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withacapitalp · 1 year ago

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Quiet

For the STWG Daily Prompt today! This one is a little roundabout, but I just wanted to write some of the boys being goofy little besties!!!

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“Class, this is Dustin Henderson. He just moved here all the way from Arizona, isn’t that interesting?” Mrs. Wren said, gently nudging the boy further to the front of the room and giving him a soft smile, “Dustin, why don’t you tell us about yourself a little?”

Dustin looked like he would rather eat raw goat brains, and Mike couldn’t blame him. If Dustin was a kid who looked like Jimmy or Troy, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, but Dustin was a chubby short kid with a shock of wild curly hair and two missing front teeth. His shirt was black with a picture of a microscope with the words ‘Enjoy the little things’ underneath it, and he was wearing a wide brim hat with Einstein's theory of relativity stamped on it.

The new kid was a total nerd, and Mike’s heart went out to him.

“I moved here from Flagstaff. Um that’s a city in Arizona-” Dustin started to mumble, his eyes firmly on his shoes.

“Wow. We thought it was in Canada,” Troy interrupted with a mean little laugh.

A twitter went around the class, which was completely stupid in Mike’s opinion. It wasn’t even a funny joke, just something mean to say, and it made Dustin cringed back like he had been physically hit, his shoulder curling inward as he reached up to tug at the brim of his cap.

“Shut up, Troy,” Mike said without really thinking. He kind of wished he could take it back when Troy’s entire desk clump turned to him with murder in their eyes, but the tiny grateful look Dustin shot up at him made it worth it. Sort of.

“Boys,” Mrs. Wren droned, calling them both out even though Mike hadn’t done anything but defend Dustin when she should have. She sighed and shook her head, turning back to their newest student, keeping him on the pyre when she could have just let him go free.

“What was your favorite part of Flagstaff, Dustin?”

“I really liked going hiking with my dad,” Dustin answered, slightly perking up, “There’s this mountain called Humphrey’s Peak by us, it’s the biggest mountain in Arizona and it’s the start of the San Francisco peaks! There’s these lizards there called Gila Monsters, they’re the only venomous lizards in North America, and-”

Mike was leaning forward, drawn in by curiosity about the strange creatures, but oddly enough Dustin cut himself off with a sudden jolt, going back to his curled up turtle position from before. Their teacher waited for a second more before sighing again and adjusting the papers on her desk.

“Well, we don’t have much in the way of lizards here in Hawkins, but hopefully your classmates will help you to explore some of the local wildlife. We’re going to have some silent reading time now students, so take out your books. Dustin do you need me to help you pick one?” She asked, finally cutting him loose.

“No I’m okay,” Dustin said as he scurried to his seat, immediately opening his backpack and digging in it, conveniently not looking up at any of the boys near him. He pulled out a huge book, burying his face in it effectively cutting off any attempt to catch his eye.

Maybe he just needed another push. Mike was still pretty curious about those monsters.

“I’m Mike,” He offered.

“My name is Lucas,” Lucas added, catching what Mike was thinking immediately and following through like always.

“I’m Will, it’s nice to meet you,” Will rounded off, holding out his hand for Dustin to shake.

“Hi,” Dustin said shortly, still nestled tightly into his book.

Mike’s brow furrowed, and he looked away from Dustin to his friends, seeing if they had a plan. Lucas shrugged, and Will turned his face down to where he was secretly doodling under the book their teacher had assigned him. They were both just giving in that easily, which was just not acceptable.

Not when the prospect of information on a giant lizard was at their fingertips.

“What are you reading?” Mike tried again, still not willing to admit defeat.

“Oh this is Blackmoor. It’s a rule book,” Dustin explained, holding the book so they could see the front cover picture of a huge castle on a tall rock and a smaller picture of a wizard. Will was instantly intrigued by the wizard, leaning into Dustin’s space to point at the title above the castle.

“What’s Dungeons and Dragons?”

It was like a switch flipped. Dustin’s eyes lit up and he put the book flat on the desk so they could see inside, giving them all an eager little grin as he scooted his chair closer to the desks.

“It’s this super cool thing where you make up characters and adventures and use dice to decide what happens. My character is a bard who has a flute that can put people to sleep and this badass dagger!” Dustin exclaimed, pulling out a notebook so they could see a rudimentary drawing of a man holding a knife and a flute. Mike was sure Will could’ve done a much better version, but it was still pretty awesome. But Dustin wasn’t done, pulling out a tiny figurine and putting it in the middle of their desks.

“The game has got all these monsters like a mimic that pretends to be a treasure chest and this one is called the demogorgon-”

And then it was just over. Dustin jolted back, snatching his hand back like it had been caught in a cookie jar and pulling his hat practically over his eyes.

“I mean, it’s just a game,” Dustin murmured, playing with his fingers and tucking his chin to his chest.

Damn! Again! Now Mike was getting pissed.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Mike asked, frustrated that twice he had missed out on something fun.

“What?” Dustin replied, looking confused.

“Start talking about something cool and then cut yourself off right in the middle,” Lucas explained, already aware of what was annoying Mike. That was why they were best friends- Lucas just always seemed to know what was bugging him, “It’s weird.”

Weird was apparently the wrong word to use. All of the joy in the air instantly vanished, and Dustin’s shoulders were at his ears. Mike shot Lucas a tiny glare, the two of them having a silent argument as Dustin gathered up the courage to explain.

“Oh, um…My dad told me that I should try to be quieter if I wanted to make friends,” Dustin whispered, his cheeks beet red as he stammered out the words, “He um- he said it’s uh rude, you know? To not to let other people talk once in a while?”

Ouch.

Mike’s chest instantly seized up, and he looked down at his own desk, his copy of Tuck Everlasting staring back up at him. A quick sneak peek up at Lucas and Will revealed that they were doing the same, Will’s lip caught firmly between his teeth and Lucas’s mouth in a thin straight line.

It wasn’t exactly the same, but all three of them knew what it was like to be told to be quiet. They knew how hard it could be to have everything you love ridiculed or talked down to. Usually it was Troy or Jimmy or some of the other boys in their class doing it though, not their own parents.

“Tell us about the demogorgon,” Mike declared, speaking for all three. Judging by the looks he was being given not only by Lucas and Will, but also by Dustin, he had said the exact right thing.

#stwgdailyprompt #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #Lucas sinclair #will byers #st #stranger things #st drabble #pre season one #I think it would be so fun if Dustin was the one that got them into DND #and also s1 had such good characterization #and I miss it #so I'm bringing it back lmao #the party #the party stranger things

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chrisbitchtree · 11 months ago

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All For You

This is my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race!

The day Billy’s life changed forever was a Sunday in May. He’d never forget that for the rest of his life. He’d never forget how brightly the sun shone as he packed up his car and drove east, as his father kicked him out, refusing to pay for any more of Billy’s college tuition after finding him in bed with his friend Matt a week after they arrived home for summer vacation.

His was given the option to stay and continue to have his dad pay for his college education, but the conditions were that he move home and live there while finishing out his last two years of school, and that he give up his friends and his “lifestyle” as Neil called it.

Billy refused. He couldn’t live under Neil’s roof again. And suddenly the whole state of California, not just San Francisco, seemed too small, so he got in his car and drove. He hadn’t been aiming for the Midwest, had originally planned on Boston, but that’s where he’d landed, after his car had broken down on the side of the highway just outside of Chicago. Finding he liked the pace of the city more than he thought he would, he decided to stick around for a bit.

He applied anywhere he could, and the first place to call him back for an interview and offer him a job was a catering company. He’d worked as a waiter on and off through his first couple years of college, for extra spending money, so he was confident that he could do the job well.

He made friends easily, people who accepted him for who he was, falling in with a group of fellow servers, Heather and her girlfriend Robin, and their friend Steve, gorgeous, funny, goofy Steve, who could make Billy weak in the knees with one smile, and thoughts of whom filled Billy’s every waking hour, and most of his dreams too. They would work long hours, day after day, serving at all sorts of upscale events, and when they were done their shifts, they’d hit the clubs or bars, or go see a movie, then head to the diner for late night shakes and fries.

When Billy decided to stay long term, applying for and getting a transfer slot at a local university, he had to find a place to live. Heather had been nice enough to offer up her couch for the summer, but that couldn’t be a long term solution, so Billy put out feelers for a potential roommate. It turned out that Steve was looking for one as well, so it worked out perfectly.

It seemed like a match made in heaven. They were the same age, both out on their own with no ties to family, working hard to make a name for themselves in the world. Steve was an especially hard worker, going to school for culinary management by day, and working as a server by night and on weekends. He’d also pick up shifts in the prep kitchen when he could, telling Billy that it was important for him to know how all aspects of a food business worked if he wanted to own his own restaurant or catering business some day.

Billy really admired Steve’s drive, and it only added to his attraction to the other boy. He tried to fight his feelings for Steve, but it was hard when he was so sweet and kind, funny and thoughtful, and looked like he did to boot. He had long legs that seemed to go on forever in his black server’s pants, a lean, toned swimmer’s body, and soft looking, wild brown hair that curled up in some spots and flopped over in others.

Billy wanted nothing more than to kiss Steve’s plush pink lips while running his hands through it. It felt like he and Steve were maybe building to something, but it was always hard to tell. One minute, Steve would be flirty, touching Billy’s arm as they talked, and the next, he’d be moving to the other side of the couch, keeping a safe distance between them.

In the face of this, Billy tried to tamp down his feelings, doing his best to just enjoy his friendship with Steve. They would help each other study, make sure the other ate, they worked and partied together, and it was really starting to feel to Billy like he had a family again, between Steve, Heather, and Robin.

Then, Billy had to go ahead and combine his bad habits of jumping to conclusions and opening his big mouth without thinking about what he was going to say first. He and Steve had both been scheduled to work a massive Christmas party for some regular clients of theirs, the Harringtons. They hired the catering company almost every single Saturday evening, for small dinner parties, and they were Billy’s least favourite events to work, because the Harringtons were so awful.

They were rude to the staff, telling them that they were slow and lazy, and constantly made up stupid white lies, like saying that they’d asked for white win when they were poured a glass of red, even though the servers knew that they’d asked for red, or saying that their steaks were overcooked, even when they were a perfect medium rare. The only thing that kept the catering company coming back was how well the jobs paid, and the generous tips that the Harringtons would give them at the end of each event.

Nobody ever wanted to work a Saturday night, but Billy would be fine with working every single Saturday if it meant he never had to serve those awful people again, so he was deeply frustrated to see his name on the list of servers for their Christmas event. He knew there would be a huge payout for it though, so he decided to just grin and bear it, and hope the night would go by quickly.

Thankfully, it did go by relatively fast, and at the end of the shift, he went looking for Steve, hoping that they could ride back to the warehouse space that the catering company ran out of in the same big white food service van. As he rounded the corner towards the Harrington’s front hall, he heard Steve speaking in hushed tones with a woman. That was weird. The female voice didn’t sound like anyone from work.

Curious, Billy froze in place and listened. “Son,” the woman said. “You know you’re welcome home at anytime. In fact, we hope that you’ll join us for Christmas dinner. You just need to stop that. And in case you need help making your decision, here you go.”

Mom,” Steve replied, his tone stern. “I don’t want this. And I told you and dad that I’m not changing my mind. Take this back. I don’t want it. We’ll see about Christmas.”

“I’ll throw it in the trash if you don’t keep it,” the woman said, before walking away, her heels clacking on the tile floor. She rounded the corner, followed by Steve, who was stuffing an envelope into the pocket of his black pants.

Holy shit. Steve was the Harrington’s son. He wasn’t like Billy at all. He flattened himself against the wall, trying to remain unseen. Thankfully, he did, both Steve and Mrs. Harrington too wrapped up in the argument they’d just been having to pay attention to anything else.

Billy was fuming. All this time, Steve had been acting like he was just a regular guy, trying to scrape by, with no one to care for him, just like Billy, but in reality, he was richer than Billy could ever dream of being, and he had a family, right there in town, that seemed to care about him and want him around, even if they were assholes to almost everyone else. And here, Billy had thought he and Steve would spend Christmas together. Sure, he’d never actually asked, but it seemed to make sense. Where else would either of them go? Billy had already been trying to see if he could fit a small turkey in their apartment sized oven, and Steve was planning on spending the day with his rich family in their mansion!

He tried to act normal on the ride back to work, and on the car ride back home, but by the time they got back to their apartment, he couldn’t hold back anymore. “So, I hear you have big plans for Christmas day, huh? Gonna go over to mommy and daddy’s and let them spoil you? I can’t believe you never told me that the Harringtons were your parents, Steve. You just sat back and let us complain about what assholes they are, and it turns out you’re their fucking spawn! Did you think that was funny, asshole? I hope you enjoy your fancy meal while I sit here all alone eating a frozen dinner and getting drunk off cheap wine.”

Steve, who’d been in the middle of taking off his coat when Billy started his little rant, stood frozen, his eyes wide, his face ashen, his jacket half on and half off. Billy could see the bulging envelope in his pocket. It probably had a giant wad of cash in it.

“Billy, I…” he started, but Billy cut him off, too mad to listen.

“I just don’t understand how you could do this. All the months we’ve known each other, and we’ve lived together for almost four months, struggling to make rent and pay the bills, and you’ve got an endless supply of cash right there. I heard your mom give you the envelope of money. I saw it in your pocket.” He pulled off his coat, throwing it towards the hall closet, and stomped to his room, slamming the door shut.

He hoped that Steve would leave him alone so he could cool off, but no such luck. Not a minute passed before Steve was yanking Billy’s door open. Hands on his hips, he looked like he was about to lay into Billy, so Billy grabbed his headphones, turning on his music and cranking it up loud. He closed his eyes and laid back on his bed, doing his best to ignore Steve.

It worked for a little while, but then Steve was snatching the headphones off his head. “Hey, asshole!” he shouted. “Did you ever think for one fucking second about asking me why exactly I’m struggling to pay for stuff if my parents are loaded?”

Huh, yeah, Billy hadn’t really thought to ask. “Because you’re a massive idiot who doesn’t know how to be happy with what he has?”

“No, dumbass, because, exactly like you, I was kicked out of my house for being queer. But unlike you, I don’t have the benefit of being halfway across the country from my parents. They hire the catering company almost every week, just to keep an eye on me, and remind me of the lifestyle I left behind, and I don’t want to say anything about it to anyone because they bring in good money for the business, and despite my repeated requests for my parents to leave me alone outside of work, they’re constantly trying to bribe me to come back, with the conditions that I take something they choose in school and marry a woman.

But I don’t want that. I want to own a restaurant. I want to make a name for myself. I want to date guys. I actually wanted to date you, you fucking prick. Until tonight, that is. I really liked you, but it turns out you’re just as awful and judgemental as everyone else in my life. I was going to ask you if you wanted to spend Christmas together, and I took the money from my mom so I could afford to buy you a Christmas present, but I really hope that you enjoy that frozen dinner and boxed wine. I’ll talk to Heather and Robin about going there.”

Billy sat speechless as he watched Steve walk out of his room, slamming the door behind him. He was such an idiot. He had to make this better somehow, but he had no clue what the fuck to do. It wouldn’t be enough to just say sorry. His big mouth had pushed them way beyond that. No, he needed to make a grand gesture, something that would really show Steve how much he meant to Billy.

It came to him the next morning as he was hiding out in his bedroom, listening to the sounds of Steve getting ready to go to work, a shift he and Billy thankfully didn’t share. Steve had mentioned that he was going to spend Christmas with Heather and Robin, since Billy had gotten himself ex-communicated.

Robin and Heather, from a small town in Texas, couldn’t afford to go home for the holidays, so they were staying in Chicago. If that was the situation the two of them were in, there were probably others, at work and school, that couldn’t afford to make the trip home, or didn’t have family to spend the time with. Maybe Billy could offer to host a potluck dinner at the apartment, to show Steve that he wasn’t alone, and that he had a lot of people, most especially Billy, who cared about him.

As soon as he heard the front door shut and the key turn in the lock, Billy sprang out of bed and raced to the living room, scooping up the phone, cord stretching across the floor, and dialed Robin and Heather’s number.

He’d been so caught up in how to make this better that he’d never considered that Steve would have already told them what happened. He sat through a full half hour of both women trading the phone back and forth as they took turns berating him for his behaviour the previous evening. He knew he deserved it, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing to hear all the stupid shit he’d done repeated back to him.

When they were done, and he had apologized profusely, promising to never hurt Steve again, he told them his plan. After another round of promises to never intentionally hurt Steve again, they agreed to get him back to his and Billy’s apartment on the evening of the 25th.

When Steve got home that day, he reluctantly listened to Billy’s apology, and just as reluctantly accepted it, telling Billy that he knew he hadn’t meant it, and was just being a hot headed asshole, which Billy deserved, but since they were out of school for the semester now, any time they weren’t working over the next two weeks consisted of Steve mostly avoiding Billy by going right to his room when he got home, or leaving the apartment altogether for long stretches of time.

A small part of Billy hoped that anger wasn’t the only reason that Steve was avoiding Billy, that maybe he still had feelings for Billy too, and just felt awkward about addressing those feelings now. He didn’t want to get his hopes up too high though.

Billy tried to spend that time working on himself, seeking out a therapist who could help him work through his feelings of jealousy and resentment towards anyone who he perceived as having an easier time than him in life, and help him work through his abandonment issues, both things he’d spent way too long shoving down inside himself until they bubbled up to the surface, out of his control.

He also contacted everyone at work and his school friends that said they didn’t have anywhere to go for the holidays, making them all promise to keep it a secret from Steve. His invitations had an overwhelmingly positive response, which both saddened and heartened him. He’d never thought of how many other people felt alone as he did.

Steve spent the night of the 24th at Robin and Heather’s apartment, so Billy worked to prep the apartment as best as he could. They didn’t have much furniture in their apartment, and there wouldn’t be much room for extra tables and chairs anyway, so he decided they would all eat on the floor. He bought bright red and green tablecloths at the dollar store and draped them all across the living room floor after pushing the couch and armchair against the wall, and a few of tomorrow’s guests have loaned him Christmas lights and decorations, and one even brought over a tiny tree.

He was actually pretty happy with it by the time he was done. Now he just had to wait. He made cookies to fill the time, ten different kinds, from his mother’s handwritten recipes, one of the only things he brought with him when he moved to remind him of her. By the time he stopped for the night, the counters were full of baked goods.

The next day, as the guests started to arrive, Billy grew more and more worried that Steve wouldn’t show up. He didn’t know what kind of plan Robin and Heather had concocted to get Steve to go back to his apartment, he’d left that to them and trusted that they’d follow through with it, but he was starting to second guess whether they’d be successful.

They said they’d have Steve at the apartment by 6pm, but that ticked by, and then 6:15, and 6:30, and Billy was starting to give up hope, resigning himself to failure. He had an apartment full of friends, but no Steve, the one who mattered the most. Then, just as the clock struck 6:45, the door flew open, and Billy could hear Steve’s voice, even from back in the kitchen, where he was grabbing more napkins.

“I still don’t get why…” the words died on Steve’s lips just as Billy rounded the corner to their living room. There stood Steve, with Robin and Heather behind him. Steve looked as beautiful as ever, hair flopping in his eyes under his hat, and a startled look on his face as he took in the space, packed full of their friends and coworkers. He locked eyes with Billy, who suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

“Billy, can I talk to you? In my bedroom?” Steve asked.

Billy followed silently behind him.

“You have a lot of nerve, having all of our mutual friends over for a Christmas party at our apartment while I’m over at Robin and Heather’s, sulking. You’re really trying to hurt me as much as possible, aren’t you? We just came to get the bottle opener. Robin broke theirs. If you don’t need it for your party guests, I’ll just take it and get out of your hair, so the festivities can continue.”

Oh god, this really wasn’t going according to plan. “Steve, I didn’t plan a party for while you were gone. This party is for you. Well, for you and for everyone who didn’t have anywhere else to go for Christmas. But mostly for you. I wanted to show you how many people you have in your life, that you don’t need your parents. We’re your family now. I’m really, really sorry about what I said to you that night, but you mean more to me than anything, and I just wanted to make you happy. I don’t think you’re a spoiled brat. I think you’re the most amazing, hardworking, kind, special person I’ve ever met, and I hope you’ll give me a chance to prove that to you.”

A small smile started in the corner of Steve’s mouth, the first thing even close to Steve’s usual grin that Billy had seen in weeks. “Ok, I’ll think about forgiving you. On one condition.”

“Anything. I’ll do anything for you, Steve.”

Steve opened his bedside table and pulled out a sprig of something green. “I was going to use this stupid mistletoe to finally try to make a move on you tonight, but I’m gonna leave the move making to you now.” He handed the sprig to Billy, who held it over their heads.

He leaned in close to Steve. “Can I kiss you, you beautiful goof?”

Steve didn’t respond, and instead just pressed his lips to Billy’s own. They stayed like that for a long while, until someone knocked on the door, letting Billy know that his kitchen timer was going off for the hors d’oeuvres.

“Come help me in the kitchen?” Billy asked, holding out his hand. Steve took it, following him out of the room.

The spent the rest of the party glued to each other’s sides, and Billy could tell from the soft looks Steve gave him, and the giant grin plastered to his face that this had been the right move. Billy was beyond happy that the plan had worked. Laying in bed that night, holding Steve in his arms, Billy thanked whatever higher power had decided he was worthy of a second chance at happiness.

*** From that year onwards, every single Christmas, no matter where their lives took them, through the opening of their first, then second restaurant, marriage, and the adoption of both of their children, one thing never changed. Every single December, they put the word out to anyone and everyone they knew that they were welcome in their home for a celebration of friendship and found family come Christmas day.

Please look forward to the amazing work from the next contributor, @oopsiedaisiesbaby!

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove relay race #harringrove fic #chrisbitchtree writes

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unknownworlds4 · 1 year ago

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As we near the end of pride month, I would like to celebrate a number of LGBTQ+ figures that may be unknown to some.

Alan Turing (1912 - 1954)

Alan Turing was British mathematician, cryptologist, and computer scientist who is credited as the founder of modern computer science and artificial intelligence. During World War II, he worked for Britain’s Government Code and Cypher School at Bletchley Park, leading the effort to decrypt German naval intelligence. Turing created a number of methods and devices that helped crack the German Enigma Code and allowed the allies to read German intelligence and allow allied ships to avoid U-Boat ‘Wolf-packs’. Turing’s work was pivotal in helping the allied victory in the war. Sadly, Turing was arrested in 1952 for homosexual acts and convicted of ‘gross indecency’. He accepted chemical castration as an alternative to prison. In 1954, was found dead from suicide by cyanide poisoning. It’s believed that Turing’s work helped shortened the war by several years.

Harvey Milk (1930 - 1978)

Harvey Milk was a politician and the first openly gay man to serve in public office in the United States. Milk moved to San Francisco in 1972 and took up residence in the Castro District, a neighborhood that was heavily populated by lesbians and gay men, and opened a camera store called Castro Camera. Milk became involved in politics because of civic issues and policies that drew his ire. Homosexuality was still heavily persecuted in the city at the time. In 1973, he announced his declared his candidacy for city supervisor. However, he faced a negative reception from the established gay political scene and lost the election. He lost his second election two years later. By this point, Milk had become a leading figure in the gay community, known as the “Mayor of Castro Street”, and had allies that included Mayor George Moscone, Assembly Speaker Willie Brown, and future Senator Diane Feinstein. Finally, in 1978, Milk was elected to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, inaugurated January 8. During his tenure he was involved in a number of issues including childcare, housing, and police reform. Sadly, he only served eleven months in office before he, along with George Moscone, was assassinated by former supervisor Dan White, who was against many of Milks policies. Today, Harvey Milk is considered an icon of San Francisco and a martyr of the LGBTQ movement.

Rose Cleveland (1846 - 1918)

Rose Cleveland was the sister of U.S. President Grover Cleveland and, as such, acted as First Lady of the United States from his inauguration until he married Frances Folsom in 1886. After leaving the White House she became a teacher, writer, and lecturer in Indiana. At age 44 she started a romantic relationship with wealthy widow Evangeline Marrs Simpson. They exchanged numerous letters, some with explicitly erotic imagery. The relationship cooled after six years after Simpson married Episcopal preacher Bishop Henry Whipple, despite Cleveland’s protests. After Whipple died in 1901, their relationship resumed. Cleveland and Evangeline moved to Bagni di Lucca, Italy in 1910, where they cared for Evangeline’s ill brother and settled there after his death. They lived there together until Cleveland died during the 1918 Influenza Pandemic. After her death, Evangeline wrote “the light has gone out for me…the loss of this noble and great soul is a blow that I shall not recover from”. Evangeline died in 1930 and is buried in the cemetery in Italy next to Rose. Many of their letters remain an important part of LGBTQ history.

Andy Warhol (1928 - 1987)

Andy Warhol was an American artist, director, and producer who was a leading figure in the pop art movement of the 1950’s to 1970’s. This movement focused on combining fine art with elements of popular culture, hence the name pop art. Warhol’s paintings focused on mass produced consumer goods and celebrity portraits. Warhol’s most famous pieces include Campbell’s Soup Cans (1962), Green Coca-Cola Bottles (1962), Marilyn Diptych (1962), and Mao Tse-Tung (1972). He also directed and produced experimental films including Empire (1964) and Chelsea Girls (1966). His New York City gallery, The Factory, was a popular gathering place for artists, musicians, actors, socialites, and celebrities. In 1966, he became the manager of rock band The Velvet Underground, which became the house band of The Factory. In 1969, he created Interview magazine, which features interviews with celebrities, artists, musicians, and other creatives. Warhol lived openly as a gay man before the gay liberation movement and had a series of male partners. He said his sexuality was a major influence of his work. Warhol died on February 22, 1987 due to complications from a gallbladder surgery. Andy Warhol is regarded as one of America’s most famous visual artists.

Gladys Bentley (1907 - 1960)

Gladys Bentley was an American blues singer, pianist, and entertainer during the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920’s and 1930’s. Her career took off after performing at Harry Hansberry’s Clam House, a well known gay speakeasy in New York City. She gained popularity as a black, lesbian, cross dressing performer. She performed in men’s clothes and was backed up by a chorus of drag queens. She sang with a deep, growling voice, and took popular songs and added her own raunchy lyrics while flirting with women in the audience. Despite being openly lesbian in the beginning of her career, she later started wearing dresses and married during the more conservative 1950’s in order to adapt to the mindset of the time period. Bentley died of pneumonia in 1960 and is remembered as an icon of both the LGBTQ and Black communities.

Willem Arondeus (1894 - 1943)

Willem Arondeus was an openly gay Dutch artist and writer who fought for the Dutch resistance against Nazi occupation during World War II. Prior to the war, he wished to work as an artist, but he found very little popularity, so he turned to writing instead. After Germany occupied The Netherlands, Arondeus joined the Resistance Movement, publishing underground periodicals and forging documents. His most famous endeavor, was his involvement in the bombing of the Amsterdam Civil Registry in 1943. The Civil Registry was established following the German invasion and occupation of the Netherlands in 1940 and was used to keep records of all residents of the country and identified those who were Jewish, resistance members, and those who could be called up for forced labor. On March 27, resistance members, including Arondeus, entered the building by disguising themselves as police officers and sedating the guards. They then piled all the documents on the floor and set of explosives. They fire department delayed putting out the fire and then doused the whole building with water. 800,000 ID cards were destroyed in total. Unfortunately, someone betrayed Arondeus and he was subsequently arrested, tried, and sentenced to death. Before his execution, his last words were “tell people that homosexuals are not cowards”.

Gilbert Baker (1951 - 2017)

Gilbert Baker was an American artist and designer who is the original creator of the LGBTQ Rainbow Pride flag. He joined the anti-war movement in the 1970’s where he met, and became friends with, Harvey Milk. Milk commissioned Baker to create a flag that could represent gay pride. Using the American flag as inspiration, Baker hand sew the original flag, which had eight colored stripes (two more than the modern version). Each color represents a different aspect important to the gay community: (from hot pink to violet) sex, life, healing, sunlight, nature, magic, serenity, and spirit. The flag was first flown in San Francisco on June 25, 1978, for gay pride day. Baker died in 2017, and is regarded as a major figure in the pride movement. Today there are many different variations of the Pride flag, with each one representing a different group from the gay community

Larry Kramer (1935 - 2020)

Larry Kramer was an American playwright, author, film producer, and gay rights activist, who worked to bring awareness to the AIDS crisis in the 1980’s. He began his career writing scripts for Columbia pictures, winning an Academy Award for the 1969 film Women in Love. After witnessing the disease later known as AIDS spread among his friends, Kramer became involved in gay activism. In 1982, Kramer co-founded Gay Men’s Health Crisis, now known as GMHC, which provides social services for those infected with AIDS, along with testing, legal assistance, and mental health support. It’s currently the largest AIDS assistance organization in the world After, growing frustrated with the government paralysis and apathy towards gay men, he wanted to engage in further action, so in 1987, he helped found the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power (ACT UP). ACT UP is a direct action protest organization that works to change legislation and public policy to end the AIDS crisis. ACT UP soon had chapters in cities all over the United States. The movement then spread internationally, with separate movements being established in other countries including the United Kingdom, Canada, France, India, and Germany. In 1992, Kramer wrote the play ‘The Destiny of Me’, which follows a character from his 1985 play ‘The Normal Heart’ seeking experimental treatment for AIDS. The play was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize. The Normal Heart debuted on Broadway in 2011, and was adapted into an HBO movie in 2014. Kramer died of pneumonia on May 27, 2020.

Bessie Smith (1894 - 1937)

Bessie Smith was an American blues singer, nicknamed the ‘Empress of Blues’. She was the most popular female blues singer of the 1930’s. Smith stated her career busking in the streets to help her family financially. In 1912, she auditioned for a music troupe that included blues legend Ma Rainey. She was originally hired as a dancer. Smith began her solo career at the 81 Theater in Atlanta, Georgia. She signed with Columbia Records in 1923. She made 160 recordings for Columbia, accompanied by some of the most famous musicians of the day including Louis Armstrong, Coleman Hawkins, Fletcher Henderson, and Sidney Bechet. She became the highest paid black entertainer of the day. Throughout her career, smith was apologetically herself, having affairs with both men and women. Some speculate her bisexuality was hinted at in the lyrics of her songs, including ‘boy in the boat’: “when you see two women walking hand in hand/Just look ‘em over and try to understand/They’ll go to those parties/Having the lights down low/Only those parties where women can go”. Sadly, her career was cut short in 1937, when she died at the age of 43 due to injuries sustained in a car accident enroute to Chattanooga, Tennessee. Her funeral was attended by more then 5,000 people. In 1989, she was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, with an entry saying her reign was “definitive, unprecedented, and glorious”.

James Baldwin (1924 - 1987)

James Baldwin was an American writer who gained critical acclaim across multiple forms, including essays, novels, plays, and poems. In 1953, he published his first book ‘Go Tell it on the Mountain’, a semi-autobiographical novel which tells the story of a young African American man who grew up in Harlem, New York City, and his relationship with his family and the Pentecostal Church. In 1998, Modern Library ranked the book 39th on its list of 100 best English language novels of the 20th century. In 2005, Time Magazine included the book in its list of the 100 Best Novels from 1923 (when Time was first published) to 2005. In 1956, Baldwin wrote ‘Giovanni’s Room’ whose main character was a gay American man living in Paris, France, who began an affair with an Italian bartender named Giovanni, whom he met at a Gay bar. Gay and Bisexual men are also frequently featured in his other works. His unfinished manuscript Remember This House was expanded and adapted in the 2016 Oscar nominated documentary I Am Not Your Negro, which won the BAFTA Award for Best Documentary. His 1974 novel ‘If Beale Street Could Talk’ was adapted into a movie in 2018, which won Best Supporting Actress for Regina King at the 91st Academy Awards, where the film was also nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Original Score. King also received Best Supporting Actress at the 76th Golden Globe Awards and 24th Critics Choice Awards. Both the National Board of Review and the American Film Institute included it in their top 10 films of 2018. Today, James Baldwin is considered one of the most famous LGBTQ writers in American history.

#history #queer pride #pride month #queer stuff #queer history #lgbtq #bisexual #homoseuxality #gay pride #pride 2023

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kiarajyshi · 7 months ago

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introducing! statistics

full name: kiara joshi

nickname: ki, ara

age: twenty-nine

date of birth: september 21st

zodiac: virgo

hometown & current: lincoln city, oregon

previous residence: cambridge, massachusetts

gender identity: cis woman

pronouns: she/her

sexual orientation: exploring

faceclaim: simone ashley

tw: cancer mention, therapy mention

before

born in san francisco, the joshi family moved to lincoln just in time for her baby brother to be born when she was five years old. truthfully, she didn't have many feelings outside of crying about missing her friends and dealing with having to suddenly share her parents.

a bit of a nerd in highschool, only in the sense that she was a mathlete and in the science club. the girl was a math genius. could have probably been a world renown mathematician if she had put her mind to it. but as a student, she was into robotics and football [soccer].

kiara was always a bit of a blunt person. not to be cruel or to cause way issues but genuinely because she didn't want to waste time with beating around the bush all the time.

While most knew she was applying to harvard, after all, she was the kind of girl that the regalia from the school even before being there. she always secretly applied to MIT. mostly, for her own enjoyment. to make sure she could actually do it. what do you know, she did. while it was sort of a backup school, she was proud of that acceptance and kept the letter. right next to the robot she built for bot wars that she was never allowed to participate in.

she may not have always looked it, but kiara also loves sports. her parents only let her join one, but she was often at all of the american football and basketball games. her books and homework in her lap while. pray you never bet against her or got into a fantasy football league she was in. because you definitely lost.

the problem with how they played that damn game… was that they couldn’t tell who’s dares were who’s. her dare had been about that lake… could it have been her’s? it was a question that tormented her for the weeks that followed. Into her next year of school…

after

the first year of harvard was one of the worst times she had experienced after chris disappeared. the guilt of what may have been hung over her head like an axe and all her focus seemed to go right down the drain. kiara had worked so hard to get into harvard, and things just weren't going how she needed. it was what led her into the office of her first therapist. anything to help.

kiara has one sorta ex. maybe. they never really talked about it. a first kiss and mostly emotional connection. a girl that was with her through the hardest part of her first year of college. with all of her issues at the time, the relationship had been rough and while she still holds her as a friend, they didn't make it after she left harvard and decided to go into education at cambridge college. but she still held her in her heart for being the person who got her to the therapist’s office in the first place.

therapy was... the best decision she ever made. while there were still some things she didn't speak of, there was so much more she did. in the end the coping mechanisms she learned through them helped her handle the things she couldn't say out loud.

through that, she also found the courage to walk away from the path of being a doctor and instead became a teach of math and science. she never knew she would enjoy it so much.

kiara found herself back in lincoln two years before the invitation. her father was diagnosed with cancer and while her brother was off at harvard... her mother needed help at home with everything. putting her big girl pants on, she offered and found herself teaching math and science to seniors and coaching soccer at new horizons.

this new... dare... has put kiara on edge but truth be told... she figured it was about time to face what happened. she didn't know about everyone else but she refused to allow it to fester in her nightmares anymore. something happened that night. something more than just a dare and it was about damn time they figured it out. they deserved that much... chris did too.

connection ideas

friends

you aren't her ride or die, but you matter. she'll listen when you need and ear. she'll help you when she can but won't drop everything. there are limits to her devotion. but you can count on the fact that she will tell you the truth whenever you need it.

besties

you are one of the chosen few. maybe someone from high school that lasted through the years? maybe someone she met after she moved back to lincoln or met in cambridge. all that matters is you are someone she considered close. someone she would be for if you called in the middle of the night. no questions asked.

fellow nerds

were you just nerds supporting other nerds? did you help her build the battle bot she never submitted?

people she tore down when they tried to bully her

she had a habit of tearing down athletes verbally based on their sports statistics so watch out.

crushes

she didn't have the option of dating or the energy really. she would have had to hide it from her parents. sneak around. AND deal with school? not happening. but she crushed. a lot. would you like to be one?

crusher..er?

idk, someone that had a crush on her? she probably never saw it or maybe destroyed your heart.. there are options.

enemy

were you an asshole? did you make fun of people just cause you could? were you a bully? well come on down! i bet you could have been her enemy.

arch nemesis... academically

you, you're the one that annoyed her. wasn't as smart as she was, or so she thought, and had to deal with it if somehow you got a .5 higher than her. you drove her to do better and in school, she hated you for it... now, she would thank you

extras

pinterest [x] playlist [x]

#i got milky way for blood evolution in my vein || intro #2014intro

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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months ago

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to being ghosts.

Chapter 6 - Your Ghost

Chapter Warnings: takes place 6 months after ch 5, brief angst, mentions of Vic's parental trauma, references to previous torture and scars, fluff and happy ending. 1.1k+ words.

6 Months Later

“Wait, you’re an EO?” the barista asks. “That’s awesome. Do you mind me asking what your power is?”

“Uh, thanks. I can raise the dead,” Sydney answers softly.

“Sick. Is that your dog? He’s adorable.”

Dol barks in answer, and Sydney gestures for him to return to the table.

“There’s a few EOs here that I work with but none of them have powers that cool. One of them can heat things, though, which comes in handy in a coffee shop.”

“I bet,” Sydney murmurs. She accepts her hot chocolate and escapes with a “thank you” before she has to answer any other questions about her powers.

“Still think the new world is better than the NWC?” Mitch asks with a smile.

“Yes and no. The whole ‘EOs are welcome to live as the people they are’ is great, but everyone talking about being EOs is weird. Some guy told me that it meant I not only looked extraordinary but was ExtraOrdinary, so pickup lines haven’t improved.”

“Maybe don’t tell Vic about the flirting part.”

“If we ever see him again,” Sydney says into her cup.

“He did like San Francisco,” Mitch muses. “We could always just start looking for him.”

“I don’t think he’d go back there,” Sydney answers, looking over Mitch’s head.

“Why?” Mitch inquires.

She gestures to the television screen mounted over the door with her chin. “Because she’s not there,” she says.

Mitch sees you on television, once again denying your role in the war against the New World Charter. He smiles, and Sydney stands with her cup before calling Dol. They have a home to call their own now, and though Victor comes and goes as he pleases, the family of misfits he’s created finally feels like a real family. Sydney, Mitch, and Dol head home and ignore your interview because the story hasn’t changed, no matter how much praise you receive.

Someone calls your name as you walk out of the city hall building. You see the news van parked by the door and shake your head. Being hailed as a savior isn’t something you enjoy, and you’re ready for something else to happen, so you’re not the center of attention anymore. Despite that, you smile and greet the reporter kindly.

“You are being credited with the new freedom circling the globe following the elimination of the New World Charter. Many people want to know what happened in the black site in Oregon that led to the beginning of your fight for EOs and freedom for all,” she says into the microphone before moving it toward you.

“I don’t know why people think I did so much. That night in Oregon was… terrifying, and I would have died if not for a caring EO who saved me and used the opportunity to do the right thing,” you answer.

“So, you maintain that you had no role in the EO versus NWC war?”

“I do. I mean, look at me, do I look like I could change the world? Anyone can change the world, but it takes a special kind of person to run into danger for others.”

“Thanks for talking to me, then, and enjoy the new world.”

“You, too.”

As she returns to the van and they rush out of the parking lot, hopefully seeking a new story to fixate on, you notice a person standing behind your car. You shake your head and smile when you see the black trench coat below the blond hair.

“Victor Vale,” you greet. “What can I do for you?”

He turns slowly and rakes his eyes over you. You have scars from your time in the Canada region with Smoak and even more from accompanying Victor when he infiltrated the New World Charter headquarters, but that’s not what Victor sees.

“Have you heard her recently?” Victor asks.

“I haven’t. Not since she told me you were good.”

“Angie,” Victor says softly. “Our ghost friend. Her name was Angie Knight.”

“How long have you known?” you ask as you step closer to him.

“Since she told us that Daniels was on our tail. I- I didn’t know how to bring it up or if it would matter.”

“Tell me that it at least gave you some closure. If she came back to help, she can’t be mad at you, Vic.”

Victor looks away and waits a moment before saying, “Someone found Daniels. They started working on that hotel and a worker found the body, called the police.”

You nod and promise, “I’ll make it disappear. My contact in the FBI has a vague idea of how much damage we- I left.”

“So, you’ll take credit for my crimes, but not my heroic efforts?” Victor teases.

“Something like that. Vic, I am forever indebted to you. My entire life is yours. Anything you need, say the word.”

Victor flexes his hands at his sides before asking, “What about some company? Maybe a little government immunity to do one more thing?”

“The company I can certainly provide. But I’m private sector now, Vic, I don’t decide who gets immunity.”

“That’s even better. No one can make you do anything you don’t want to in the private sector, and you can just prove how good you are.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Someone wrote a book about EOs and how unnatural they are. I’d like to show them just how wrong they are.”

You raise your eyebrows to ask, “That wouldn’t be the one by the Vales would it?”

“I hadn’t noticed the authors’ names.”

“I see. If you want to do this one more time, remind these people that EOs are still humans with rights, you know I’m with you all the way.”

“Rights to-“

“Not to break laws, Vic,” you interrupt with a laugh. “I’m starting to think you just use me to be a better criminal.”

“Why not a better human, a better EO?”

You sigh and reach for Victor’s hand as you promise, “I’ve got your back, Victor Vale.”

The war you’ve already won makes this seem like an argument more than a battle, and Victor’s openness with you is the best reward of them all. His comfort around you makes you feel at home anywhere, though you suspect he is about to invite you back to his house, where he and his family live together happily. You’ll always have a home there, too.

“Tell me where you want me and when, and I’ll be there. Or, if you want me to wait beside you until the plan is in place, I can do that, too. Luckily for me, I can have your back from anywhere.”

Victor listens to your promises, feels your touch, and remembers why he trusts you and feels comfortable near you. Victor Vale takes a deep breath, then opens his eyes and smiles.

#to being ghosts.#victor vale x reader #victor vale #vicious #vicious ve schwab #fem!reader

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demospectator · 9 months ago

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San Francisco Chinatown men with queues, c. 1900. Photographer unknown (from the Pat Hathaway archives).

When San Francisco Criminalized Hairstyle

In a time where hairstyles such as dreadlocks and cornrows have often become a cultural battleground, emblematic of personal expression and cultural identity, the echoes of the San Francisco Queue Ordinance still resonate. As a former staffer in the halls of the US Senate, I recall my boss's assertion during my inaugural week—a proclamation that "there are no new issues." I realized then and now that the often obscure legislation, rooted in different times, can cast a shadow on contemporary debates, illustrating pertinent struggles for autonomy and acceptance within minority communities.

In California, the San Francisco Board of Supervisors passed the Queue Ordinance in 1873. The was law intended to force prisoners in San Francisco, California to have their hair cut within an inch of the scalp. It affected Han Chinese prisoners in particular, as it meant they would have their queue, a waist-long, braided pigtail, cut off. The proposal passed by a narrow margin through the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in 1873. The ordinance was immediately vetoed by Mayor William Alvord. In his veto, the mayor stated that “this order, though general in its terms, in substance and effect, is a special and degrading punishment inflicted upon the Chinese residents for slight offenses and solely by reason of their alienage and race.”

“Shaving, Cleansing and Scraping heads in a Basement Barber-shop,” June 6,1879, from the Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper.

An identical version of the law was enacted in 1876 and signed by a different Mayor Andrew Bryant. This set the stage for a federal case when a Chinese immigrant named Ho Ah Kow was arrested for living space violations under the city’s Cubic Air ordinance. Unable or unwilling to pay the fine for the violations, he was jailed. His jailers removed his queue during his incarceration.

Ho sued then Sheriff Nunan for damages, claiming that the "Pigtail Ordinance" caused him irreparable harm.

On June 14, 1879, trial in a case about what the New York Times would later describe as “this childish attempt on the part of a community to persecute a race, in defiance of the Constitution and the laws” began in a San Francisco federal court, presided over by United States Supreme Court Justice Stephen Johnson Field. On July 7, 1879, Justice Stephen Johnson Field — in spite of heated criticism from the general public and lampooning in the press — found in favor of the plaintiff.

Field’s decision held that it was not within the powers of the Board of Supervisors to set such a discriminatory law and that the ordinance was, in fact, unconstitutional. In particular, he cited the Fourteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution which guarantees equal protection under the law to all persons within its jurisdiction. See Ho Ah Kow v. Nunan, 12 Fed. Cas. 252 (1879).

Nine days later, the New York Times reported Justice Field’s decision and the unusual “case in which the Constitution of the United States is invoked to defend a subject of the Emperor in China, temporarily residing in this country,” noting that “the cutting of the hair, otherwise, the cue, of the Chinese prisoner was not done to promote discipline or health. It was done to add torture to his confinement.”

The New York Times’ editors presciently observed the constitutional significance of the successful challenge to San Francisco’s Queue Ordinance, beyond the “cruel and unusual punishment” it inflicted, as follows:

"But, what is of more importance, the court held, in this case, that the whole spirit of the ordinance was in the violation of the Constitution and laws of the United States. It was intended only for the Chinese of San Francisco. ... And in our country hostile and discriminating legislation by a State against any persons of any class, creed, or nation, in whatever form it may be expressed, is forbidden by the fourteenth amendment of the Constitution.”

The district court’s decision was rendered seven years before, and served as precedent for, the landmark SCOTUS decision in Yick Wo v. Hopkins 118 U.S. 363 (citing Ah Kow v. Nunan).

Little is known about the fate of the plaintiff, Ah Kow. He was awarded $10,000 in damages. He undoubtedly had to wait a very long time before even contemplating a return to the motherland ruled by the Qing emperor.

In ensuing years, reform movements in China had begun demanding its removal as a badge of fealty, along with foot-binding and a change in constitutional government. In February 6, 1896, The San Francisco Call newspaper reported that the city’s Chinese residents were expressing concerns that wearing the queue as sign of loyalty to a foreign government could preclude native-born, Chinese San Franciscans from voting. More significant, The Call reported, “[t]here are about 500 voters in Chinatown now, . . . and before election day the Chinatown politicians expect to carry no less than 1000 in their vest pockets. At the last gubernatoral [sic] election 400 votes cast either way would have changed the result.”

Following the establishment of the Republic of China in 1912, Chinese American men gradually abandoned the traditional Qing-era queue, as part of a symbolic departure from the Manchu-dominated imperial rule. The queue, which had been enforced during the Qing Dynasty as a sign of submission, became a powerful visual representation of resistance against the old regime. In the early 20th century, as Chinese Americans' abandonment of the queue not only symbolized their alignment with modernity and progressive ideals in China but also a desire to integrate into the American sociopolitical landscape. This shift reflected not only a break from a past in which hairstyle had been weaponized against the community but also a conscious effort to redefine identity in the context of a new era.

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

Text of the Ho Ah Kow v. Nunan decision may be read here.

#Queue Ordinance #Ho Ah Kow v. Nunan #Justice Stephen Field

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doctorbrown · 6 months ago

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all the draft scripts for the films are my favourite things tbh - there are definitely some things from those i wish made it into the film, like jen actually got to be awake and conscious throughout the future bit and it was fun having her and marty get around. and doc's future lab could've been so cool.

BUT I'M SO GLAD THEY DID NOT KEEP 1967 AS THE YEAR BIFF WENT BACK TO AFTER STEALING THE DELOREAN BECAUSE OOF

If you want to keep reading it's just me going through all the wild shit from the first draft pt2 script. I ENCOURAGE YOU DO THOUGH BECAUSE IT'S A WILD TIME

Biff City for Hell Valley cracks me up though

Cops damaging the aerial acceleration circuits in 1985A when Biff calls them to Doc's house (because the whole finding out how he got the almanac scene plays out very differently and Doc and Marty call from the garage pretending to be the man he stole the book from in '67 and Biff traces the call back) and so since they can't accelerate up to 88, they're going to plummet the DeLorean down to get them up those last 13mph to 88 for temporal displacement

Otis Peabody just gets out after twelve years in the sanatorium thinking he's cured, that flying saucers and aliens aren't real and lo and behold, what does he see but the DeLorean, this time FLYING and landing right in front of the barn??

Marty decked out in hippie gear and Doc teaching him the vernacular of that time

Marty thrown in jail because he doesn't have a draft card

Peabody thinking he's gonna stop these alien bastards from getting away before the cops can come and see this time so while Doc's in the front seat, he destroys Mr Fusion with a shotgun blast

Marty goes to Biff's house to get the almanac back because it was left on his doorstep in this version with a note and when Biff happens to see him trying to retrieve it, decked out in hippie gear, he gets immediately suspicious upon seeing the note and tosses it at Marty, believing it's some bomb. Well that was easy. Time to go!

Goldie Wilson's an attorney who shows up to try and represent Marty after being jailed and Marty tell him to put his name in the paper as Marty DeLorean because someone (Doc) is gonna see it and get him out. And someone DOES see it! Lorraine, also dressed as a hippie who is inspired by Marty's 'bravery in resisting the draft and to go to jail for his beliefs'

MARTY MEETING LINDA AND DAVE AS CHILDREN

Marty once again jeopardising his existence because now that he's shown up and Lorraine spent all her money paying his bail, she can't afford to go out of town to see George for their anniversary weekend and that just so happens to be the weekend Marty's conceived— Hello countdown to non-existence.

Marty: you said these clothes would help me blend in. Doc: sorry, guess spending my '60s on a college campus warped my perception a little.

This: classic Doc.

I can't deal with this kid

Nobody can, Doc. Nobody can.

Doc: you've gotta have a rich eccentric uncle from out of town. everyone does. Marty: do you? Doc: i am one.

Doc & Marty trying to figure out a way to get Lorraine to accept $500 so she can go on that trip to San Francisco to bang George.

What's a trip to the past without encountering '67 Doc and yeah...he looks exactly like you'd imagine him to.

OF ALL THINGS, '67 DOC RIDES A HARLEY. WITHOUT A HELMET. (I'M GONNA STRANGLE HIM)

'67 Doc repairing Mr Fusion and what does Marty see in his lab other than the letter from '55 2/3 of the way taped back together.

Now it's time to plan it all. How are we doing it? It can't fly with the damage, so we'll fit it with ailerons to enable flight. Well, there are no upcoming storms, no plutonium, and none of these electrical cables will supply 1.21 gigawatts worth of power to the FC, but fortunately there's a place in Gannon Canyon where, if we blow the safety regulator on one of the transformers, the ensuing explosion will overload the wires and carry the required amount of power, but only for a window of 3.3 seconds!! Any longer and the wires will disintegrate and oh, so will you and the DeLorean if you don't hit it within that 3.3 second window. Too early, you'll get electrocuted, too late, you'll disintegrate, and if you miss flying into the wires entirely, the interference shorts the guidance system and you'll plummet probably to your death.

This plan's insane, Doc, how could you possibly have come up with it?? Well I'm glad you asked.

Y'KNOW. JUST TOOK SOME LSD. AS YOU DO IN THE SIXTIES.

Now with that taken care of, just gotta make sure Lorraine gets the money from her 'eccentric rich uncle.' Well she did! And then promptly sent it back. So where are they gonna get $500 now? Luckily, Doc's got a bank account!

Or...he did. The bank gave him a free toaster as part of opening the account and when it broke, they refused to replace it, so Doc said well fine then, watch this. And, as you do, promptly withdrew all his money and instead placed it in a safe in his home.

Doc's sneaking into his own place while his '67 counterpart is loading the modified DeLorean into the van. Gotta get into the safe but oh no! '67 Doc comes back because he forgot the time bomb to blow the safety regulator!

They've made contact!

In true Biff fashion, he and the boys are going to crash the Anti-War rally Lorraine convinced Marty to speak.

All while this is happening, Doc has gotten the $500 from...himself...has stolen his younger counterpart's motorcycle, and is now BOOKING IT to the rally to find Marty so they can give Lorraine the money and pretend it's from all her friends at the rally.

Biff attacks! Marty knocks him out good but sends him straight into Doc as he's hurrying over to give him the envelope and of course...the envelope falls into a flaming drum and is destroyed.

But there's one last chance! Marty appeals to the crowd he's been speaking to with a very touching speech, saying how family is incredibly important and Lorraine gave up everything for her beliefs, so if everyone just even gave $1, she could make her bus to San Francisco and see George. Marty starts it off with $10 and everyone is passing money around.

And who should be in the crowd but the two officers who arrested Marty, touched by the speech of family? They're going to give Lorraine her bail money back and drop the charges on Marty.

BUT WAIT, SOMEONE'S RUNNING THROUGH THE CROWD, HAVING JUST ARRIVED IN A TAXI. It's George! Lorraine's father called him and told him the news; he came all the way down for that.

Now it's time to get back to the future. Doc & Marty head to the canyon where the plan's going to happen, '67 Doc's teaching him how to fly the DeLorean now, everything's great. Local Doc wishes he could come, saying how cool it would be, but the weight of an additional passenger would ruin everything. Marty, naturally, panics. His Doc has to get in the DeLorean too; what does that mean? Well, '67 Doc only precisely calculated this for Marty's weight.

Time to fight over who gets to go back. Doc's already decided, though. It's Marty.

But if they BOTH go and they toss out extra unneeded equipment from the DeLorean...

Rip off the doors, toss the spare tyre, any extra tools...

Toss the almanac still in Marty's bag after it was retrieved from Biff, they're good to go!

IT WORKS, THEY'RE HOME FREE. But who just happens to be camping out in the canyon where the almanac was tossed down, watching the DeLorean time travel? The Peabody family.

Otis picks it up, sees all the numbers inside, deems it junk, and tosses the almanac on the campfire. Destroyed in the end after all.

Back in present-day, one of the discarded DeLorean doors has ended up in a museum in the canyon, believed to be from a UFO. It's futuristic (by '60s standards) technology only further proved that, and Otis Peabody is the so called expert who found the door that day while camping in the canyon.

The ending kind of unfolds similar to pt3's ending: Marty's life was ruined in this one not by an automobile accident, but by a group of people coming up to him in a car and offering him a part in a get-rich-quick scheme. In the shitty future, he took it, lost horribly, ruined everything. In this one, he tells them he's not interested and they leave, that's that. Marty brought a card of his son's back with him from the future, and like with the letter Jen had from pt2, it's completely blank. He asks Doc about it and he says, much like at the end of pt3, that his future is entirely up to him, so he better make it a good one.

Doc's still got some other crazy plans though, of course. Future? Nah, been there done that. Past is too dangerous. What he's got is even better.

#THIS SCRIPT IS JUST SO WILD Y'ALL I LOVE IT #but the return to the past bit of the second film we got is just *chef's kiss*#I'M SORRY FOR THIS *LONG* POST I JUST LOVE THESE...#and who would i be if i'm not going feral over the content #I JUST WANTED TOS HARE THIS WITH MY DASH #THESE DRAFTS ARE THE WILDEST THINGS HONESTLY #LIKE I'VE SAID BEFORE WITH THE FIRST DRAFT SCRIPT OF PT1 #W O W.#&; there's something about that one 「 ooc 」#the amount of times i had to re-check my spelling of lsd hoping i didn't write lds because of the fucking one with the whales

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feedingtheflockministry · 2 years ago

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Traveling 3,000 miles to meet the Messiah

The year was 1970, and the post-Woodstock hippie movement swept America. Searching for meaning in his life, a young hippie named Mitch Glaser, along with a friend, dropped out of college in Connecticut and hitchhiked across the country to San Francisco.

Their journey was about more than just a change of venue. Mitch, only 17 years old at the time, sought answers he wasn’t finding in his Jewish roots.

Growing up in a traditional Jewish home in New York City, he regularly attended synagogue and observed traditional holidays like Yom Kippur and Passover. Mitch was proud of his heritage, but something was missing.

He was entrenched in religion, but never felt connected to God. Questions surfaced like, “What is the meaning of life?” So the scraggly bearded youth headed west, bringing only what he could carry on his back, in hopes of finding answers.

In California, Mitch and a few other friends built a houseboat, living for free by “borrowing” utilities from their neighbors, and delved into the hippie lifestyle. Meanwhile, Mitch still strongly identified himself as a Jew. Today, about 5 million Jews live in the United States. Less than 20 percent regularly attend synagogue.

Eventually, a building inspector condemned the houseboat. Shortly after, a Jewish friend named Joan visited. After spending time with some Christians, Joan had come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, and couldn’t wait to share her discovery.

“She preached heavily to us about the end times,” Mitch says. “I thought she was absolutely nuts.”

It was as if Joan were turning her back on her roots.

“I said, ‘Of course I’m not a Christian. I’m Jewish,’” he remembers.

As a Jew, Mitch’s attitudes toward Christianity were largely shaped by his grandparents’ history in Europe. To them, Christianity was a foreign and hostile religion responsible for horrific events like the Holocaust and the Crusades.

“I was raised to believe Jesus was not only not Jewish, but anti-Jewish,” he said.

Yet Mitch’s friends were drawn by Joan’s personal experience. She made Jesus sound hip – after all, He was a revolutionary. So they decided to visit her Christian friends in Oregon to hear more. Mitch tagged along suspiciously.

“Mitch probably thought we were involved in something dangerous,” Joan remembers.

That night at dinner with the group of Christians, Mitch had an encounter with God. While the owner of the house prayed, Mitch sat with his eyes open. It was strange to him; the man talked out loud to God, as if he knew Him. Mitch could sense a strong presence in the room. He knew it was God.

From then on, Mitch was determined to know this God. So he began reading the Old Testament, something few Jews do outside of the synagogue. He yearned to connect with God like Abraham and Moses did.

At one point, Mitch approached some young, ultra-Orthodox rabbis for help. The spiritual leaders disdained his questions.

“I tried giving traditional Judaism a chance to talk me out of accepting Jesus,” he says. “Instead, by cutting me off, it made me think they were trying to hide something.”

A little while later, Mitch took a job as a counselor at an ecology camp in the Redwood Forest. As he approached a phone booth one night, the moon illuminated something on the ledge where a phone book should have been. It was a copy of the New Testament, which Mitch began reading regularly.

Through his reading he discovered that Jesus was actually Jewish. He celebrated Passover. He fit the descriptions in the Old Testament prophecies. And although Christ’s claims were beginning to make sense to Mitch, believing in Jesus felt like an act of betrayal of his heritage and family. While hiking in the forest one evening, Mitch wrestled with God.

“You don’t understand,” Mitch prayed. “You don’t have a Jewish mother.”

But Jesus did have a Jewish mother, he realized. God understood, and could help him in his new faith. From then on, Mitch’s beliefs solidified. Today he serves as president for Chosen People Ministries, an international Christian outreach to Jewish people.

Jews doubt that Jesus was the Messiah because He wasn’t a military leader, like their tradition expected. Yet Scripture is clear. More than 300 Old Testament references prophesying details about the Messiah were all fulfilled by Jesus.

For a Jewish person to develop faith in Jesus, they need to see Christ as the completion of their roots, says Mitch, not a step away from those roots. Believing in Jesus doesn’t mean you stop being Jewish. In fact, it completes the tradition.

“The irony is that people say you cannot believe in Jesus and be Jewish,” says Joan, who moved to Israel 21 years ago to reconnect with her Jewish heritage. “We have found pertinence to Jewish festivals that we never found before.”

Jews who believe Jesus is the Messiah are called Messianic Jews, or Jewish believers. But terminology can sometimes mislead. “I don’t like labels,” says Joan. “But know two things about me: I am a Jew, and I believe in Yeshua as the Messiah of Israel.”

It was enough for a searching hippie to understand 30 years ago. He found meaning in the Messiah and still serves Him today.

#jewish #jewish synagogue #jews and judaism #jews #testimonies #blog

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makingenemies · 1 year ago

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𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑭𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺 ...

𝘪𝘵'𝘴　　𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯　　𝘮𝘦　　𝘴𝘰　　𝘧𝘢𝘳　　𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥　　𝘵𝘩𝘦　　𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵　　𝘰𝘧　　𝘯𝘰　　𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯

𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐄 𝐗 𝐓 𝐑 𝐀 . . .

name ( s ) : viktor drake ( undisclosed government name ) . alias : viktor drake , vik , viky ( careful with that one ) . d . o . b . december 4 , 1943 . in : san francisco , california . he holds citizenship in the united states of america . he speaks : english , moreno version of italian . religious beliefs : raised by non-practicing roman catholics — returned upon moreno family undercover op . educational achievements : bachelors degree in criminal justice . current occupation : underboss for the moreno family . former occupation : fbi agent until '78 . eye colour : dark brown . hair colour : black varies from shoulder length to shorter , namely shorter in the 70's and 80's . height : 6′1″ , 186 cm . distinguishing characteristic : aroma of tobacco lingering , catholic crucifix tattoo between his shoulder blades with latin writing .

current theory : possible waning confidence on the state of the moreno's after lev's death . frequent locations : the halcyon , hotel calgarie when necessary , the one chinese restaurant off fifth ave . habits : spending holidays alone at restaurants , smoking excessively . prized possession : engraved zippo lighter gifted to him by the late lev ' lucky ' moreno .

inspo ; 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘰 ( 1997 ) , 𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 ( 𝘹-𝘮𝘦𝘯 ) , 𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘩 ( 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 ) , 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘷𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳

𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘 . . .

the day one is born, one is nearly taken. a life for a life, living on borrowed time and death comes like a debt collector one cold december night. a place he hasn't been, but new york whispers its promises, where twinkling lights illuminate the city and the rush of the metro past the vacant platform tightens a boy's grip on his mother's hand. darkness never shrouds them but the light flickering overhead gives way to the cold barrel of a gun pointing at her, the woman whose hand he holds. and it's always the same; the pearls around her neck, the purse over her shoulder. . . 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, and because of this she must let go. and upon returning, san francisco is colder somehow, the fog is heavier and the cherry red cable cars rolling up and down familiar streets remain his only constant. his father sits in the corner of the living room with silent regret louder than words can ever be. he should have gone with them. and she's still there too, his mother, in debt to death more than most, but left with a reminder. 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥. and that reminder is a push of fate, his fate. next to his father's morning coffee, the newspaper headlining the fbi's most wanted and a mugshot searing into his memory, one of them. 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. his twenties are serviced to a double life. a throw away special agent, one foot in and one out. he's expendable enough, but he's ' got what it takes ' they tell him. he's the one who can end it all. and he thinks so too. pompous might and the expense of youth, the fbi craves it. but so does another. at the hands of a fresh faced attorney he finds his way in. she is the first to bind him, and soon wire tapped conversations and acceptance from crooks feels a little less like a means to an fbi weekly check in. mannerisms cannot be turned off, speech patterns bleed into outside conversations, and relationships. . . 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘳. years in. he marries, for his cover. he fathers children, for his cover. he kills, for his cover and he's disowned, for his cover. . . 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. and lev moreno knows this, it's a waiting game. a test and viktor makes his decision the day he blows the fbi's sting operation. his pledge of allegiance, but his penance is serving at the bottom, until again, he makes a sacrifice at the alter of lev moreno. his blood ties are chosen and it's all he has left. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥. the climb to the top is not without sacrifice, and when he can give no more he finds the title he's come to earn to be no less a personal hell than the one he's paid for since the day he chose.

𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐂 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 𝐒 . . .

the agent , the partner he had when part of the fbi in the '70s, the one that he checked in with during his undercover op who he blindsided after turning on the fbi for the moreno family

the ex wife ( 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘯 ) , she was his initial ' in ' with the moreno family back in the 70's and the mother of his child, divorcing in '81.

trust issues , neither seem to be too fond of each other, reasons neither can seem to articulate. call it a hunch, a feeling. in the moreno group and would not be aware, like most are not of the fbi past

keeping the bed warm , it's as heartless as it sounds, and both know it.

( 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 )

#pulptv.intro #just gonna pretend it's decent #ignore the graphic & everything else

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bcatrixs · 1 year ago

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chase sui wonders. she/they. gender fluid. › spotted at the met steps , BEATRIX “TRIX” WANG , most likely listening to zoom by jessi with their airpods pro . the twenty-seven year old gained quite a reputation , known to be -facetious yet +captivating to anyone who knows them . you'll easily spot them when you hear about the light glow emitting from a computer screen , going on daily boba runs to the point where it's become a regular part of your routine , a growing collection of oversized sweaters and jackets , followed by their flora gorgeous jasmine by gucci . latest nepoupdates article talks about going too far ? journalist and podcaster trix wang arrested for trespassing , but i guess any reputation is good reputation . ( muse 2l & subplot 19 )

[ ! ] WANTED CONNECTIONS.

[ ! ] ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS.

penned by HECATE ( she/her , pst , 21+ )

OVERVIEW .

STATS PAGE .

FULL NAME: beatrix jade wang

NICKNAME(S) / ALIASES: trix , trixie ( only by family and close friends )

DOB: 02/10/1996

AGE: 27

HEIGHT: 5′5″

ZODIAC: aquarius

GENDER: genderfluid

PRONOUNS: she/her/hers , they/them/theirs

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual

LANGUAGES: english , cantonese , mandarin , spanish

AESTHETICS: the light glow emitting from a computer screen , going on daily boba runs to the point where it's become a regular part of your routine , a growing collection of oversized sweaters and jackets , stopping at nothing to break a newsworthy story , using a voice recorder to note every thought down

CHARACTER PARALLELS: jubilation lee ( marvel comics ) , mabel mora ( only murders in the building ) , nate archibald ( gossip girl ) , isaac mcadoo ( ted lasso ) , stephanie brown ( dc comics )

BACKGROUND .

beatrix is born the second eldest out of four to a chinese-american father and english mother in san francisco , california and relocates to new york city before she turns one . her mother hails from a legacy of entrepreneurs , making their money in energy and oil . her father made his money during the height of the silicon valley tech boom , heavy expectations were placed upon all the wang children since birth . it’s safe to say trix was destined for great things since birth .

at the age 5 , beatrix finds her calling wushu . what started as an extracurricular activity both parents put her in has evolved to so much more when her wushu master noticed her skill and potential . that becomes the focus of her life . and yeah , she got good at it . this was just a part of the routine now . and to her parents ? one hell of a resume padder . they had never really questioned it . at 16 , trix starts contemplating this cookie-cutter life their parents have laid out for them . attending the top private school in the nation . etiquette classes . language classes . the expectation to attend yale just as their parents had . it worked for her older sister so clearly this is the model all the wang children should follow .

they start to act out a little bit . purposely starting arguments with their parents . ditching school from time to time . and by the time college acceptances rolled out , trix had other plans . they announce they’d be going to school in d.c. . they find their calling in journalism . quickly latching onto the idea of reporting on crime specifically . when it comes to trix’s tenacity , they can’t be stopped . they land an internship at the washington post , working hard to prove their worth . and by the time they graduated , trix has an offers to different media publications but ultimately chooses to write for the new york times . what can they say ? they’re a little homesick .

at 25 , trix breaks the biggest story of her career . it lands the new york times as a finalist in the pulitzer’s breaking news reporting category . she doesn’t expect to win of course , but to be a finalist ? that’s huge . and to her surprise , the pulitzer for breaking news reporting goes to her . this is it . she thinks she’s peaked . she needs to change it up a bit . and so she does . in the form of starting her own true crime podcast . she’s not sure if it’ll take off but turns out , people do want to listen to a journalist talk through their thought process and the connections they’ve made while reporting on true crime then branching into all things supernatural . it’s a small success . one that leads to the creation of a podcast dedicated to the apartment building they live in .

PERSONALITY .

at first glance , they’re the life of the party . and it’s easily how people see them . it’s the personality they present when on their podcast . often seen engaging and entertaining others through humor , enthusiasm and a sprinkle of sarcasm . there’s no debate as to how easily they’ll feel at home in any environment . they’ve evolved into someone who wants to live in the moment and enjoy life . aside from having excellent people skills , they’re practical and observant . and she’s not without her faults . she can be a little conflict adverse . a little facetious in dealing with things they’re uncomfortable with . their demeanor as a journalist differs immensely from how others often see them . she’s quick-witted . a little lackadaisical . stoic . unafraid to ask the tough questions and stand her ground .

HEADCANONS .

this section is a wip and will be updated when i think of more things ! <3

career claim / inspo: unsolved ( both true crime and supernatural ! )

goes by beatrix professionally but outside of that will only introduce themselves as trix

currently works as an investigative journalist with a focus on true crime at the new york times

competed at the world wushu championships and secured a spot in the US wushu team by the time she was 10 years old

since the podcast with muse 2m and muse 2n have taken off , trix’s initial podcast became more of a side thing

can always be seen with a dictaphone on them . you never know when you’ll need to chase down a source !

graduated with a degree in journalism from georgetown university and recently obtained their masters from columbia

the one friend you constantly have to remind to get out of the apartment once in a while when they get too absorbed with work

has only recently started getting used to the media attention they receive . although , they do wish the media would also highlight their career as an investigative journalist a little more

#🌸 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 . ›› beatrix wang .#nepofm.intro #this is long but it's done and i am posting from work FDSJKL

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robertlaskarzewski · 2 years ago

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Seventeenth Week

Hi, my name is Robert Laskarzewski, and I am currently a sophomore at the Darla Moore School of Business studying International Business and Marketing. I’m a part of the International Business Responsible International Leadership (RIL) program and will spend the Spring and Fall semesters at the ESSEC Cergy campus. I was born and raised in California, about an hour away from San Francisco. I chose to attend the University of South Carolina specifically because of the RIL program and the amount of time abroad that was offered. Once I was accepted, it was an easy choice to pursue my studies there.

And just like that, the first semester is officially over. It’s hard to believe that time has moved so quickly, it feels like only yesterday that I was landing at CDG.

I haven’t been doing much this week besides slowly preparing (both physically and mentally) for my departure from Cergy to Toulon for my volunteering experience. On my way to Toulon, I’ll stop in the city of Valence for a couple of nights, just to see some place new. Additionally, I did bits and pieces of work for any remaining final projects for my classes. This included an oral presentation for my French history class and a case scenario for my “People & Organizations” class.

On Tuesday, I had my final for marketing which I felt went well. It was held in a large auditorium of ESSEC called le Dôme – creatively named after its dome-like structure. Inside, four different sections of students took the final for responsible marketing, including my own (section J). I hadn’t experienced anything like this, even during standardized testing that I had gone through during high school.

After taking my final, I went to Paris to stop by the Musée des Arts et Metiers, literally translated as the Museum of Arts and Crafts. Inside, there were hundreds if not thousands of displays showing the evolution of technology, most notably during the Industrial Revolution. The museum itself seemed to be placed inside an old factory of some sort that was connected to an adjacent church of some sort (that had been converted to house old planes and early automobiles).

On Friday, I went with some friends to Kodawari Ramen, a Michelin-star ramen restaurant with two locations in Paris. After an excruciatingly long wait (over an hour and a half), our party of 10 was finally granted entrance into the fish market-themed restaurant. After being led through the themed ground floor, we were led upstairs into a separate room, reminiscent of a dojo where the Japanese elite may have dined – this illusion was slightly lowered due to the 80s-themed decorations which included an old TV, posters on the wall, and other small bits and pieces. After quick restaurant service, I received one of the best ramen I had ever had – well worth the wait (although the atmosphere itself was worth the wait).

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gabedesouza · 2 years ago

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Character Name: Gabriel De Souza Age & Birthday: 14th October, 30 Gender & Pronouns: Cis Male, He/Him Place of birth: San Francisco, CA Neighborhood: The Castro Occupation: Chef at The Ramp Faceclaim: Rafael Silva

Gabe grew up being praised for a lot of things, his intelligence and his friendliness among his most frequently admired traits, but never his boldness. Even as a child, Gabe would look to his parents before answering questions and hesitate on making decisions. Back then the smallest decisions felt so important and he was just so careful not to pick the wrong thing, that often someone would choose for him. It was something he struggled to shake off as he grew up.

Being the only child, the attention was always on him. He grew up comfortable, some might even say cushy. He was always looked after, made to feel important, and he listened with enthusiasm as his parents recounted their hopes and dreams for him. As he grew older, that same enthusiasm settled into something more akin to anxiety to meet their standards. Maybe they did not mean to put so much pressure onto their son, but Gabe found himself barrelling towards a future that did not feel like his.

It was not like he did not have passions. He gained a love for many things, fitness and reading among them, but there was a special twinkle in his eye when he started learning how to cook. He was not a natural, like he was at so many other things. When he started getting into cooking, it didn’t come as easily as the answers came to him in school, or as the motivation to eat healthy and work out. It was a bumpy road, challenging, and that’s exactly what kept him so engaged and desperate to master it.

Professionally, however, Gabe found himself following in the footsteps of his parents. After college, he was swiftly accepted into law school and moved across the country to attend Harvard Law in Massachusetts. How could anyone be more proud of their son, getting into an Ivy League school and studying in such a respected and sought after field? How was Gabe going to get through law school without slowly losing his mind? He wasn’t. It might have taken him until the end of his second year, barely hanging on academically and being surer than he was of anything else in his life that this was the last thing he wanted to do as a career, but he finally gained the courage to drop out and take a leap of faith into something he was actually passionate about.

He had been cooking, casually of course, while going through the motions of law school, but now he was free to pursue it. Having always thought of himself more of a Cowardly Lion than a Captain America, he was shocked by the adrenaline he gained from such a bold choice. As it turns out, not living your life to please everyone else can actually make you happier. After years of training to be a chef on the east coast, he’s moved back to the city he grew up in with a heavy sigh and a hopeful smile. It might actually be time to let his parents know he is not the hot shot lawyer he’s been claiming to be this whole time.

#intro

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kulay-ng-banaag · 2 years ago

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BURIED GOLD: Oh, Feliciano (Jocson)

Back when I was researching for ☆ LOST & FOUND ☆ while agonizingly restricted to the frustratingly insufficient internet, the most I could find that vouched for Feliciano Jocson as the true designer of the PH flag as we know it today were from two memoirs, neither of them available online. Now that I have legitimate library access once more, I managed to dig those very memoirs up, and the concerned sections.

CW: war, death, violence

☼ ☼ ☼

Testimony #1: Julio Nakpil

He was commissioned by Andres Bonifacio to compose a national hymn for the Revolutionary Government. Too bad the version we got now was by the other camp. (Speaking of Bonifacio, his widow — Gregoria de Jesus — would go on to marry Nakpil).

All Nakpil had to say was a highly frank and overly simplistic sentence at the bottom of the page I shared below. While the RRL section of the thesis grind was always the hardest part, this was precisely why your teachers taught you all never to rest on one source. This was a bane for historians that wanted the tsi— I mean, details.

☼ ☼ ☼

Testimony #2: Artemio Ricarte

A member of the Katipunan who rose the ranks and later took part with the Philippine Army against the invading Americans. "Vibora" (viper) was a nickname he earned.

This first section to be shared was, more or less, an account of events in defense of Jocson, that matched up to that of Nakpil's above.

Translation:

e — Mr. Feliciano Jocson’s noncompliance to the peace [pact]; His rebellion, capture and disappearance — On the day of General G. Mascardo’s arrival in Biyak-na-Bato, Mr. Feliciano Jocson was also present and expressed his utmost disapproval to the pact, not to reject peace itself, but because of his exclusion by the ingenuine Mr. Aguinaldo, regarding the talks held, resulting in a signing of policies and ultimately the acceptance of peace. In reaction to his stubborn defiance, Mr. Aguinaldo no longer wished to invite him to their travel to Hongkong. At this point, Mr. Aguinaldo had barely left en route for Hongkong, when Jocson, upon returning to his station in Pugad-baboy, part of Caloocan, Manila, had begun to recruit people, in order to continue the Revolution that he was to preside over, and because he used the name of Mr. Andres Bonifacio, he attracted both members and non-members of the Katipunan. And as Jocson forged the signature and seal of President Emilio Aguinaldo onto letters, he was able to grasp control over many rebel leaders, in particular those based around Manila, among them Col. Modesto Ritual who was elected General by Mr. Jocson and the Lt. Col. Mr. Nicomedes Carreon, the younger brother of Mr. Francisco Carreon. Both men were killed in Matikiw, within Pangil, Laguna de Bay, under the directions of the Secretaries-General named Enrique and Leon. In early March 1898, Jocson had hoped to make a surprise attack on the city of Manila, had the men he gathered at Camba Street, Binundok (Manila) not been ambushed. Those very men were bombarded by the Spanish soldiers, using only meager artillery. Few had been captured because of the ones who were not suddenly killed, were finished off with heavy hits from the butts of rifles and kicks. Such an atrocity that was enacted by the Spanish at Camba Street, was also carried out in the towns of Kandong, Ilocos Sur, and San Nikolas, Cebu, because the locals had also revolted at the beginning of the year 1898, all of them being enthralled by Jocson’s passionate speeches. This was the accusation set forth by Aguinaldo’s affiliates within the Spanish government of friarism or paid by the friars, for the actions of Jocson were sincere in their intent of disrupting the pact in Biyak-na-Bato. Because of Jocson's failed attempt on the city of Manila, he rode off, alongside some companions, on the steamer Laguna, disembarked on the town of Laguna de Bay and there was arrested by the men of Katipunan leader Mr. Venancio Cueto, who the day before had received an order from Gen. Pio del Pilar instructing for the capture of Jocson and his associates, because they [Jocson and his men] were ordered by the friars, to continue the Rebellion, and included descriptions of noteworthy facial features of Jocson, for immediate identification. Mr. Jocson and his companions were locked up by Cueto like prisoners in his own house... [illustration] Caption: The 2nd Flag of the Philippines And in my dying breath Will I feel more alive But after Jocson’s interview with Mr. Apolinario Mabini, the Sublime Paralytic, who happened to be hiding in Cueto’s home, Jocson’s men were scrutinized until they were allowed to live like free guests inside [Cueto’s] house. Once Mr. Pio del Pilar learned of Jocson’s capture, he traveled to Laguna de Bay alongside his beautiful sweetheart named Mónica, and, under an oath that took place in front of Mr. Paciano Rizal, that he (del Pilar) would not give away Jocson to the Spanish authorities, and that and that he would bear no guilt, in word and in deed in the presence of anyone - that [Venancio] Cueto finally released his captor, Jocson. Without a doubt, General Pio del Pilar abided by these conditions, and thus he alone should be solely held responsible to answer for the unfathomable loss of this fierce patriot who established the departmental government of the seven provinces of Luzon, became its Secretary of the Interior, and who created (p. 73, part C) the tricolor flag, with its sun and three stars, that watches over all of us here.

I think I went too hard on translating the caption beneath the illustration.

The citation in parentheses was from an earlier section of the book, which actually gave relatively more detail on the occasion of seeing the flag design itself. In my opinion, this was much more satisfactory than Nakpil's efforts.

Translation:

When the government of the Philippine Republic settled in Maragundong [Maragondon, Cavite], Mr. Feliciano Jocson arrived, and from the plaza up to the convent, gave out a loud cry: “Long Live the Freedom of the Philippines!” And to kindle the hearts of the people, announced, among other things, that the arms he purchased from Hong Kong were due to arrive, and with only a little more fortitude in the battlefields will our victory be absolutely certain. Per Mr. Jocson’s request, he was granted permission by Mr. Emilio Aguinaldio to establish a government within the island of Luzon, to be named “Departmental Government of the Seven Provinces of Central Luzon.” Mr. Feliciano Jocson, alongside Mr. Teodoro Gonzalez, was met by [Artemio Ricarte] Vibora at Mainam ó Kaytitingga, Alfonso [Cavite], and in the conversation between Vibora and Jocson, he proposed an insignia in the legitimate establishment of the Departmental Government, and he proceeded to reveal to Vibora a single image of a tricolor flag with a sun and three stars. The provinces that comprised the aforementioned government were the following: Tayabas [Quezon], Laguna de Bay, Morong [Rizal], Manila, Bulacan, Nueva Ecija, and Bataan.

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Serving a last round of tea, both to give the bitter but necessary closure for Jocson, as well as a correction to a suggestion I made in my previous footnotes.

It was a certain Pio del Pilar who went after Jocson. He was not related in any way to the Gregorio ("Goyo") del Pilar, because Pio deliberately chose a different surname from what he was born under to protect his family. In retrospect, it proved to be a poor choice when it came to preserving one's reputation.

(Picking a colorized edit because it was the nicest-quality photo I found)

I cropped out two paragraphs — indicated by ellipses — and their corresponding footnotes (the only ones in this section) as they seemed irrelevant.

Admittedly, what left me more shaken was not the recurring (but unsurprising) behavioral pattern of backstabbing between camps, but the mode of discarding captives and the subsequent discovery of their bodies.

Such acts had an extra sting to them when they remained prevalent in the present day.

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Image Credits

The Presidential Museum and Library, The Varsitarian, Wikipedia, Xiao Chua (Wordpress)

Sources

Alvarez, Santiago V. The Katipunan and the Revolution: Memoirs of a General (With the Original Tagalog Text). Translated by Paula Carolina S. Malay. Quezon City, Philippines: Ateneo de Manila University Press, 1992. Alzona, Encarnacion, ed. Julio Nakpil and the Philippine Revolution (With the Autobiography of Gregoria de Jesus). Manila: Carmelo & Bauermann, 1964. Ricarte, Artemio. Himagsikan Nang Manga Pilipino Laban Sa Kastila (Yokohama, Japan: Karihan Cafe, 1927)

#arc: revolution #war cw #death cw #violence cw #long post

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