an open exhaust engine, drinking whatever passes for cocoa in the Star Wars galaxy, hanging out with Wookiees on their homeworld of Kashyyyk, singing festive carols in Huttese, and finding just the right Life Day tree for the Falcon. It’d also mean dancing to the hip tunes of Max Rebo’s drum (the rest of his band is unfortunately no longer with us) and partying with Lando Calrissian, Finn, Rose, Rey, Jannah, Mon Calamari, Jawas, Rodians, Ewoks, and maybe even Chewie’s son Lumpy. If you’re not sold by now, your taste in holiday parties might be bantha poodoo.

Elizabeth Donoghue would spend Christmas…. at The Office’s Classy Christmas

Dunder Mifflin has many memorable Christmas parties, but Steve Carell’s final festive special includes some of my favourite things about The Office; weird Gabe, Michael’s enduring hatred of Toby, and Michael and Holly’s adorable relationship.

After Toby announces he is taking a leave of absence for jury duty (‘Thank you, Scranton Strangler. I love you. You just took one more person’s breath away’) Michael learns that Holly will be returning to Scranton and demands that Pam’s regular Christmas party must get classy. What makes a Christmas classy? A backwards Kangol-esque Santa hat, a red velvet smoking jacket and a quarter of a jazz quartet of course.

I would actively enjoy watching Dwight take down Jim in their snowball fight (total bully, needs to be taken down a peg or two), get drunk with Kelly and Meredith, dance with Phyllis and Erin and learn more about the enigma that is Creed. And although it is slightly more subdued than their Benihana and Moroccan Christmas parties, I’m sure we could keep the party going at a Poor Richard’s after-party.

Kayti Burt would spend Christmas … on Themyscira

The Amazons’ decision to opt out of the “Patriarch’s World” has always been a relatable one, but never so much as in The Year 2020. Historically, I’m not really a beach person, but Themyscira, aka Paradise Island, has a lot going for it: warm weather, a supportive community, and live sporting events where you don’t have to worry about some drunken dudebro spilling cheap beer on your toga.

As far as I can tell from the Wonder Woman movies, no one (besides Young Diana, who’s usually working through some stuff) ever seems to be having a bad time on Themyscira. And why would you? The pre-Crisis comics incarnation of the island (which I am going to choose to accept as my holiday canon) includes indigeneous kangaroo-like creatures called Kangas that the Amazons ride like horses. Diana’s is called Jumpa; mine will be called Jimmy Hoppa, and we will explore the island’s cascading waterfalls and cliffside terraces together. In the evenings, I will attend performances at the Themysciran amphitheater with my new Amazonian friends or, if I’m feeling introverted, catch up on my book reading and crossword puzzles.

Listen, I wouldn’t want to spend forever on Themyscira—I’d miss my friends, family, and TV shows (Themyscira doesn’t seem to get a good wireless signal)—but a few weeks (or months, especially as I will be quarantining for my first two weeks) for Christmas 2020? Bring me to the enchanted feminist utopia.

Alana Joli Abbott would spend Yule… at the coven house from the Nightcraft Quartet

Witchkind, as presented in Shannon Page’s Nightcraft Quartet, don’t celebrate Christmas, but they do love a good Yuletide celebration. Page’s witches and warlocks are separate from humans, long lived, and magical. Young witches train in the magical arts at a coven house, living there like a dorm; the adult women of the coven (always numbering thirteen) may be involved in scientific research (like protagonist Callie), medicine and healing, or reading Tarot, and they teach their specialties to the young witches. The coven house is a central place where women gather to live, to practice magic together, to celebrate, and to honor traditional rituals. While Callie’s coven in San Francisco has their problems, the community there is caring and genuine, full of both youthful energy and centuries of experienced witchery.

One of the perks of editing this series is that I get sneak peeks into parts of the story readers haven’t seen yet—including Yule decorations. Rather than cutting down dead trees, witches coax living fir boughs to weave along the walls and mantles, accented with red ribbon and gold—coins, beads, chains. I can imagine the cozy San Francisco coven house filled with witches all rushing to perform their tasks to make the perfect celebration, some of them convincing the fir boughs to expand in just the right ways while others brew hot chocolate or prepare the feast. I picture them eating in the large hall, voices lifted in joyful chatter, and then making their way out to the grounds beyond the house to celebrate beneath the stars, singing midwinter songs and looking forward to the next year. After months of 2020 with smaller communities and less human contact, being surrounded by such a vibrant, magical group of women sounds like just the right way to end my year.

Rosie Fletcher would spend Christmas… with the Roy family from Succession

Go hard or go home, they say, so since I can’t go home this year, I’m going round the Roys. That is, of course, the family at the centre of Succession, a show peopled by the very wealthiest and utterly worst. Festivities would be held at the home of patriarch Logan Roy. His children and their partners would be obliged to attend. Logan would hire a chef to cook, waiting staff to serve, some of whom he would abuse. I would give them sympathetic “I’m sorry” looks but do nothing, secretly thankful Logan’s ire wasn’t focused on me.

In all likelihood I would be a figure like Greg (the egg), or Tom Wambsgans – mostly tolerated, vaguely despised and very much the second class citizens of the Roy clan, skulking on the periphery as Kendall, Roman and Shiv compete for Logan’s love and oldest son Connor comes up will another entirely ridiculous life plan – I dunno, maybe this year he’s decided that his next career move is to become Santa Claus.

The food would be extraordinary. The booze the very finest – how long before, like Greg, I would be claiming the bottle of vintage rose champagne I had just motored through was ‘not my favourite’? And the dinner table conversation would be electric. Electric like an electric shock – sharp, painful, disorientating, unexpected.

So Christmas has become too commercialised? Fine, fuck it. I’ll take the eye-wateringly expensive gift that’s grudgingly bestowed on me, I will gorge on the finest cheeses known to man and coat my tongue with port made from molten rubies, knowing I am on my way to moral bankruptcy and doing it anyway. Go hard or go home…

Kirsten Howard would spend Christmas… singing along in the closing moments of Scrooged

You’d be hard-pressed to find a Christmas movie that feels as genuinely uplifting during its climax as 1988’s Scrooged. Bill Murray’s arrogant TV boss Frank Cross, having been visited by the Ghosts of Christmases Past, Present and Future, disrupts a live broadcast of A Christmas Carol to rant openly and honestly at the cast and crew (and eventually you) as he makes a passionate case for a life less invested in exploitation and capitalism, and eventually kicks off a collective singalong of Annie Lennox and Al Green’s version of ‘Put a Little Love in Your Heart’.

That’s where I’d like to be this Christmas. Not just to sing along with Bill, but to be around people immediately swept along by the much-less-explored altruistic route of ‘no fucks given’.

Also hanging out with Bill Murray, though, of course.

So much of the last few years has been a public race to the bottom of Nothing Matters Mountain, but even if it hadn’t all been so demoralising and forced so many of us to reevaluate our priorities, Frank’s message of redemption in love and living as well as we can, while shrugging off our own heavy expectations of success, still feels really special.

This Christmas, there is light at the end of the tunnel. We may not be able to grab the nearest stranger and sing “put a little love in your heart!” at them right now, but we CAN carry that feeling with us into 2021. As Frank says: “There are people who are having trouble making their miracle happen”. We can always try and find time to stop focusing on our own for a while and to help them.

David Crow would spend Christmas… chilling with Harold and Kumar

Not many people are aware of this, but A Very Harold and Kumar Christmas is the best Harold and Kumar. It may not have the pop culture cache of their medicinal-fueled quest for mini-cheeseburgers, but it does have something very special, indeed: Wafflebot. If you’ve had the misfortune of living your life oblivious to Wafflebot’s existence, allow me to introduce you to a greater world of wonder and magic.

Wafflebot is the best Christmas present to ever come out of Santa’s Workshop. Displaying an eerily sophisticated artificial intelligence for a toy meant only to cook delicious breakfasts, Wafflebot can make you waffles any time by just popping the top and letting that batter drop. But he can also do so much more! Vaguely aware of the concept of friendship, this brunching Frankenstein can learn how to love and appreciate his owners… and defend them from any threat with scalding hot projectile syrup!

With the ability to serve breakfast, save your life, be manipulated into dangerous attack mode, and learn how to see the real you, all while playing a mean drum solo, Wafflebot would make any Christmas a sweetly warm experience. And then Harold and Kumar, and I could also steal a Christmas tree from NPH or something.

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The post Where in Fiction Would You Spend Christmas? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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nerianasims · 4 years ago

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Billboard #1s 1970

Under the cut.

B. J. Thomas – “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head” -- January 3, 1970

Everything's going wrong, but he's not gonna cry or complain, because he knows things will turn good before long. Meh. I dunno, it's a bouncy song, sung well, but I've never liked the whole smile your way through everything awful ethos, and I really fucking hate it right now. See: Pandemic, and Trump's response to it. And so a song I was fine with last year now infuriates me.

The Jackson 5 – “I Want You Back” -- January 31, 1970

I'm skipping every Jackson 5 song. Little kids singing love songs for money and fame is bad enough, and I never liked any of these songs for that reason. But add in the baggage of what Michael Jackson did later, and how much did that have to do with him being forced into this position when he was a little kid, and I'm done. Let a child psychologist handle this. I'm not equipped.

Shocking Blue – “Venus” -- February 7, 1970

It's supposed to be "The goddess on the mountaintop," as anyone who heard the later Bananarama cover a whole bunch knows. But Mariska Veres is Dutch, and she sings "godness on the mountaintop" instead. Also Venus was technically on a mountaintop I guess, but I associate her more with a giant clamshell in the sea. I'm nitpicking. The song's got a great groove and Veres' voice is perfect for it. It's good.

Sly & The Family Stone – “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)” -- February 14, 1970

I always thought this chorus was "Thank you for lettin' me be myself again." I'm not sure what the actual spelling is trying to communicate. I only just learned what the song is actually about: How the pop music industry sucks. I think. The only totally clear line is "Dyin' young is hard to take, sellin' out is harder." So maybe the spelling is a sarcastic jab at how no one is letting him be himself. But with the funk dancing beat, and the only lines that sound clear not actually being what they sound like, it's still not more than a really great party song.

Simon & Garfunkel – “Bridge Over Troubled Water” -- February 28, 1970

If I were a music critic, I'd get in trouble for this one. Bridge Over Troubled Water bores me to tears. It makes me feel like I'm stuck in glue. Aretha Franklin's rendition is significantly better, but I still don't like it. It's a nice sentiment and all, but I'll take the Four Tops for the same idea done far better, thanks.

The Beatles – “Let It Be” -- April 11, 1970

I hate toxic positivity. However, I very much like calming down and detaching from things you cannot control. The latter is what this song is about. It's about "Mother Mary," which obviously sounds like Jesus' mom, but it's actually about Paul's mom, who died when Paul was 14. When he was going through a tough time as an adult, he had a dream that she came to him and told him "let it be." John Lennon, being a dick as he so often was, didn't like the song, and called in Phil Spector to put massive layers of production in it. Later, Paul released "Let It Be... Naked," which was his original vision for the song. It's far better.

The Jackson 5 – “ABC” -- April 25, 1970

Pass.

The Guess Who – “American Woman” -- May 9, 1970

This song pisses me off. Obviously it's an entire song insulting American women, and as an American woman, I am not pleased, not that The Guess Who would care. And of course it's metaphorical, but why the fuck are American women the ones getting blamed for war machines? Because women are blamed for everything, that's why. Oh and also the song is incredibly repetitive, so even if it were a song about how great American women are, I would not like it.

Ray Stevens – “Everything Is Beautiful” -- May 30, 1970

There's a mob of small children, hide! That is my reaction to the beginning of this song. Past that -- okay, yes, everyone is beautiful in their own way. This song isn't though. It's the gloopiest of Christian "rock" before that was even a thing. It makes me shudder.

The Beatles – “The Long And Winding Road” -- June 13, 1970

Phil Spector splooges all over another Paul McCartney song. I never cared much for this song before I heard the "Naked" version, which gives me chills. How could anyone not open their door to this? But when it comes to the official single version, I'd tell him to take another trip around the block while I thought about it.

The Jackson 5 – “The Love You Save” -- June 27, 1970

Pass.

Three Dog Night – “Mama Told Me (Not To Come)” -- July 11, 1970

The lyrics are about how scary parties are. Which, um, yeah. Especially that cigarette part; I've always been drastically allergic to cigarettes, so that my parents had regular parties when I was a kid was really bad. I'm glad that people were going outside to smoke by the time I was in college. But the song. It's a party song in which the narrator hates parties. Pretty fun.

The Carpenters – “(They Long To Be) Close To You” -- July 25, 1970

Karen Carpenter's voice and singing ability were astounding. It's one of the great tragedies of music that she didn't get better songs. I do like this one, though. Yes, it's ridiculously sweet. But it has a beat and forward motion -- it's slow, but not turgid. The piano is nice. And, of course, there's Karen Carpenter's gorgeous voice, the most important thing about the song by far.

Bread – “Make It With You” -- August 22, 1970

Bread is wonderful. I love bread. But not the musical group Bread, which is like stale Wonder Bread rather than a delicious foodstuff. 70s easy listening managed to make sex sound boring. This song is one of the worst in that regard. If sex were like it seems to be in this song, I'd rather scrub grout.

Edwin Starr – “War” -- August 29, 1970

"War/ I despise/ It means destruction to innocent lives." Exactly. To say I love this song doesn't quite cover it. The song is the absolute truth, that's all.

Diana Ross – “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” -- September 19, 1970

The narrator's been dumped but whenever her ex needs her, she'll get to him any way she can. This version takes too long to get started, and then Ross speaks the verses instead of singing them. I don't like it at all. Give me Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell's version instead, which also sounds like the narrators have a much more equal relationship.

Neil Diamond – “Cracklin’ Rosie” -- October 10, 1970

The song sounds like it's about a sex worker. It's not. It's about cheap wine. Also it's Neil Diamond. It's not boring, and I don't hate it, but I can't say I like it either. It's just sort of there.

The Jackson 5 – “I’ll Be There” -- October 17, 1970

*shudder* Pass.

The Partridge Family – “I Think I Love You” -- November 21, 1970

It starts in a minor key, waking up and suddenly realizing "I think I love you." But the narrator isn't quite ready to accept it. It's about a first love, and about how confusing the feeling is. Also there's a harpsichord. At the end, the narrator is asking if you think you love him too. I like it.

Smokey Robinson And The Miracles – “The Tears Of A Clown” -- December 12, 1970

He's pretending to be happy in public, but he doesn't want the woman who left him to think he's anything but miserable after she left him for some reason he doesn't know. He name-checks Pagliacci. Great Motown song. (The B-side of the single was "I Second That Emotion," which I like even better.)

George Harrison – “My Sweet Lord" -- December 26, 1970

Oh, George. I actually like his solo career better than that of any of the other Beatles, but his first big smash is not good. First, the melody is plagiarized from The Chiffon's "He's So Fine." Not inspired by or similar to or any of the other bullshit musical artists are getting sued over these days. It's a straight-up rip. George said he did it accidentally, and that absolutely can happen, but in this case I'm doubtful. The Beatles covered a whole lot of girl group songs at the beginning of their run. George knew girl groups. Second, he slowed down the melody, and so it is too slow, especially if you already know "He's So Fine." Third, it's about wanting to "know" some non-denominational New Agey all religions are really one religion type "Lord." That's a philosophy that I find confused at best. Very bad.

BEST OF 1970: "War" WORST OF 1970: "My Sweet Lord"

#billboard number ones

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shepherds-of-haven · 5 years ago

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#patreonAsk Nothing’s scarier than the embarassing shit you did in the past coming back to haunt you!!! What’s each ro’s most embarassing memory?

Blade: when he was a kid, a girl asked to meet him after class alone. She meant to confess her crush to him, but due to confusing language cues, he mistook her request as a challenge for a fight (common among Ket children) and came decked out to make someone bleed aiyayyaai

Trouble: the time someone challenged him to a duel and he showed up still hungover from the night before. Instead of looking incredibly badass and tough like he usually does, he squared up to the guy and then threw up on him flgfdjgd

Tallys: she got a little tipsy at a festival and kissed someone who she thought was flirting with her, but who was very not interested fgdfg and it was in public, in front of everyone, on the dance floor!!

Shery: a neighborhood girl befriended her when she was a young child. Shery was super lonely and shy as a girl so she bent over backwards for this new friend, even giving her part of her allowance every week so the girl could buy lunches, being from a poor family. Overheard the girl laughing with a bunch of other girls about how easy Shery was to take advantage of and didn’t even work up the courage to confront her, just cried the next time the girl asked her for the money...

Riel: he tried to participate in an adult conversation between his father and a business associate when he was around twelve and called port a “sweet red wine” rather than “a dry red wine”! Excruciating!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chase: he has absolutely no sense of embarrassment, and the only thing I can think of that would cause him shame to remember is big spoilers lol

Red: he’ll never forget, leading up to his first kiss he was all sweaty and nervous, awkwardly went “...I’m wet” instead of “i’m sweaty” when the first kiss asked him what was wrong, and then sneezed in their face as they were leaning in to kiss him gfgjfg

Ayla: she badmouthed a few toughs in a gambling den, feeling cocky enough to take them all on, and then it turned out... they took her in a fight very easily... very embarrassing for her to come to terms with...

Lavinet: she bled for the first time, unexpectedly, during an important birthday gala (someone else’s) when she was thirteen. She had to get her lady-in-waiting to smuggle her out of the ball without anyone noticing her dress, but then her father stopped her in front of everyone and asked her where she was going! Luckily she tells herself no one actually noticed, but the memory still causes her embarrassment...

#Shepherds of Haven #romance options #embarrassing #embarrassing memory

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meduise · 4 years ago

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my own hibari headcanons

[reposting because of adult terminology crimes, lol]

been meaning to write down my list of hcs for a while anyway, and now i have the occasion to get to it! among the others im gonna add what i decided to avoid putting under this post and give more details about what i already wrote there

content/trigger warnings: death, assassination, mental illness, eating disorders

the list will be under the cut! it excludes my strictly shippy hcs and i may update it over time

first things first. like my own blog title suggests, i hc hibari as a trans guy. i’m trans myself, so this is arguably the hc of mine im the most attached to for personal comfort reasons LOL. it all started when i read a fic about trans hibari a few years ago and later on i got more and more fond of this transcanon, becoming 100% personal. i also hc that he doesnt feel dysphoric. as for his sexuality i hc him as gay

we know that hibari and fon are relatives. my idea is that they’re step-brothers (different mother), and long lost to that. NOW. i realize that with the assumption of fon’s age, them being siblings is unlikely, but it shouldn’t be impossible. their father could be old enough. he got married to a chinese woman who gave birth to fon, then divorced, then got married again to a japanese woman, kyouya’s mom. (i kinda based this on my irls situation, where because of the parents’ second marriage there is at least a good 20 years of gap between the oldest and youngest sibling)

the hibari family was part of the yakuza. to answer a question that was made to me: i agree that hibari “just liking fighting” isnt funny at all. i heavily believe that there’s a psychological reason to his behavior but im going to talk about this in another point below. i also think that hibari was probably the heir to the clan, but here in my head hibari is still too young for it, like 5-6 years old.

when hibari was a child his parents got killed in the hibari household. how could they get killed in their own house, didn’t they have enough protection? they did. but the guard was low considering who turned out to be their murderers were old, trusted allies. kyouya only survived because he managed to hide properly and long enough. he didnt witness the assassination but he did see his parents in a pool of blood after everything ended. before dying, his mom left a last message to him: be stronger than anyone else. because of the trauma, even in the present hibari avoids going back to that house as much as he can and especially he never reopens the door of the crime scene. hibari also still grows into a delinquent, but he dislikes the mafia world and wishes he didnt have to be involved with it

for a while, hibari is in fon’s mother’s custody. here is when he meets fon for the first time, over time they get very attached to one another, but because of the arcobaleno matters, fon goes disappearing, and hibari ends up assuming fon has died and left him behind just like this parents did. fon reappears and goes to meet hibari in occasion of the arcobaleno representative battles and of course wit trauma resurface and about 10 years of beliefs and assumptions hibari really, really struggles with this reunion, but eventually they bond again. (for this one i dont take into account the events in the anime only arcobaleno trial events, as well as the fact that we see all the arcobalenos revived at the end of the future arc)

hibari has an antisocial personality disorder (which implies he already had conduct disorders before the age of 15). it explains his violent and criminal behavior, as well as the fact that he doesn’t feel guilty for anything he does. he also suffers from ptsd and has eating disorders (i thought about the avoidant food intake, where, among the other symptoms, a person avoids to extreme levels some types of food because of characteristics such as their pattern or their color and generally lacks appetite/interest in food)

(wears my enneagram nerd hat) HIBARI IS A TYPE EIGHT. 8w7 precisely, aka the maverick. all about type eight is basically a call out to hibari lmfao but here’s the most relevant characteristics: eights are the real stand-alones of the enneagram. eights’ basic fear is to be harmed and controlled by others, and they steel up to prevent their basic fear from happening (or happening again). below the tough facade there is a vulnerability that cant be shown to anyone. their virtue is innocence, an innocence that they once and forever lost, and hibari basically lost it when his family was assassinated. eights are also associated to the deadly sin of lu st. for hibari its not necessarily the ns fw kinda lu st, rather bloodlu st. and its one big paradox because eights want to be in control of their surroundings, but being consumed by lu st means being under something/someone else’s control (and so we’re back to the basic fear). unhealthy eights are violent, despotic, reckless. all things we see in hibari. very unhealthy eights are also those who typically may develop the antisocial disorder, reason why i listed it above

since he wants to dominate his environment, hibari controls over the namimori and especially the school to feel “security”. he managed it through illegal means and pretty much lives in the school, namichuu is also one of the few places where usually he can sleep without having nightmares

yes, hibari loves sleeping but also he gets nightmares about his past more often than not

but i also love imagining hibari gradually healing and recovering from his trauma, so i do hc that in adulthood he’s mentally doing better. he can be a leader without being tyrannical. he can be strong while also acknowledging his own vulnerability. he is able to love again, too

the reason why he has a soft spot for little animals and children, like we see for ipin, is that he (unconsciously?) sees in them the innocence he himself lost. plus tiny and cute things help him cope when he is having episodes

he also treats ipin well because she is fon’s pupil. and i love to think of them as a little family

if hibari has a ring he really likes or is emotionally attached to he makes sure to never wear it on his fingers so he doesnt risk breaking it with his flames

hibari is pretty much a nerd, in his own twisted way. i mean. he’s seen reading in a bunch of official arts and we know that he’s very fond of the wonders of the world, he started up the foundation for his box researches and he knows well how illusions work - which means he studied them. since he was moved by his hatred towards mukuro, his illusion studies must have reached an unhealthy level, becoming an obsession

fon trained hibari on how to fight against illusions as well

for hibari, finding out he has mist flames too was very much of a shock, but he eventually accepts it. he only uses those flames if really needed (like the foundation entry camouflage)

i will get back to this post when i’ll have established:

why hibari picks tonfas as his weapons (i already have an idea but i havent gone into details myself enough to write about it here)

hibari’s parents and fon’s mother’s name

anything relevant that i forgot or come up with

#khr #katekyo hitman reborn #hibari kyoya #kyoya hibari #khr headcanon #headcanon #trans headcanon #tw: death #tw: murder #tw: eating disorder #cw: mental illness #i wont tag the two people i tagged in my first post again so that i dont bother them again shdjz #also made the answer to one of them more vague so i didnt have to write the username there! why didnt i think about it the first time me du #i cant believe i had to repost this because of ONE word that went against the policy #and i had to censor the other with nonsensical letter space #like man this is so much

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askovertherainbowblog · 5 years ago

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Do you ever feel like your government is actively working to institute a theocracy right under your very nose, and all anyone can seem to do is tweet? (I’m not knocking the art of the well-placed tweet, by the way. Case and point the account pictured above.)

Here’s what’s going on in my part of the world, which is Alberta (Commonly known as the bible belt of Canada):

The recently elected UCP (United Conservative Party #UnderHisEye) has, by its inaction, effectively canceled a work group dedicated to eradicating the insidious and abusive practice of “reparative” therapy for LGBT+ persons. Minister of Health Tyler Shandro has claimed on twitter that he told the group they were welcome to continue meeting. However, according to Emma Graney of the Edmonton Journal, his office released a statement that “The working group has disbanded with the change in govt.” AKA, they’re pretending the group (which included a survivor of conversion therapy) doesn’t merit focus because conversion therapy/torture “doesn’t happen here.”

If you dig a little deeper, you’ll see this simply isn’t true. Of course, nobody is coming right out and calling their services conversion therapy. That would be bad PR. The practice is couched in the language of soul-searching, healing trauma, and respecting individual faith. Alberta survivor Kevin Schultz was undergoing private faith-based counseling to realign his sexual orientation as late as 2007. Journey Canada, formerly Living Waters, which claims to help folks “experience Jesus in their sexuality” (kinky?) still operates across Canada.

If anyone is in doubt, the Human Rights Campaign and the Canadian Psychology Association can shed light on why conversion therapy/counseling of any kind is deeply damaging and can even be life-threatening.

The previous NDP government at least gave the appearance of caring about the LGBT community. The UCP gives the appearance of wanting to give the appearance of caring. In any case, I kind of wonder, why not just oh I don’t know BAN CONVERSION THERAPY AS IF WE WERE A CIVILIZED 21ST CENTURY SOCIETY? The UCP certainly hasn’t shied away from taking bold action on controversial issues (eg. lowering minimum wage for minors like a bunch of literal cartoon Scrooge McDucks).

This conversion therapy fustercluck is one move in an alarmingly swift series of policy change plans the UCP has begun rolling out since April of this year. They have also pledged to remove key protections afforded to GSA’s (Gay-Straight Alliances, common “safe space” organizations for LGBT students found in secondary schools). This means teachers could, at their own discretion, be permitted to notify parents if their child joins a GSA. This would obviously defeat the whole purpose of GSA’s and put children at greater risk of abuse at home.

When urged to consult experts on why this was such a monumental mistake, and questioned about the purpose of his party’s decision, premier Kenney had this to say:

"I think it would be very rare [for parents to be notified]," Kenney said. "Probably only [when] dealing with very young kids or kids with unique emotional and mental health challenges."

AKA, he has no idea what the repercussions could be and is speaking in “likelihoods” like some kind of fiendish gremlin under a bridge, desperate to grant you three wishes whose loopholes will ruin your life. (PS: Back in 2006 Kenney bragged about working to repeal a spousal law that allowed gay men to visit their dying partners in the hospital during the AIDS crisis. So that’s the attitude we’re dealing with here.)

If you’re curious about what other draconian policies the UCP has lurking just around the corner you can read up on their full platform, which includes such gems as scrapping the carbon tax, pausing the K-12 curriculum review, pushing for more private health care options, and something ominously called the “climate war room.”

If you, like me, are having some serious Handmaid’s Tale flashbacks right now, you’re not being overdramatic. The erosion of minority and women’s rights at the hands of backsliding democracies worldwide is not some fad. It’s a real thing that is happening all around us while shiny apps are being pelted at us as a distraction.

So let’s move on to what can actually be done. Before I list some ideas, I want to cover a few key points. We’re often advised, as constituents of a district or riding, to take action by writing to our political representatives! Here’s why I think that’s a waste of time: the current political climate is extremely polarized. It’s a buzzword because it’s true. If your MLA is conservative, and you write them a letter urging them to see things your bleeding-heart liberal way... well, why would they care? You’re not even a part of the voter base they’re targeting, and they know it. They don’t need your support. Alberta voters skew overwhelmingly right-wing already.

My advice is to follow the money.

A PAC (Political Action Committee) is an organization that pools campaign contributions from members and donates them to campaigns for or against candidates or legislation. Shaping Alberta’s Future is a PAC whose stated aim is to promote a conservative Alberta with Kenney at the helm. In 2018, they raised a whopping $170,000 in two weeks to fund UCP ads. Their financial disclosure documents are pretty lengthy and can be confusing if you don’t know what you’re looking for. That’s why I’ve broken down the info into a list of the major 5-figure contributors, all (you’ll be bowled over with shock to learn) men, most of them members of the Motor Dealership of Alberta for some reason.

For those of us who live in Alberta/Canada, that means we can do the following:

HERE is a link to a form letter addressing major donors to Shaping Alberta’s Future, politely urging them to bring matters of LGBT youth safety to the government’s attention.

HERE is a link to a list of specific donors, their contact information, and contribution amounts. This info can be filled into the indicated sections on the above letter.

Simply print, sign, and mail the letters to the addresses provided. Postage should be fairly inexpensive but if it’s an issue, take a photo of your signed letter and Canada Post receipt and I’ll etransfer you the value of your postage (within reason, guys!). If you can’t access Google drive, I’ll copy the letter to you by whatever method you prefer.

If you’d like to add information to the above list, or offer a correction, please message us or email [email protected].

Additional things you can do (from anywhere):

Spreading the word always helps. Set up an email list or reddit thread. If you’re Albertan, print ten extra letters and ask a few friends to sign them. Pride month is just around the corner: bring a sheaf of letters with you to a parade and throw them in the air like confetti. (You’ll probably get some free condoms for your trouble; nice!)

Donations are not possible for everyone but if they’re possible for you, Youthsafe.net has a list of organizations that could use your support.

Stay vigilant. Read full articles covering both sides of the issues you’re investigating, and investigate in turn the veracity of your sources. Read posts from people you don’t agree with and, as infuriating as it is to have your person-hood invalidated by pseudo-scientific doctrine, pause to digest other points of view before formulating a vitriolic response. I’m not advising moderation (fuck moderation) but I am advising strategy.

Pursue local involvement. It’s tough to sit in front of a news cast in rural Canada and watch women in Alabama have their reproductive rights stripped from them, knowing a small donation to the ACLU is probably the most you can do short of upending your life to go on a march, and that won’t even move the needle much. But everyone, everywhere where voting happens, can march into a town hall and make their voice heard when it comes to the bullshit in their own community. The people around you want to get involved; they’re just not sure how to do it. Give them a means and they’ll stand beside you!

xoxo

#a handmaid's tale of alberta #ableg #conversion therapy tw #toto #lgbt

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